Ginny continued to sit, day in and day out, in the cold, sterile hospital, with nothing to do but think about her situation and what she could possibly do to get herself out of there to find her family. She waited, even, for Mrs. Malfoy to come back and give her the information she was longing for, but the only person she saw was a homely looking witch - who appeared to be a nurse - who cared for all of Ginny's needs. It was apparent that the only reason she was allowed to sleep in the bed rather than the dungeon was her pregnancy.

The days were slow and filled with agony, but with nothing to do and nobody to speak to, she could hardly be surprised about that. It gave her time to contemplate an escape, but none of her thoughts were anywhere near realistic. For starters, Narcissa and the nurse had come and gone only by use of magic, and Ginny still did not have access to her own, much less a wand to use.

In addition, she was still unable to move much. This, again, was probably fairly strategic. A strong captive was likely to be more uncooperative, and Ginny knew well enough that Narcissa Malfoy was not going to allow her to be anymore of a threat than she needed to be.

A loud pop rang through the otherwise silent ward, and Narcissa Malfoy stood before her once more.

"Are you at all obliged to cooperate with us, Miss Weasley?" Narcissa asked. It was quite obvious that the thought of them exchanging niceties was not something the older woman planned to entertain this time. "Perhaps my husband could even be persuaded to allowing you out of this room for a brief time if you are willing."

"My name," Ginny hissed through gritted teeth, "is Mrs. Malfoy."

The older woman rolled her eyes. "You are naught but a petulant child. You can't even see an opportunity that I'm placing in front of you, can you?"

"Forgive me if I find it a bit difficult to trust you. Perhaps if you're willing to give me a bit of information, I'll be more willing to help you."

Narcissa seemed pensive for a moment. "All right," she conceded. "I suppose a few answers from me in exchange for your reciprocity couldn't hurt."

Ginny forced herself to sit up at the edge of her bed and then to stand. It wasn't an easy task, and it took quite a bit longer than she would have liked, but at the very least the end result would be there. Narcissa would seem less intimidating if she were not lying helplessly in a hospital bed, and to the older woman's credit, she did wait patiently as Ginny got to her feet.

Once they were face to face, Ginny supported herself by holding onto the foot of her bed. Her frail body was by no means sure-footed at this time, but she had to try.

"Go on, then," Narcissa said. "You may ask me anything you would like. Although, I feel as though I should mention that there may be a few things I am unable to answer."

Ginny bit her lip. "I want to know why you're going to take away our memories again."

Narcissa smiled a bit coldly. "You and Draco and the rest of those who had fallen over ten years ago were never really meant to regain your memories," she said with a chilling calm. "I, myself, would have never thought you would be my son's trigger, and as such it is no longer wise to allow you to be near him."

"But he is obviously not my trigger! I can't remember much at all."

"Ah, but you do remember some. So while he may not be the one person who can complete your happiness, he is someone who reminds you of your trigger." She paused briefly. "It is a very tricky, very old spell that I cannot expect you to understand in your condition, but the fact remains that your memories involve a certain individual quite a lot, and remembering this person could cause a lot of problems for the mission we are trying to accomplish here."

Ginny bit her lip. "You mean Harry, don't you?"

"Yes, that's right."

"So what about my kids? Why are you going to take their memories away?"

The older woman's face looked almost sympathetic for a moment. "The children are Purebloods because you and Draco both have that status. Our goal has never been to hurt those with magical blood, but rather to teach those who are of status to appreciate what that means. Living as a poor Muggle will never accomplish that, so we must remove them from you to perpetuate our line of teaching. Had we realized that you two had had Pureblooded children, we would have taken them from you at birth so as not to waste time."

"Can - can I see them first?" Ginny asked, her voice nearly breaking. She could not understand how this woman was able to say such terrible things so calmly and without expression.

"I'm afraid that the deed has already been done," she said with barely a hint of sympathy. "They have no memory of you, and they are both in England where they should be."

Her heart nearly stopped beating. "What kind of mother are you?" Ginny asked as icily as she could.

"If that's all of your questions, I will take you to see my husband now."

"No!" Ginny cried. "Please, I have more!"

"Very well," Narcissa said with a huff.

"Is Draco gone as well?"

