Starting Over by jessica k malfoy

Rating: R
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 5
Published: 11/02/2005
Last Updated: 06/03/2005
Status: Completed

In the sequel to Dark Days, once the war is over, GInny sets out to find Draco and see if things
can be made right between them.




1. At the Manor
---------------



Okay! Finally! I have a great new beta reader (sticksrouge11) whose help & suggestions got
this story out of my brain and onto the page. I promise I will update as soon as I get the chapters
back, but in order to do so, I am putting “Getting Personal” on temporary hold. Okay? Oh yeah, for
everyone who doesn't know, Burgosdamasco is fine with the idea I'm using (yippee).

CHAPTER 1 At the Manor

Malfoy Manor was everything Ginny Weasley had imagined, but nothing she had expected. The
furniture, the wall hangings, the flooring, even the garden was absolutely exquisite. The colors
and the textures were rich and luscious, coordinating in the most in the most elegant ways. The
rooms were large and open, but instead of having a cold and formal feel, each one felt lived in and
well cared for. The Manor and its grounds were protected with multiple, fierce charms and hexes,
keeping it unplottable, and safe from prying eyes, so Ginny and Luna were free to roam as they
wished.

For reason's she could not fathom, Narcissa put her up in Draco's suite of rooms, even
though there were a half dozen guest suites to choose from. Being in Draco's room gave her
access to his inner most being in the pictures that decorated the walls, the books on the shelves,
the forgotten magazines under the mattress, and the clothes hanging in his wardrobe. Ginny
didn't know whether or not she liked being in his room, as sometimes she caught his scent and
her heart whispered for him.

Luna stayed in a suite next to Narcissa's room, as she was still prone to the occasional
nightmare even though Draco had done an excellent job of selectively erasing her memories. She
couldn't understand why Ginny sometimes stared at her with such intense sorrow in her eyes or
why Narcissa Malfoy treated her so kindly, but she accepted it with her usual grace and oblivion.
In fact, after only a few days at the Manor, Ginny discovered that not only had Draco erased some
of her memories, but he had modified them as well. Luna recalled nothing of being in prison, she
barely remembered the war, and never once said a word about Neville. Ginny wanted to ask, if not
Luna then Narcissa, but she didn't.

As for Narcissa, Ginny expected her to be grieving; after all, her husband - no matter how
terrible he had been - had died. And maybe she did grieve in private, for the three women spent the
majority of their days alone, because when Ginny was with her, she was always full of grace. She
tried to offer some sort of condolences to Narcissa about Lucius, but Narcissa brushed them off
with a wave of her hand.

“Our marriage wasn't what one would call good,” she said with a small smile. “at least not
in our later years.”

Ginny watched her one lazy afternoon as the three stretched across sun warmed benches in the
garden, reading or at least pretending to. She was falling in love with the Manor, and as much as
she missed her cozy room and chaotic lifestyle at the Burrow, she adored the uncharacteristic
peacefulness she had found. It was true, she mused, that after the prison, she probably would have
thought the Order's house to be peaceful.

“Narcissa?” she spoke, breaking the stillness.

“Yes dear?” she glanced up and set her book aside.

“I was just wondering, the first time I saw you was at the Quidditch World Cup, when it was
here, and then . . . then you didn't seem so nice.” Ginny felt her cheeks heat up.

Narcissa just laughed. “There was a time when I, as well as my son, truly believed that we
purebloods were better than others.”

Ginny watched her with her eyebrows knit together.

“Obviously, my late husband and your father have never gotten along. Rightly so I suppose, since
my husband tried to kill you in your first year at Hogwarts.”

Luna let out a high pitched laugh at Narcissa's words, but never looked up from her
magazine.

“But, just like you already learned, war changes everything,” Narcissa continued. “For the first
time, I was able to admit that my husband was wrong. I witnessed terrible things, and it changed
me.” Narcissa stood and slowly paced the small sitting area. She stopped and leaned down to smell
one of the large flowers, her blond hair falling across her face. “And I had thought it was too
late to save my son. I may have been, but you weren't.”

Ginny stretched against the stone bench and sighed. “But I haven't heard a word from
him.”

“Neither have I,” she said softly, plucking the flower and handing it to Ginny.

“But he said You Know Who was going there. Draco said he was mad, furious. Don't you think
it would have been in the papers?” She had taken to reading the Daily Prophet religiously, and yet
there was never any mention of Draco or the prison.

“No. If something did happen there, we may not know about it yet. Or perhaps it was just . . .
too great to print.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if the Dark Lord did something, something terrible, the Ministry may not want to cause
another uproar.”

Ginny brought the flower to her face, using its large petals to cover the tears forming in her
eyes. She missed Draco. At night, trying to sleep in his large bed, she would catch his scent or
his dark laugh or his memory lingering close by, and cry until she was empty and sure she could
never cry again. And she missed her family. She desperately wanted to contact them, to let them
know she was still alive, still well. But Narcissa had reminded her that since her family was all
prominent Order members, surely they were being watch, perhaps even by some one on the inside. If
any supporter of Voldemort knew Ginny was alive, Draco would be blamed; after all, it had been
Daily Prophet news for weeks when she disappeared.

Ginny hadn't known how to respond to that, so she didn't mention it anymore.

She had a hard time adjusting to the sudden freedom and spent most of her days confined to one
room, unable to talk to Luna without recalling the horrors that had been forced upon her. She
couldn't sleep at night without nightmares, but being awake in the dark made her unexplainably
fearful, her subconscious waiting for the screams and cries and unforgivable curses. Narcissa made
a dreamless sleeping potion to take every night, and slowly, it settled on Ginny that she would
never be the same. No matter how long she lived, the scar on her lip may fade, but the wounds
inside would probably never even heal. She didn't understand war, and spent nearly an entire
week raging about it, unable to comprehend how one person's selfishness should have such
devastating effects on everyone else.

The rage was exhausting, and quickly faded into an unnamed kind of depression, where Ginny went
through the motions of living, but inside, she was sure she was dying. She couldn't eat
anymore. It took the majority of her energy to remember that she had to dress, to bathe, to
breathe. It was strange, that as much as she missed her family, she missed Draco much, much more.
The silent pressure of not knowing whether Draco was still dead or alive became too much for Ginny.
She stopped getting out of the bed, didn't even pretend to eat, instead she laid on top of
Draco's silky green bedspread and let unspoken tears rolled into her ears.

*Is he dead?*

*Is he alive?*

*Does he think about me?*

*Did he even care about me at all?*

*Does he love me?*

The pain in her chest that grew larger each day was a physical one, consuming every part, every
cell, every atom of her being.

*Alive? Dead? Miss me? Love me?*

Narcissa came to check on her, and so did Luna, but Ginny would roll over and turn away from
them, unfair, she knew, since her grief was for Narcissa's son. If Draco really was gone -
*Dear Merlin, please, no!* - then Narcissa would have lost her husband and child.

Early one morning, Ginny woke, tangled in Draco's black Egyptian cotton sheets, a smile on
her lips and her memory still full of the dream she had dreamed.

*I'm still here, he had whispered, waking her from a restless slumber as he climbed into
his bed beside her.*

*Are you real? she had asked, knowing full well she was dreaming.*

*I'm real. And when this is all over, I'm coming back for you.*

*His perfect lips grazed her cheek and forehead, and this brushed across her mouth. His hands
slipped under her nightgown and across her too skinny body and within seconds he had slipped
himself inside of her, moving up and down, gently, slowly, leisurely, as if time were of no matter.
When she came, it wasn't just once, but twice, overlapping each other and rocking her body with
pleasure.*

*I love you, he whispered when he was finished, his breath heavy and his skin slick with
sweat. I love you.*

Ginny didn't want to get out of the bed yet; she wished she hadn't even woken.
Draco's scent was still heavy on her lips. She lay in his bed until she could stand it no
longer, and then, comforted by her dream, pulled a robe over her nightclothes and went down stairs
to find Narcissa.

When she entered the large dining room, Narcissa looked up from her place at the head of the
table, startled. Quickly she wiped at her eyes and folded the paper she was reading. “What a
surprise to see you out of bed!” She smiled, but her voice cracked.

“Draco's still alive,” Ginny said, sitting down.

“I know. I can feel it.”

“Me too,” she nodded, unconsciously rubbing her hands across her thighs.

“What made you change you mind?”

“I dreamed about him.”

Narcissa's smile changed, but Ginny could not pinpoint how.

“What?” Ginny asked quickly. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head, and began to dispose of the newspaper. “Nothing at all.”

“Can I see the paper?”

“There's nothing about Draco today.”

“Tell me.”

Narcissa sighed and handed Ginny the paper. Quickly, Ginny scanned the front page, her eyes
widening in horror.

*In the remains of what is suspected to be Dartford Prison, another body was identified. Auror
Neville Longbottom's wand and remains were found late yesterday afternoon. Having disappeared
nearly three months ago, his whereabouts were unknown, but the Ministry had hoped for the best . .
.*

“The remains?” Ginny repeated. “Why didn't you tell me he was gone?”

“I didn't know for sure,” Narcissa shook her head, her eyes glistening. “Draco asked me not
to speak of him to Luna, but I wasn't positive.”

“Draco knew?”

“I suppose. Or he suspected.”

“He erased him from her memory, didn't he?” Ginny sat heavily in the straight backed
chair.

Narcissa nodded.

After a long silence, Ginny asked, “Do you think he did it?”

Narcissa didn't answer her. “Make sure Luna doesn't see that paper. You don't want
to trigger anything.”

“Do you?”

“I don't know. I don't want to think so, but I honestly don't know.”

Ginny watched her said face for several moments before glancing back at the newspaper. “It
doesn't mention a memorial.”

“I noticed that, but now is not a safe time for our kind to gather in large numbers.”

“It doesn't seem fair to keep her from it,” Ginny said sadly.

The look on Narcissa's face said clearly, *Since when is life fair*? “I know,” she
answered.

“So Dartford was destroyed.”

“So it seems.”

Ginny shook her head. “How long ago? This doesn't say anything! He didn't tell me
that.”

“Ginny, you had . . . a dream.”

