Getting it Together by jessica k malfoy

Rating: R
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 5
Published: 28/02/2005
Last Updated: 18/03/2005
Status: Completed

On the darker side & just a bit AU. It's Ginny's 6th year and so many are either
dead or missing. In the final battle, Draco is hit with a curse that changes his life, as well as
Ginny's life. Geez, I'm so bad at these summaries!




1. Invitations
--------------



All of the chapters in this story are fairly short, but don't worry, I'll update soon.
Yes, I know, I KNOW, I have 2 other stories (3 if you read my live journal @ http://www.livejournal.com/users/jessakitty) that
are not finished, but don't worry. Even though my attention span seems to be shorter than my 3
year old's, I have not lost interest. I just continually have about 10 or 12 things swimming
through my head at once. As the release of book 6 draws closer, I am becoming more & more into
this fanfic stuff.

By the way, this story is a bit on the dark side, and just slightly AU, so more fanon than
canon!

Chapter 1

Invitations

Ginny was tired. So tired, even her bones were crying for sleep. She had felt like this since
arriving at Hogwarts for her sixth year; Draco's seventh and final year. The death toll had
grown so high even the Muggles had noticed. Muggles, too, were dying left and right with no
discernable cause that their morticians could find. Nearly all the Hufflepuffs were gone now. There
were about fifteen of them still at the school. They rest were either dead or just not attending
school. It seemed as though the Death Eaters had gotten braver. No longer was their main concern
making the world pure; as far as Ginny could tell, they only wanted to kill everyone and everything
in their way.

Bill was missing, he had been gone for several months and Percy was in St. Mungo's, in the
same ward as the Longbottoms and Professor Lockhart, after being blasted to pieces by Lucius
Malfoy. Fudge and several other members of the Ministry were dead, and included among the possibly
dead or missing were Professor McGonagall, Sirius, nearly all the giants, Harry's uncle Vernon,
Jack Sloper, Seamus, Cho, Hannah Abbott, Colin Creevey, Hagrid, Lavender's parents, and on and
on and on and on. Because of that list, Dumbledore had made several changes to the way things at
the school were structured now, they had to study DaDa every single day, Monday through Sunday
after dinner for 2 hours. Top that off with the pressures of next year's N.E.W.T.s and the
death toll, and Ginny was ready to commit herself into Percy's ward.

She still met Draco every night in the Potions dungeon, but lately they were asleep within
thirty minutes and Snape would have to wake them up and send them back to bed. Not only was Ginny
tired from lack of sleep, she was emotionally tired, mentally tired; so tired that each day was
threatening to turn into a copy of the day before. Get up, try to remember to shower, dress,
attempt to eat, study potions and transfiguration, try to eat again, cast hexes, cast curses, get a
tiny bit of relief in Charms and Care of Magical Creatures, pretend to eat, study about hexes and
curses, practice them, do homework, kiss Draco, fall asleep. And then there was Quidditch, because
the teachers wanted to keep the things that were enjoyable. Ginny almost wished they hadn't.
She was so tired she couldn't mourn any more. Each time they received the news of more wizards
dying or disappearing or going to Voldemort's side, she received it with the same enthusiasm
she usually reserved for tying her shoes. She tried to feel bad, tried to make herself cry, tried
to make herself get mad, but she just couldn't. Instead, she felt absolutely nothing.

Ginny was looking forward to the Holidays though. They were only a week away, and everyone was
so exhausted that only four other people were staying at the school during Christmas; the minute
the heads of the houses came around with the sign up sheet people fought to sign up. Even Harry
signed up, and he had spent every single holiday at Hogwarts since he started except one, and that
had only been because her father was ill.

“I need to rest,” Harry announced, when Ginny questioned him.

“Are you going to your aunt's?” she asked.

He shook his head. “To the Order's house. My house I mean. Hard to get used to that.”

Ginny didn't know what to say. She hadn't been back to Grimmauld Place since Sirius had
died, and she certainly didn't want to.

Draco, of course, had to stay at Hogwarts, since no where else was really safe for him. It had
been more than a year since he'd been to Malfoy Manor. Since Draco was staying, Ginny was too.
Besides, someone had to feed Fang.

“Just three more days,” she heard a voice moan from behind her.

Ginny whirled around to find Ron leaning against the wall, thick gray rings circling his eyes.
“You okay?”

“Sure I'm fine. No, not really.”

“Come on,” she linked her own freckled arm through her brother's. “Let's go practice.”
Every night of the week, they had to practice DaDa for at least two hours. More if possible. Half a
dozen of the unused classrooms had been transformed and offered them every challenge, obstacle, and
even bits of advice they needed to fight against Dark Arts.

The redheads trudged slowly up several flights of stairs until they reached the room where they
were to practice new curses.

When she left the classroom that evening, she was could barely stand. Neville had turned out to
be amazingly good at the body binding curse, and each time her body stiffened up, she fell straight
to the ground with nothing to cushion the blow.

“It's good for you,” Snape growled at her, each time he undid the curse. “Death Eaters
aren't going to make sure you have pillows to land on!”

Ginny thought about going to Madam Pomfrey and begging for some anti pain charms, but she was
just too tired. If she could make it up the stairs, she could find Hermione, and if Hermione
wouldn't give her any pain charms, she would at least know of a sleeping potion Ginny could
take, or a spell or something. After all, that girl knew everything!

