Unofficial Portkey Archive

Title: Expositus
Author: Crystal
Rating: R
Ship: Draco/Ginny
Timeline/Spoilers: Set during and after HPDH; Spoilers for books 1-7
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Summary: The end is never really the end, it's always just another beginning.

Author's Note: Expositus is Latin for "expose," if anyone is wondering. :)
Dedication: For Daniela, for reading this when I was stressing out about its quality. Thank you, Nilla! And for Tina, for always inspiring me, even when she isn't trying to. And for the D/G fandom, because you know what? Draco/Ginny will always work against any odds, even those in book 7. ;)

There was something mocking about the glaring sun kissing the horizon, the sky blending from twilight blue to brilliant cyan.

He watched her from against a tree, arms crossed, lips a thin line. She was cooing to a small child, to a frightened little girl. He knew her words were soothing even though he couldn't hear them. He knew there was terror hidden beneath her irises even if he was too far away to search them.

His forearm burned beneath his tattered robes, ripped and dirtied from the hard battle. Draco pushed his hair off his forehead with bloodied knuckles and smudging fingers and watched her steadily.

His jaw ached from where Ron Weasley had decked him, a dull throbbing that had loosened his teeth. His pinkened skin beneath singed robes stung with each movement; his grey eyes watered from smoke. Yet he could hardly feel anything as he rushed down corridors filled with dueling wands and jets of green and red, his breath shortened and his throat blocked.

Violently he hit the edge of a corner, head ducking and hands coming up as a stray curse narrowly missed him, ricocheting off of brick and breaking off tumbling pieces. With a long wheeze of dusty air he fell into a small alcove that might have housed an armored knight, long fingers clutching at his Dark Mark that was raised in burning retribution.

There it was, curling black magic searing his arm. Draco shut his eyes and dug his nails into his skin, head lolling back to thud against the wall.

Just less than twenty feet from him, wands were slicing the air and people were dying and falling and screaming, and Draco could feel fear inching into his tummy like a cold slide, adrenaline pumping into his veins with vigor.

He'd never make it out alive; he was sure of it.

He had no wand and no power to truly call his own- he had nothing.

For what felt like an eternity he'd been silent, so very silent, twisting lips holding back protests and cries. He couldn't count the sleepless nights, locked in a large house with nothing but punishment to look forward to.

Draco Malfoy had been quiet for so long, he'd nearly forgotten the words he'd taken so much care to keep in.

There was something oddly hypnotizing about a person's last movements, the shrill note in their voice when they realized they were about to die. Draco had not anticipated anything but pleasure and rewards when the Dark Lord rose again, had not realized the price for what he had envisioned. Draco knew now that he had been foolish and stupid.

He sat there, clutching at his wrist, knowing this all and fearing this all.

With a strangled sound he snapped open his eyes and covered his Mark viciously with cloth, pushing out the scorching hiss of pain and doubts vehemently.

I'm not going to die, he said firmly to himself, I'm not going to die, and I'm not going to kill either.

Stumbling up, he pushed from the crumbling wall with a renewed surge, limping further into the castle with a deliberate slowness, moving cautiously.

Behind him he could hear footsteps and yells and thuds, and up ahead it seemed he'd left most of the frays behind. If only he could find a dark room or a coveted place to hide, anywhere at all where he could just hide- A door was hanging open a ways up to his left, one of its hinges broken, the old thing creaking and swaying back and forth. Quickly he ducked inside the abandoned classroom, vision sweeping across the ruined desks and and overturned chairs, pressing his back against the wall.

The door whined and he could hear a clear "stupefy!" and padding footfalls coming closer.

Draco muttered a curse of the non-magical kind and kept still.

The flash of a jinx hit the damaged entrance, and the door flew off and banged against the floor, letting in scarce light that nearly licked the tips of Draco's scuffed shoes. He recoiled slightly.

Curses hit the frame, one after another and Draco stumbled further along the wall, holding his breath. "Hold still, little blood traitor," a sibilant voice taunted, a voice Draco knew.

Goyle, he realized, yet knowing his oafish friend was near did not comfort him in the least.

A red mane fell into the room, elbows sliding along the floor, fierce cinnamon eyes on the figure following her, wand out. She slashed the air quickly, twines of a Body-Binding Curse shooting out of the room with a few words.