“But it felt real.”

“I know.” Narcissa dabbed at her eyes again. “I know.”

“So where's Draco?”

Narcissa shook her head, her blond hair falling loose and as she began to cry, Ginny joined
in.

-->



2. Ends
-------



The speed of this update is thanks to my wonderful & darling beta, sticksrouge11, probably
better known as DracoLuver412. Don't we all love him???? ;) Yummy, yummy! Thank you, thank
you!!!

CHAPTER 2

“Ginny! Luna!” Narcissa's screams filled the house early one morning. “Come here.”

Still in her nightgown, Ginny ran from the room, her heart petrified with fear. “What?
What's wrong?”

She and Luna skidded into the drawing room together, and found Narcissa standing in the middle
of the floor holding the Daily Prophet.

Ginny bolted forward and grabbed the newspaper. “No!” she gasped, expecting the worst about
Draco.

*YOU KNOW WHO IS GONE!!!* the headlines screamed. Quickly she scanned the article.

*Late last night, in what will surely be known as the most epic battle in wizarding history,
Auror Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord. Although Mr. Potter is now seeking treatment at St.
Mungo's, he and his work partner Ronald Weasley are both alive and well. Memorials will be help
this week for those who gave their lives for this noble cause . . .* The article went on and on
for nearly five entire pages, recounting each detail of the battle, complete with pictures.

“So Ron's okay,” she breathed, rescanning the article. And still, there was nothing. No
mention of Draco.

“You're free,” Narcissa hugged her tightly, encircling Luna with her other arm. “We're
finally free.”

Ginny nodded, the realization settling over her as she reread the article.

“Free from what?” Luna asked dreamily.

“From war,” Narcissa whispered. “We've been staying here because there was a great war going
on.”

“Oh,” she shrugged. “I like it here.”

The next few days were busy, Ginny helping Narcissa make plans to return Luna home. Her father
had died during the war, and it seemed her next of kin was Neville's grandmother.

“What are we going to do?” Ginny asked.

“The only thing we can do,” Narcissa told her firmly. “I will go and tell her the truth, and if
she does not accept it, then Luna will stay here.”

“Do you think she will?”

“I don't know. My family has inflicted a great deal of damage to her family. But I will try.
I'll go first thing in the morning, and you, will stay here and pack.”

“Pack?”

“All your things. You will be going home too.”

But Ginny didn't want to go home. Selfish, she knew, but she wanted to stay where she was
until she heard some word about Draco, whether it be good or bad.

Ginny spent the next afternoon making sure her few items were in order. Somehow, without ever
leaving the Manor, she had managed to accumulate new underclothes, nightclothes, several new robes,
and a picture of Draco. Narcissa had given it to her, and admitted that it had been taken only
weeks before he had been made an official Death Eater.

“But he looks so happy,” Ginny had pointed out.



“Yes,” Narcissa had agreed, “I think at that moment he thought he could avoid that life.”

It was the only time Ginny had ever seen Draco with a real smile on his face. His photo self
looked out of the picture and flirted with Ginny continually.

When she was done, she went to sit in the library and pretended to read, but was really waiting
for the fire to flame bright green and Narcissa to appear. The minutes stretched to hours as Ginny
waited, finally putting the book aside and pacing the room. She was afraid she was going to pace a
hole into the plush carpet and was ready to give up and go to bed when the fireplace burst into
green flames.

Ginny stared at Narcissa. Her face was red and blotchy, but Luna wasn't with her. “What
happened?”

Narcissa sat down in a chair and rubbed her eyes, pulling Ginny down next to her. “She's a
proud woman,” she said finally. “A proud, strong woman, with every reason to be. I asked her not to
hold the debts and sins of my family against me. It was my sister, you know, who put her son and
daughter in law in St. Mungo's. Neville's parents. And I don't know who took
Neville's life, but my own son and husband were associated with them.”

“But you don't know-” Ginny began.

“Death Eaters were responsible for this. And my family has always been associated with them. I
am not innocent.”

“What did she say?”

“I told her everything I knew. I told her about Draco erasing her memories and sending her home,
about how he saved you, and about Lucius being gone.”

“And then?”

“She thought her entire family was gone. She was pleased to have Luna back. I think they're
going to try to restore some of her memories. At least, so she can remember Neville. He did so
much, in the fight against Voldemort.”

Ginny jumped slightly at the name. She had never heard her say it before.

“It's just a name. Just a name.” Narcissa stood up and smile a wavering smile.

“So, did she . . . forgive you?” Ginny asked.

“I don't think that a life time of hurts can be erased by one day's apology. Now, are
you packed?”

“Yes, but-”

“No, no buts. It's time for you to go home.”

“I don't want to go,” Ginny pouted childishly. “I want to find out about Draco first!”

“And your family?” Narcissa asked her sharply. “What about them? Do they not matter
anymore?”

Ginny looked away, unable to meet her fierce gaze.

“Your brother or Mr. Potter may know something about Draco's whereabouts,” she said
quietly.

Ginny glanced up quickly. She hadn't thought of that before. She had spent days, tearing
herself apart, finding excuse after excuse not to leave the Manor, not to leave Draco's room,
and yet her own family may just be able to bring him back to her, giving her more than just his
memories.

“I'll go with you,” Narcissa said.

-->



3. Home Again
-------------



Special thanks to my AMAZINGLY QUICK beta DracoLuver412 aka SticksRouge11 & to everyone who
is leaving me reviews. Yippee!

CHAPTER 3 Home Again

Ginny and Narcissa planned to leave the next morning, after breakfast. They would go to St.
Mungo's, even though Ginny had a suspicion Narcissa would not be welcomed there.

Her stomach was churning violently as she tried to swallow down a decent amount of food. “I
don't think they're going to believe me.”

“They are your family,” she replied, her tone too airy to be convincing. “Of course they
will.”

They apparated into the hospital's reception area, Narcissa keeping the hood of her light
blue cloak over her head. As they quickly made their way to the fourth floor, Ginny wondered just
how many people she knew were on that floor.

“May I help you?” a mediwitch asked, stopping them.

“I'm looking for my brother,” Ginny said, tossing back her red hair and sounding braver than
she felt. “Ronald Weasley.”

The mediwitch eyed her and then Narcissa suspiciously before pointing to a door several feet
away. “Be quick with it. He's only just woken up!”

Ginny crept to the door and peaked in. She could see Ron's unmistakable red head in one bed,
and Harry's messy black mop in another.

“Go on,” Narcissa gave her a shove.

“Got a minute?” she whispered, stepping into the room.

Both Ron and Harry turned to face her and immediately went white.

“She's solid,” Harry whispered finally. “Not, not a ghost.”

“GINNY!” Ron screamed jumping out of bed and nearly knocking her flat as his arms closed around
her. “Ginny!”

Harry laid still, his eyes wide and his hand over his mouth.

“We thought you were dead. We heard that you were dead!” Ron sobbed.

“No,” Ginny tried to explain. “I'm fine. I'm fine.”

“What's all this noise?” the same mediwitch came bustling into the room. “You need to be
resting!”

“This is my sister! We thought, we thought she was dead!”

The mediwitch's face softened as she glanced at Ron and Harry. “Very well then, but no more
screaming!”

“Where were you? What happened? How did you get out? Tell me what's going on! Everyone else
who was taken that night, we found them, so we assumed that you were gone too,” Ron spit out in one
breath.

“No, I survived,” she told him.

Harry climbed out of his own bed and pulled Ron away so he could hug her. “What's going
on?”

“You won't believe it,” she smiled nervously. “It was the Malfoy's. Draco and Narcissa,
they helped me.”

Again she was met with silence.

Suddenly, Ron pulled out his wand. “Disdemperio! Alcamayant! Meditatus!”

Ginny was knocked over by the blast. “What was that for?” she demanded, standing back up.



“That,” Ron frowned, “removes a lot of things. It breaks polyjuice potion, removes the
controlling curse and restores many memories that may have been modified.”

“That's pretty powerful magic,” she tried to smile, “but not necessary.”

“I don't understand,” Harry shook his head. “We heard Malfoy was the head of that prison. He
couldn't of got that position by being soft.”

“He is. Was, I mean. That's where I was.”

“What?”

“You were at Dartford Prison?”

“How did you get out?”

“No one got out alive.”

“Was he really the head of Dartford?”

The questions flew at Ginny. “No one except me and Luna,” she admitted. “It's a long story,
and I'll tell it to you one day. There's something I need to know first.”

“What?” Ron asked, holding his side and sitting back down.

“Do you have any leads at all about Draco? Anything?”

Ron and Harry both stared blankly at her. It was Ron who spoke first. “Have you seen mum and dad
yet?”

“No,” she admitted. “I'm going to. I just want to find Draco if he's still alive.”

“You mean, you want to chase down Malfoy first, and then you'll see your family.”

“No! I want to, well I, well, yes.”

“Something's wrong,” Harry shook his head.

“Nothing is wrong. He is the reason I'm alive,” she told them desperately. “He is the reason
no one touched me. He kept me out of the dungeons! He took me to his house and Narcissa took care
of me! Ask Percy!”

“Percy? You know where Percy is?” Ron demanded.

“Well, he was at the prison with me. Draco was looking after him too.”

Harry shook his head slowly. “No one, no one at all got out of Dartford. We haven't heard a
word from Percy.”

“Why was Draco looking after Percy?” Ron asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I asked him to.”

“But why would he listen to you?” he pressed. “I don't understand.”

“I don't know,” she said desperately. “I don't. He took me out of the dungeons and let
me stay in his room. We became friends.”

Ron's face tightened.

“Nothing happened Ron.”

“We heard rumors about that prison. Murders and rapes and tortures everyday.”

“They're true,” she admitted quietly. “I saw it happen more than once. Draco saved me from
that.”

“But Voldemort destroyed Dartford almost three months ago. Decided that the prisoners were
useless. We heard that they couldn't get the information they wanted.”

“Three months ago?” she gasped.

Harry nodded. “They said no one got out.”

“I got out. So did Luna.”

“Luna?” Ron asked. “Neville's wife?”

Ginny nodded. “She's with . . . his grandmother now.”

