Thank you to my betas, moltobene1925 (I love you forever even though I wanted to faint on to the floor at your suggestions, but who did tell me “this makes everything else have more muchness”.), persephone33 (Seriously, you have the most amazing grammar skills. Thanks SO much.), violetjersey (I always love your suggestions, even when I'm thinking OMG MORE WORK!) and javastix (You made me believe that I really was doing a good job).

Also, thank you to Paper Route and their tremendous song Dance on our Graves for helping me write the ending!

Chapter 1

Ginny was certain they'd been in captivity for nearly a month when he arrived. She was outside the cottage in their small yard asking their Death Eater guard, Zipes, to give them a small fire with which to cook and keep warm in exchange for dinner, when several more black-hooded guards apparated, shoving a bound prisoner into the yard. The prisoner lay motionless where he fell, not trying to get up.

She watched in silence as the Death Eaters left the run down cottage in the woods in which she had lived for the past few weeks. “Aren't they going to unbind him?” Ginny asked Zipes as the hooded men disappeared into the thick woods.

He shrugged and lit his fat cigar. “Musta gave 'em trouble.”

Ginny sighed loudly. “Come on. I know you're hungry. I know we feed you better than they do. Please just light the fire and you can have the first bowl.”

“The biggest bowl,” he countered.

“Fine,” she agreed, knowing there was no way around it. Zipes was the only guard who would light fires for them. Luckily, Zipes was on guard almost every day and night. Occasionally, a woman named Queens would come, and Ginny hated it when she did. It meant they weren't getting a warm meal and they weren't getting a fire in the fireplace to keep them warm. Zipes would always keep a fire going for them, even though he and Ginny bantered back and forth about it. Zipes was the one Ginny would have placed her money on, if she had any, for Most-Likely-To-Keep-Them-Alive. Queens didn't even let them leave the cottage, despite the fact that the wards around the grounds were solid.

“Can you re-mobilize him?” Ginny nodded towards the new prisoner, who was still lying face first in the dirt and dead grass. “Tell Victorine to tend the stew until I come in,” she asked, referring to the blonder of the two twins she'd been captured with.

“What do ya do when Queens is here?” Zipes asked suspiciously, puffing on his cigar. “I know she don't have much to do with ya.”

She shrugged. Zipes had even put a wind protection charm around the perimeter of their cottage so that the cold weather didn't bother them as much, but Queens either ignored them or tried to terrify the children. “Why do you do it?”

“Aye,” he rolled his shoulders in a slow shrug. “I 'ad a daughter once. She looked a bit like you.”

“You did?” Ginny couldn't imagine any of the Death Eaters being married – at least, not any of the ones she had come into contact with. But of course, maybe he hadn't been married. “What happened to her?”

“I suppose I still 'ave a daughter. A son too. I jus don't see 'em. Her mum took off a few years ago. Ain't seen 'em since.”

“I'm sorry.” Ginny scuffed the toe of her dirty trainer against the ground.

Zipes pulled out his wand and pointed it at the prisoner on the ground. “I'll tell Vic'trine.”

Ginny watched to see if the prisoner would spring to his feet – sometimes they were still fighting when they arrived – but he didn't. In the time she'd been there, they'd had four new prisoners – five including this one. Three had already left, although Zipes refused to tell her where they'd gone. “Jus been transported,” he'd tell her, but Ginny knew that really meant they'd been tortured for information, or maybe just for fun, and were probably dead.

Every day since they'd arrived, Ginny had done what she could for the five young children who'd been captured along with her, the prisoners who'd been there before them, and the one who still remained. She'd heard of prison camps from the Order and from rumours at school, but she hadn't imagined they'd be like this. They had a two-room cottage, tucked deep in the woods, although which woods they happened to be, she had no idea. The cottage had a large garden area and yard surrounding it that they were allowed to tend. It only took Ginny a few days to realize that they were allowed to tend the yard because otherwise, they wouldn't be fed. Voldemort might have no issues draining his supporters Gringott's funds to support himself, but he certainly wasn't going to do something as trivial as feed his prisoners.

