Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belongs to J. K. Rowling. I own nothing and make absolutely no money out of this. It's all for fun! Characters you don't recognise are from my own imagination and belong to me.

Author's Notes: Well what can I say except my love for HP and this fic is not over and my muse is certainly back! Life again got in the way of my writing but I have to admit that seeing the final Harry Potter movies have helped me get back to the fic and your continued reviews have given me more motivation than anything else. To all my readers still out there, this chapter is for you!

Enjoy :)

..~**~..

Chapter 16

"So, will the Wizengamot meet Lord Malfoy's demands then?" Hermione asked, smiling politely.

Draco gritted his teeth, glaring darkly at the Ministry representative sitting next to her.

He was clearly losing his mind. His freedom was already on the line with his upcoming trial and yet he was just about ready to hex Amelia Bones' secretary himself and in the middle of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement no less.

What the hell is wrong with me?

But he already knew the answer as he turned his head to face Granger, who he knew was also struggling to keep a diplomatic tone.

"With you here, Hermione, how could I ever say no?" Derek Moon answered her with a wink.

If looks could kill, the bastard would be long gone – probably tortured, killed and then fed to werewolves. However, Amelia Bones' secretary didn't notice the looks Draco kept throwing him, because he was too preoccupied with the brunette sitting next to him.

And it had been that way all week. Ever since Granger had come back from her short break following her cancelled wedding, young single men had flocked to her like flies. Draco had never really realised how popular Granger actually was in the wizarding world until he'd caught several of his male employees suddenly starting to talk and even flirt with her. Something which they'd never done before.

It was only natural, Draco told himself repeatedly. She was single now and not only England's youngest Interrogator, but also a Defeater of Voldemort after all. Ever since she had left Weasley at the altar, it seemed she'd suddenly become England's most desirable woman and although Draco would have liked to disagree with that statement, he simply couldn't.

After all, even he had to admit that Granger was stunning and that he hadn't been able to keep his eyes off her for the past week. During the whole meeting with Moon to determine in what manner the trial would proceed, he hadn't been able to keep himself from subtly staring at her from time to time. She was sitting opposite him, focused on the documents before her and trying to ignore Moon's flirtatious tone. Her hair was pulled back with chopsticks, letting random curly brown locks frame her face. Her white blouse was open at the top, revealing the slightest hint of her cleavage and her creamy white skin. Draco actually liked her choice of clothes, often a white or baby blue blouse with pencil skirts or black trousers - nothing too revealing, but always showing off her curves.

Unfortunately, Draco wasn't the only one to enjoy the view as he noticed Moon ogling at her once more. The bastard!

Well, enough was enough.

"If we're quite done here," he cut in icily, "I'd like to return to my office. I have a lot of work awaiting me."

He felt satisfied as he caught the look of relief in Granger's eyes.

"Yes, I think we have everything we need now," she continued, gathering the papers strewn across the table hastily. "Thanks for your time, Derek, you were a great help."

Her sweet smile, Draco noted, looked rather fake.

"Anytime, Hermione," Moon answered with a cocky grin, gathering his belongings quickly.

"I just need a moment alone with my client and then we'll be out of your way," she told him, glancing towards the door.

Taking the hint, the secretary stood up to leave. "Sure, take all the time you need."

As soon as he left and they were finally alone in the conference room, Granger sat back in her chair, tilting her head back and sighed loudly.

"Damn pervert," she muttered to herself.

Draco merely raised an eyebrow.

"Before you say anything," she quickly explained, looking back at him. "Yes, Derek's always been like that with me and no, I've never given him reason to think that we were ever more than colleagues."

"Whoever you flirt with, Granger, is strictly none of my business," he told her amused.

Her reaction was immediate as her face flushed red. "I do not flirt with - !"

"Whatever you say," Draco continued, glancing back down at the documents before him. "Either way, I should congratulate you for the outcome of this meeting. All of my demands will be met by the Ministry and it seems I might actually have a chance to win."

"Don't get your hopes up yet, Malfoy," Granger retorted, her eyes flicking through the list of demands and the slight alterations made in red. "I still have to come up with a defense concerning Dante's letter and knowing Abigail, it won't be easy."