“Can she back up your story?” he demanded



“No. No, she can't. Draco erased her memories.”

“That's convenient,” he snorted.

“I'm not under any spell,” she insisted. “I just want to find Draco.”

Ron and Harry exchanged glances.

“Why wasn't it in the Daily Prophet when the prison got destroyed? I read that paper
everyday!” Ginny demanded.

Ron shook his head reluctantly. “Nearly everyone had a family member they knew to be there or
suspected to be there. It was our biggest loss.”

“We both got out! Ask Narcissa. She's right outside. She took me in and Luna in!”

Harry threw the door open and found Narcissa, waiting patiently. Reluctantly, he invited her in
the room.

“Ginny says you helped her,” Ron told Narcissa stiffly. “Thank you.”

Narcissa shook her head. “I only did what I could. I wish I could have done more.”

“But do you know anything about Draco?” Ginny asked impatiently. “Anything?”

Harry and Ron exchanged quick glances. “He is . . . wanted, you know,” Harry said finally.

“For what exactly?” Ginny pressed.

“He is a known Death Eater,” Ron reminded her, avoiding Narcissa's gaze. “Head of
Dartford.”

“I read in the Daily Prophet that several Death Eaters were pardoned.”

Harry nodded slowly, reluctantly. Darvin Moon's family was. They helped us catch 11 other
Death Eaters.”

Ginny stared her brother and Harry in the eyes. “You are the ones responsible for the
sentencing, are you not?”

Again, they exchanged glances. “Yes,” Ron said finally.

“Then why not? Why won't you believe me? Draco kept me from those horrible prison
guards!”

“But what did he do?” Ron demanded.

Ginny glanced at Narcissa, who didn't seem surprised by the question. “Nothing Ron. He did
nothing to me.”

They sat in silence for several moments.

Ginny took a deep breath. “If Draco came back, would you pardon him since he saved me?”

She was met by a long silence.

“Would you agree to have your memories searched?” Ron asked finally.

Ginny wanted to be upset, but she knew her brother had good reason for mistrusting her. Her
story did seem unbelievable. “If Dumbledore would do it, I would agree.”

Narcissa's eyebrows raised, but she said nothing.

“If Dumbledore found nothing, then we would,” Ron agreed finally.

“Then what do you know?” she asked hurriedly.

“Nothing, nothing until you've seen mum and dad. I'll do some searching and let you
know.”



-->



4. Reunions & Memorials
-----------------------



Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing and much thanks again to my super fantastic beta
Sticksrouge11! I hope y'all like this story as much as the first one!

CHAPTER 4

When Ginny stepped through the fireplace in the Burrow, she was nearly smothered by her mother,
Bill, Fred, and George.

“Ginny, oh Ginny!” her mother choked. “We thought, we thought for so long, that you, well, you
know. Oh Ginny!”

“Mum, give her some room to breathe,” Fred said, elbowing Bill out of his way. “What's this
Ron's been telling us about you and Malfoy?”

“Already?” Ginny asked, her voice muffled as her mouth was still stuffed into her mother's
shoulder. She left St. Mungo's that morning and went back to the Manor to gather her few
things. Ron had told her that mum usually came to see him around 10, and went home after lunch, so
Ginny planned to go home around 3.

“Hey, hey,” Bill spoke up. “We've got plenty of time for that stuff.”

“Your father will be home any minute now,” her mum said, still squeezing her.

Ginny managed to glance at the clock and noticed her father's picture pointing to work.

“Come, come, sit here.” She ushered Ginny to a chair. “When your father gets home, we want to
hear everything that happened.”

Her mum stepped back and looked at her, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. “You have
no idea what it's like to think you have lost your only daughter.”

“I wanted to tell you,” Ginny said quietly. “I really did. But I knew it wasn't safe.”

Mrs. Weasley nodded. “I'll go make us a cup of tea.” She wiped her eyes, and quickly leaned
down to give Ginny another hug.

When her father arrived home, they went through the same emotionally charged reunion, until they
had all settled, and with her mum on one side, and dad on the other, Ginny began to tell her
story.

She modified the story a bit, not enough to make Draco seem like a saint, but enough to make it
obvious that he had saved her. She told them about Luna, and how Draco had saved her from Marcus
Flint, she told them that he allowed her to stay in her room, but swore up and down that nothing
happened, she told them about Percy with tears in her eyes, saying she met him in the kitchen and
had then begged Draco to look after him, she told them about Pansy Parkinson, how Narcissa came and
took Luna with her, and how Draco erased her memories, and how finally he took her to stay with
Narcissa at the Manor. The end of her story was met with silence. Her eyes weren't the only
eyes wet with tears; it suddenly occurred to her that this was probably the first official time it
had been confirmed Percy was truly gone.

“I know he tried to take care of him,” she whispered, finally. “I know he did because he was
good to me. Better than I could have ever imagined.”

“Yes, yes,” her mother nodded. “We assumed that he was there. He disappeared from the Ministry,
you know. We did hear that Lucius Malfoy had something to do with it.”

Memories flooded Ginny's vision and she so vividly recalled Lucius dragging Percy's
broken body in the room to be tortured. Phantom pains surged through her thighs and her knees
wobbled and she was thankful she was sitting. “He probably did. But Draco is nothing like him.”

“If I didn't know better,” George commented, his voice forced into false lightness, “I'd
think you had a thing for Malfoy.”



Ginny met his gaze but said nothing.

“I suppose we should eat,” her mother said, wiping her eyes and patting Ginny's leg. “I know
I'm hungry.”

Her father nodded in agreement and pulled Ginny closer to him. “We've missed you.”

“Where is Charlie?” Ginny asked when they were seated at the dinner table.

“I'm not sure,” her mother said, looking around. “I told Fred to Floo him this afternoon,
when Ron said you were coming.”

“I thought you did,” Fred told George, his mouth full.

“Don't look at me,” George shrugged.

“For Merlin's sake!” her mum exclaimed, dropping her fork. “His sister is back and neither
of you told him?”

“I'll do it,” Ginny said, jumping up. “Where is he?”

“Still at the Order's house,” her father told her.

Ginny hurried into the living room and knelt in front of the fireplace, taking a pinch of Floo
powder in her hands. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, sucking in the homey, familiar
smell of the Burrow. She had her family back.

***

“Are you ready dear?” Mrs. Weasley stuck her head in Ginny's room.

Ginny nodded and stood up, shaking her head clear and glancing again around her small room. The
purple painted shelves that were as old as she was were crammed with old school books, a broken
sneak o scope, stuffed dolls, and several pictures of her brothers. Underneath, a desk painted in
the same girly shade of purple was piled high with broken quills, empty ink bottles, piles of
Muggle makeup, courtesy of Hermione, and books on beauty charms. The clothes she had tried on the
night she went to the club were still in a pile on the floor, as was a large array of shoes.
“Everything in here is so familiar.”

“Well, it should be.”

“I know, but . . .”

“But what, dear?” her mother asked, stepping inside the room and pushing the door closed.

“It seems like a different lifetime when I was here last,” Ginny admitted.

Her mum engulfed her in a hug. “Oh my little girl. What did you have to go through?”

“Nothing terrible,” Ginny whispered. “Nothing like some of the others did.”

“We don't have to go if this is too painful for you.”

“No, I want to go. It's important.”

Her mum nodded. “That's why Dumbledore decided to have the memorials so quickly. To help
people heal.”

“And you told everyone that we're meeting Narcissa there?” Ginny asked, wiping away her
tears.

Her mum nodded.

“What did they say?”

“Well, your brothers and father seem willing to accept that she helped you.”

“Okay then.” She rose from the bed and followed her mum down to the breakfast table, where the
mood was unusually sober. She was momentarily surprised to see Hermione holding Harry's hand,
and Hermione's parents sitting beside Bill and Fred.

“Good morning,” she said softly, surveying everyone over the mountains of uneaten food.

At the memorial service, Ginny sat between her mum and Narcissa with her entire family crowded
into one long pew. The service was in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, which had been magically expanded
to accommodate everyone. There wasn't a single wizarding family in all of Great Britain who
hadn't been affected by the war.



First Dumbledore spoke, and although he spoke at great length, Ginny hung on to every word. He
mentioned several of the bigger battles, the way the war was won, the deaths of some of the
communities most prominent witches and wizards, Neville included. “And there are some here today,”
he finished, “who suffered losses greater than we know, greater than we can understand. There are
some who helped our cause in ways we were not aware of. We must unite now, so this will never
happen again.” Ginny was sure his eyes were focused on Narcissa as he said those words and
smiled.

Ginny spotted Luna in the crowd and watched her. Her blond head hung forward and she could see
that the girl was crying. A deep twist filled her stomach. Did she remember? How much? After the
service, she and Narcissa went to see Luna.

“He was my husband,” she said softly as Ginny hugged her.

Ginny nodded weakly. “I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be,” Luna tried to brush the tears away. “I remember us being happy, and that's
all. I'm luckier than most people because I don't have to remember anything bad.”

Ginny had no answer. She felt shallow, wishing for Draco at a time like this, when her family
was mourning the loss of Percy, of Neville, of a hundred other witches and wizards, gone. But she
missed him. As she watched Hermione hold on to Harry, and then Ron joined them, she missed him even
more. She had heard the expression before, as if a piece of her was missing, but that was how she
felt. There was a hole, an emptiness in her now and nothing but Draco was going to fill it up. She
couldn't stop the tears as they rushed to her eyes. Her brother was gone, her friends were
gone, and Draco . . . where was he?

-->



5. Inside Out
-------------



In answer to all your reviews, yes, of course Draco will be making his appearance shortly. I
mean, if he really was dead, what would be the point of posting this story on this site?? It just
felt like there was a lot of background detail that needed to be covered before I could get that
far. Draco was scheduled to appear in chapter 7, but thanks to great suggestions from my beta and
y'all, he may arrive in chapter 6. xoxoxoxoxo

CHAPTER 5 Inside Out

In the three days following the memorial service, Ginny had overheard what felt like ten
thousand snide comments about Draco from her brothers.

“She can't be serious, can she?”