She rolled and dodged a bellowed incantation, scrambling to her feet and coming closer to Draco. Goyle entered the room, his features dirty with blood and scraps; he grunted out words, and a blazing jet of green light emitted from his wand.

He realized at that moment who the gangly redhead was- the moment he fisted a patch of her cloak and pulled her down with him. The summoned Unforgivable hit the wall behind them both with an earsplitting boom. "Goyle!" He yelled, and his fellow Slytherin paused for a moment.

Ginny stirred in his grip, hands clamoring for her dropped wand. Draco got to it first with an elated breath, fingers curling around the polished Hawthorn grip.

"You don't- have to- kill her," he hissed the words, eyes lighting in anger. He pulled Ginny up to her knees and pressed her wand to the column of her neck.

"Draco?" Goyle bumbled out stupidly, wand still raised.

"Yes, you oaf," he answered, readjusting his grip as the girl twisted viciously. "It's me, and you almost fucking offed me, you blind-!"

His angry declaration was cut off- Ginny's arm had somehow come loose under his grasp, her elbow jammed into his nose hard and she was free. His eyes watered and Goyle hesitated in surprise before stuttering out a weak Cruciatus Curse with a trembling large hand.

Blood trickled into Draco's palm and wove through his fingers as she let out a grating short scream, her body convulsing and lifting before she fell, eyes pressing closed with collecting tears, breath gasping. Goyle laughed, the sound sickening, and she rolled over after a moment, heaving, cinnamon uncovering. Somehow he knew the momentary terror in her gaze was reflected in his own- all he could think of was the Dark Lord's hissing voice and the answering tortured screams- he had watched from the corners of downcast eyes- but that image was replaced by Goyle as he came forward with a nasty sneer, pointing his wand in a more sure attempt-

With a shudder Ginny moved as if to drag herself away, the fight not leaving her, not even to the last.

"Trapped now, aren't ya?" Goyle chuckled, swiping his wand through the air. "Avada Kedavra."

Draco's wand was moving and a sharp and clear "protego!" was bursting from behind his lips without a second thought.

The green flash of light hit some invisible wall and rebounded back- Goyle hit the floor with a yelp and Ginny was shaking and pulling herself up with a wild frightened look.

Draco copied her movements, one hand grasping the back of her neck in fear as Goyle stirred, the other clutching her wand.

"Let me go," she whispered. Her voice was scared, but not begging- above all it was demanding and harsh.

"Shut up," he ordered frantically, digging his nails into her skin.

Face a mask of incredulity, Goyle rose, shaking as if his large body were too much for him to hold up. "Wha-?"

"Shut up!" Draco repeated desperately, panicked.

His Mark sizzled and rose above his skin with a renewed wave; his grip tightened around her neck and Ginny let out a stricken sound.

"Give me your wand, Greg," he directed as his breath slowed.

"What do you want my wand-" He started, protectively clutching at it.

"Give me your fucking wand!" Draco bellowed, sparks leaving the tip.

"You have one!" He yelled back stupidly, his own wand shaking in his grasp.

"Just kill me already or disarm him," Ginny offered sarcastically.

"One more word, Weasley," he threatened, "and I will just kill you." The lie left him easily- Ginny fell silent; Goyle was watching him with distrust in his beady dark eyes.

"What's going on? What's-" He stuttered out, and then an odd look of comprehension dawned on Goyle's face. Draco couldn't recall a time in which his companion had seemed so enlightened. "Crabbe was right! He was right!" He shouted. "You're- you've turned on us! You're- You're trying to save a blood traitor!" Where he had been hesitant before, he now seemed slightly assured, arm extended, wand aimed straight at him.

"What?" Draco sputtered. His palms were sweating and his mouth was dry and under any other circumstance he might have laughed at the way Goyle was exclaiming absurdities.

But wasn't he trying to save a blood traitor? And wasn't he already planning to disarm his best friend?

"You're angry at the Dark Lord- f-for making you d-do whatever it is you had to d-do, for confining your- your family- and- and now you're turning on us! Just like Crabbe said!"