“Wait!” Draco's voice came from behind her. “Damn, Ginny! I've been chasing you
forever!”

“Sorry,” she smiled, turning to hug him. “I didn't hear you.”

He leaned forward and caught his breath. As he straightened up, Ginny realized how thin he had
become, and was suddenly reminded of a starving tiger. “She left.”

“Who left?” she asked.

“Marsa Marvinston. She's gone.”

Marsa was the only other Slytherin in the seventh year who had returned to Hogwarts. Several
others had transferred to Durmstrang, some had gone into hiding, others had dead and missing family
members to tend to, and a few had joined forces with Voldemort. “What?”

He nodded. “Her mother came to get her after dinner. She wouldn't say why.”

Ginny chewed nervously on her fingernail, and sat down on the steps. “Did she say anything?”

Draco sat down beside her. “Just good luck.”

She leaned against him. “I can't wait till Friday.”

“McNair is her stepfather.”

“Who?”

“NcNair. He's Marsa's stepfather. He used to be the animal executor for the Ministry.
He's a Death Eater.”

Ginny found herself biting on her fingernail, a habit impossibly hard to break.

“Come stay with me.”

“Where?”

“Tonight. In my room.”

Ginny looked up. Draco was Head Boy so he had his own room, and she seriously doubted anyone
would notice, as they were all too busy with their own problems, but the thought made her nervous.
“I don't know.”

“Come on, Gin. It's so . . . empty in there.” There was hollowness in his voice that she
didn't like. There was a lonesome, vacant echo behind his words that frightened her. He had
every reason to be miserable. His mother was in and out of St. Mungo's, his father was off
somewhere, torturing and murdering Muggles and wizards who were not of pureblood, and Draco had
been unofficially disowned. The night he had asked Ginny to be his official girlfriend was the
night Mr. Malfoy had escaped Azkaban and sent several exploding Howlers to Draco which had,
luckily, been intercepted by Dumbledore. “We don't have to . . . you know, do anything.”

Ginny nodded, giving in easily. “Alright. Let me go get a few things.”

-->



2. Finding Out
--------------



CHAPTER 2

Draco followed her into the Gryffindor common room and sat down in an easy chair next to Ron.
They greeted each other warily, like two people who had ended up on the same Quidditch team, both
desperately wanting to win, but didn't trust each other. Ginny just prayed that Ron
wouldn't find out what she was doing. Two years ago, the Gryffindors would have gone into a
bloody rage if anyone else, especially a Slytherin entered their dorms, but this year it had been
rather customary. The remaining Hufflepuffs all stayed in there because there were so few of them.
Even some of the Ravenclaws did.

Ginny gathered up her nightgown, examined it, decided it was too small and figured that she
would just borrow clothes from Draco. She glanced nervously around the room, and then drew the
curtains tightly around her bed, hoping no one would look for her. She dashed into the girl's
bathroom, yanked off her robe, and jumped into the shower to freshen up. Even though Draco had
promised her that they didn't have to do anything, she knew that there was still a chance of
her clothes coming off.

After her two minute shower, Ginny pulled on clean robes and settled on plain green panties and
a matching bra. She stared at herself in the mirror, wishing that she had fewer freckles, or that
her hair was just a little less red. She wished she had taken the time to learn more cosmetic and
beauty charms back when there had been time for things like that.

“What are you doing?” Hermione's voice broke the stillness. “Draco's downstairs.”

Ginny glanced up at her. “Right. Thanks.” There was once a time when she wanted nothing more
than to be Hermione's best friend, and Harry's girlfriend, but those times seemed light
years past her. Hermione's only friends were Harry and Ron, just as they had always been, and
Harry was more interested in staying alive than snogging in a corner.

“You okay?” the girl asked.

Ginny nodded. “Just wishing.”

Hermione sighed and propped herself against the counter with a small smile. “What for?”

“Silly things. That I had learned more cosmetics charms and that kind of thing.”

“Sometimes I feel the same way.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “It would be nice to be able to focus on something other than surviving.”

Ginny agreed. “Maybe one day.”

“We will, one day, I just hope I'm around to see it.”

“You will be,” Ginny said firmly.

“You don't need any beauty charms,” Hermione told her, reaching out and sweeping her red
hair out of her face. “You are absolutely beautiful.”

Ginny could feel her skin heating up under her freckles. “Sometimes I wish for hair that
wasn't so red. Or less freckles. Or to be taller. Or for a straighter nose. Or even bigger
boobs. I spend time wishing for these things, but I can't even bother to feel sad for my
family.”

“I think that's just,” Hermione paused, struggling for words. “Muggles call it psychology.
It's just a way of coping. It doesn't mean you're a bad person. You have a lot to deal
with right now.”

“We all do,” Ginny answered with a shrug as she left the room.

Ron looked at her curiously when she entered the common room again. “We're just going for a
walk,” she told him, keeping her voice as neutral as possible.

He nodded, and turned back to the fire. “Be careful.”

“Later Weasley,” Draco told him.

“Later.”

“You should go to bed,” Ginny told her brother. “You look exhausted.”

“Too exhausted to sleep,” he replied.