“That bloody prat Malfoy did something to her, I know he did.”

“I'll kill that git if he ever shows up again.”

“Hopefully he's dead and Gin will just get over him.”

“I bet he was the one responsible for kidnapping her.”

“Do you think she really cares about him? She's been moping around since she got back.”

“Why did you promise her you'd find out about him, Ron? Why don't we go kill him?”

Of course, the talking always stopped when they saw her in the room. There was no way to make
them believe her; after all, she wasn't the girl they remembered. She didn't have any
interest in flying with them, didn't laugh at Fred and George's jokes, didn't eat,
couldn't sleep. She was skinnier than they recalled, quieter than they wanted her to be. She
sat in her mum's garden, staring into nothing for hours on end while they talked about her.

“What do you think happened to her while she was there? I mean, what hasn't she told
us?”

“Dunno. That place . . . we heard about rapes and murders and tortures.”

“You sure she's not under any spell?”

“None that we could figure out. Dumbledore'll be here soon. He's gonna search her
memories. If there's anything, he'll find it.”

“Would he tell us?”

“Yeah, it's Dumbledore!”

“I dunno though.”

“What about that scar on her lip? She always touches it.”

Even Charlie, who had been the most reliable, the one she could always count on to take her side
joined in the conversations with the rest of her family. Charlie, who had literally bowled her over
when she flooed him to let him know she was home; Charlie who had always supported her and her
decisions. The voices and their words began to blend together until she didn't know or even
care who was saying what. It all meant the same thing. They didn't trust her, didn't
believe her, and even if Draco was alive and still wanted her, they would never accept him.

***

“Are you ready?” Dumbledore asked, carefully placing a pensive on the table in front of her.

Ginny nodded, her actions stronger than her feelings. Her mother had wanted to stay with her,
but it was Bill who convinced her to leave Ginny alone with Dumbledore. She had begged Ron to send
him; she couldn't stand it anymore, and had the sneaking feeling that Ron knew more about
Draco's whereabouts than he was letting on.

“What we will do,” Dumbledore told her softly, “is I will use my wand and say the spell, and
your memories will all be placed in this pensive. Then we will watch them.”

“My memories?” she questioned.

“Almost like copies of your memories,” he admitted. “You will retain them, and when we are
through, we will dispose of them.”



“Some of them, I don't want to keep.”

He eyed her carefully. “Perhaps you should look into a pensive of your own.”

She nodded silently.

“We'll need to start with the night you were taken.”

Ginny nodded again. “I don't remember much of that.”

Dumbledore watched her over the tops of his small glasses, his eyes betraying a sadness as he
looked at her. He pulled out his wand, and said quietly, “Salvargio.”

Ginny felt as if a cold fog was creeping through the crevices of her brain, and just as quickly,
it was all sucked out. She watched, fascinated as the small gray smoke cloud began to whirl and
then dropped itself into the pensive. Dumbledore tapped his wand on the top of the bowl and the
liquid began to spin.

“Let's go.”

Ginny took his hand and they leaned over the bowl, leaning and leaning until the two of them had
tipped head first and were falling. They landed on their feet, and Ginny watched, a great sadness
filling her, as her past self danced and drank with Colin and Zoë. She reached out for them, but
her hand passed through them. Ghosts, she reminded herself. They're not really here.

*“Are you guys ready?” Hannah shouted over the music. “It's almost 2!”*

*“Just a few more songs,” Zoë shouted.*

*“What?”*

*“Just a-”*

*“CRUCIO!” The unforgivable curse erupted, and witches and wizards began to fall and screams
filled the air.*

*“What's happening?” Ginny heard someone scream, but inside she already knew what was
happening.*

*“Get down!” she screamed, pulling Zoë and Colin to the floor with her. “We've got to get
out of here and get the Order.”*

*“Where's Hannah?” Colin shouted.*

*“She knows what to do!” Zoë answered.*

*They scurried for the walls, unable to apparate inside the building. They were nearly to the
wall, and once they reached the wall, they could just blast it out of their way if they had
to.*

*“Going somewhere?”*

*Ginny felt a hand on her hair, and before she could react, a sharp pain hit her head, and the
room went black.*

Ginny watched as Dumbledore calmly sorted through her memories, observing Luna silently as she
was taken from the dungeon multiple times a day. Ginny felt hot tears streaming down her face, but
she stood still, unable to escape her own memories.

*“It's your turn, Weasley slut, let's go.”*



She watched herself being dragged down the hallway, thrown into the room where Draco waited, and
turned her head away as Draco bounced her body off the walls, determined to break her. She peeked a
glance at Dumbledore and saw that his face was still blank. The memories grew more painful, as he
watched her clean Draco's shoes and room, Percy get tortured and Draco pinch her thighs until
they bled, his foot leaving the white scar on her face, Narcissa bathing her, and finally Draco
allowing Luna to leave. The memories kept spinning by and Ginny relived the evening Marcus Flint
told her he'd be looking for her, and the way she had offered herself to Draco the night his
father died, how Draco had forced her back to the dungeons, and how he had rescued her from Flint
and stopped her from killing herself, and finally, embarrassingly, the intimacy she and Draco
shared. They watched her memories all the way up until she watched Draco take her to Malfoy Manor
and leave her there.

“I suppose we can go now,” Dumbledore said, looking down at Ginny.

The strange sensation of falling in reverse washed over Ginny and when the fog cleared, she
found herself back in the Burrow, staring across the kitchen table at Dumbledore.

There was a long silence before he spoke. “This isn't quite the story you told your family,
is it?”

“No,” she admitted quietly, brushing away tears that were still flowing. “I couldn't tell
them some of those things.”

“While it is clear that he eventually saved your life, I am still not sure why. However, some
things, I suppose, are not to be known. People do change. I have always believed that people can
change.”

“Is it enough to pardon him?” she asked slowly. Seeing Draco again, looking solid and real had
unnerved her. Watching and reliving it as he backhanded her and kicked her, and then watching
herself offer him her virginity left her reeling with mixed feelings.

Dumbledore stared at her heavily. “Although he did not kill you or rape you, I daresay he did
abuse you. Maybe not at the end, but Mr. Malfoy is not innocent.”

“He saved my life though,” she answered defiantly. “Don't you think he changed? I do. I
forgave him.”

“What about the other people? Who did he hurt that you did not see?”

“I don't know,” she admitted. “But he saved me and he saved Luna.”

He nodded. “Although she will never know it, he did show more mercy for her than I would have
thought possible.”

Ginny bit her lip and stared at the table. “I know,” she said finally. “Back at Hogwarts, I
wouldn't have thought I would care for him so much.”

“It would appear, that Mr. Malfoy already knew of Neville's death, since she has no memory
of him either.”

“I think he did.”

“Do you think he had anything to do with it?”

“I hope not.”

Dumbledore sighed deeply. “War, as you already know, can make people into things that they are
not. It can make a person behave in the most atrocious, offensive ways possible. I do believe that
Mr. Malfoy grew to care about you, and I know now that he did save your life, and Ms.
Longbottom's. If your brother and Harry can accept that, the Wizengamot will also.”

Ginny nodded happily, feeling tears heat up her eyes. “Thank you.”

“You were very brave, Ginny,” Dumbledore told her softly. “More brave than I could have ever
imagined. Neville and Luna will no doubt agree.”

“No,” she whispered. “I don't want her to have to remember any of that.”

“Do you know where Mr. Malfoy is?” Dumbledore asked her.



She shook her head. “I have no idea. I don't even know if he is alive. Ron said he'd do
some searching and let me know.”

Dumbledore stood and gathered his pensive. “Good luck, Ms. Weasley.”

Ginny dropped her head to the table and began to cry. She was still crying when her mother
joined her.

“Dumbledore had a talk with Ron, and Ron wants to see you,” her mum said quietly.

-->



6. What Ron Had to Say
----------------------



This is a short chappie & I was going to combine it with chapter 7, but seeing how I left
everyone on an accidental cliffhanger, I decided to go on & post it. Draco will be in the next
chapter. PROMISE CROSS MY HEART.

CHAPTER 6 Ron's News

Ginny rubbed her eyes and tried to do a glamour charm to repair her tear stained face. “Did he
say anything?” she asked her mum.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. “Just that he wanted to talk to you.”

Suddenly, she wasn't quite sure what news she wanted to hear from her brother. She wanted
closure, of some sort, and at the moment she didn't know what type of closure she wanted or
even needed. Ginny stood up. “I love you, mum.”

“I love you too, dear.”

Ginny left the kitchen and found her brother sitting alone in the living room. “Ron?”

Ron jumped to his feet.

“How are you feeling?”

“Well enough to be released from St. Mungo's, I suppose.”

She wrapped her arms around him. “And Harry?”

“The same. He's back home.”

“By himself?”

Ron shook his head. “No, Charlie's there and so is Lupin.”

“Did you talk to Dumbledore?” she asked.

“Yes, I did. He said that while Malfoy is not innocent, it is clear he did save you and
Luna.”

Ginny shut her eyes and smiled. “Nothing else?”

“Is there anything else I need to know?” he demanded.

“No. Nothing,” she answered, opening her eyes. *At least nothing you* need *to
know.*

“I did find some information on him.”

She sucked in a deep breath. “Is he alive?”

“We receive a lead that several Death Eaters were holed up over in Ireland.”

“Ireland?” Ginny repeated.

He nodded. “There's an old school up there similar to Hogwarts, just smaller. It's not
used anymore, just an abandoned building with anti Muggle charms. That's the tip we heard
anyways.”

“Why would he go there?”

Ron shrugged. “On the run, maybe? You have no idea what he did once you were gone.”

She bit the inside of her lip and thought. “Maybe he was hiding from Voldemort.”

“Maybe. But if so, why isn't he back? The whole world knows V.... Voldemort is dead.”

“And that you're the hero who got rid of him!”

“And Harry. He helped a bit!”

They laughed, and for a moment, things felt just like old times.

“I'm going to go find him,” Ginny told Ron finally.

“And then what?” he asked, sighing.

“I don't know. I'll see how he feels. Don't think I'm stupid, but I think I love
him.”

Ron remained silent. “Do you really even know him?” he asked finally.