He shrugged lightly. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

"By the way," she added with a frown, locking eyes with him once more. "Don't forget that during the trial, you're not allowed to make contact with any of the witnesses, Abigail or the opposing side. If you do or if they try to, it'll be noted at that trial and counted against you."

"That's fine."

"Which reminds me, Abby will have to find somewhere else to stay during that week," Granger muttered to herself, before turning towards her black leather bag and digging around for something.

Draco froze as he caught her words. "She's living with you?" he asked, keeping his tone carefully neutral.

Granger froze immediately, realising her mistake. "Yes, once Blaise had come after her, she didn't have much choice," she snapped at him. "She could have been killed!"

"I doubt that."

"Then how about raped?" Granger suddenly yelled, taking him aback. "For goodness sake Malfoy, don't you remember anything from Hogwarts? Don't you realise how ruthless Blaise is? And it's even worse when it comes to Abigail – don't you dare try and deny it."

"I won't deny it, but it's none of your concern," he hissed in return, although her words unnerved him.

He had known Blaise for a long time and he had always trusted him to do as he was told, but it was true that sometimes the Zabini heir got carried away. Draco had always known that Blaise's father had never trusted him and suspected that he continuously misled his son into thinking that he could be a better leader. Blaise had never faulted or directly disobeyed Draco before, but after the events at Lestrange Castle, Draco didn't know what to think anymore. Blaise, after all, had been his ally for years, ever since Hogwarts and on some level, Draco even considered him a friend.

Probably the only one he had.

And yet, hadn't Draco purposely kept Blaise away from matters concerning Abigail before, knowing how obsessed he was with the Serpent girl? And hadn't Blaise and his father, in turn, purposely kept Draco in the dark about the Orb of Eris?

Draco had always thought, even back when they were in Slytherin, that they both desired power and control over their lives and not be mere puppets among Voldemort's hands. However, after the incident with Smith, Draco had a feeling that his friend was slowly growing unsatisfied with those goals and desired revenge on the Order instead.

Or perhaps Draco was the only one who was satisfied with what they had built over the past three years.

However, the thought was unsettling. If Blaise didn't get his way then he could very well pose a threat to Draco and along with his father, they could even rally the remaining Death Eaters to their side. If that ever were the case, then Draco feared what would happen next.

After all, Granger, as always, was right. Blaise could be ruthless.

"None of my concern, of course," Grange answered bitterly, breaking him out of his thoughts. "But when the trial is over and you don't need me anymore, will you send Blaise after me then too?"

Draco felt his whole body tense at the accusation. Her words had caught him completely off guard that he could do nothing but stare at the moment.

"When I'm dead and buried, will you be satisfied then?" she continued in a whisper.

Draco remained speechless, reigning in his gut instinct to tell her that he could never hurt her.

Realising he wasn't about to answer, Granger abruptly stood up, frowning in anger and disgust. However, as she turned away, the obvious hurt behind her eyes prompted him to speak.

"Granger…"

He wanted to tell her. He needed to tell her that she was wrong. That he could never hurt her, because the mere thought of seeing her dead – of even ordering her death was inconceivable.

You're too important to me.

But he couldn't say the words she needed to hear because something inside him was frozen.

She didn't look back at him. Instead she spoke with her back to him, facing the door.

"Was it you?" she asked softly, breaking his silence. "After I cancelled the wedding with Ron, I thought the press would slaughter me for what I did to him, but there wasn't a single article that mentioned it. I only know one person in Britain apart from the Minister with that kind of power and I need to know. Was it you?"

This time, his carefully planned response seemed to roll of his tongue. "I didn't want all the bad press to distract you from the trial."

I didn't want you to suffer.

She nodded, looking slightly over her shoulder as she did, pausing for a moment before finally speaking again.

"About the wedding," she began, her voice neutral, "don't think for a second that you had anything to do with the fact that I cancelled it."

Draco kept quiet, although something told him that her statement wasn't entirely true.

"Nothing will ever happen between us again," she told him firmly, turning halfway to meet his gaze, "because no matter how I felt about you before during our final year at Hogwarts, to me you'll always be a monster."

Watching her swiftly leave the room, Draco tried to ignore the sudden biting cold building up in his stomach.