Ginny and Draco made their way casually through the halls and stairwells until they reached the
Slytherin dorm. The common room held two first year students who barely glanced at then, and she
silently followed Draco through the low hall until they reached his room. She had been in his room
many times, and she liked it more each time. His four poster oak bed was trimmed with deep velvet
forest green curtains, and held back with silver ties. The small window had matching drapes. There
was an oak desk that held Draco's mostly unused school books and a large fireplace that kept
the room warm and cozy. As much as she liked the room when she was with Draco, Ginny knew how
easily it could become lonely and dismal if she were alone.

Draco pointed his wand at the fireplace and it grew brighter, then he undid his robes and
crawled onto the bed. He had on worn jeans and a thin under shirt, clothes that did not look
exactly right on a Malfoy, but still managed to look good on him. Ginny turned and set her robes on
his desk and then followed him onto the bed, adjusting herself comfortably between his legs with
her head propped against his chest, hearing his heart beat steadily in her ears. They sat in
silence for a short period of time, watching the fire flicker.

“What are you scared of?” Draco finally broke the silence.

“Huh?” She turned on her back and gazed straight up at him.

“I mean, what are you afraid of?”

After a few minutes she spoke. “I guess that we're not going to win this war. I dream about
that a lot. That we'll have done all this, and we'll end up losing anyways. Then everyone
and everything I know will be gone.”

Draco nodded, and shifted slightly against his pillow.

“What about you?”

There was a pause before Draco answered. “Just losing you, mostly. There's not much else
left for me to lose.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

“Maybe not by choice.”

“Oh.” Ginny turned back on her side and stared at the fire. “Would you want me to come back, if
anything happened to me?”

“Come back?” he questioned.

“You know, like Nick and the Bloody Baron. A ghost, I mean.”

“I don't know,” he answered slowly, his fingers trailing through her hair. “Maybe.”

“Then you'd have to choose to be a ghost too.”

“Maybe not then. There's probably something else after this life. Something better than
being ghosts together.”

Ginny nodded. “Dumbledore told Harry that death was the next great adventure.”

“Would you wait for me though? If I went first and you lived to be two hundred. Would you want
to wait that long?” His voice was steady and casual, but Ginny could feel the hidden fear and
tension in his body.

“Yes,” she told him firmly. She couldn't imagine loving someone as much as she loved him.
She didn't ever want to wake up in the morning and eat breakfast with someone else; she
didn't ever want to go to bed, and not be positive that there was a person who loved her more
than anything else. “You can't go before me though. I'd be right behind you.” As soon as
the words left her mouth, she regretted saying them out loud.

But Draco just nodded and kissed the top of her head.

Sleeping in Draco's room was as unrestful as it had been in her own dorm. In the fifth year
Gryffindor girl's room, Luna, who was prone to sleep walking had moved in, and Hermione, who
had also moved in, occasionally let things slip in her sleep, which was entertaining when it was
about Harry or Ron, at least. Draco, however, tossed and turned in his sleep, mumbling and moaning
all night long. Finally, when she could see dawn's first light peaking into the narrow window,
she kissed Draco's cheek and headed for her own dorm to dress.

-->



3. Holdiays
-----------



CHAPTER 3

“Aren't you afraid of getting caught?” Hermione's voice whispered from behind her
curtains.

Ginny froze for a second, then continued to gather her clean robes, shampoo, and towel.

“Come here.”

Ginny tiptoed to Hermione's bed and drew back the curtains. “What?”

“You can sit down.”

Ginny sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. “Did you tell Ron?”

“Of course not,” Hermione answered, looking slightly taken back. “Why would I do that?”

Ginny shrugged, suddenly feeling foolish. “Sorry. I just thought you might.”

“Ron has enough going on. You're not going to do it again, are you?”

“He needs me. He needs someone who believes in him.”

“But you don't have to . . . sleep with him to prove that,” she told her.

“I'm not. At least not in that sense, not in the shapgging way, anyways. No one else really
trusts him. I know Harry and Ron try to, but they don't. Not really.”

“Yes they do,” Hermione argued.

“Then why didn't anyone ask him to come home for Christmas? Everyone will be at Sirius, I
mean Harry's house, but no one asked him to go.”

A look of understanding formed on Hermione's face. “You're not going, are you?”

“Not without him.”

“You can't stay! We have lots of work to do. I mean, almost the entire Order is going to be
there. Plus, its Harry's first Holiday that he's spent there!”

Ginny shrugged. “He was there two years ago. When Sirius was there. Besides I'm not letting
Draco spend the Holidays alone.”

Hermione's shoulders sagged. “Do your parents know?”

“I'm sure they'll figure it out. Mum is busy with other things anyways. It'll be
easier for her to know I'm safe and she doesn't have to look after me. She's still
looking for Bill. And I don't want to visit Percy.”

“Ginny-”

“I don't. If it was me, I doubt he'd be there.”

Hermione looked towards the window, but didn't answer. “Be careful.”

“I am.”