The smart words coming from Goyle's mouth were those of a dead man, the intelligence not something he'd peg this buffoon to figure out himself. "Crabbe's dead!" He shouted back, and even he flinched at the harsh reality of his words. "He's dead because he was stupid, Greg! He didn't know what he was talking about!"

"No! You're lying and he was right!"

"Put your wand down!"

"Excuro vi-"

But the words had barely left his lips before Draco shouted the Disarming Charm, his heart lodging in his throat.

Goyle's wand flew into the air, zooming towards him, and Ginny moved fast, twisting around, her small body colliding with his. They both fell to the ground with a hard thud- his breath left him, and an answering clatter informed him Goyle's wand had fallen beside him- he grabbed it. With a vicious wrench of fingers Ginny reclaimed her own wand from his grasp and rolled away, the tip pointed at him.

"Expell-"

"Protego!"

Quickly he ducked her next Disarming Charm, barreling into Goyle as he came rushing towards him. The big oaf's weight gave him the upper hand considerably, but Draco simply gritted his teeth and jabbed a beady eye with his wand- Goyle clutched at his socket with a roar and fell back- Draco jumped to his feet, a nasty jinx already spewing past his lips in a rush.

But a simple "stupefy!" beat him to it. In an instant, a red light had surrounded his friend, sliding him violently into the nearest wall with a sickening thud, and then he was completely still. Draco spun around to the source without a second's hesitation.

Ginny Weasley's chest was heaving and her wand was poised at him, her wild red mane matted to her neck with sticky sweat. She was looking at him hard, and Draco held her gaze unblinkingly, ready at any moment to counter whatever she'd throw at him.

"I don't believe you're on our side," she said with conviction.

He smiled a grim smile and let out a soft laugh that seemed to unnerve her; she shifted from one foot to the other. At this point, Draco didn't even know whose side he was on, if he was on any at all. "Glad you've figured me out, then," he drawled back. "Saves me a lot of trouble."

"Why did you help me?"

"Why do you care?" He shot back.

"Because you saved my life," she replied evenly. Her eyes flashed with some emotion he couldn't decipher.

"And I'm still waiting for a 'thank you,'" he countered, edging towards the door. Ginny took a step closer, clearly noticing. "You let me out of this room with this wand. Don't come running after me. We'll call it even, Weasley," he suggested.

"I can't do that, Malfoy," she shook her head, the courageous and stubborn look in her eyes boring into him.

He smirked. "I don't want to hurt you. If I wanted you hurt, Weasley, I'd've just let Greg do it."

"Then what do you want?" She asked suspiciously, the question heavy.

"To get out of this alive," he answered her as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You owe me, Weasley," he mentioned again. "You're in my debt now. Wizard's debt. I saved your life."

She seemed to freeze, red locks framed by windows and the whipping expanse of twilight that soared behind her. "I saved you from Goyle," she choked out.

Draco held back a laugh. "I had that under control," he said smoothly. "Now let me go."

She didn't have the chance to reply. A larger-than-life fleshy limb had snuffed out the fading stars. The castle shook violently and they both stumbled with the force of the trembling earth. The giants, he thought, glancing out the window.

It took him a short moment to realize that the roar in his ears wasn't just from the giant's footsteps- above the deafening clamor the thing was howling, its scream as loud as a violent wind. Draco didn't stick around long enough to see why.

The moment she looked away, startled, he darted out the door. He couldn't even hear the slap of his heels over the noise, his mind racing as he turned a corner, hands gripping a moving staircase and taking the steps three at a time, nearly missing the proffered ledge before the stone beneath his feet started moving again.

A beam of crimson light narrowly missed him as he stumbled onto the ledge, and he turned to see Ginny Weasley halfway down the flight, her legs carrying her closer by the second. He dodged her second spell, smirking slightly at the frustrated twisting of her features, the curses that spewed from her lips. Then he ducked into the adjoining hall, trying to ignore the fact he'd left Goyle defenseless and stunned, trying to stifle the panic and indecision still gripping him, but most of all trying to figure out where the hell he was.

Third- maybe fourth- floor?

Everything was a little too quiet. He could hear the distant sounds of dueling and the giants had at some point decided to stop their hollering. He turned a corner, and now the only thing he could hear were his footsteps and they sounded much too loud. He stopped at a statue of a dragon in the midst of opening its jaws, surveying his surroundings and trying to slow his labored breath.