..~**~..

Draco hadn't lied when he had told Moon that he had a lot of work awaiting him. Truth be told, he was swamped. Accumulating so many companies under Malfoy Inc. over the years had him on a tight schedule all year round with many contracts and meetings to oversee, projects and reports to manage, not to mention mountains of documents to sign, which his assistant never failed to bring to him in his office every morning. However, as Draco was trying to work his way through the first round of papers after returning from the Ministry, his mind kept wandering back to his conversation with Granger.

But when the trial is over and you don't need me anymore, will you send Blaise after me then too?

He'd never given it much thought about it till now since he'd always been preoccupied with Abigail and her family magic, but Granger, once again, was right. Once the trial was over and she was no longer needed, wouldn't Blaise, Dolohov or even Lestrange want to go after her, just to set an example? After all, Granger was probably the most famous Muggleborn in all of Great Britain since Voldemort's defeat and it wouldn't be long until the other Death Eaters decided to plan their revenge.

What would Draco tell them then?

A knock suddenly interrupted his thoughts and Blaise swept inside the office, shutting the door behind him, and strode up right to Draco's desk.

"We got her."

Draco merely raised an eyebrow at his friend's sudden entrance. "Blaise, it's still too early to play guessing games, so why don't you just -"

"We found Abigail," he immediately expanded, his lips twisting into a smile. "Mulciber and Dolohov just reported back this morning. They were able to track her down to a specific block of flats in Hogsmeade and saw her walk out again this morning. The whole place is protected with some pretty powerful wards, but at least we've been able to pinpoint her location."

Draco listened intently, already knowing where the conversation was headed.

"And that's not all," Blaise continued eagerly. "She's not alone. They saw the Mudblood come and go there more than once. Looks like it might be her flat. We knew she lived in Hogsmeade after all."

"They live together apparently," Draco added, cutting him short. "Granger let it slip this morning at our meeting."

Blaise's blue eyes gleamed. "Good, so we get them both."

Draco felt something in his blood boil. The exact previous thoughts were suddenly turning to reality and he didn't like it.

"No, we leave Granger out of this," he said without a trace of hesitation. "She's needed for the trial. Nothing can happen to her until the trial is over."

He clenched his jaw, hoping his face wouldn't give anything away.

"Fair enough," Blaise soon answered, although something in his tone sounded a little off. "However, Abigail is stubborn. You know how she is. She won't tell us what we want that easily. If you want her to spill her secrets, then you'll need to threaten with something… preferably someone she cares about."

"Don't worry about her teaching us her spells again," Draco told him, with a sly smile. "I'm sure we'll find a way to make her talk."

Remaining silent, Blaise merely stared at him, his face impassive. He obviously didn't agree with Draco, something which happened more frequently these days. He wanted Abigail back – that much was obvious and he had told Draco more than once. However, to what lengths Blaise would go to kidnap her, make her talk and even claim her back was less known by Draco, although he had a bad feeling Blaise would probably do whatever it took. Nonetheless, Draco was still in charge and Blaise had to follow orders.

"Tell Mulciber and Dolohov to stay in Hogsmeade for the day," Draco said after a moment. "You'll join them at nightfall and then wait for Abigail to return. Make it quick and bring her to the Parkinsons. No one will suspect her to be there and the estate is no longer being watched by Aurors. I'll join you as soon as I can."

Blaise nodded, and before he could ask anything more, a knock was heard on the office door.

"Keep me informed," Draco ordered quickly, before his secretary, Miss Jones, appeared in the doorway with more files to be signed.

..~**~..

Harry checked his watch for the tenth time.

Abigail was late.

She had sent him an owl earlier in the week to arrange training with him as she had told him, but now she was officially fifteen minutes late.

She's not coming, Harry thought as he sat back down again on his new cream-coloured sofa in front of his new plasma screen TV surrounded by a few cardboard boxes, all waiting to be unpacked.

It nagged him that she had arranged the meeting only to end up letting him down and the thought quickly crossed his mind that maybe she had done it on purpose.

Just to spite him.

Harry frowned hard, not really sure how he felt about that. Of course he felt slightly guilty that Moody and Ron were apparently forcing these lessons on her, but surely they were more important than whatever was going on between them. However, something told him that Abigail probably didn't see things that way because of her anger and hurt.