Even though her winter cloak no longer felt as useful as it once had (probably a month's worth of sleeping in it, she thought dryly), she pulled it tightly around her and carefully made her way to where their newest prisoner was waiting. Once she'd figured out that Zipes would give them a roaring fire in exchange for a meal, she hadn't really needed to sleep in her cloak, but she did, nonetheless. The familiar material comforted her.

“Hello,” she said quietly, kneeling on the cold, hard ground near the figure in dark clothes. She could hear him breathing heavily, and she hoped he wasn't too badly hurt. They had no medicinal supplies except for the runny soap she'd managed to make out of some of the herbs and plants she'd found outside. “Are you alright?”

There was no answer, so Ginny reached over and gently pushed his shoulder up in an attempt to roll him over. Her breath caught in her throat and threatened to choke her as the pale hair and even paler face of Draco Malfoy came into view. “Malfoy?” she choked out. “What in the bloody hell are you doing here?” She wondered if she should run and get Zipes, because there would certainly be hell to pay when the higher ups realized that Malfoy had been taken in to custody.

“Don't touch me,” he hissed, and even though she tried not to, Ginny couldn't help but gape at him.

His always perfect blond hair was mussed; one eye was a nasty shade of purple and swollen while the other was red and bloodshot. There was dried blood on his lip, as if someone had punched him, and the breast pocket of his shirt had been ripped. “Well, you can't lie on the ground forever,” she said, hoping she sounded reasonable as she tried to pull herself together. “It's not too windy here, but it's still winter.”

“No shite,” he growled, spitting blood to the ground. “It's Christmas Eve.”

Ginny swallowed hard, thinking she would have been better off not knowing that. Her family. Merlin, what was her family doing? She had refused to think about any of them since her arrival, knowing that it would only drive her mad. Every night before she fell asleep she sent up a prayer to God and Merlin and any other deity, who might be in the mood to transport a message, asking them to tell her family that she loved them. “Why are you here?”

He pushed himself off the ground and glared at her. “Same reason you are, Weasley.” He spat more blood and saliva to the dirt. “I got caught.”

She had a million questions for him, but she didn't imagine he'd be answering any of them. “Come on,” she said firmly, hearing his stomach growl. “Get up.” She held out her hand, but he ignored it as he pushed himself up. It was strange to see his normally perfectly put together clothes so rumpled and out of place. “Dinner is almost ready.”

“You cook?” he asked disdainfully, spitting more blood to the ground, barely missing her feet. “What are you, a house elf?”

“You don't have to eat,” she told him, keeping her exterior calm, even though she would have liked to punch him. She had grown quite excellent at keeping her feelings hidden. The other prisoners counted on it, especially her little family – they were so young. “You can starve. But no one else here is going to feed you. I want to eat, so I cook.” Ginny was tempted to turn on her heel and leave him in the fading dusk, but she didn't trust him to follow. “Besides, when was the last time you ate?”

He just scowled at her, confirming her suspicions that he hadn't eaten recently, at least not since breakfast.

Malfoy took a reluctant step forward and Ginny's mind ran with a thousand possibilities of why he was here. Was it mistaken identity? She doubted it. With his white hair and white skin, that pointy nose and the perpetual sneer, it was easy to recognize him. Was he being held for ransom? Did the Death Eaters need money that badly? Or had Draco Malfoy come over to the Order and been captured? Maybe it was punishment because his father had screwed up again.

“Are we going?” he snapped, breaking her from her thoughts.

She walked quickly towards the cottage door, relieved to see smoke curling from the chimney. “There are several empty beds,” she told him, her hand resting on the door knob. “You can pick one and I'll clean it for you.” She'd done it for the rest of the new prisoners, she reminded herself. So why not him?

Ginny yanked the door open without looking at his expression, because she knew it would be cruel. The tiny cottage consisted of two rooms. There was the main room, which had a fireplace for cooking and a wash bin, but no running water. There were twelve cots lined up haphazardly against the wall opposite the fireplace, a few shelves and cabinets next to the fireplace mantel and a window on either side of the front door. There was another door alongside the fireplace, which led to a tiny room where Zipes stayed. That was it. Their makeshift loo and wash house were in the back, under the awning of the cottage.

Victorine was stirring the stew while her twin, Jeanne-Marie, looked on. Even though she was only twelve, and a tiny, scared twelve-year-old at that, Victorine was the one Ginny could count on to get things done when she wasn't there to do it herself.