“I'd like to think I do. I spent a lot of time with him. Just me and him, you know. I dream
about him sometimes. I think he's still alive.”

“Dreams?”



“They're so real. Sometimes I think I'm awake, but in the morning he's gone.”

Ron's eyebrows knit together. “Have you dreamed about him since you've been back
here?”

She shook her head and blushed. “Not those kind of dreams. Not the real kind.” She didn't
want Ron to ask her any more questions about those dreams. In those dreams Draco slipped into the
bed beside her and kissed her, touched her, reminded her that he loved her.

“I want to stop you, but somehow I know I can't,” Ron said slowly.

“No, only Draco can. I have to find that out. I have to get some sleep! I can't sleep
anymore, I just think about him. If he's still alive or . . . not.”

“You can't go by yourself. It's just too dangerous. If he really is hiding out with a
bunch of Death Eaters, there's no telling what will happen to you.”

“Well, Narcissa wants to go.”

“So do I.”

“You do?”

Ron nodded. “I'm not going to let anything happen to you again.”

“And you promise to pardon him if he comes back?”

“I promise.”

“Promise what?” Charlie asked, slipping in the room unnoticed.

Ginny looked up at her brother.

“That I'll keep her safe,” Ron said easily.

“What are you planning on doing?” Charlie asked, eyeing her.

“Ron heard that there were some Death Eaters hiding out in Ireland,” she told him finally.

“So? What does that have to do with you?” he asked.

Ron cleared his throat and looked around. “Malfoy might be there.”

“Malfoy?” George's voice entered the room before he did. “What about Malfoy?”

Ginny glanced at her brothers and remained silent.

“He might be in Ireland,” Ron repeated.

George's nostrils flared. “I thought we talked about this . . .”

Ginny watched with a growing feeling of unease as her brothers exchanged looks. “Talked about
what?”

“You said that . . .” Charlie trailed off.

“What?” Ginny demanded, standing to her feet.

“We just want you to be careful, Gin,” George said. “We thought you were dead. We don't want
anything to happen to you.”

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you? If it wasn't
for Draco, I *would* be dead! He saved me! He kept me alive! He kept me away from the rapes
and murders!”

“Why can't you just write him a thank you note when he comes back?” Fred muttered, joining
the conversation.

“People change!” Ginny was yelling now. “Dumbledore just searched my memories! Ask him!”
“Gin Gin,” Charlie began, “I'm sorry. I just don't want you to get hurt.”

Ginny's lower lip trembled fiercely as she watched her brothers all stare at the floor. “So
you asked Ron not to tell me anything about Draco?”

“Look,” George said finally. “If he's changed so much, why hasn't he come back?”

“I don't know,” she admitted. “I don't even know if he's alive. But I'm going to
find out.”

-->



7. Ireland
----------



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.”

-->



8. Not Dreams
-------------



CHAPTER 8 Not Dreams

“What?” Ginny shut her eyes, took a deep breath and then looked at the chair again. Draco was
now standing in front of it, his eyes narrowed.

“They weren't dreams. At least, not all of them. I came . . . when you were here.”

“How?” she asked, hardly daring to believe him.

“I could apparate here, like mum said.”

“How did you get back?”

“I used the reverse apparation charm,” he said, his voice low.

“The what?” She had never heard of that before.

“It's complicated,” he said. “If you can do it, you can apparate right back to where you
came from.”

She eyed him warily. “Then why couldn't you stay?”

“I didn't know!” he insisted, his voice taking on a desperate tone she had never heard
before. “I didn't know the Dark Lord was gone. Did you think the Ministry was gonna owl us and
say `Oh by the way, he's gone, so come on home now'? We're still responsible for what
we did!”

“Draco-”

“The first time I came here you were asleep in my bed and you asked if I was real. I said I was
and when it was all over, I was coming back for you.”

Ginny stared at him. Those mornings when she woke up alone, his taste on her lips and his touch
still on her skin, they were real. When she thought she could still smell him in the air, or feel
the throb of sore muscles after a night of dreaming about sex with Draco, that was real. Every day
she had spent wondering about him, agonizing over him, and he had been coming to her in her
sleep.

“Remember? And then I told you that I loved you.”

“Do you?” Ginny finally asked. “Do you still?”

He nodded and swallowed. “I do. I love you.”

Her knees went weak and Ginny allowed herself to drop to the couch and bury her head in her
hands.

“Don't leave me again,” Draco whispered, kneeling in front of her, trying to make her look
up. “I came here one night and you were gone. I couldn't bring myself to go ask mum..... I
didn't want to know the truth.... if it meant you . . . you were gone.”

She raised her head to look at Draco; the Draco who knelt before her was not the same Draco he
had been when she first came to the prison, or even the Draco she left behind. “I missed you so, so
much.”

An unknown swelling bubbled up in Draco's stomach as he circled his arms around her. He had
truly thought she was dead. He had left with Nathaniel Nott and several other Death Eaters only
days after the Dark Lord had destroyed the prison. They hadn't done their job, and inevitably,
they would be destroyed next. What the Dark Lord couldn't use, he didn't keep. Draco
didn't like the idea of running away and hiding, but death didn't appeal to him much
either, so when he found out Nott was heading out, it only took a few seconds to decide what he was
going to do.



But he still had Ginny. He could come to her occasionally, when he thought it was safe and
pretend for just a few hours that things were as they should be. Then one night he arrived and
found the bed empty, and he truly thought she was dead. There was no other explanation for her
absence; after all, they had received no word of the Dark Lord's death. What else could he
think? Anyone from the prison with half a brain could have linked her to him, and it didn't
take a genius to sort through the facts and figure out where she might be hiding. That was when he
thought that death may not be such a terrible idea. He didn't know what lay after the mortal
life, but he was nearly certain that Ginny would be waiting for him. Yet, in the end, he
couldn't bring himself to do it. As much as he was convinced that he missed Ginny, he
couldn't bring himself to end his own life. It didn't seem right. He had decided to return
home under cover and stay there until this mess was over, so when Ginny walked in his room, he
didn't trust his own eyes. It didn't make sense.

“Stay with me,” Draco asked her. “Don't leave.”

He felt her nod against him, and for the first time in his life, he felt some sense of
peace.

***

“We'll have to arrange for the Wizengamot to meet quickly,” Ron told them as they ate dinner
together that evening. “The quicker we do it, the easier it will be for Harry and me to pardon
you.”

Draco nodded curtly, his distrust of Ron still apparent, and Ron's dislike of him still
glowing in his eyes.

Narcissa reached across the table and squeezed Draco's hand. “The sooner, the better. Once
this is all over, we can get back to our normal lives!”

*Normal lives?* Ginny thought. *What are normal lives? Life before prison and war and
Draco is too long gone to remember. Besides, things are too far changed for me to ever go back,
even if I did want to.* She snuck a glance at Draco, and the expression on his face told her
that he was thinking the same thing.

After dinner, after the small talk, Narcissa left the room to find a bottle of wine and Draco
followed her out. Ron glanced at Ginny. “We should go home. We need to let Dumbledore know what is
going on, and let mum know we're safe.”

Ginny focused her attention on her tea cup. “I'm going to stay here tonight.”

Ron's cheeks flushed red. “Do you really think that's such a good idea?”

“Ron, it will be fine.”

“Ginny,” he hissed, “we did what we set out to do. There's nothing else for you to do here!
Everything now is up to the Wizengamot!”

“I can't leave him, Ron,” she told him softly, still staring at the table top. “Things are
different now. Things aren't ever going to be the same as they used to be.”

“Of course they are. After this is all over, we'll settle down-”

“And then what?” she asked sharply. “You think I can forget everything that happened to me, to
my family? This isn't the time to discuss it. I don't want to have a row with you!”

“Right then,” he said, sucking in a deep breath. They were sitting in silence when Draco and his
mum came back, and Ron gave Narcissa a hug, shook Draco's hand a bit too tight, and then
offered a weak pat on the back to Ginny. “I'll be expecting you at breakfast.”

Ginny felt guilty for staying at the Manor on Draco's first night home; after all, his
mother hadn't spent as much time with him as she had in the last year. She stayed silent,
growing drowsy and comfortable as she sat pressed into Draco's side, listening to Draco and
Narcissa talk, and drank her wine, growing warm with the atmosphere. She didn't even know how
much time had passed when she felt Narcissa lean down to kiss her forehead.

“Goodnight dear,” she said.

Ginny sat up and glanced at Draco. “Sorry. I was so tired.”

“It's fine,” he assured her. “Come on, I'll take you to bed.”

Ginny stood and he laced his fingers through hers. True, he was a bit thinner than she
remembered - or preferred - but he was still as gorgeous as ever. His blond hair was a bit longer
now, hanging nearly to his jaw, but his skin was still smooth and pale and his eyes were still
liquid silver, like mercury.

They entered his room and Ginny glanced around, the memories and dreams flooding her. “I really
thought they were all dreams,” she told him slowly. Draco just nodded and kissed her forehead, then
her nose, and finally her lips. She let herself melt into his arms and kissed back. He eased the
Muggle style shirt over her head, and bend down, burying his head in her neck and then her breasts.
“I've missed you so much,” his voice rose to her ears.

She fumbled to remove his robes, his shirt, and finally his trousers. “Don't leave me
again.”

“I promise, I promise.”



They tumbled into his bed, kissing, the bed with those clean black sheets, softer than silk. He
slid between her legs and entered her slowly, as slow and careful as he had been the first time.
The sex was slow and unhurried, making up for all the time lost, and each time Ginny would think
her body could handle no more pleasure, another wave would wash over her. Eventually she collapsed
beneath him and moments later he gave way, and they held each other, still tangled together while
drifting to sleep.

-->



9. The Hearing
--------------



This chapter is a bit longer than I usually do, but there was a lot of info to cover. I hope
y'all enjoy it! Thanks a million to my uber fantastic beta, sticksrouge11, and to all my
reviewers. I just love reviews!

CHAPTER 9 The Hearing

“You said you would pardon him!” Ginny fought back tears as she shouted at her brother.

“We will,” Ron said through clenched teeth, his face red. “The trial is in the morning!”