She wanted nothing to do with him, that much was clear. It was obvious from the way she kept brushing him off whenever they had Order practice together and when Harry went out with the guys for drinks at the Hellfire Club. The only time she hadn't openly glared at him or purposely avoided him had been at Ron and Hermione's wedding. She had sought him out and asked for his help and for the first time, in a very long time, Harry had seen her old self again. At that moment, her dark eyes had no longer held any hint of anger or hurt that constantly reminded him of what he had done.

That day had thrown him back three years ago, when those dark brown eyes were once soft and familiar. That day, Harry had realised just how much he had missed her. The real Abigail… his Abigail.

Just then the doorbell rang and Harry jumped out of his seat, quickly dismissing his previous thoughts. Now was not the time to think about his feelings for her. The new Abigail still hated him and if he ever wanted to see the old one again, he'd have to earn her trust first.

Opening the door, he was relieved to see the girl before him. She was leaning against the doorway, carrying a large bag on one shoulder and breathing heavily.

"Hey, sorry I'm late," she greeted him quickly, trying to catch her breath. "I had to drop by home after work before coming here and I know I should have warned you, but owls take forever and I wanted to call you except I don't have your number. And then Fred dropped by and got really pissy with me when I told him I wasn't free this evening – but anyway, I'm here now."

Harry shook his head and invited her in, taking her large bag off her shoulder for her.

"You didn't have to cancel with Fred, you know," he said, putting down her bag by the couch. "The training won't take more than a couple of hours."

"Oh yeah, I know," she told him quickly, standing awkwardly by the door as her eyes took in the size of his brand new apartment. "I have to leave before 8:30, I… er, I have plans."

"That's fine," Harry answered, although her obvious discomfort along with the slight blush on her cheeks didn't go unnoticed. What exactly was she not telling him? "Do you want anything to drink before we start?"

She followed him hesitantly towards the open space kitchen, stopping midway to look at his numerous Quidditch trophies all stacked away in the same box.

"Just water, thanks."

He nodded, turning away to find a clean glass among his newly unpacked kitchen items.

Silence followed him and he suddenly felt nervous as he filled the cup with water. They weren't exactly on speaking terms since his return but Abigail was far from being a quiet person. She was going to be with him for the next two hours and if Harry didn't quickly think of something to say to her, then it was going to be a very long and awkward training session. However, any topic of conversation he could think of would probably end up in an argument. Maybe it was time he took Hermione's advice and finally told Abigail everything that had happened since he'd left. If he was ever going to tell her after all, now was probably the best opportunity he would get.

Turning around to face her again, he noticed she had her back turned and was staring intently at something. He stepped forward with the glass in one hand, but froze as he caught sight of the photoframe in her hands.

He finally realised why she had kept so quiet.

Between her hands she held a photo of them both, taken during the summer following Voldemort's defeat. Harry had planned a long holiday to some exotic place as he had promised Abigail and so they had spent the month in Thailand. The Muggle photo was a close-up of them on the beach, both in swim gear, and with Abigail perched on Harry's back, her arms wrapped around his neck. They both had golden tanned skin and bright smiles – they both looked incredibly happy. Harry had framed it for that reason. It reminded him of the time when he had been completely and truly happy and seeing it again caused something in his heart to jolt.

And judging from Abigail's expression, he wasn't the only one to feel that way.

"Merlin, we look young," Abigail said softly, her eyes focused on the picture in her hands. "You still wore your glasses back then."

"They made me fix my eyesight when I started playing Quidditch in Mexico," Harry explained, slightly relieved that the photo hadn't prompted an argument.

He handed her the drink. "Thanks," she told him, putting the frame back inside the box. "I can't believe you kept it."

"Why not?" Harry asked, turning to face her. "I took all my belongings with me when I left England."

She paused, surprised by his statement. "I thought when you left, you'd wanted to forget. I always thought you'd left because of… well, because of me."

Her voice fell to a whisper and Harry felt his stomach twist violently.

"Follow me," he said with a sigh and turned away down the corridor to his right.