The only thing he could do was hide and wait it out. There was no way he could sneak off of the grounds unharmed or even alive, not now.

Draco let out an annoyed huff and strode purposely forward into a connected hall, grey eyes roaming across the emptied paintings and tapestries for a door.

He heard it before anything else- it sounded like chewing, a sloppy crunch of bone that assaulted his ears. He stopped slowly and listened with intentness, coming up on another corner, hardly breathing. Back flattened against the wall, Draco leaned forward, craning his neck to peek, smelling something that reminded him all too much of copper.

His eyes widened and suddenly his mouth tasted like bile. Two lumps were bathed in the shadows of twilight, and one was eating, his grey scraggly hair tinted with crimson. The other was a mess of limbs and insides and pooling blood, the liquid soaking into Fenrir Greyback's robes as he tore at a throat, ripping the skin off with a gleeful chilling laugh.

Draco straightened quickly, swallowing down acid, eyelids fluttering as he gazed at the high ceiling.

Through the nausea he slunk back, pads of his fingers testing the cool wall.

Out of anyone's help he'd even consider accepting right now, it wasn't Fenrir Greyback's. It didn't take a leap of genius to figure out why, not when Draco could still recall the werewolf's predatory yellowed stare from the Manor. Greyback would just as soon rip Draco's throat out than anyone else's.

Fast footsteps reached his ears and for a split terrifying second he thought of Greyback, but then he realized that they were from the opposite direction.

He stiffened as Ginny Weasley appeared next to the dragon statue, wand out protectively in front of her. There was no time- her gaze rested on him before he could think to hide- and her mouth opened with a loud hex that he fully understood would give his snot wings.

He bent and lurched forward as it hit the tapestry behind him, the heavy velvet cloth falling to the ground and bringing down painting frames with it, each item falling with a bang. Without hesitation he ran for her, pale hand covering up another shouted spell. She hit the wall with a thud, hands trapped between them.

"Shut up," he hissed.

She let out a muffled scream and struggled against him, trying to pry her hands free. Draco pressed into her even closer, frantically looking back.

Ginny started kicking ineffectually at his leg, only succeeding in stubbing his toe. When Draco looked back to her, she kicked harder, her throat ragged from protests. "Do you want us to fucking die, you stupid bint?" He seethed, panicked. His hot breath collided with her forehead. "Cut it out."

He was taller than her, almost as tall as any one of her brothers, and looking up at him was hard when his body was plastered over hers, but she caught a terrified look in his stormy grey eyes that made her pause. Then it was gone as he looked behind his shoulder again, only the long milky-white slope of his neck above her.

After a still moment he turned back to her with a steely gaze, his words sounding through clenched teeth. "I'm going to take your wand and let you go, Weasley," he whispered, "and you're going to keep your mouth shut unless you've a death wish, understood?"

Nodding was a difficult task, but she managed to move her head underneath his strength. Draco twisted his neck to check the hallway again, and Ginny tried to as well, curiosity getting the better of her.

A dark tapestry and broken frames cluttered the floor, but nothing was beyond that- not that she could see underneath his arm- just a harmless stone horse and a wall. It took her a moment to realize he was looking down on her again, a scowl on his face, somehow looking smug and belittling even in a dirty and discomposed state. He shifted slightly and plucked her wand from her grasp before she could stop him, fingers loosening around her mouth slowly. He rose an eyebrow, waiting for her to lash out or yell or both. She didn't and a second passed, and then he stepped away, wiping his hand on his robes with a look of disgust.

"You almost got me killed," he accused.

"A Bat-Bogey Hex wouldn't have done you in," she quipped back, looking down the hall again and then to her wand. "Unfortunately."

"No, but it could have gotten us both killed regardless," he snarled.

"What," she questioned, "are you talking about, Malfoy?"

"Fenrir Greyback."

A little gasp found its way into her lungs, but she didn't have time to study his hard expression for the truth. At that moment he turned to stalk down the hall to her right, stuffing her wand inside one of his pockets. She had no choice but to follow, legs rushing to catch up with him. He kept his gaze ahead, switching his wand to the hand furthest from her.