"No. I thought - and so did my husband - that there be other, more effective ways to handle him, which is why if you come with me now, you may even get to see him for yourself."

There was something eerie about the way she was speaking - something distinct that made Ginny uncomfortable. But she was, by nature, a bit reckless, and so she conceded. And it was only a moment later that Ginny felt Narcissa's arm grasping her about the shoulders and an oddly familiar tug behind her navel The room disappeared and transformed into an entirely different place before her eyes.

The room that they ended up in was quite different from the hospital. It was large and stone, almost dungeon-like. There was a fire burning directly in front of her, and it warmed the room to almost the point of being hot. The walls were lined with dimly burning sconces, and Ginny's eyes had to adjust from the blinding white of the infirmary walls.

Straight ahead she saw two men, each perched regally in large chairs. They looked like royalty, and a chill ran up her spine at the sight of them sitting together in such a comfortable calm, especially since the last time she had seen them together they had come to physical blows.

"Ginevra, it's nice to see you up and about," the older man said, almost kindly - but not quite.

She bit her lip as she kept her arm linked with Narcissa for support. There was something about the man that she recognized from long ago - from a memory that was still hidden. But whatever the experience had been, it was so powerful that it resonated within her like a silent, urgent alarm. Nothing that came from this man - no matter how pleasantly he said it - was to be trusted.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said by way of greeting. "What is it that you want from me?"

The man smiled a cold smile. "I realize that when we met I may have frightened you, but I assure you that I mean no harm."

"I'm sure that's true," Ginny said agreeably. "I am a - what do you call it? Pureblood?"

"That's right," he said. "And Purebloods, under the rule of my master, are never to be harmed. Please feel comfortable in knowing that we have taken every precaution to save not only you, but your unborn child as well."

But somehow, these words still were not quite comforting to her.

"What do you want from me, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked again, this time a little bit more loudly.

He pursed his lips. "Do you know anything, my dear, about how my master came to be in power?"

Ginny shook her head. "How could I remember something like that? You've taken my memories, remember?" She said this last part with unbelievable deadpan.

"Right," he said with a hint of malice. "Well, then let me educate you.

"There was a boy who, thirty years ago, rendered my master defenseless for over a decade. As nothing more than an infant, he was able to deflect a lethal spell because of some very old magic that came from the boy's mother. This magic was able to protect the child and nearly killed our master in the process. He was left without form, but because his soul had been split and did not reside entirely within his body, he did not die. Years later, with the help of one of his followers, he was able to gain his body back.

"The boy who had nearly defeated him discovered how to destroy all the pieces of my master's soul - with the exception of one. Unbeknownst to even the Dark Lord himself, a piece of his soul had gone into the boy, and once he realized this, he sacrificed himself in the hopes that now, finally, the Dark Lord could be killed.

"There was no one, though, who was able to avenge his death, and as a result my master remained in power. But the boy damaged him because so much of his soul had already been destroyed, and there was not enough left within him to split. To protect himself, he cast a spell over every person who had supported the boy."

Ginny swallowed. "You - you're talking about Harry, aren't you?"

Lucius nodded. "Yes, Ginevra. Harry Potter was the Boy-Who-Lived, until he wasn't. He was the only person who was a real and true threat to the Dark Lord, and once he died, all should have been well for us. And for a time, it has been. That is, until recently."

"Wh - what happened recently?" Ginny asked, even though she was quite certain she knew where this story was heading.

"Recently, it has been discovered that Harry Potter has an heir."

Her heart nearly stopped beating.

"And the mother of that heir, Ginevra, is you." He licked his lips. "Where is he?"

She began shaking her head vigorously. "No," she cried. "No. No. No. NO!"

The man got to his feet and began moving towards Ginny. His steps were slow and deliberate, and the look of death in his eyes instilled a kind of fear in her that she had never felt before.

"There is magic to be done involving you that can allow us to find Harry Potter's son," he said. "That spell can be performed whether or not you are willing, but it is much easier to do if you do not struggle."

At his words, Ginny found herself trying and failing to pull herself away from Narcissa. But now, rather than holding Ginny's arm to keep her steady on her feet, the woman was now trapping her arms behind her back. Though Ginny was certain that if she were at full strength she would be far too strong for Narcissa to hold, in her current condition she stood no chance at all.