“Why did he have to go to Azkaban then?” she shouted. Draco had been back only three days before
a group of Auror's had swooped down on him and taken him to Azkaban.

“He hasn't been cleared yet,” Ron told her.

“How did they know he was back?”

“I don't know, Ginny. I already told you.”

“You have to know! You're an Auror!”

“We don't always work as a group,” he sighed. “Someone could have been tipped off!”

Before she could speak, there was a loud crack, and Narcissa was standing beside her. Ron
flinched.

“Oh honey,” she gasped, throwing her arms around Ginny. “I just got the owl.”

Ginny's lower lip trembled and she sucked in a quick breath. “How could they do this?”

“Not everyone knows yet, honey. In fact, almost no one knows! He'll be fine though. In the
morning, everything will be fine.”

“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” Ginny asked quietly.

Narcissa shook her head. “You go to your family tonight, and we'll get this sorted out in
the morning. If you need me, I'll have our fire connected to the Floo network all night.”

***

Ginny got little sleep, waking at all hours of the night, panicked about the trial, worried
about Draco. She gave up even attempting to sleep at 4:30 and went to the shower. She let the water
run until her mum banged on the door to make sure she was still alive.

“I've got breakfast, dear,” her mum called.

Ginny wrapped herself in a towel and opened the door. “I'm not very hungry.”

“Nonsense. Today you need your strength.”

“Why? Do you think he won't get pardoned?”

“No. I believe he will be.”

“Then what?” Ginny didn't like the forced casual tone in her mother's voice.

“Nothing,” her mother told her, fussing with her hair. “Is this what you really what?” she asked
finally.

“For Draco to be pardoned? Yes! Mum, he saved me. I owe him this much! Why doesn't anyone
believe me?” Ginny told her.

“But what after this? How much after this do you owe him?”

“After this, I don't *owe* him anything. After this, I don't know where things will
go. That's up to him,” she replied, her voice several shades too cold.

Her mum remained silent.

“What mum? What is it?”

“I just want to make sure you'll be happy, Ginny. You're my only daughter. Is that too
much to ask?”



Ginny turned and faced the mirror, using her wand to dry her hair and apply a bit of makeup. “I
was happy when I was with him, you know.”

Her mum took in a deep breath, absorbing her words. “Well come down when you're ready.
We'll be leaving soon.”

Ginny forced down a piece of toast and two pieces of bacon before giving up completely on her
meal. The breakfast table seemed full of unusually cheerful conversation, as her mum, dad, all her
brothers, Harry, and Hermione sat, oblivious to her lack of interest.

They all apparated to the Ministry an hour before the trail was scheduled to begin. Ginny met
Narcissa in the entry foyer, by the thrice replaced Fountain of Magical Brethren. They followed her
family down the lift as far as it would go, and then met up with Dumbledore, Moody, Harry, Lupin,
and Tonks as they headed down another set of steps to the revived courtrooms.

“Courtroom ten,” Dumbledore told them. “This way.”

Moody nodded, his magical eye focused on Ginny. “They do love to use this one for the big
trials, don't they?”

Ginny, Narcissa, her family, Moody, Lupin, and Tonks all took seats in the back of the room, and
with a panicked heart, Ginny stared up at the people who would decide Draco's fate. The
Wizengamot still consisted of about 50 or so witches and wizards, including Auror's, higher up
ministry officials, and other prominent citizens. Harry and Ron sat directly to the left of
Dumbledore, while Hermione was a row behind them. She recognized several members of the Order and
the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and tried to reassure herself.

But nothing prepared her for the moment Draco was escorted into the room, placed in the chair in
the center, and then the chains jumped to life to tie his arms down. An audible gasp left her
lips.

Draco was noticeably paler than normal, and the beginning of dark circles were forming
underneath his eyes. Narcissa kept her composure and remained silent, but squeezed Ginny's
hand.

Amelia Bones, the current acting Minister, began the trial, naming Dumbledore, herself, several
Death Eaters already serving prison sentences, and - dear Merlin - Blaise Zabini as witnesses in
the proceedings.

“Do you agree to take the Veritaserum that has been placed before you?” she asked.

“I do,” he told her, his voice steady. It was Ron who stepped from the stand and held the goblet
to Draco's lips as he swallowed the entire glass.

When he had finished, Amelia read the charges against Draco, which seemed to be a mile long,
including torture, murder, rape, conspiracy, kidnapping, and a string of other war crimes
associated with the Dark Lord.

“And how do you, Draco Malfoy, plead to these charges?” she finished.

“Guilty,” he said firmly. “To most of them.”

“Most?” Her eyebrows raised, and Ginny felt her mother stiffen slightly beside her.

“I have never raped anyone,” he answered.

“But guilty to all other charges?”

“Guilty.”

“Very well,” she nodded. “The first witness will be Theodore Nott.”

Ginny watched as Nathaniel's older brother was brought into the room and forced to drink
Veritaserum. He was questioned at length about the activities that went on at the prison, the
behaviors that had taken place before Draco had been placed at Dartford, and, so it seemed to
Ginny, nearly everything that Draco ever did relating to the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters.

She cringed at much of the information that was presented, at Draco's ruthless, commanding,
take no prisoners attitude towards the Order and anyone who did not support Voldemort. It became
increasingly clear that while no one ever witnessed Draco kill or rape anyone, he allowed many
others to do just that.

Next Karl Pettigrew, some distant relative of Peter's was brought in and given the drink. He
too freely told the Wizengamot all he knew. Two more captured Death Eaters were questioned, and by
then, Ginny's hopes were all but shattered. With all the disturbing evidence against Draco,
Harry and Ron were going to have a horrible time convincing the Wizengamot to pardon him, if they
too hadn't already changed their minds.

After what felt like an eternity, the imprisoned Death Eaters were taken away, and Amelia said,
“The next witness will be Mr. Zabini.”



Blaise took the chair next to Draco, but no chains moved to restrain him from leaving as they
had for Draco and the Death Eaters.

“Please state your full name and residence,” she request.

“Blaise Andrew Zabini,” he replied, “of Wiltshire.”

“Let the court know that Mr. Zabini was a double agent for the Order, having willingly immersed
himself in with the Death Eaters. And would you please, in your own words, tell us what you know
about these charges against Mr. Malfoy?”

Blaise's steady gaze didn't waver. “Draco was head of Dartford Prison. He was in charge
of all the prisoners and all the guards; he had gotten that promotion shortly before Ms. Weasley
arrived. He had taken Ginny as his own personal prisoner, which wasn't uncommon, but he treated
her differently than the other guards did. I mean, I didn't see him with her all that often,
but when I did, he was protective of her.”

“Why did he take Ms. Weasley as a personal prisoner?” another member of the Wizengamot
inquired.

Ginny could feel Moody's magical eye burning a hole in her back.

“I'm not sure. At first, the Death Eaters assumed she had knowledge to give us about the
Order, but it became clear that she did not, or would not.”

“And how were the other prisoners treated?”

“They were . . . raped and tortured. And killed.”

“Did you ever witness of hear of Mr. Malfoy participating in these activities?”

“Not really,” he shook his head. “Mostly he was able to over see everything, even before his
promotion. But, as he said, I know he killed once.”

“And who was that?”

“Marcus Flint.”

“Marcus Flint?” Amelia raised her eyebrows. “The Death Eater?”

“Yes,” Blaise nodded.

“Why would he do that?”

“I don't know.”

“Mr. Malfoy?” she asked, looking at Draco. “Is this true?”

“Yes,” Draco replied. “It is.”

“And why would you kill a fellow Death Eater?”

Ginny thought she might faint. She hadn't quite told her family the truth about what had
happened with him, and she felt the room grow hotter with each moment.

“Flint took a prisoner from the dungeons and put her in his room. I noticed she was gone and
went to Flint's room. When I got there, he had her bound and the front of her robes were torn
open. I knew he planned on taking her, if he hadn't already. He refused to let her go, and I
was left with no other choice.”

“You used an unforgivable curse because he was going to rape a prisoner?”

“That is correct.”

“We were under the impression that rape was a common activity in Dartford.”

“Yes,” Draco nodded, “it was.”

“Then why was this prisoner so important? Who was it?”

“Ginny Weasley.”

Her mum let out an audible gasp, and as if pulled by invisible strings, her brothers
stiffened.

“Very well.” She turned back to Blaise. “In your opinion, how did Mr. Malfoy treat Ms.
Weasley?”



Blaise hesitated. “Good, I'd say.”

“The entire time?”

“Not at first.”

“What was it like at first?”

“At first . . . at first she had to call him Master. He kept her in submission, but then things
changed. I think he cared about her.”

“What do you mean, kept her in submission?”

There was a long pause before Blaise spoke. “She was required to keep his quarters clean,
I'd see her in there scrubbing the floors or his shoes . . . If she did anything wrong in front
of the other guards she was hit or slapped . . .”

Tears filled Ginny's eyes, and she kept her gaze burning straight ahead, knowing her entire
family was digesting the awful truth.

“Was she tortured?'

“Not with Crucio.”

A heavy silence filled the room with the Wizengamot murmured among themselves.

“What else?” Madam Bones asked finally.

Blaise shifted uncomfortably. “Ginny had to watch other prisoners being tortured. She witness
one person die.”

“Who was that?”

“Pansy Parkinson.”

“Is there anything else you would like to add?”

“No matter what Draco did in his past, he really grew to care about Ginny. He saved her life,
and risked his own in the process. I believe that he has very much changed from the person he was
six months ago.”

“Very well. Mr. Zabini, you may go,” Amelia excused him.

She watched as a visibly shaken Blaise left the chair.

“Next we will ask Ginerva Weasley to take the stand. As many of you are aware, Ms. Weasley had
her thoughts searched by Albus Dumbledore, so he will be verifying her statements,” Amelia
proceeded.

Almost in a trance, Ginny stood to her feet and walked to the now empty chair. She was too
afraid to look at Draco, sitting stoically next to her.

“Please state your name.”

“Ginerva Molly Weasley,” she whispered.

