Rose Granger-Weasley was born at the first stroke of midnight.

Hermione and I exchanged a fearful look as I handed her her little girl; the sounds of loud bangs and screams reverberating off the walls from deep within the tunnels.

Ron hadn't returned.

Just as the clock chimed it's final note, marking the twelfth hour; the door burst open.

*****

Draco ran up and down the empty tunnels, searching frantically for somebody, anybody.

But there was not a soul, every chamber empty of their usual inhabitants.

Blaire and Jack's room had been turned upside down, telling Draco that Diggory had already been there.

He couldn't bring himself to feel relieved that he'd managed to remove Jack in time, not until he knew where Blaire was.

He sank down to the ground, where Jack's hat lay torn and battered at his feet and tried to fight back the tears, banging his fist against his forehead, trying to keep it together.

Think, you idiot, Draco scolded himself as he wondered where he should start looking. He knew he could no longer just waltz into the Ministry, not with Diggory about to put the warrant out for his arrest.

He needed an ally, but he couldn't think who. There was no one he trusted more than his mother or Blaire.

And then it suddenly came to him, like a lightbulb sparking alight in his head. Of course.

Getting to his feet, he sprinted once again out of the tunnels, adrenaline and fear masking his exhaustion.

He would not rest until he got Blaire back.

******

"Why the fuck didn't you come to me sooner?"

Draco sighed as Pansy folded her arms crossly in front of her chest.

"Despite the messiness that happened between the three of us at school," she continued, "you know I always cared for you both."

"I know, I'm sorry," Draco apologised profusely, driving his hands frustratedly through his hair. "My head has just been all over the place since the war."

He was stood in Pansy's front drawing room, having just told her everything. The look of disgust and horror in her eyes when he told her about what Astoria had done told him that he'd made the right decision in turning to her.

"You don't say," Pansy mused, raising her eyebrows. "It hasn't exactly been a smooth ride for the rest of us, either. Look at me being lumbered married to bloody Crabbe of all wizards."

"Does he- does he treat you okay?" Draco asked hesitantly, realising shamefully that he'd completely neglected everyone in his grief of losing Blaire.

"Meh," Pansy shrugged. "He gives surprisingly good head. Just a shame he's never worked out how not to piss all over the bloody toilet seat."

Draco really didn't know how to respond to that.

"Pansy," he implored, "I need you to help me find Blaire. I promised Jack I wouldn't return without her."

Pansy looked thoughtful for a minute, pulling her dressing gown tighter around her. "Let me wake Vincent. He's not long got back from the Ministry. He may know something."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Draco fretted, fearful of being betrayed.

"Calm down," Pansy assured him, pausing at the door. "I've had enough pillow talk with the guy to know he'd be on your side in a heartbeat."

"Really?" Draco remarked, failing to hide his shock.

Pansy shook her head in bewilderment. "Have you forgotten how loyal he was to you all those years? How he literally jumped to your every daft command? Don't tell him I told you this but he misses you. Goyle's death messed him up; he blames himself for not being there. He wanted to reach out to you so many times since then but you were clearly living in your own fucked up head."

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. He'd felt so alone all these years, yet all the time there had been people suffering alongside him, people that would have helped and understood. For the first time in his life he felt a rushing feeling of fondness towards the two 'goons' of whom had been a sort of constant to him throughout his Hogwarts days.

"Thank you," he said, his voice suddenly hoarse with emotion, "I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am."

"Let's find Blaire first. Thanking us comes later."

******

Draco found himself holding his breath as he waited for Crabbe's response.

"They've bin scattered," he said eventually, scratching stubby fingers along his rough, stubbled jaw. "Some ter Azkaban, some ter the London dungeons. But others..."

He trailed off and Draco noticed him glance guiltily at his wife.

"Tell me!" Draco pressed, half relieved Blaire wasn't dead, half fearful at the horrors she could be enduring.

"I'm not sure which ones, I weren't there." Crabbe confessed, throwing an apologetic look towards Draco. "But rumour has it, Diggory sent a few ter the Breeding Ground."

An icy coldness swooped low through his stomach. It was the worst place she could end up. Of course fucking Diggory would send her there.

"We need to go there and get her out, now!"

"Hold on, Rambo," Pansy said holding up a hand, "you can't just waltz on into the Breeding Ground in the middle of the night without arousing suspicion. We need a plan."

"SHE COULD BE GETTING FUCKING RAPED AS WE SPEAK!" Draco hollered, cold fear clutching at his heart.

Not even caring about his audience, he hunched over as he tried to stifle a sob, thinking of their little boy who was waiting fretfully for his mother to return to him.

An arm went around him and he realised Pansy was pulling him in for a hug. He found himself quite helplessly allowing her as he wept on her shoulder, strangely grateful for the comfort.

"We're going to get her out, Draco, I promise," she assured him, stroking his back. "Won't we, Vince?"

"Mate," Crabbe's gruff yet oddly comforting tones filled the room as he stepped over to roughly pat a heavy hand upon his shoulder, "Zabini's one of us. We're gonna stick together; whatever it takes. Goyle'd done the same thing."

In that moment, Draco realised how much he'd truly underestimated the strength of the friendships he'd formed during his Hogwarts years.

And he remembered Goyle, remembered how, in his final moments how he had made sure that Blaire and himself were safe first before they'd climbed that tower of desks in the inferno that eventually killed him.

"I owe you guys everything," Draco choked, embracing the two last people he could count on to help him save Blaire.

They stood together; three Slytherins who, despite their reputation, had determination, resourcefulness and ambition on their side.

*****

Clang, clunk.

I froze, trying not to wince at the black leather bounds that cut painfully into my flesh.

Heavy footsteps resounded around me as I held my breath and squeezed my eyes tight shut; praying that I wouldn't be chosen.

Shallow, rasping breaths filled the cell, making my skin crawl as the perpetrator came to a still and carefully contemplated his prey.

"You'll do, sweet cheeks."

A feeble whimper followed by a weak, yet determined, scuffle.

I hated myself for feeling relieved it wasn't me.

I should have fought, I should have tried to save the girl who had just been dragged away against her will. But I had been greatly weakened by whatever drug they'd injected into my bloodstream.

All I could do was curl up on the cold ground and weep.

At least Jack was safe, I told myself. That was all that mattered. That was all I needed.

But when the clanging sound happened again and I found myself being lifted off the floor, the terror coursing through my veins was almost too much.

"Keep on kicking and screaming, Zabini," a familiar voice hissed in my ear as I was dragged down a dark corridor. "It might just save your fucking life."

Huh?

******