"He was here?" She choked out, thinking of Bill, rage pumping through her veins. "Where is he?"

"Eating," Draco replied morbidly. "Is there a reason why you're following me?" He clipped, already knowing the answer.

"You have my fucking wand, Malfoy," she answered, red splotches rising on her cheeks.

"Oh, do I?" He tempered in a lilting tone. He shot her a disconcerting grin, his white teeth long.

"Give it back," she ordered.

"You almost just hexed me, Weasley," he said patronizingly. "Point of fact: that's all you've been doing every time I save your ungrateful arse. How daft do you think I am?"

"Quite daft, actually," she replied harshly.

"Another point of fact: you shouldn't insult the person you're trying to get something from."

"Malfoy, I need a wand." Tears stung her eyes. She was maddeningly close to shedding the frustrated drops, much to her annoyance. The last fifteen minutes were starting to catch up with her- the last few hours were bearing down at her.

The last place she thought she'd end up was here, Draco Malfoy withholding her only means of protection, wondering why he hadn't tried to hex her, and why he didn't want her dead. The real point of fact, she knew, was that he was a Death Eater. He'd let in Greyback the first time around. He was responsible for Bill and for Dumbledore and for everything bad that had happened last year.

And yet he'd saved her life and was making no action to harm her, besides stripping her of the only thing she could use, and only at the demand of his bodily safety. Ginny frowned, studying his pale gaunt complexion with bubbling anger, knowing his worry was justified.

"We all need a lot of things, Weasley," he paused, each word sardonic. "Now be a love and sod off, and if you won't sod off, be quiet."

"I will not 'be a love and'-"

"But I'd rather you sod off," he added.

Throat blocked up and hands itching, she shoved his shoulder hard, his back hitting the wall violently, fast steps stopped short. Stunned, his eyes widened at her furious face, his already messy blond hair flattening in an odd array against an empty portrait. "This is a war, Malfoy," she seethed. He realized her light eyes were a darker color than he had believed them to be, almost matching the dusted freckles dotting her entire face. "If you don't give me my wand back, I might die, and then all your efforts will have been in vain."

He stared at her for a long time, his face blank. Ginny held his eyes with an unwavering determination, fist still closed around the expensive cloth adorning his shoulder, frantically searching his gaze for a hint of anything, but nothing would yield past whatever mask he had put up.

Finally, when she couldn't take the silence anymore, his lips parted in a puff of breath, hand coming up to encircle her wrist. "I don't care if you die, Weasley," he said, loosening her grip. "I just don't feel like having your death on my conscience."

"So give me a wand," she replied evenly, not breaking from his glower, from the sneer that was forming, or from the aching hold he had on her wrist.

His expression hardly changed, only a tick in his jaw giving his hesitation away. "Remember that you owe me," he said in a low voice, so low she had to shift closer to catch the words. A flare of hope dared to enter her; she held her breath in anticipation, but then he smiled very slightly, dropping her hand. "And since you owe me, I don't have to give you anything."

"Malfoy-" She started, but his eyes flashed and he looked away, holding up a hand to silence her. "What-?"

"For once in your life, be quiet," he spat at her, teeth gritting. He straightened, looking up and down the hall carefully. "I heard something."

"Well, it's bound to happen when you have ears." She quipped out the sarcasm coolly, but the bottom of her stomach was brewing with unease. Ginny reached into her pocket subconsciously for a wand, swallowing when she realized it wasn't there.

He ignored her. "I have to hide," he muttered, and then took off down the hall.

"Hide?" Ginny said, mouth agape, right on his heels. "You're going to hide, you coward?"

"Not all of us are self-sacrificing Gryffindors whose one wish is to die for some hair-brained cause," he snapped. "Now like I said before: piss off or shut up before your mouth starts attracting attention."

"I wouldn't have to attract attention if-" He spun around and Ginny almost collided with his lean torso, a surprised sound emitting from her throat. "You don't know when to quit, do you?" He opened his mouth to say something else, but this time Ginny heard it: a muffled rapping. Startled and scared, she jumped back, crimson hair slashing the air as she searched for its source. "What was that?"