The only male, a third year, in their group that had arrived from Hogwarts, Wilhelm, was talking to Zipes about the things they might want to plant when the weather grew warmer. Ginny knew that Zipes liked Wilhelm too, and for a moment she wondered if the boy reminded Zipes of the son he had spoke of. She had mentioned to Wilhelm that he should hint about seeds to Zipes. Perhaps he could get them some.

Goldflower and Marylynn, two first years, were weaving the long grasses that grew at the edge of the property into baskets. They had been taught to do so by Jacob and Gretel, a couple who had been dragged from the cottage just days ago. Ginny smiled at them, pleased that the two young girls were being entertained while doing something useful that would help them all. The more baskets they had, the more vegetables, leaves and fruits they could gather.

It was Tyger, the prisoner who had arrived only a week ago, who noticed Ginny wasn't alone. “Who's that?” she demanded.

Suddenly all eyes in the room were fastened on Malfoy, and Ginny noticed a start of surprise run through Zipes' expression. “This is Malfoy,” she said. “He, uh, just got here.”

The smell of the hot stew made her too hungry to care much about Malfoy. “Jeanne-Marie, will you tell him what beds are empty?” Ginny asked, smiling at the twins. She took the ladle from Victorine and sipped the stew. They never had any meat to add to their meals, but that was alright. Every day they gathered fresh ingredients for the meal, and Ginny did her best to make a stew that wasn't bland and boring, although it was a challenge. She had to use her potions knowledge to figure out which leaves and plants were edible, and which would add the best flavors to their meals. Every dinner, unless Queens was there, they would have a hot meal of sorts, and then the cold leftovers for a late breakfast and usually whatever raw things they picked for lunch.

“I think it's ready,” Ginny announced. “Tyger, will you get the bowls? Give Zipes the largest one.”

Tyger scowled, but did as she was told.

All Ginny knew about Tyger was that her family was fairly wealthy and they had been involved in the 1970s anti-establishment movement in Ireland. The girl was a few years older than Ginny but she seemed okay with her leadership around the cottage.

“Let me fill up your bowl,” Ginny told Zipes, motioning him to the cauldron that hung over their roaring fire.

“That's 'nough,” he muttered quietly, as Ginny filled his bowl once and then dipped the ladle back in for another scoop.

“You're sure?”

He nodded sharply. “We gotta 'notha mouth to feed.”

After she had served everyone, she noticed Malfoy, still standing blankly in the middle of the room, holding his bowl in his fist as if he hoped to crush it. “Malfoy,” she said quietly. “Can I get you dinner?”

From the expression on his face Ginny knew he would have said, or maybe screamed, No! at her if he hadn't been so hungry.

As he reluctantly stepped forward, Ginny noticed a slight limp. She wondered if he'd let her check it later on. Maybe not, but that didn't mean she wouldn't treat him exactly the same as any of the other prisoners. She filled his bowl, and then nodded her head towards the others, gathered around the fire. Instead, Malfoy slunk back to the bed he had chosen to eat by himself. With disdain, she noticed that the bed he had chosen was the closest bed to hers. No one else wanted it because it was tucked away in a dark corner, and yet, Malfoy seemed to fit into it with no issues.

Trying not to sigh, Ginny dished half a ladle into her own bowl and joined the others by the fireside.

*~*

“I'm sleeping by you?” Malfoy asked with a sneer as Ginny dropped into her bed that night.

They had all pitched in, all except Malfoy of course, to wash the dishes and tidy up the room. Even Zipes had stayed with them, listening to Ginny tell the story of The Frog Princess as she dusted off the bed Malfoy had chosen, before their guard secured the wards so that no one could slip out and retiring to his little room on the backside of the hearth for the night.

“You can move,” she told him, too tired to argue. “But those other beds are empty because they are farthest away from the fire.”

“They're not beds!”

“So they're cots. Better than sleeping on the floor. The heat from the fire keeps them warm.”

He narrowed his eyes. “That Death Eater isn't supposed to do this for you,” he told her hatefully. “He's only supposed to be here to make sure no one escapes.”

“No one can escape,” she said, pulling her thin blanket up over her shoulders. “We've tried. The borders of the yard are impenetrable.”