The day passed just like every other day since she had started her sixth year, and that night,
she climbed again into the bed next to Draco, and managed to sleep through most of his dreams.
Friday, the sixth and seventh years got a bit of a break, from regular classes, at least. They went
to their N.E.W.T. preparation classes for only an hour each and had the afternoon off to study. It
was still a lot of work, but Ginny was glad for the change of schedule, and looking so forward to
the upcoming holidays, she found herself walking through the corridors feeling more cheerful than
usual. Even Harry and Draco were wearing semi smiles, something she hadn't seen in a long, long
time.

That evening, she and Draco stayed up later than they normally would have, finding in the midst
of their exhaustion, the ability to dress warmly and take their brooms out for a ride. Ginny
hadn't touched her broom for anything except hard, draining Quidditch practice since the end of
the summer holidays and felt free enough to fly away and never look back.

When Ginny and Draco stumbled sleepily down to the Great Hall for breakfast at 11 the next
morning, she was surprised to find Dumbledore there.

“Ah,” he spoke up with a smile. “I was hoping someone would join me.”

Ginny tried to stop herself from exchanging a nervous look with Draco, but she did, and she was
sure Dumbledore didn't miss the meaning. “Of course,” she nodded quickly. “Where is everyone
else?”

“It seems everyone was so exhausted that most of them have gone home. Many of the staff went
home to their families, and some of them are at Harry's.”

“Oh,” Ginny answered quietly.

Dumbledore just smiled at them. “I do not blame you for staying here. I am rather tired
myself.”

The Great Hall had been rearranged so that all the tables, including the High Table, were gone
and one large round table sat in the middle of the room. The edges of the Hall were trimmed with
giant ever green trees, each with various Christmas themed decorations. The enchanted ceiling was
pouring down snow, the fireplace at the end of the hall was roaring merrily, and Ginny's
spirits began to lift. Shortly after they had started eating, two of the four other students
staying at the school joined them, Rose Zeller, a third year Hufflepuff, and Anthony Goldstein, a
fifth year Ravenclaw, and so did Madam Pomfrey and Madam Pince. They stayed in the Hall well into
the afternoon, exchanging jokes and wizard crackers, seeing who could chug the most butterbeer, and
experimenting with treats from Fred and George's shop.

It was Draco's idea that they go outside and have a snowball fight, girls against boys, and
Ginny was thrilled; he had barely spoke to anyone besides her in the past month. Dumbledore, Draco,
Anthony, and Euan and Ethan Abercrombie ganged up against Ginny, Rose, Madam Pomfrey, and Madam
Pince. Ginny giggled over how loud and giddy both the librarian and the healer were, then quickly
decided that it had been more likely Firewhiskey that they were drinking, and not butterbeer. They
played until the sun had nearly set, and Ginny went to bed that night, happier and fuller than she
had been in months.

The next afternoon, Dumbledore suggested that since it was just a few of them, they might enjoy
a trip to Hogsmead. “In case you have any last minute presents to buy,” he told them. “Like I
do.”

Ginny thought it was a very good idea, since she had bought presents for no one, save Draco.
When the last owl had been sent off at the post office, Dumbledore treated them to a Christmas Eve
dinner at The Three Broomsticks. “I didn't know they served food here,” Anthony said, glancing
around. Draco laughed, but Ginny silently agreed.

“It just depends on where you go,” Dumbledore told them, leading them up a flight of stairs
Ginny had never noticed before.

“There's a lot more places to go here,” Draco whispered into her ear as they entered a
smaller room with Christmas trees brushing the tops of the low ceilings.

She looked at him questioningly as he held out her chair, but he didn't answer; instead, he
smiled at her with a wicked grin and raised his eyebrows.

They had a spectacular feast, complete with meats and fruits, vegetables and desserts to rival
that usually served at Hogwarts, and washed it down with pitchers of butterbeer. Half way through
the meal, Draco excused himself to the restroom, and even he was far more cheerful than Ginny had
ever seen him. While Madam Rosmerta entertained them with stories of past patrons, Draco and
Anthony were amusing themselves by shooting miniature firecrackers from her brother's shop at
each other.

When they arrived back at Hogwarts, Draco and Anthony pulled bottles of butterbeer and a large
bottle of fire whiskey out of their robes. Ginny's eyes widened, but Draco just smiled wickedly
at her.

It was nearly 2 in the morning when Ginny dropped down on the leather couch in the Slytherin
common room, her head swimming in a few shots too many of the burning Firewhiskey. Draco, Euan, and
Anthony were still loud and drunk, alternately hexing each other and shooting fireworks around the
room. Rose and Ethan had been snogging on one of the couches, but Rose passed out and Ethan got
sick. Even though the room was still noisy and full of smoke, Ginny immediately fell into the first
comfortable, dreamless sleep she'd had in almost a year.

***

Thank you everyone who's been reviewing!

-->



4. Christmas
------------



Thank you to everyone reviewing, except the one person who wasn't even brave enough to leave
me their real screen name, e-mail, etc. *sighs* Oh to live in a world with no jealousy. Haha, just
kidding. Really, all kinds of reviews are good for me, but here's something I don't
understand. Just how “creative” can you be when you're using someone else's characters. And
honestly, if you don't like my stuff, you can always read someone else's, or better yet,
write your own.

CHAPTER 4

She woke up late the following day, finding stacks of presents spread through out the common
room. Ginny stepped carefully over Ethan and then around Anthony, and made her way to the table
that Draco was sleeping on top over. She leaned down to kiss his forehead and he woke with a
start.