"What? Where are you going?" she demanded from the lounge. He didn't answer, smiling instead as he heard her footsteps following him. He passed by his bedroom on one side and headed for the door at the far end of the corridor. Once inside the room, he headed straight for the tatami and waited for her at the centre.

She entered slowly, looking confused as hell until she caught sight of the dojo.

"No shit," she swore under her breath, spotting the large training room and multiple rack of weapons decorating the walls. "Your own bloody magically-enlarged room. Merlin, must be nice to have friends in high places at the Ministry."

Harry laughed at her typical cynicism as he sat down on his knees. "Yeah well, it still cost me a fortune," he pointed out.

She shrugged her shoes off before joining him on the mat, silently sitting cross-legged in front of him.

"Before we start," Harry spoke firmly, "I think I should clarify a few things. Like, for example, the real reason why I left England two and a half years ago."

Immediately, Abigail's head came up, her eyes carefully scanning Harry's face.

"I didn't leave because of you."

Taking a deep breath, Harry continued. "You remember just before the war, I kept getting these headaches, pretty vicious ones too. I kept thinking it was all linked to my scar, but even after Voldemort's defeat, they continued."

Abigail nodded slowly. "I remember."

"What you don't know is that I spoke to Dumbledore about them one day, probably just before we left for Thailand and he didn't seem surprised at all. In fact, he was even expecting me. He told me he had had the same headaches when he was younger. He told me it was normal for all wizards who had an extraordinary amount of magical power, for those who naturally drew a higher amount of magic towards them. These wizards were once called mages, but they are so rare nowadays that their existence is mostly forgotten. However, they still exist and apparently I'm one of them. The headaches were due to the high amount of magic that surrounds my body at any given time and the only way to appease them was to learn how to control, channel and eventually release the magic. Just like first-years at Hogwarts learn how to channel the magic around them into their wands to perform spells, I had to learn how to channel high amounts of magic through my body in order to perform —"

"Wandless magic," Abigail cut in, unable to hide her surprise.

"Exactly."

"That still doesn't explain why you left," she retorted, "Nor where you went."

"Japan," Harry answered, carefully studying Abigail's reaction. "I spent six months in Japan. I would have stayed in England if I could have but Dumbledore couldn't exactly put his duties aside to teach me and the only other person he knew who could help was an old friend of his who lived in Japan. So that's where I went. It was the best thing to do. I had to learn to control my excess of magic that was causing all my headaches and going to Japan was my only option. Staying would have been dangerous. Drawing in so much magic without knowing how to properly control and release it was dangerous for myself and for others. Dumbledore told me so right from the beginning. In order to control my magic I had to leave, get away from everyone essentially and train by myself with only the help of his friend in case anything went wrong. I decided that I would leave sometime at the start of your seventh year. I thought then we would both be away for most of the year and see each other again for your graduation. That's why I wasn't actively seeking a job after our trip to Thailand; I had planned it all out already."

"Why didn't I know about this?" Abigail asked in a small voice.

"Would you have let me go?" Harry replied just as softly. "I was dangerous then, but you would have followed me no matter what. I had to leave without you knowing, it was the only way. I couldn't commit to any sort of relationship while my magic wasn't under control and so I decided to leave without telling anyone but Dumbledore."

Although his face remained calm, his heart was racing.

"That day at the Three Broomsticks I had already made up my mind about leaving and ended up picking a fight with you thinking it would make things easier. I never should have left you like that. It was utterly stupid and I know it now. Dumbledore tried to reason with me but I made him promise to keep it all a secret and left. Back then, I really thought it would be for the best. I thought that way I would finally be doing something for myself, concentrate on my training and that you could forget all about me and concentrate on your studies and career… but I know now… I know I was wrong and I'm sorry."

He paused to let that statement settle, but her face remained blank.

"I guess all my questions have finally been answered," she replied, without a hint of sarcasm or anger, "but it's too late. No matter your reasons for leaving, I still spent six months looking for you, thinking you'd been captured or were dead. So no - no matter what you say – you're not forgiven."

"I'm not expecting you to forgive me," Harry spoke up, "but I hope in time you might come to trust me again – for the sake of the Order."

He wanted more than just that. That much was clear to him, but he knew it would be a long time before he could even hope to befriend her again.