“Ginny?” Goldflower's high pitched voice floated from her bed.

“Yes love?”

“Can you tell us another story?”

Ginny racked her brain, wishing she knew a few more cheerful stories, but all that ever came to mind were the dark fairy tales she had learned as a child. “Okay.”

“We want to hear one about our cottage,” Marylynn called out.

From the corner of her eye, Ginny could see Malfoy roll over and turn his back to her. “Okay. A Snow White story.” She thought for a moment, trying to remember a version she hadn't already told them. “Once upon a time, in the middle of winter, when snowflakes were falling from the sky like feathers, a queen was sitting and sewing by a window with a black ebony frame...”

She told the entire story, despite its gruesome ending. “The queen was so terrified that she just stood there and couldn't budge and inch. Iron slippers had already been heated up over a fire of coals. They were brought in with tongs and set right in front of her. She had to put on the rod hot irons shoes and dance in them until she dropped to the ground dead.”

As Ginny finished her story, all the breathing in the room sounded steady and even. She had no idea how everyone managed to sleep at night. Sleep didn't come easily to her, and when it did come, it was filled with dark terrors that disturbed her slumber. When everyone else was asleep, she allowed herself a few tears. It was only at night, when she was all alone, that she allowed herself to remember her family and her friends, and to dwell on the fact that she would most likely not make it out of here alive. As a hot tear rolled down her cheek, a low hiss came from her left.

“Weasley!”

She rolled over, wiping at her tears, to face Malfoy. In the dancing firelight, she could see that he was watching her. “What?”

“Why are you here?”

“I don't know.”

“How long have you been here?”

“I think a month. I'm not sure.”

“You know what happens to prisoners, right?” Even without seeing his face, Ginny knew Malfoy was sneering.

She didn't answer him.

“They're held for ransom or for information. And when they're done being useful they're executed.”

“Don't ever say that in front of the children,” Ginny told him, surprised at how hard her voice was. “Ever.”

“If you're so worried about them, why would you tell them a story with such a disgusting ending?”

She shrugged, even though she knew he couldn't see her. “They like it. I think it makes them reassured that bad things will come to bad people, and good things to good people.”

“It's a bunch of shite.”

Ginny didn't answer him. She decided she preferred him better when they were at school and they could just ignore each other.

*~*

“So this is what you do every day?” Malfoy asked her disdainfully.

Ginny bit her tongue and sucked in a slow breath before answering him. She and Jeanne-Marie were working twice as hard to gather what wild vegetables they could because the dark snow clouds were gathering quickly overhead. Wilhelm had gone off hunting with Zipes. Ginny had no idea how much good the prisoner would do Zipes, considering he had no weapon, but she suspected even their guard didn't want to be out in the woods alone. The day before he had told her that the Death Eaters weren't even able to feed any of the guards in the main prison. The ones who had money were starting to hide it from the Dark Lord. Ginny wondered if Malfoy's father had done that and perhaps that was why he too was in prison.

Tyger was washing the dirty linens with the soap potion Ginny had mixed up more of the day before. It wasn't as cleansing as she would have liked, but with no proper mortar and pestle to grind the plants into a fine dust, fragments of the plants clung to the sheets. But it was better than nothing.

Victorine was running back and forth between helping Tyger and tending to Goldflower and Marylynn, who'd both woken in the night with screaming nightmares, then fevers and chills. The nightmares were nothing new, but the fever and chills concerned Ginny. All her potions knowledge did her no good when she didn't have the ingredients for a proper medicine.

“Yes,” she told Draco calmly. “This is what we do.”

“Why? Why not try to escape?” In the six long days since he'd been there, his clothes had quickly become dirty and used looking. It didn't suit him.

As she looked up at him, fat flakes of snow began to fall. “Damn it!” She began to work faster, ignoring the painful stiffness in her cold fingers. “We do it because we want to eat. And since we're feeding you, it would be great if you'd pitch in occasionally. Besides, you know what trying to escape does.”

“Why hasn't Saint Scarhead rescued you yet?”

“Why should he?” she countered. She was certain that even he knew Harry had dumped her at Dumbledore's funeral.