“Cool, presents,” she heard Euan say from behind her.

Ethan woke with a groan, and everyone scooted away, afraid that he might be sick again. After
several minutes, he asked, “Do you think Madam Pomfrey will know I have a hang over?”

Draco snorted. “She probably has one also.”

Ginny giggled and began to open her presents. She received her customary sweater from her
mother, candy from her father, fireworks, a joke wand, and several other items from Fred and
George, and a strange, old fashion looking belt from Ron. She eyed the belt apprehensively,
wondering where he had gotten it. It looked suspiciously like an ancient chastity belt. Near the
bottom of the pile was a gray bag from Hermione with small pink stripes on it. The top of the bag
had the word's *Victoria's Secret* embroidered on it. There was a note inside that
read: *Not that you need it, but these are what Muggle's use since they don't have
cosmetic charms. It's called make up.* The bag contained tubes of red and pink colored wax,
a wand with a thick brown substance in it that read Mascara, and several containers of colored
powder for her eyes. She liked it. Besides the make up, she also found two lacy bras with cups so
thickly padded, they could stand up on their own. She toyed with the bag and its contents,
wondering what Draco would think, until she noticed him watching her. Then she picked up the last
gift. It was a small, slightly heavy box, and when she opened it all she found was a note. *Will
you*?

“Will I what?” she asked, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

Draco picked up her left hand and held it in hers. “Will you wear this?” He pulled the thick
silver ring off his finger and held it in his hand.

Ginny looked down and saw the dragon and serpent intertwined on the ring, the Malfoy family
crest. It was not exactly a pretty ring, but definitely a stunning one; the serpent's eye was a
red ruby and the eyes of the dragon were blue. She began to nod. “Of course I will.”

Draco's grip on her hand tightened, and she was suddenly aware of how quiet the room had
become. She glanced up and realized that the others were watching at them.

Draco's voice dropped and he told her, “I should warn you though. Every Malfoy that has ever
given this ring to a girl has married her.”

Ginny met his eyes, expecting a smile, but his face was serious. “Really?”

“Really. It's full of old magic.”

“I already said yes.”

He leaned forward and slipped the ring onto her finger, then kissed her cheek. “Okay.”

After breakfast, Ginny suggested with a whisper that Draco go swimming with her.

“Swimming where?” he asked curiously.

“In a place I know,” she smiled. “Everyone will be back in a couple days and we won't have
time then.”

She led him down the hall and up the stairs until they were in front of Boris the
Bewildered's statue, and said as loudly as she dared, “Pine fresh.”

Draco watched with his eyebrows raised as the door slid open. “How did you find out about this?”
he asked, taking in the room.

“I heard Ron talking about it,” she admitted, talking quickly to keep her jittery insides from
taking over. “Harry knew about it, because in his fourth year Cedric told him about it.”

“Diggory?”

She nodded, walking over to the golden taps and turning several of them on. “It helped him with
the clue for the second task of that tournament.”

“Hm.” Draco continued to look around the room, taking in the pool sized tub, the various bubbles
that were emitting from the faucets, and the beautiful candle lit chandelier that hung above the
tub.

“Do you ever use it?” she asked, wondering if he had.

He shook his head. “Not really my kind of thing. At least, not if I'm alone. So you want to
take a bath with me?”

“No,” Ginny told him, feeling her face heat up. “That's why I told you to bring your bathing
suit!”

“And if I forgot it?” His pale eyes held a mischievous gleam.

“Then we'll have to leave. You did bring it, didn't you?”

“If I say no do we get to go naked?”

Ginny shook her head violently. “Absolutely not!”

Draco pretended to pout for a moment and then laughed. “I know you want to though.”

“I do not!”

“You talk in your sleep and you said you wanted to see me naked!”

Ginny's mouth fell open and her face flushed. “Draco Malfoy! I do not! I never said anything
like that. I am going to leave if you don't stop it right-”

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding,” he interrupted her hastily. “Let's do this.”

As Draco began to undo his robes, Ginny suddenly found her stomach churning violently. Although
her bathing suit was the standard black one piece that students were allowed to bring, so far, the
most revealing thing Draco had seen her in was her pajamas. She did like the way Draco looked
though, facing her in nothing but his swim shorts, swim shorts that hung rather low on his hips.
His chest and stomach were flat and smooth, the beginnings of muscle definition were starting to
form across his chest, down to his stomach, and onto his arms.

She cautiously unzipped her robe and watched as Draco unfastened the thick, black leather
Slytherin band he wore around his wrist.

They finally made it into the warm water, timid at first, and then laughing and playing and
splashing until Moaning Myrtle appeared out of one of the faucets.

“Oooo,” she squealed. “Look at this!”

Draco's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Who are you?”

“Of course you wouldn't know me,” she began to pout.

“Hello Myrtle,” Ginny finally said. “This is Draco. Draco this is Myrtle.”

It was the first time Ginny had ever seen Draco stunned silent.

“I take it no one else knows you're in here?” Myrtle finally asked.

Ginny shook her head. “They're all away for the Holiday. And please don't tell.”

“Who would I tell?” she sighed dramatically. “No one ever comes to visit me.”