Draco didn't answer, instead turning again, pace more hurried than before. Ginny was right on his heels, breath shallowing and heart racing, eyes zipping to and fro. She heard two more thuds and sped up. The end of the hall was nearing, but Draco was going straight for a doorknob, hand already reaching to grasp it. It jiggled underneath his ministrations but didn't open.

"Alohomora," he commanded, trying again, this time pulling at the slab. "Fuck."

"What is it?" She squeaked.

"It's one of Filch's fucking closets," he explained, muttering another spell without luck. "Umbridge locked them all-effing special for him fifth year."

There was another scratching sound, and Ginny pushed him out of the way, taking a chance at the door herself. "Wait- I thought of something," she breathed suddenly. "Give me my wand."

Draco let out a nervous distracted laugh, backing up. "Real cute, Weasley. We have to find another door."

There was that noise again. Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought it sounded closer, louder. "No!" She gasped, nearly reaching out for him before he could slide away and leave her there. "It'll work, really, I promise! Hermione taught me!"

"Fine. Tell me what it is."

"Malfoy, it's- there's this complicated flick-"

A pounding sound distracted them and they both turned- at the apex of the hall was a large spider, its spindly legs struggling at the corner, gaping mouth opening and closing in an echoing screech.

"Malfoy!" She turned back to him, extending her hand.

He was paler than before, grey eyes glued to the creature. Ginny grabbed his robes with a tug, hand reaching inside for a hidden pocket, shakily grasping her wand and wrenching it out. Draco started at her actions, coming closer as she sliced at the air intricately. "Expositus," she choked out, tearing her eyes away long enough to see the spider tugging a leg from around the tight corner.

Draco grabbed a fistful of her collar tightly, his breath flushing hotly at her cheek. "Hurry up."

She didn't have time to retort. A green swirl rose from the lock. Before it even cleared, another spell was leaving her. "Finite incantatem."

The door opened, and the spider fell into the hall. Draco all but pushed her inside, his body tight against hers in the enclosed space. A few things fell over in the rush and the instant darkness as he slammed the door behind them. Ginny could feel a shelf digging into her back painfully, and something was poking her ankles. Her side ached from whatever had fell on it, and Draco Malfoy smelled of dirt and fire and some musky cedar incense that tickled her nose. He exhaled, and she felt the moist breath on her forehead.

"Took you long enough," he sniped, leaning back against the door and putting a good inch of space between them. "Lumos."

Light flooded the darkness, illuminating her face. Ginny was looking up at him, frazzled, knuckles white around her wand. She pushed red tresses away from her face, eyes tracing his features. Outside, the arachnid was scuttling down the hall, legs thudding on the ground.

"Saved us, didn't I?"

"Sort of," he nearly agreed.

"Does this make us even?"

"No," he smirked. "I saved your life. You opened a door."

"I opened a door to save our lives," she argued.

"You opened a door to save your life, Weasley," he noted. "I just happened to stick around."

"That doesn't make any sense," she protested. "I opened the door for me an-"

"Glad you agree."

She felt like she could hit him right across his pompous face, and she almost did. "I don't know what you're playing at-"

"I'm not playing, Weasley," he hissed, leaning closer. In the darkness his silvery eyes seemed to cut right through her, and his grip tightened over his shrouded forearm. "This is a war, as you already volunteered to enlighten."

"Then whose side are you on?" She bit back, hands curling into fists. His mouth twitched and the dispraising expression he was wearing for her hesitated.

Draco rubbed at his wrist and her vision trickled down to the movement. She could feel him stiffen in the closed space and he immediately desisted, his voice harsh as he finally answered. "I'm not on your side, if that's what you were hoping. I'm not on anyone's side."

"So you really do just want to get out of here alive."

"Yes," he confirmed shortly, looking away from her. "Now that I've assuaged your curiosity, will you shut up?"

"So then what about your mark?" The question left her before she could rethink the words. His gaze found hers fast, jaw tightened, lips a thin line. His face drained, cheeks sucked of whatever color they had, and his grey irises were filled with cold fury. Yet she couldn't keep the words down, anymore than she could stop the momentary fear she felt at his changed demeanor. "You have one, right, Malfoy?" Harry said he did; she knew he did. "Doesn't that mean you've pledged allegiance? Sold your soul? Why are-?"