“And you were a prisoner at Dartfort Prison while Draco Malfoy was head guard?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Please explain to us why you are here today.”

Nervously she glanced at Draco, and then at Dumbledore, who nodded reassuringly.

“I am here to request that Draco Malfoy be pardoned of all charges,” she said, the strength in
her voice surprising her.

“On what basis?”

“He saved my life. He kept me from all the things you mentioned that were going on in Dartford,
and he got me out of there.”

“It is our understanding you were not the only person he removed from the prison. Is that
true?”

Ginny nodded. “Luna Lovegood Longbottom also.”

“Please, tell us your story,” Amelia pressed.

-->



10. The Verdict
---------------



Wow. I can't believe I got this far in the story. No, this isn't the last chapter,
you'll get an epilogue. I just wanted to thank my beta for being patient and fantastic ~
sticksrouge11 ~ and to everyone who reviewed & continues to review my stories, THANKS!

CHAPTER 10 The Verdict

Ginny began her story with being taken from the dungeon. “Draco thought I might have information
about the Order. I could tell him nothing, and he kept me in his quarters, I guess hoping I would
tell him something.”

“What did you do there?” Amelia Bones asked.

“Mostly I cleaned.”

“Did Mr. Malfoy ever rape you?”

“No,” she shook her head fiercely. “Never.”

“Did he ever torture you?”

Ginny paused. “Yes. At first.”

“I understand that this is hard for you, but please, elaborate.”

“A lot of the prisoners had Crucio used on them, but it was never used on me. He, he hit me. And
kicked me once.” She felt tears spring forward, and out of the corner of her eye, watched as
Hermione brought her hand to her mouth.

“Go on,” Dumbledore's steady voice reassured her.

“He was ordered,” Ginny's voice cracked, “to rape me, but he didn't. After a while, and
I don't know how long it was, but after a while he became nicer to me. He didn't make me
clean, didn't hit me. We talked. I felt like . . . I felt like I had a friend.”

Ginny could feel the eyes of every wizard and witch in the stand staring at her with a mixture
of sympathy and disbelief. She glanced up and watched as the eyes of the Wizengamot swiveled
towards Dumbledore, who nodded. “She is correct.”

“Who ordered him to rape you?” Amelia asked.

Ginny hesitated, not wanting her family to know, but mostly, not wanting Narcissa to know.

“Ms. Weasley?”

“His father,” she whispered. “Lucius Malfoy.”

Ginny had never heard of felt a silence that was so loud and heavy.

“And why didn't he obey him?”

“I don't know. I never asked.”

“Did you ever see Mr. Malfoy kill anyone?” Amelia asked.

Ginny nodded. “Marcus Flint.”

“And why did he kill him?”

“Flint was going to,” she paused, fighting down nausea. “Flint said he was going to rape
me.”

“And Mr. Malfoy stopped him?”

“Yes. Flint said he was going to do what he wanted to do, and Draco used Avada Kedavra.”

“Did you ever see him torture anyone?”

“No. I never saw Draco torture anyone.”

“Did you ever see him rape anyone?”

“No, never.” She glanced up and saw Ron's flushed face staring at her.

“But he was a follower of He Who Must Not Be Named? He was the head of the prison, and you saw
none of these things?”

“I don't know what he did when I was not with him, but I never saw him do any of those
things,” she defended him.

“And Ms. Longbottom, what of her?”

“Draco let her leave. She went to stay with his mother. A lot of . . . really bad things
happened to her. The Death Eaters wanted to get a hold of Neville, so they . . . tortured her a
lot. Draco erased a lot of her memories before he sent her.”

“And in your opinion,” Amelia asked, “why would Mr. Malfoy do this for her?”

“I don't know,” Ginny quaked, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her. Now her
family knew that Marcus Flint had tried to rape her, that Draco had tossed her body against a wall,
that Draco had kept her in submission, and Draco's boot had given her the small white scar on
her mouth. “I asked him to and he did.”

“Why would he do that for you?”

“I don't know. We became friends. When he told me that it wasn't safe for me anymore, I
begged him not to send me back to the dungeons, and he said he'd send me somewhere safe. And he
did. I went to stay with Luna and Narcissa.”

There was a heavy pause, and then Dumbledore spoke up. “Ms. Weasley is giving you the correct
account. She did allow me to search her memories, and there was no evidence of them being modified
or erased. Mr. Malfoy also looked after her brother, Percy Weasley, as much as he could, at
Ginny's request.” Dumbledore looked straight ahead and continued. “While there is no doubt that
Mr. Malfoy, as he says, is guilty, I do believe that he changed. Ms. Weasley and Ms. Longbottom are
proof of that.”

“What caused you to change, Mr. Malfoy?” Amelia asked.

“I love her,” Draco said clearly. “I didn't want anything to happen to her.”

Ginny felt as though her very bones had melted from her body. He loved her. He did. She wanted
to laugh and cry and scream.

“Very well,” Amelia Bones said, glancing at Draco. He sat still in his chair, the chains clasped
around his arms, staring blankly ahead. “The Wizengamot will convene in one hour to give the
verdict.”

The courtroom immediately became noisy and Ginny jumped from her chair and knelt in front of
Draco. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” he replied, surprising her.

“The Veritaserum has not worn off,” Dumbledore reminded her gently.

“I love you,” she whispered, as two Auror's came forward to escort him from the room.
“I love you too.”

Ginny bit her lower lip and let the tears spill from her eyes. She was afraid to face her
family, afraid for them to know what had really happened to her while in prison. She turned to
leave, but her mum was there, scooping her into her arms.

“It's going to be alright, baby,” she told Ginny, her voice tight. “It will be fine.”

“What if they don't let him off? What will I do?”

“Harry and Ron have a large say so in the verdict. They'll do what's right.”

“But did you see Ron? He looked like he was going to explode.”

“He didn't know honey. He didn't know those things.”

“Mum?” Ginny looked at her mother.

“Yes dear?”

“If he does get pardoned, can you forgive him?”

Mrs. Weasley remained silent.

“Because I already did.”

Her mum reached out her hand and traced the tiny scar on Ginny's lip. “I'll do my
best.”

“We're going to get a quick bite to eat, Gin,” George told her, stepping up. “Come with
us.”

“I'll stay here,” she shook her head.

“You should go dear,” her mum insisted. “It's after 1, and you hardly ate at breakfast.”

Ginny apparated with her brothers to the Leaky Cauldron, where they picked up several
sandwiches. The twins were unusually quiet and for once, Ginny was grateful.

“You okay?” Fred asked, squeezing her hand as they waited for their order.

“No,” she said flatly.

“Gin . . .”

“I don't really want to talk about it anymore.”

“Can I ask you just one thing?”

“Sure,” she answered wearily.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Because I love him.”

“But I don't . . . why?”

“That's two questions.”

“Why then,” George joined the conversation.

“I don't know. Why do you love Katie? And why do you love Angelina? I don't know why,
but I know I do.”

The hour passed treacherously slow, and when the Wizengamot finally filed back in, Ginny nearly
fainted with anticipation. She watched as Draco was brought in and Narcissa squeezed her hand.

Amelia Bones cleared her throat and stood to her feet. “After listening to the testimonies
given, and speaking with our Auror's, we are ready to vote. All those in favor of a guilty
verdict, raise your hand.”

Ginny closed her eyes. She couldn't bear to look. Narcissa's grip on her hand
tightened.

“All those in favor of a not guilty verdict, please raise your hand.”

Her grip increased.

“Very well. Draco Malfoy although you are by no means innocent, you are hereby cleared of all
charges.”

-->



11. Epilouge -  Starting Over
-----------------------------



Here it is. The final chapter in the Dark Days saga. I'm kind of sad to post it, cause I
feel like I'm letting it go. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks ten million times to my lovely
reviewers and my darling beta *Sticksrouge11*!!!!

Epilogue Starting Over

It's hard being Mrs. Draco Malfoy. It's hard to keep my inner demons at bay, and make
sure Draco's don't surface. I find myself continually having to play the peacekeeper
between my family and my husband. They swear up and down they have forgiven Draco for his past,
that they are grateful he had saved me and tried to save Percy, but my brothers never missed an
opportunity to harass him. Draco takes it all with surprising grace, though. One night, he admitted
that he nearly welcomed it. “It helps me to forgive myself,” he told me. He glanced up from his
desk and saw me staring at him with an expression of disbelief. “You think I'm crazy, don't
you?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You want my brothers to harass you?”

“Better than ignoring me. Or trying to kill me,” he shrugged.

I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around him. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

“Not enough,” he replied, kissing me.

After Draco had been cleared of the charges against him, he had taken over the legitimate parts
of his father's business, struggling to turn the Malfoy name into something respected and not
just feared. But even now, it happened occasionally. We'll be out somewhere and a witch or
wizard will notice us, know our story and the snide comments are sure to follow. At first when it
happened, Draco exploded; it hurts him, I know it does. People think I'm nutters as well; after
all, I'm married to Draco, and I was imprisoned by him. Despite what Dumbledore told them,
people are still convinced Draco has me under the Imperious Curse. They think there is just no way
that Draco Malfoy, head guard at Dartford Prison, were so many lost loved ones, didn't rape me,
beat me, torture, kill, the list goes on.

The very first time was just two weeks before our wedding. We were in a shop in London, deciding
on whether or not to buy new sheets for our bed and give them a go on the wedding night. Draco had
headed around the corner, looking at the red sheets.

“Red?” I had questioned. “For our wedding night?”

“They're sexy.”

“I like these,” I called, examining a set of crisp white sheets with some sort of ribbon detail
in the trim.

“Good choice,” a voice behind me said. I whirled around to find the shopkeeper watching me, a
smile on her face.

“Those are popular for weddings,” the witch said.

I nodded, thinking the woman looked vaguely familiar. “I like them.”

“So when is the wedding?” the witch asked.

“In two weeks,” I told her with a smile.

“You are Arthur Weasley's daughter, are you not?”

That was when I recognized the woman. Long ago, long before the war, she had worked as an
assistant in my father's department. “Yes, yes I am.”

Draco chose that moment to step around the corner. He was holding two sample sheets in his arms,
one red and one a deep green. He glanced at me and then the witch, but before he could speak, the
shopkeeper beat him to it.