Ginny racked her brain. “That's too bad. Harry said something about that the other day. He
asked if I ever used your bathroom.”

“He did?” Her voice rose with interest.

“He said to tell you hello.”

Myrtle eyed her suspiciously. “Are you lying?”

“No. Why would I?”

Draco finally caught on and added, “Oh. You're the girl he was talking about?”

Ginny nodded. “This is her.”

“Should we tell him you said hello?” Draco asked, his voice hinting.

“That would be wonderful,” she squealed.

“We'll see you later then,” Ginny called, watching as she disappeared inside the pipe.

“Good thinking,” Draco leaned over to kiss Ginny's nose. “She's got it bad for
Potter?”

She laughed. “Don't you dare say anything.”

“We'll see.”

“Come on. Promise me.”

“And what do I get out of it?”

“My eternal gratitude,” she suggested.

“I want more.”

“Draco . . .” He had backed Ginny into the side of the tub and was standing dangerously close;
at least, dangerously close for two people with very little clothing on.

Slowly, playfully he reached for her shoulder and began to slide the thick strap of her bathing
suit down. “Let's make a deal.”

“Let's not,” she said, her voice sounding less confident than she would have liked.

Draco reached up and tugged on the other strap. “It'll be fun.”

Ginny tried to back away but there was no where to go. She could feel Draco's stomach
pressing against her own, and as nervous as it made her, some part of her was enjoying it. “Have
you ever done this before?”

“What? Taken off your bathing suit?”

“No,” Ginny felt herself blushing. “You know.”

“No I don't. Tell me.”

“Seen anyone,” she paused, “naked?”

“You mean besides the people I share a dorm with?” he asked cockily. “No. Not until now. I tried
to look when you were changing clothes the other night, but I didn't get to see anything.”

“I don't think I want to be naked.”

“Partially?” By now both of her straps had disappeared under the bubbles. A few more centimeters
and her chest would be bare also. Before she could answer he leaned in to kiss her. The kiss
started sweet and soft, but grew into Draco's trademark angry, defiant, controlling kiss and as
it did, he tugged her bathing suit to her waist.

Even though the water and thick, colored bubbles reached to her neck, Ginny felt completely
exposed.

Draco wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again, and this time Ginny kissed him back,
even when she felt his chest press into her own. Draco pulled away from her as quickly as he had
begun, sliding his hands up her sides, but keeping them away from her chest. “That wasn't so
bad was it?”

She shook her head, fighting to keep her eyes locked with his. “We should go.”

Draco nodded as Ginny began to pull her suit back on.

-->



5. Ready to End It
------------------



I know this chapter is shorter than usual, but there will be more - SOON!!!

VERY IMPORTANT news at my livejournal

http://www.livejournal.com/users/jessakitty

CHAPTER 5

The students arrived back at Hogwarts, classes started again, Draco grew sullen once more, and
Ginny fell back into her routine of living each day just like the on before. Ron stared at the ring
on her finger and asked, “Did you get my gift? I haven't seen you wearing it.”

She was not about to wear his gift. If her suspicions were correct and it was an ancient
chastity belt, the only way to get it off was to get married. Not that she was having sex with
Draco, but she was considering it. She still snuck into his room each night, and although nothing
had happened yet, the tensions were running high. He could evoke feelings in her that she
didn't even know she had. Of course, it wasn't that easy to act so shallow. Witches and
wizards and Muggles were dying everyday. No one had heard from Bill. Her mum was absolutely furious
that she hadn't come home for the Holidays. She had gotten a rather nasty letter about choosing
to side with “someone of such reputation” and she was sure the presents would have been revoked if
they hadn't already been sent. Besides that, Harry was more stressed than he had been before
the Holdiays. Everywhere he went, he unconsciously held one hand against his forehead, trying to
cool his burning scar.

“I'm ready to get it over with,” Ginny heard him telling Ron and Hermione in the library.
They had been back at Hogwarts for three weeks, and it was the first thing she'd heard him
say.

Ginny edged closer, unsure if he would continue talking if he saw her.

“You can't,” Hermione argued with him. “Tell Dumbledore.”

“He knows,” Harry said wearily. “It's got to come down to this sooner or later, and I'm
ready to end it.”

“End it?” Ron gaped. “You can't just go looking for him!”

“Why not?”

“He'll kill you mate! What do you think?”

“Ron, as much as I appreciate your vote of confidence, I already faced Voldemort several times,
and I'm still here!”

Ron was rapidly chewing at his inner cheek. “But what if . . .”

Hermione glared at him, but Harry shrugged. “Then so be it. I know where he is. He's in my
head all the time. We're going to battle at Galloway Hill.”

Ron gasped, and Ginny did too. “What?” Hermione asked.

Harry looked up and saw Ginny. He inhaled deeply but didn't say anything to her. “It's a
graveyard. The same one he killed Cedric in.”

“Why?” she asked.

Harry stood up. “I'm going to meet him in the morning. I want to get some sleep now.”

Ginny sat down in the spot he left. “We're going too.”

“No,” Ron snapped. “You can't.”

“Yes I can,” she told him calmly. “Draco and I will be there. Harry's not going to fight him
alone.”

“Of course not,” he argued. “Hermione and I will be there.”