"Enough," he retorted, the chill in his voice sending an immediate shiver down her spine and halting her sibilant accusations.

She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, keeping her chin up, trying with every inch of her will not to look away.

The last time she had seen him had been before hols, boarding the train to go home, alone and frowning. She tried to remember the last time he had went out of his way to tease and torment anyone at all, to even impede her rebellion against the Carrows during the school year. His disinterest in hers, Neville's, and Luna's actions had only seemed fortunate at the time, but now she thought back on his prior countenance with confusion and also curiosity. For the life of her, she couldn't remember once in the past year that Draco Malfoy had shown any spark of life, and the realization hit her like a slap.

She couldn't stop the flood of damnable pity that entered her, mixing with her bubbling anger, not when she could see the dark half-circles underneath his hardened storm-colored eyes.

An icy voice cut through the reverberating moment like a knife. Ginny jumped slightly and Draco flinched, their mutual stares broken.

"You have fought valiantly," the voice said. "Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen."

She heard Draco scoff.

"Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured."

There was a pause, and Ginny looked to Draco with a questioning expression, one in which he only stared blankly at.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you."

Everything in her stilled.

"You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

"Harry," she breathed, blinking fast, her vision only filled with Draco's black robes.

"If you're going to faint, fall back, will you?" His voice was mocking and cruel and it took Ginny a moment to react, looking up at him slowly.

"Shut up, Malfoy," she bit out, her insides twisting viciously. One of his eyebrows rose and he looked almost amused, and she wanted to hit him, claw at him, tear him down and apart. Harry was out there somewhere; Harry, her Harry had been on his own for so long.

Ginny pressed the heel of her hand to a watering eye. Was it only a few hours ago that she had seen him again- finally? Standing there in the Room of Requirement, his messy hair longer, his green eyes ablaze with determination and courage, and she just remembered wanting to cry. She hated crying; she detested it. It was useless but somehow Harry always made her want to cry, because he was so stubborn and so self-righteous and too wonderfully self-sacrificing for his own good.

And now he was out there- one hour- he was out there alone again and he'd still pushed her away and he had one hour. One hour, and then Ginny didn't know what she'd do or how she'd deal with it if-

"Oh god, Harry," she cried, stumbling past something warm, hand clutching the door knob.

A body halted her, a grip found her wrists and wrenched her away from the exit, and suddenly Draco's face was close and pale and panicked. "Are you crazy?" He asked, the decibels high. "That thing is still out there!"

That didn't matter- she knew it didn't matter. She could fight it, and she could find Harry. It took her moment to realize she'd said the words aloud.

"Yeah, sure, Weasley," he responded, shaking her. "You'll take on a fucking Acromantula and then save your precious Potter from the Dark Lord."

"You don't understand," she gasped out, pushing at his chest, desperate to free her hands. "You don't understand, Malfoy! I have to find Harry before-"

"Before what? Before he dies?" The word slapped her in the face and she couldn't tear away from his cold, honest gaze. "Newsflash, red: everyone fucking dies, and your stupid boyfriend has had a literal stamp on his forehead for it since he was born."

"No!" She screamed, little fists banging into his chest. "You don't know anything! He's out there alone and he'll go, Malfoy! He'll do something stupid and try to save us all and he'll go and he'll go alone and he'll die alone! He'll leave me alone and I'm fucking tired of it!"

"Listen, Weasley," he hissed, and in the back of her mind Ginny could tell his patience was running thin, "as much as I enjoy being your personal therapist, you are not opening that door and letting a gigantic spider eat us for breakfast just for your martyr of a boyfriend. If he wants to go off and die, the more power to him."

A frustrated sound left her and she pulled away from him, blinking down more tears. Slightly surprised, she lifted her fingers to touch her wet cheeks before wiping the salty residue away quickly. "You're heartless." Her voice wobbled. "Is that all you care about? Your own slimy skin? Harry's trying to save us."

"Really," he replied, sneering. "Seems to me like he's trying to kill someone to save himself."

"To save us! To save me and you and everyone!"

"If he cared about you so much, Weasley, I wonder why you're so paranoid and 'fucking tired' of him leaving you?" He smiled, and Ginny blanched. His lips fell a centimeter, his tone falling an octave. "You may think I'm a coward, but I'm not going to leave my family after this is all done, no matter how it turns out."