She turned away from him, tired of his holier-than-thou sneer, tired of his snide remarks about the toothpaste, soaps and other things she'd made out of the plants and herbs in their little yard, and tired of his sullen attitude. She wanted to remind him that it sucked for all of them, not just him. They had all been ripped from their friends and families, left in a cottage deep in a strange woods for reasons they couldn't even begin to fathom, and worst of all, they knew they would probably all die. Malfoy wasn't the only one, although he was the least likely to be there.

He'd spent the past few days testing the wards around the cottage yard, despite Ginny's warnings that they were solid. She too had tested them once. The end result was that Draco's black eye and busted lip hadn't even begun to heal. In fact, he had gotten a multitude of bruises, a bloody nose and skinned palms because of his attempts at freedom.

“It could have been much worse,” she had told him crossly, when she had cleaned his palms with the medicated salve she'd made.

“What is this?” he'd asked rudely, grimacing as she'd spread the salve on his hands.

“It's as close as we've got to medicine. I made it.”

“You made it?”

Ginny ignored the disgusted look on his face. “It's just a simple matter of potions. Take it or leave it.”

“Ginny!” Jeanne-Marie called from behind her, breaking the older girl from her thoughts. “Here's what we've got.” She emptied her apron full of vegetables, roots and plants into the basket. “Are we going to run out of food?”

“No.” Ginny shook her head. “That's why Zipes went hunting. So we can have meat while we grow things. Zipes is going to try to get some seeds.”

“What's this?” Victorine asked, joining her sister and plucking a squished deep green leaf from her pocket. “Can we eat it? I saw a lot back against the side of the cottage.”

Ginny took the round leaf. “No,” she shook her head. “See the six points on it?”

The twins nodded.

“It's a Venohex plant. They're extremely poisonous if ingested. Your heart would stop in about five seconds.”

“Is it poisonous to touch?” Jeanne-Marie looked nervous.

“No,” Ginny answered, grinning. “Just to eat. But why don't you wash your hands and then help Tyger get the rest of the linens hung under the awning behind the house. When they're a little dryer we can move them in by the fire.”

The twins dashed off, eager to be done with their chores.

Ginny resumed her careful lifting of each individual leaf, hoping there would be something useful.

“Why'd you lie to them?”

Ginny glanced behind her, only to see Malfoy again. “I didn't.”

“We are running out of food,” he said shortly. “There's enough for a week, tops.” Then he emptied his shirt tails into Ginny's basket.

“Where'd you get this?” she asked, her eyebrows shooting up at the amount of wild okra and turnips that tumbled out.

“Back there.” He motioned to the woods behind her.

“You can go there? I thought the boundaries were set up where the woods started.”

“Apparently not.”

“I think this will be enough for at least two days,” she said thoughtfully. “Which is good, because I don't know if this snow will let up any time soon.”

Malfoy grunted in reply, before snatching up the basket and stalking back to the cottage.

When Zipes returned, the sun had nearly set for the day, although it was hard to tell, since the snow clouds had covered it all afternoon. But he was carrying three large rabbits, and Ginny's heart leapt. She had never been so happy to see dead bunnies in her entire life.

*~*

After dinner, Ginny sat on the floor of the cottage, feeling fuller and happier than she had in a long time. Jacob and Malfoy had skinned and prepared the rabbits, which was gross but necessary, and the pelts would be useful. She would never admit it to him, but she was completely shocked to see Malfoy do something with his hands, especially something so distasteful.

Victorine had fried the meat while Ginny had prepared the vegetables, and Tyger forced Marylynn and Goldflower to take a potion Ginny had made for them. Finally, they'd had the heartier stew any of them had eaten in a long time.

“I see you finally took a full bowl,” Malfoy hissed into her ear.

It was true; for the first time ever, she'd helped herself to a full bowl of food. She ate only a tiny scoop for breakfast, nothing at lunchtime and a half ladle for dinner. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Yes you do.”

“Please don't talk to me. You give me a headache.” Ginny pushed herself to her feet and crossed the room to where Marylynn lay in her cot. After taking the medicine, Goldflower had felt well enough to eat a bit, but Marylynn had just tossed and turned. “How are you feeling?” Ginny asked her softly, running her hand over her cheek.

The girl just moaned, and Ginny was distraught to see that she was shivering, despite the blankets and the fire.