“I am afraid that I will have to ask you to leave!” she told him, her voice rising.

“Excuse me?” Draco asked, not believing what he had just heard.



“I don't serve your kind here!” she nearly shouted.

“What in the bloody hell do you think I am?” he shot back. “A house elf?”

“Why you're not rotting in Azkaban, I'll-”

“Because he was pardoned,” I interrupted icily. “For saving my life.” I dropped the sheet I was
holding to the floor, and stepping on it, took Draco's arm. “Let's go.”

Draco barely spoke for two days. It took me days to calm him down, to remind him that I loved
him no matter what, that when he had been pardoned that put our pasts completely behind us, and as
the incidents grew fewer and farther between Draco was finally able to shrug most of them off.

It was Narcissa who had finally gotten us our wedding sheets, a stunning pair of the softest
snow white sheets I had ever seen.

“Should they go on your bed or Draco's bed?” Narcissa asked, as we fawned over the delicate
fabric.

“My bed?” I questioned, confused.

“I assumed you would want the suite of rooms across from Draco's,” she continued. “Or would
you like more privacy?”

I glanced at Draco with uncertainty.

“You don't have to,” he said with a small smile. “We can share.”

I nodded. “That's . . . what I want. If it's alright, I mean.”

Narcissa's eyebrows shot up. “I think you may be the first Malfoy woman to not have her own
suite of rooms.”

“Maybe the first Malfoy woman *not* to be married out of arrangement,” he said with a
smirk.

“It won't be much of a change,” I laughed. “I had a tiny room at the Burrow, and I always
shared quarters at Hogwarts.”

The wedding had been fairly small and simple, at least by Malfoy standards. It was held it in
Narcissa's garden, with Blaise as the best man, and Hermione as my maid of honor, and of
course, Dumbledore officiating. Narcissa sat with my mum and dad, while Harry, Ron, Fred and a very
pregnant Angelina, and Charlie filled another row. Directly behind them sat George and Katie, and
Bill and Fleur, and an empty seat marked with flowers out of respect for Percy. Blaise's family
was there, as was Draco's previously disowned Auntie Andromeda, her husband Ted, and Tonks;
Lupin, Moody, Snape, McGonagall, Hagrid (who still looked at Draco with suspicion in his eyes) and
several other members of the Malfoy and Black family.

Of course my family was there to support us on our big day, but I'm sad to say that things
never really returned to “normal” between us. I was too far removed from them for too long, and no
matter what they tell themselves, they haven't quite forgiven Draco. I don't suppose they
ever will. They still love me though. We still have our extended family dinners once a month, and
exchange gifts during the Holidays, but that's about it. I invite them to dinner half
heartedly, and the excuses are made as to why they can't come and vice versa. But I'm not
the Ginny I used to be. They think they know what happened to me, but there are some psychological
trauma's that just don't go away. They change you and make you into someone else. I love
them and they love me, but things just aren't the same.

The wedding had been a fairy tale, but married life was not. We argued occasionally over things
that in retrospect were always petty, but what upset me the most was when I would advance on him
and he would stiffen and try to turn me away. It didn't happen often, but it hurt so bad when
it did.

“Don't do this,” I nearly begged. “Don't shut me out.”

“It makes me . . . remember back then and I don't want to remember that,” he told me
finally. “I don't ever want to think of it again.

“I forgave you for anything you ever did to me,” I assured him, trying to quell my frustration.
“Why can't you forgive yourself?”

“Because sometimes I see you . . . on the floor, crying. Or hungry. You looked like a ruined
doll, and it was because of me.”

“But it would have been worse without you,” I reminded him. “You saved me.” I let my hands slide
down his beautifully defined stomach until they were at the waistband of his dark boxers. “Just let
me love you. You are my one and only.”



“But what if. . . what if Flint . . .”

“Stop! He didn't. All that is over, done, we're not going back there!”

And almost always he would give into me, if not because of my words, then simply because of the
feverish lust that still runs hot and heavy between us, allowing me to straddle him, to ride him as
if my very life depended on it. Maybe it did, maybe it still does. I can't handle being away
from him. When he's gone, even just for the hours in his work day, I miss him so much I
can't stand it. I never want to be away from him again. Maybe I'm afraid he won't come
back. I know that's silly, I know it's irrational, but that's what I worried about in
Dartford, and then when I stayed at the Manor with his mother, and so that's what I worry about
now.

I don't know why he forces himself to relive those day, but he does. But the Draco Malfoy I
married was not the Draco Malfoy I had attended school with, nor was he the Draco Malfoy who had
kept me in prison, and because of this my husband goes to see Hermione once a week. Hermione, the
girl he had despised in school, works at St. Mungo's, and as far as I can figure, she's the
equivalent of a Muggle therapist. Draco talks, Hermione listens, and I notice a marked change in
his behavior. Less and less does he subject himself to his past; he doesn't blame himself as
often for things he could have never changed.

There were some nights when I wake and find Draco sitting in a chair, watching me sleep, the way
he did when we were in Dartford. “Come to bed,” I whisper to him, ridiculous fears beating in my
chest. It's déjà vu. Me waking up in Dartford, on the floor or in Draco's bed, and finding
him staring at me, and being afraid. Not knowing if he's planning to kill me or make me watch
more people get raped and tortured and murdered. But that was then, and this is now, so I say “Come
to me.”

“I can't. Not yet.”

“But I miss you.”

And he would come to me, wrapping his body around mine until we're both asleep.

Once though, the hardest spot in our marriage so far, things nearly fell apart. There are some
things that will never heal, and never go completely away. No matter how hard we pretend it
didn't happen, it's lurking in the back of our minds, waiting to consume us. Draco came
home upset, wanting to talk about those things, the things we don't talk about, the things I
never told a soul, the things even Dumbledore didn't mention.

“Stop it,” I demanded as he broke down before me.

“But I'm sorry. I'm sorry,” he pleaded.

“All that's over,” I remind him, my voice rising to a shriek.

“But Granger, I mean, Potter, she says we have to move beyond it and we can't if we
don't get it out in the open.”

“You told her?”

“Kind of.” He's fumbling for words and his eyes are wet. “She did this thing, this Muggle
thing. I mean, I agreed to it. She put me in a trance, and asked me what was holding me back. It
just kind of came out. Gin-gin, I'm sorry!”

I can't answer him. I can't remember those things. My stomach aches and I think I might
be sick.

“Tell me, Gin, please tell me.”

“I forgive you. I've always forgiven you.”

“Tell me what you forgive me for.”



“I can't.” I've worked so hard to block these things out, and yet, he's bringing
them back. Those two weeks, those two weeks between when he took me into his room at Dartford and
when he left the scar on my lip, those were the absolute worst two weeks. If Dumbledore had
mentioned those two weeks, Draco would probably not be here.

*Each time I went to see Luna get raped or another prisoner tortured, I had to go naked. That
Draco**, the one who kept me prisoner,* *didn't allow me to wear one single stitch of
clothing, just bound my hands behind my back, and waited for me to break down. After about a week
and a half of me not speaking, he stripped me down again, and this time bound me to the wall, and
with a Muggle type whip, beat my back side until I was a raw, bleeding mess from shoulder to ankle.
But I didn't speak. I was still afraid then, but still determined not to betray the Order. And
then the worst thing of all happened. Immediately after that, still naked, still oozing blood
everywhere, he dragged me to a small room where Pansy Parkinson was tied and waiting. There were
tears in her eyes and they spilt down her cheeks when she saw me; I looked worse than
death.*

*That Draco made me stand in front of Pansy and shoved his wand in my hand. “It's charmed
so that it can only do one spell to one person,” he hissed in my ear. “And that person is this
traitorous bitch Parkinson.”*

*He took a step back and cracked the whip across my bare stomach. “Kill her.”*

*But I refused. I couldn't do it. I thought I would faint or die from blood loss, as he
kept bringing the lashes across my chest and stomach and legs until I couldn't stand the pain
anymore. I couldn't. My flesh was shredded and nearly detached from my body. I didn't want
to do it, but I couldn't stand it anymore. So I said the curse. I killed Pansy Parkinson.*
*That's when I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I decided it was better to be numb.
From that point on, I put all my time and energy into not caring, not absorbing a word that was
said or a deed that was done, because I couldn't handle it. When Narcissa gave me a bath, she
flinched visibly at the scabbed long wounds, but she didn't mention those. She only mentioned
the fresh bruises on my thighs. I don't blame her. They were too painful to look at.*

*Dumbledore saw that. But he didn't say anything. That's because he searched
Draco's thoughts as well. He saw Draco when he didn't rape me after his father commanded
him to. He saw Draco spend hour after hour after hour healing and bandaging the whip marks that had
left dozens of criss crossed scars and wounds on my body. He saw the potions and creams that Draco
snuck into the prison that cost thousands of galleons to make sure the majority of* *my wounds
healed and* *my scars went away. He saw Draco break down after he saved me from Flint and kiss
every single spot where the whip had touched.* *Dumbledore saw Draco nearly hex his arm off as
he tried to blast the Dark Mark from his forearm.* *I knew then, without a doubt that he loved
me.*

“Please,” I beg my husband. “I can't . . .”

So he says them. He names off every wretched event that happened during that time, and as I sob,
I promise I have forgiven him, and in the end, he is crying too. “I'm sorry,” he keeps telling
me.

“I know, I know.”

After that, things did get better. It was after we talked about it that Draco was able to sleep
through the night, and that he didn't erupt when people made snide remarks about us, because we
knew. We survived that, and we could survive anything.

Things weren't always hard and trying of course. More often than not, he brings me flowers
and makes me laugh. He makes up excuses to go on lavish business trips to exotic locations and then
insists that I go with him for a mini holiday. And he agreed with no discussion when I told him I
didn't know if I was ever going to want kids.



The life I live now is not the life I ever imagined living, but, then again, I had never
imagined loving someone as fiercely and desperately as I loved Draco. I never thought I would be
capable of needing, wanting, desiring someone so completely. Life, no it's not easy, but it is
good.

*******

finished

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