“Right. You and Hermione and Harry against Voldemort and the Death Eaters? Why don't you
just kill yourself now?”

“What is so important about Galloway Hill?” Hermione interrupted as Ron winced.

“That's where Potter's parents are,” Draco announced, joining them. “Why?”

“Harry's going to meet Voldemort there in the morning,” Ginny told him. “He says it's
going to be the final battle.”

Draco nodded, looking thoughtful. “I'm going.”

Ron jumped up angrily, causing his chair to fall and Madam Pince to swoop down on him.

“I don't think he likes me,” Draco said calmly.

Hermione sighed deeply and laid her head on the table. “We better tell Neville and Luna.
They'll come too.”

“Longbottom and Looney?” Draco repeated doubtfully.

Ginny elbowed him. “They were there when we met at the Ministry. They helped a lot.”

“Poor Neville though,” Hermione mused. “That evil woman kept reminding him about his
parents.”

“My Auntie Bellatrix?”

Hermione's eyes widened. “I'm sorry, I-”

Draco shook his head. “We don't speak, so I don't mind. She's a bint anyways.”

“What about Dumbledore or someone?” Ginny wondered. “Should we tell them? We are going to need
all the help we can get.”

“I don't think so,” Hermione said after a moment, surprising Ginny. “Harry won't want to
be stopped.”

The night was strange and restless. Ginny and Draco slept in Seamus's unused bed, and Luna
and Hermione slept in Ron's bed, forcing him to share with Neville. If she hadn't of been
so nervous, she would have laughed at the two boys lying cautiously on opposite edges of the bed.
Dean did laugh, until he figured out why they were all sleeping in the same dorm. “I'll go too
then,” he said firmly.

“I won't leave you,” Harry told them, unconvincingly as he glanced around the room. “You
don't need to sleep in here.”

“Right,” Ron muttered, looking ill each time he glanced towards Ginny and Draco.

“Maybe Luna should sleep with Ron and Hermione should sleep in Harry's bed,” Draco
suggested. “You might be more comfortable.”

“We don't all share your non existent values,” Ron snapped, flushing.

“Oh, shut it,” Harry murmured. “We might die tomorrow. Let them do what they want.”

“Harry's right.” Hermione threw back her covers. “Ron, come here.”

Ginny gasped and sat up, watching with a grin on her face.

“I suppose this means you want me to get out of the bed,” Luna said sleepily.

“No,” Hermione shook her head. “It means I'm sleeping with Harry!”

Everyone in the room looked at Ron expectantly, and then began to giggle as Ron darted out of
Neville's bed and dove back in his bed next to Luna.

“Whose values were we questioning?” Draco teased.

“Shut it,” Hermione told him. “You jumped into bed with Ginny first. Besides, it was your
idea.”

“Well, if I hear any obscene noises from anyone,” Dean threatened, “I'm going to put the
body binding curse on everyone!”

After a while, the room grew silent, but Ginny was sure that no one slept very well.

***

Well, you should leave me a review, I think! Thank you all you darlings who do review!

-->



6. Final Battle
---------------



Thanks to everyone who keeps reviewing. Oh, and I promise, the epilogue for Starting Over is
coming. I'll get it up next week.

CHAPTER 6

Ginny woke from a restless sleep before the sun rose. Hermione and Harry were already up. Ginny
climbed out of the bed and pulled on her robes, then leaned over to wake Draco. Everyone dressed
silently, and then crept down to the Great Hall at Hermione's insistence.

Luna was the only one who ate. “We're going by broom,” Harry told them finally, his palm
pressed into his forehead. “It's not really that far away. And he's waiting.”

They followed Harry to the broom shed, silently mounted brooms, and kicked off. Ginny threw one
final look over her shoulder, wondering if she would ever see Hogwarts again. There was a flash at
one of the windows in the tallest tower, and she could have sworn Dumbledore was watching them.

The graveyard was silent and eerily lit with the colored light of the rising sun. They left
their brooms in a pile and followed Harry and he walked determinedly towards his parent's
grave. They had barely reached it when Ginny heard a voice that made her blood freeze.

“Brought your little friends, did you, Potter? They're willing to die with you?”

Ginny reached up and tugged the hood of her cloak over her face. Hermione had suggested that
they wear them so that the Death Eater's would not know exactly who they were. Ginny liked the
idea, because she thought it would be best if Mr. Malfoy did not know Draco was fighting.

“Avada Kadavra!” Harry screamed, wasting no time and causing a tombstone to split down the
middle.

Voldemort's laugh filled the morning air, and six Death Eater's began to apparate around
them. It only took seconds for the curses and hexes to begin flying. Ginny was trying her hardest
not to use any unforgivable curses, but the Death Eater's were, and out of the corner of her
eye, Ginny saw a shape crumple to the ground. Harry and Voldemort were fighting each other like
Muggles, beating each other with their fists, while using their wands to fight off those around
them.

The fighting went on for hours, since the Death Eaters were all ready well practiced at curses
and hexes, and willingly used the Unforgivable Curses. Draco had warned them - as if they really
needed it - that they should use the same curses in return. Ginny wasn't so sure about that
though; at least, not until she ducked behind a tombstone to catch her breathe, a Death Eater
screamed “Crucio” at her. She glimpsed pale hair under the cloak and knew in her heart it was
Draco's father.