Abigail barely acknowledged his words. "How about we just get this lesson over with?"

He blinked in return, not sure why she had remained so passive during the entire exchange. Abigail had no talent at controlling her emotions, when she was angry she always lashed out. Didn't she care at all?

"Um - sure," Harry answered before standing up. "I guess we can start, but before we do, you must know that each lesson will drain your magic so you must always bring Snape's potion with you to our lessons and you must never cast any spells until the next day. Dumbledore has assured me you'll never be assigned to any missions following a lesson."

"Fine."

"We'll start with the basics," Harry continued, walking over to her. "You can already do wandless magic through some of your family spells. Now I want you to prepare for one of your spells, without actually casting it and try and sense the magic gathering around you. Once you actually begin to sense it, we'll try channeling it through your body and into your hands."

She gave him a doubtful look but eventually huffed, closed her eyes and began to focus. A couple of hours later, Abigail was still struggling to sense the magic around her. It was just as bad as when Harry had first started training.

"Ok, let's stop for today. Keep practicing this week for short periods of time. You'll get it eventually," Harry encouraged her.

"Yeah, whatever," Abigail answered, shivering slightly from the cold sweat drenching her clothes. The training seemed to have taken more energy out of her than Harry had thought. Surely her family magic was more powerful than what he'd seen today. It seemed Abigail's magic had already been half drained at the start of her training.

Noticing her shivering, he opened his mouth before he could stop himself. "You can take a shower here if you want."

She looked up and eyed him suspiciously.

"There's a changing room with a shower, just outside the dojo. You can use it anytime," he added, hoping she wouldn't take his offer the wrong way.

For a second she seemed unsure whether or not to accept, but finally nodded and silently left the room. Sighing to himself, Harry shook his head and followed her outside, catching a glance of her large shoulder bag as she slipped inside the changing room.

Harry changed clothes in his own bedroom, throwing on a T-shirt and jeans for the night. Seconds later, the doorbell rang and Harry found a cheerful looking Ron behind the door.

"Hey, you ready to go?"

"Sure, just hold on a second. Abigail's still here," Harry said, letting him inside before going to find his jacket.

"Oh right, the training," Ron remembered while gazing at the large-screen TV. "How did it go?"

Before Harry could answer him, heeled footsteps were heard in the corridor and Abigail emerged into the living-room, looking all dressed up. She was wearing a classic black dress with black high-heeled shoes and her hair was neatly twirled into a bun. Harry couldn't help but stare at the black dress, perfectly framing her body and showing off more than necessary.

"Ron," she greeted coldly, stopping in her tracks. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm not here to spy on you if that's what you're thinking. Harry and Dan are going out with the rest of their Quidditch team and Harry invited me along," Ron explained, glancing back sharply at her. "But it seems like we're not the only ones with plans for tonight. So who's the lucky guy? Don't tell me it's still Luke because you know how much we all hate him and if Ginny finds out —"

"It's Mike Roberts," Abigail cut in, dumping her large shoulder bag on the floor, before fiddling inside to retrieve a smaller leather handbag.

Harry's fists tightened considerably around his jacket. He knew something was up the other night at the Hellfire Club when he saw them talking together.

"Could you?" Abigail asked Ron, pointing to the bag. Her silver earrings dangled wildly with every turn of head and matched the glow of her makeup. "I'm not allowed to use any magic tonight."

He retrieved his wand from inside his jacket and shrunk the shoulder bag to the size of a keyring.

"Thanks."

"Mike Roberts? Poor bloke," Ron chuckled, shaking his head. "Guess he doesn't know what he's in for."

Abigail shot him a dark look.

"Just kidding," Ron protested, putting his hands up in defense.

Abigail smiled coyly as she smoothed down her dress with both her hands. "You boys have fun, okay?"

She slipped into her white trench coat and headed for the door. "I guess I'll see you both tomorrow for training."

"Sure, have a good night." Ron waved her off whilst Harry remained silent, keeping his eyes on her and then on the front door after she had left.

"Careful, mate," Ron spoke up in a sly tone, "That's my friend you're gawking at."

Caught unawares, Harry gave a feeble laugh, turning away from his friend's watchful eyes.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, reading him like an open book. "You still have feelings for her. Hermione was right!"