"Draco!" Ginny cried. "Draco! You can't let them do this!"

But her husband remained still and expressionless. Though his eyes were still on her - as they had been since the moment she had appeared before them in the dungeon - there was nothing there. There was no sympathy, no love, no compassion. His eyes were dead and cold like slate, but somehow the way he was looking at her made her feel as though she were burned alive.

"Draco!" she called again, and each time she shouted his name her voice became more and more desperate. "Draco! Draco!"

She released a sob. "Drew."

Her head hung as Lucius now stood before her, close enough that she could smell him and see how much his youthful appearance dissipated more and more with every step he took in her direction. Never in her life had she felt so alone, so desperate, so intimidated.

"Make no mistake, girl," he hissed. "My Lord has ordered me to find the heir of Harry Potter and deliver him to England so that he can be dealt with, and there is no force on this Earth powerful enough to stop me from completing my mission. If you cooperate, you can remain here comfortably until you give birth and we once again remove your memories before sending you back home to your little farm. If you do not, you will come with us to England and you will watch your first born die before our master. Those are your options."

Ginny kept her head held high. His face was only inches from hers, and she could feel his hot breath on her skin. She was itching to spit in his face or kick him in the shin, but her body wasn't listening to her. "I will take my own life before I allow you to hurt my child."

He smirked coldly. "You'd only be killing a different child."

She felt tears stinging behind her eyes. "I'd rather my baby dies at my own hands - a baby who would never know what it is to fear - than to allow you to torture a boy who has lived in this world for nearly twelve years."

"It's irrelevant, anyway. As I've said, we have taken every precaution to keep you safe." He narrowed his eyes. "I'm not sure why this boy matters so much to you. You don't even know his name, do you?"

"I don't need to have ever met my son to know that I love him," she said softly but without apology. "How do you know you hate every person who hasn't got pure blood?"

The man sneered at her, and for that brief moment, she could hardly believe that anyone could be so unbearably ugly.

"Draco, prepare the girl for the spell," he barked as he and his wife exited room through the back entrance so quickly that she was knocked off balance and onto the floor.

Her whole body was shaking as she struggled to catch her breath. Her head was hung low and her hair covered her face. She did not see her husband approaching her, but she could hear his footsteps and she could feel the change in the air around her as he bent low to grasp her by the wrist as he pulled her back to her feet.

"Do you plan to do as I say?" Draco asked without a trace of emotion in his voice.

Perhaps she should have feared her husband as much as she had feared his father, but the betrayal that she felt was rooted so deeply within her that it made her sick. This man had been the love of her life, and he watched as she was threatened and demoralized. He did nothing as she was told that her son would be captured and killed for no reason. He did nothing as she realized that everything in her lift that she cared about would soon be taken from her, and she was helpless until that happened.

She wrenched her arm away from him after he had pulled her violently to her feet, rubbing her now sore wrists to remove the tension that he had created.

"This will go a lot smoother if you…"

"Don't you speak to me like I'm a child," she hissed, cutting him off. Nothing he said to her meant anything anymore. Everything she had thought about him and anything he had ever said or done had been a lie. "I was in love with you when you were nothing but a poor farmer. You may be richer now, and you may have access to magic that I don't, but that doesn't make you a better man. Draco Malfoy could never be as good of a man as Drew Montrose."

His eyes were unflinchingly calm. "Are you done? Time is of the essence."

"What do you have to do to me?"

"It's simple, really. We need your hair, your blood, and a memory." He paused, knowing that she wouldn't understand what he meant. "Memories can be taken from your mind, to be stored or used for other purposes. We need the memory of the father and son together, but since Potter died before the birth of his child, the closest we can get is the night of conception."

Ginny snorted. "I couldn't give that to you if I wanted to. I don't remember it!"

"There are ways to draw out your memories. They're in your mind, only they're dormant." He looked at her severely. "It's really in your best interest to do what I say."

She looked at him. She could hear the words coming from his lips, she could see his face, and she could smell the scent of cloves and cigarettes on his skin. He was the same man that she had awoken with, made love to, only a short time ago.

But this wasn't her husband anymore. This wasn't Drew Montrose - the hard worker, the provider, the love of her life.

This was a rich, entitled bully.

This was Draco Malfoy.