“What's wrong with her?”

Ginny would have loved to give him a bat bogey hex, but the lack of a wand prevented her. She pressed her hand to the girl's forehead, but quickly yanked it away, surprised at the heat.

“Are you going to save her too?”

Ginny grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him towards the door. “We're going to get more firewood,” she told the startled group. “Before it gets too wet. Is that okay, Zipes?”

“Take the lantern,” he nodded, barely glancing at them.

Malfoy, who had been too surprised to speak, broke free from her grasp as she shut the door behind them. “Are you nutters?” he hissed. “It's a blizzard out here!”

Although it had been snowing steadily, it was hardly a blizzard.

“I don't know why you're here,” she told him, trying to keep her voice calm as snowflakes swirled around them, “but it doesn't matter. I don't know why any of us are here.”

Malfoy made a small, disgusted noise in the back of his throat.

“But thank you for helping with dinner.” She decided to see if she could catch him off guard with a bit of pleasantness.

“I didn't do it for you,” he hissed. “I wanted to eat too!”

Apparently pleasantness didn't work with Malfoy. “The point is that we're here and there's no way of getting out, not unless they take you. It's bad enough, so please don't make it worse. It's already hard to take care of all the children without you being a total arse.”

Malfoy narrowed his eyes, snowflakes caught in his pale lashes. “You don't have to take care of them. No one is forcing you to play mum.”

“No one else is going to do it. Sometimes you do things that you don't want to do because it's the right thing to do.” She was suddenly overwhelmed by how tired she felt. “I know you like to think the world revolves around you, but it really doesn't.”

“How long have you been here?”

She stared at him. “I don't know. We came here November 6, so almost two months, I guess.”

“Where'd they get you?”

“From Hogwarts. I was walking the new kids down to Hagrid's hut and they got us.”

He nodded knowingly, and for a moment Ginny thought she saw a flash of something humane in his eyes. “They were new?”

She nodded miserably. “They had been home schooled before.” Under Voldemort, home schooling was illegal.

“Do you think that girl is going to die?”

Before she could control herself, hot tears swelled up behind her eyelids. “We need to go get the wood,” she said flatly.

“You mean no one has died since you've been here?” he asked cruelly, and when Ginny looked up, his eyes were hard again.

“Yes,” she hissed. “People have died. They dragged four people out of here and they took Lasair out into the yard right over there and beat her until she quit breathing.” Her body shook with rage and sorrow as she pointed to the spot in the yard they all avoided. “And then they left her there. That was while Zipes was gone and Queens was here. She's awful. Be glad you haven't met her. Wilhelm and I dug a hole with our hands to bury her in. When Zipes came back he covered it properly with his wand. That's why I take care of those kids. It happened on the third day we were here and they were terrified.” She realized that she was panting, her mind recoiling as those memories of digging came back to her.

Malfoy leaned close to her. “I'll go get the wood now.”

Ginny remained rooted to the spot, the hot tears that had sprung up finally spilling on to her cheeks and freezing before they had even reached her chin. She tried her hardest not to think about it. Thinking did her no good.

“Ahh, Merlin!” Malfoy groaned when he returned with a load of snow-covered wood. “Are you crying?”

“Piss off,” she hissed at him, not bothering to wipe her cheeks as she stomped off into the dark night to gather wood.

“Weasley,” he called, dashing through the snow to catch up with her. “Wait.”

“I have nothing more to say to you!” she shouted, since they were far enough away from the cottage none of the others could hear her. “I don't need you to make things any more miserable for us, okay? Why don't we just agree not to speak to each other?”

His eyes narrowed to thin slits and he set his mouth firm. “Fine.”

*~*

One week later, Ginny didn't think she could keep holding on to the spider web thin grasp she had on her sanity, despite the fact that Zipes had somehow managed to bring them several different types of seeds to plant. She wondered who or what he had to rob to get those. Tyger had taught him a few charms to cast that would keep the area where the seeds were planted in ideal growing conditions, but that didn't change the fact that Marylynn was growing sicker every day. Zipes had told her, in his usual rough manner, there was nothing he could do. And she knew he wasn't lying and that he had already done so much for them that he shouldn't have done, but it didn't make her feel any better.