"Wait, Ron, you —"

"I always thought that she was seeing too much into things, you know how girls are. Her and Ginny are always nattering on about you two —"

"Ron —" Harry continued, trying to get his attention.

"— and I mean you just left Abby one day without any warning and she literally crumbled apart, became a wreck. And well, she pretty much still is so really there's no chance in hell that you could ever make it up —"

"Ron!"

Ron finally stopped and stared at him.

"Just drop it, okay?" Harry told him, annoyed. "I know what I did, alright? So just leave it and don't you tell anyone. It doesn't matter in any case because she's dating someone now."

"What, Mike Roberts?" Ron replied with a scowl. "Are you kidding? That guy will bore her to tears before the end of the night. Trust me, he doesn't stand a chance."

Harry nodded, not really sure what to say next.

"Harry, you know I was joking with you, right?" Ron spoke up again, his scowl turning into a wide grin. "I've noticed the way you look at her a few times now and hell I say all hope is not lost. Now come on, let's go find the rest of your team before someone else chats up that hot Chaser girl."

Harry shook his head with a sigh but quickly followed his friend out through the front door, a small smile playing on his lips.

..~**~..

Ginny watched from afar her son sitting in his high chair attempting to peel a mandarin by himself. Although the sight was amusing, Ginny couldn't bring herself to smile.

She had been looking forward to her date with Christopher, her ex-boyfriend, all week, but she still hadn't found anyone to babysit Ryan for the evening. He was supposed to take her out to dinner in Central London, but Ginny wasn't sure a crying toddler would be particularly welcome in a busy restaurant.

However her parents as well as Bill and Fleur had been called to Grimmauld Place for an important meeting and Fred didn't know the first thing about taking care of a two-year old. Abigail was on her own date with Mike Roberts while Harry and Ron were out for the evening drinking Merlin knows where. Her neighbour Suzie was no longer an option since they had found out that she was a half-vampire, although Ginny was sorely tempted to call her anyway. All the other babysitters she knew already had plans or hadn't answered her calls.

There was only one more person she could turn too and the idea didn't exactly thrill her.

Ginny hadn't talked to Hermione since the wedding and was still upset with her for leaving her brother on their wedding day, but Hermione was probably the only person left without any plans on a Friday night. Or perhaps she was busy working on Malfoy's trial?

Panicked at the thought of having to cancel her date, Ginny quickly dialed Hermione's number, but was disappointed to hear her answering machine. She left a quick message explaining her situation and hung up, hoping Hermione would be free and would answer her in time.

Turning back to Ryan, she helped him finish his mandarin and then scooped him up to take him back to his room. If all went well, she could finish getting dressed and drop off Ryan at Hermione's in time for her date.

Just as Ginny was headed for her own room, her phone rang.

"Hi Ginny," Hermione greeted quietly as she picked up. "I got your message."

"Hey," Ginny answered, not really sure how to talk to her friend anymore.

"Um, I'm at work right now, but if you give me about fifteen minutes I'll be home to watch over Ryan for the night," Hermione continued hurriedly, obviously feeling just as awkward about the conversation.

"That's great," Ginny told her, "Everyone else is busy tonight. I didn't want to bother you, but —"

"Oh no, don't worry, it's fine," Hermione cut in quickly. "I love taking care of Ryan, you can ask anytime. It's just I… what I mean to say is that… Are you still mad at me, Gin?"

"Yes… no… I don't know," she finally answered with a sigh. "I just wish you had told me before about your doubts. I wish you hadn't left Ron the way you did, you really hurt him, Hermione, and as much as I care for you, he's my brother."

"I know and I'm really sorry. I didn't want things to happen the way they did, but I… it's just that I…"

"Look how about we talk about this at your place," Ginny suggested, feeling her discomfort. "That way we can talk about it in person rather than on the phone. I'm sure I'll have some time left before meeting Chris."

"Ok sure. You won't be able to Apparate to the flat or enter without me with the tightened security so it's probably best if we meet outside. See you in a few."

"See you in a bit," Ginny added before hanging up. She paused, sighing softly at how awkward things seemed to be. She hated being mad at her friends and she had almost never been angry at Hermione before.