"Harry wouldn't leave like-" She stopped, letting out a grating breath, hands curling into fists. "I didn't mean it like that-"

"But didn't you?"

That smile was back again, but for some reason, the amusement Ginny had observed before seemed less like amusement now, and more like knowing scorn. Her heart dropped to her stomach and she could feel her face flushing, ire raising with her blood.

He'd been gone so long, and he'd left her. She'd had him for a few blissful months, and then he'd slipped from her fingers for the greater good, for some greater good that sometimes she'd curse during sleepless nights. That above all else plagued her with guilt, because she'd rather him here with her, safe, instead of being the Boy Who Lived.

Instead of treating her like everyone else did. Porcelain and breakable. Instead of giving her a chance. He'd never given her a chance to prove anything.

"You don't know what you're talking about," she finally said, her voice calmer than she felt.

"Hole in one, then." He leaned against the door, watching her with a victorious glint in his eyes.

Ginny looked away, grimacing. She felt tired and her knees weakened. She wished she could sit down. Struggling, she muttered a "lumos" and felt around, slumping onto an overturned littered bucket by her feet, careful to avoid touching the closet's other occupant.

They were silent for awhile, Ginny counting down the hour in her head, Draco listening to the scuttling still sounding outside the door. Eventually the Slytherin slid to the floor with a sigh, long legs tucking to the side, avoiding hers. She lost her place somewhere around six minutes, eyes roaming the closet, studying boring objects before resting on Draco's white-blond head, her gut clenching with contempt.

She didn't want to admit it, but he was right. He was right about a lot of what he'd said, and he was right about going outside.

Abruptly he was looking over at her too, expression a blank slate. She flinched before righting herself, pursing her lips together and letting out a huff. "Where's your family?" She asked after a deep breath, the question rambled together.

For a moment he almost look surprised, but then she blinked, and his eyebrow was only cooly lifted. "Excuse me?"

"Where's your family?" She repeated. "You said you wouldn't leave them, so where are they? Terrorizing and killing?"

A horrid sneer curled his lip. "No."

He looked away, and Ginny felt a pang of regret for her accusing words that she promptly stifled. "I mean- what I meant was- I just was curious where they were, if it- if they mean so much to you."

"And what makes you so confident you're privy to that information?" Draco drawled.

She flushed. "I was just- just curious-"

"You've no right to know," he concluded before she could finish her stumbling sentence. "I don't feel particularly inclined to having a heart-to-heart with you."

Flustered, she tripped over a few sputtered words, anger sparking. "I just thought-"

"You 'just' think and do a lot of things, don't you?" A short laugh filled the air between them. "Even if I wanted to spill my deepest darkest thoughts out for someone to gawk out, I wouldn't tell you."

"Why not?" Somehow she knew the question was pointless and his answer would only goad her more.

"For someone good and righteous and all that hogwash, you sure don't give anyone the benefit of the doubt."

"That's not true-"She argued fiercely, twisting to better glare at him.

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not-"

"It's gone," he cut her off.

Ginny looked at him, confused, before it dawned on her what he was talking about. She strained her ears, but she couldn't hear anything outside the door. The creature had at last heeded Lord Voldemort's orders and found a way out.

"So you can go now and die along side Potter."

She rose, bristling. "And you're going to stay here?"

"Yes," he answered, lazily glancing up at her.

For some reason a blanket of hesitation fell over her limbs; they didn't want to move as she stared down at him. "But how will you know who's won?"

His eyes narrowed in suspicion; he studied her closely, his scrutiny enough to make her fidget. "I'll figure it out."

"Do you want me to- to come get you if...?" She trailed off, teeth grabbing her bottom lip.

He didn't answer for several seconds, still contemplating her, his eyes locked with hers in an unrelenting hold. "No."

She nodded, ignoring the unease that accompanied offering a Malfoy a favor and instead turning to leave, nearly tripping over his limbs on the way out and shutting the door without a backwards look.

The hall was empty. She took a moment to inhale fresher air, to sigh out the lingering apprehension that she felt, thinking about the Slytherin just feet away. And then she followed her feet back into the paused battle.

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