Marylynn had stayed in her bed the entire week, her breathing growing slower and more shallow, and the length of time that she slept far surpassed the few minutes a day that she was awake. Ginny didn't know if she would wake up at all if Ginny didn't try to force food down her throat every day.

Goldflower had recovered quickly, but she too seemed to know that Marylynn wasn't going to. She followed Ginny around, clinging close as Ginny scoured the yard for things to eat, all while trying to keep things running as normally as possible.

The afternoon everything began to fall apart, Ginny was looking for an Athelas plant, or White Hallows herbs alongside the small stream that ran through the cottage yard, or even an Aum plant. She was desperate to find any plant she could use to make a healing medicine for Marylynn and anyone else who might fall sick, but she was losing hope.

“We aren't going to find any here,” Malfoy told her crossly, standing up and dusting off his knees, although his trousers were just as filthy as any of the clothes any of them had, so his motions were pointless.

“You don't have to help me look,” she responded.

“We have about two metres of water here,” he continued, ignoring her. “So even if there are White Hallows, they aren't here. And Aum plants don't grow in the woods. You know that.”

Ginny bit her lower lip, and tried not to look frantic. “I was so sure I could find an Athelas...”

“Ginny!”

She glanced up to see Tyger striding towards her. The expression on Tyger's face told her exactly what had happened. “Oh Merlin, please no,” Ginny whispered.

Tyger nodded, as if she could hear the whispered words. “She just quit breathing. I even did that Muggle thing, with our mouths, but it didn't work.” The dark haired woman blinked back tears. “Zipes sent me out here. He's going to... you know. He said to keep the kids occupied.”

Her breath had stopped in her throat, but Ginny managed to nod.

Goldflower and Wilhelm were across the yard, grinding herbs between two stones and the twins were washing the dishes. They were all in the cold and snow, but sometimes it was just better than being inside.

Ginny remembered when Zipes found out they had buried Lasair, he was upset because he was supposed to transfigure the body into something else. That's what he would do to Marylynn, so that if things went bad for the Death Eaters, there would be as few bodies as possible to be found. Her stomach rolled at the thought of what she might be transfigured into. Ginny sat down heavily, her back to everyone else, and threw up.

When she finally looked up again, Malfoy was looking at with a twisted expression of disgust on her face. “Stop it,” he hissed at her. “Those kids are watching you!”

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and pushed herself to her feet, unsteady.

Malfoy grabbed her by the arm and kept her upright. “Smile at them,” he growled under his breath.

Just as he said, the twins, Goldflower and Wilhelm were staring. Ginny forced a shaky smile on her face. “Are the dishes done?” she called out.

“Almost,” Victorine told her.

The normal question seemed to soothe them, as they turned back to their chores.

“Don't do that again,” he snapped at her, his silver eyes flashing angrily. “You're skinny enough. You need to retain what you eat.”

Ginny stared at him, thinking that was possibly the stupidest thing he'd said to her, when Zipes came out of the cottage, carrying what looked suspiciously like one of the magazines he always had his nose in – except it was much, much thicker.

She felt her knees threatening to give out again, but Malfoy's grip her on arm tightened to the point of painful.

“Don't do it.”

Zipes walked past them, past the wards at the edge of the yard and Ginny watched him until he disappeared into the thick trees.

Their lunch was a horribly silent affair, as all the children realized what had occurred the instant they entered the cottage. Ginny mustered all the strength she could as she attempted to fry some vegetables up for their meal. But just as she had finished filling the plates, the door to the cottage blew open with a force that could only mean one thing. “Queens,” Ginny whispered under her breath, momentarily forgetting Marylynn's empty bed.

Her destitute black eyes scanned the room and her dark, snow flake filled hair billowed around her, as if a breeze was blowing. She said nothing until she pointed her wand at Goldflower and hissed “Petrificus Totalus”. A band of hooded Death Eaters moved in behind her, causing Jeanne-Marie to scream as they quickly snatched up Goldflower's stiff body.

Queens' gaze quit scanning the room, stopping on the food Ginny had just dished out. “Give that to me.”

Ginny just stared at the hateful woman, frozen to her spot with dread.

Aiming her wand at Ginny's face, Queens stepped forward. “I can't kill you, but I can hurt you. I can make you wish you were dead.”