"Right, time to get ready," she spoke out loud, trying to focus on the task ahead and picked out a simple dark blue dress from her closet.

..~**~..

Ten minutes later, Ginny was standing in Hogsmeade holding Ryan in her arms, after he'd unfortunately tripped on the pavement, and walking down Hermione's street or at least the street she thought her friend lived in. Since Hermione's flat had become Unplottable, her block of flats was no longer visible to anyone unless accompanied by Hermione or Abigail. Ginny had no choice but to wander down the street until she came across a familiar-looking yellow house, which seemed abandoned. She decided to set Ryan down on the unkept front lawn until Hermione showed up.

"You're getting too heavy for Mummy, pumpkin," she told him with a laugh, ruffling his black hair.

She looked up and down the street, but saw no sign of Hermione yet. The sun had began to set and the street seemed pretty much empty except for a tall wizard headed her way. Realising she was early, she bent down, noticing Ryan's shoelace had become undone.

She barely saw the jet of red light until it hit her shoulder.

Ginny tried to scream but no sounds came out. She tried to move, to pick up Ryan and run, but her body refused and instead slowly fell forward on her face.

She felt nothing at all.

She had been petrified.

"Hello, Ginny."

Her heart skipped a beat. Although lying down on her face, unable to see, she still recognised Blaise Zabini's voice.

A kick to her side caused her body to topple over on her back. Three Death Eaters, dressed all in black, stood tall above her.

Blaise Zabini stood between them unmasked.

"Take the brat," he snarled to his left and immediately the Death Eater stepped forward and snatched Ryan from the ground.

No! NO!

Ginny was forced to watch as the Death Eater took her son in his arms and Disapparated from sight.

RYAN!

She wanted to scream. She wanted to fight. But there was nothing she could do except watch as Blaise crouched over her, wand in hand.

"I'm going to lift the Full Body Bind," he said dangerously. "but if you so much as breathe a sound, I will kill the brat myself."

With a flick of his wand, the curse was lifted and her limbs fell to the ground. Immediately the pain from her head and ribs kicked in but it was nothing compared to not knowing where her son had been taken.

Although she wanted nothing more than to find her wand and kill them all, fear for her son and herself gripped her and she dared not move. Tears, however, welled up in her eyes.

"Now, now, there's no need for tears," Blaise drawled, his gloved hand slowly tracing its way down her cheek. "Your son will be perfectly safe with us so long as you do as I say."

She shivered at his touch, her terrified eyes closely watching his wand.

"Besides, you brought this upon yourself, you and your precious Order."

His hand brutally snatched her face, his tight grasp forcing her to look at him. "I'm only going to say this once, so you better listen closely, little Weasley. If you ever want to see your son again, alive, you'd better tell Abigail that we're waiting for her. Tell her to come alone. And tell her that she'd better hurry if she doesn't want innocent blood on her hands."

His grip tightened and Ginny closed her eyes in pain, tears leaking down her face.

"Do you understand?"

Ginny nodded, barely seeing him through her tears.

He let go and stood up. Still looking down at her, he smirked. "Are you sure?

She nodded again, desperate to get away from him, but also knowing that he wouldn't leave so easily.

"Do you see that, Carrow?" he continued, looking over his shoulder. "The little Weasley here will follow my every command."

He turned to face her once more and a feeling of dread overtook her at once.

"I think she deserves a reward." His dark, heartless eyes stared into her own horrified ones.

"Crucio!"

..~**~..

Evil Blaise...

Well there you go, many of you thought that Hermione would be the one to be kidnapped but it was always planned out to be little Ryan. Thank you all for reading and please drop a review if you can. Feel free to give me writing advice or point out any spelling/grammar mistakes. This chapter hasn't been beta-read but I hope it isn't too terrible. So please REVIEW! :)

I'm currently looking for some good somewhat new Dramione fics to read since I've been out of the loop for a while. So let me know what y'all reading right now! :) My book recommendation for you is if you haven't read Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin, go read it now! (Or at least watch the excellent HBO series that recently came out). I'm in the middle of book 4 and I love it!

Next chapter: It's mostly Ryan's rescue, lots of action and some Dramione.