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Starting Over by jessica k malfoy
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Starting Over

jessica k malfoy

Thank you to my lovely beta (sticksrouge11) and all my reviewers!

CHAPTER 7 Ireland

They left the following morning- Ron, Narcissa, and Ginny. They took a Muggle boat to Ireland, trying to attract as little attention from the wizarding world as possible. The journey had been strange so far, with Ron being perfectly friendly to Narcissa and the three of them laughing and joking, even though they had no idea what lay ahead. The journey was long and slow, since they tried to use as little magic as possible, but after a week, they found the ruined castle.

"It doesn't look like anyone is here," Narcissa commented staring up at the ruins.

Ginny silently agreed, and tried to keep her expectations squashed.

"Now what?" Narcissa asked, and they looked at Ron, expectantly.

"We sneak in. We try to find out if he's here, and if he's willing to come back with us," he said firmly. "Time to put on the cloaks."

Ron slipped Harry's invisibility cloak over his head, and Narcissa and Ginny shared the Malfoy's cloak.

"Keep your wands out," Ron muttered as they headed towards the castle.

Ginny's heart beat wildly against her ribs. The interior of the dilapidated castle was dark and cold. How could anyone be living in here?

They crept through room upon room before finding anything. The castle was no where near as large as Hogwarts, but it was big enough and the empty dilapidated rooms gave Ginny the chills. They had just reached the third floor when voices touched their ears.

". . . going back now!"

"To what? To death?"

"No, to . . ." the voice faded before picking up again. ". . . of this!"

"If the Dark Lord doesn't get you, those bloody Auror's will!"

Ginny felt Narcissa stiffen beside her.

". . . care! I'm sick of this."

Ginny thought her heart leapt out of her chest and into her mouth, as she realized it was Draco's voice she was listening to.

". . . know what you've been doing. You leave here at night! You're going to get us killed!"

"I'm not staying here, so you won't have to worry about that," Draco's cold voice announced.

Ginny and Narcissa stepped back in unison as the heavy door swung open and Draco marched out.

An audible gasp escaped her lips, but he didn't turn. He was slightly thinner than she remembered, but his eyes were cold and hard, scaring as he glanced at whoever he had been talking to.

"Stupid, bloody git," the voice of the other Death Eater entered the cold hall.

The group stood frozen as Draco disappeared into another room, and suddenly she saw Ron appear before her. "Here," he hissed. "Take this!"

Quickly, Ginny traded places with him. She was alone under the cloak and he had gotten underneath Narcissa's invisibility cloak.

"We'll follow you," Ron's whispered floated through the air.

Ginny tiptoed down the hall towards the door she had seen Draco enter.

"Make sure he's alone!"

Her heart knocking violently, Ginny pressed her ear to the door and heard nothing. With invisible fingers, she reached forward and pushed on the door ever so slightly, until it was open enough for her to step through. Draco was alone in the small, dim room, staring blankly out a window.

"Draco." His name left her lips on its own accord.

He whirled around, his long blond hair falling over his eyes.

She pulled the cloak off and they stood silently, staring at each other. Ginny's stomach still did flip flops at the sight of him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked finally.

"I want you . . . to come home."

Behind her, she heard a rustling as Ron and Narcissa removed their cloak and Ron reached out to shut the door.

"What's going on?" he demanded, his eyes darting back and forth.

Hot tears rose in Ginny's eyes, her stomach aching at the mistrusting tones in his voice. "It's over. He's gone. Voldemort. He's gone."

"And you brought your brother to arrest me?" he questioned hotly.

The tears spilled onto her cheeks. "No. No, he came to protect me and your mum." She took another step forward. "I missed you."

"Come with us," Narcissa spoke up. "We can apparate back to the Manor and we'll explain everything."

"We're too far to apparate there," Ron spoke up, the dislike in his eyes obvious.

Narcissa shook her head. "Our home is charmed so that no matter where we are, we can apparate there."

Draco stood still, watching them, unsure.

"Please?" Ginny whispered. "I heard you, you said you didn't want to stay here."

Finally Draco stepped forward and took her hand, but without looking at her. She felt the strange tug of apparation and then landed on her feet in the front parlor of Malfoy Manor, Ron and Narcissa popping out of the air across from her.

"What's going on?" Draco inquired again, quickly letting go of Ginny's hand.

"We'll let Ginny explain," Narcissa spoke up.

"But..." Ron tried to interject as she pulled him from the room and shut the doors.

Draco eyed her warily.

"It's over," Ginny said, finding her voice. "He's gone. The war is over."

"For how long?"

"Almost a month."

"Then why didn't I know?"

"I don't know. I wanted to find you and tell you but no one knew where you were," she told him truthfully.

Draco remained silent.

"Ron and Harry are in charge of the sentencing, you know," Ginny said finally. "They agreed to pardon you, but if you don't want me around, I understand. I just don't want you to have to hide anymore though."

Draco stared at her, his eyes blank and unreadable. Ginny felt as if her organs were freezing up inside of her. He doesn't care. She gulped hard to keep from choking.

"I'm sorry. I just, I kept having these dreams and in them you were there and you said . . ." she trailed off and stood to her feet. "I'll go now. They'll still pardon you though. You don't have to hide anymore."

Ginny made her way across the parlor to the door, taking with her the one last shred of dignity she had remaining. Dreams! Nothing more than dreams! You are a fool for even daring to believe in silly dreams!

"Ginny."

She stopped, her hand already outstretched.

"Wait. Don't go. Please."

She turned, slowly, not wanting him to see the tears burning in her eyes. He was still sitting on the lounge chair, some how looking small against the backdrop of his house.

"They weren't . . . they weren't dreams."


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