“You wear my son's ring, little girl,” she heard him hiss. “And for that I will kill
you!”

The stone she was hiding behind cracked and broke into two pieces, and as she scrambled away,
she saw Draco charge his father. Mr. Malfoy glanced at him and shouted a curse Ginny had never
heard before. Draco staggered, clutching his side. Ginny ducked as Mr. Malfoy's wand shot
deadly green light at her. “Avada Ka-”

She watched in horror as Draco tackled his father. “Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!” Mr. Malfoy fell
backwards, hitting his head against a thick headstone and stopped moving. Draco didn't watch;
he moved forward, attacking more Death Eaters with a new ferocity.

Her body grew weary and she wished she had eaten breakfast that morning. Despite all the curses
and hexes, the crackling of spells in the air, Ginny was rather proud of her mates. None of them
were dead, none of them were seriously injured, and they still fought on. The sun had shifted in
the sky, but the battle was far from over. She could see Draco hold his side as he battled, and
nearly forgot to protect herself as she saw Neville use Avada Kadavra on a Death Eater. As the body
fell, the hood slipped off, and Ginny saw Bellatrix, her eyes wide with shock.

Somehow they managed to live, and with just Voldemort left standing, Harry's strength seemed
to renew its self. The graveyard was silent as they watched in fear, and Harry screamed, “Accio
wand!” Hermione lay on the ground, her arm crumpled underneath her, and her wand flew towards
Harry. He caught it before Voldemort had a chance to recover from Harry's last blow. “Avada
Kadavra!” Harry's voice echoed several times before fading away.

“Is he dead?” Neville pulled off his hood and stared down at Voldemort's body.

“I doubt it,” Draco said grimly. “Not if Harry didn't use his own wand. No magic is ever
fully powerful if you use someone else's wand.”

Ginny stepped closer and pulled back her own hood. Her entire body ached with a pain more fierce
than any she had ever known, and she pointed her want at Voldemort. “Avada Kadavra!”

She was surprised to hear other voices join her own, and she watched in horrified fascination as
Voldemort's body rose off the ground and then flopped limply back down. Ron, Draco, Neville,
and Dean had cursed him also.

“We've got to get back,” Neville said finally. “Hermione's out cold and Luna's arm
is broken.”

Ginny stared disbelievingly down at the pale, evil body that was crumpled below them. She could
hardly believe it. This was it? It was over? She hadn't seen what happened between Harry and
the Dark Lord, she had been too busy fighting off Mr. Malfoy, but one look at Harry's blank,
empty face told her there was much, much more which had happened.

“We can't fly,” Dean said finally. His robe was torn down the side and there was a vertical
cut across his face, slowly bleeding and he held out a splintered piece of a broom. “The
broom's are destroyed.”

“The Knight Bus,” Ron said softly, his eyes flicking back and forth between Hermione and
Harry.

Neville nodded. “We need to go. Before any more Death Eaters come. We need to tell Dumbledore.”
He helped Luna to her feet. Dean and Ron picked up Hermione, and even though Ginny knew there was
an unseen injury on Draco, he helped her escort Harry to the road.

Neville and Luna arrived first, and when Neville stuck out his wand, the bus appeared as though
it had been waiting for them.

“Well, let's go,” Stan began to chide them, and then stopped short. “Wha' `cha been
doin'?”

******
This is a short chapter, again, I know. Also, I wanted to note that I don't think Harry's
final battle will be anything like this, it's just that the battle it's self isn't so
important to my story, but just an event that happened at the battle, which you will see in the
next chapter!

-->



7. Ancient Grudges
------------------



Thanks again to all my darling reviewers. I know this chapter is another short one, sorry,
sorry!

CHAPTER 7

Ginny watched out of the corner of her eye as Draco crept up the stairs of the Knight Bus. She
knew he was in pain, probably in trouble, and as always, far too stubborn to say so. There were two
witches on the bus, fussing over Hermione's still limp body and giving Luna anti pain charms
for her arm. Stan walked in nervous circles around them, and Ernie sped on towards Hogsmead. “Lot
of bad spells in the air t'day,” Ernie muttered. “Can't cut through many of these places,
you know. Gonna be a long ride.”

“He's gone,” Harry whispered, his voice high and disbelieving.

“You knew it had to happen like this,” Neville said quietly.

Harry shook his head in shocked disbelief. “I thought he would get me.”

“Don't say that,” Luna snapped, her teeth clenched in pain. “We hardly want to know we went
to support the boy who thought he was going to die!”

Ginny raised an eyebrow in surprise, and if she hadn't of felt so worn, she may have smiled.
“But you did it, Harry. He's gone.”

“Because of all you.”

“No,” Dean shook his head wearily. “Because of you.”

Ginny waited several minutes then edged herself out of her seat and up the winding staircases
until she found Draco on the third floor, leaning against a window.

“Hey,” she greeted him quietly.

He didn't answer.

“You okay?”

He let out a small snort, turned, and limped towards a small bed that was crammed against a
wall.

“Let me see,” Ginny requested, sitting down beside him. Ginny stretched out her hand to touch
the ripped and damp left side of his robe, and confirmed her fears as she saw the red wetness on
her fingers. She glanced at Draco, but he was still staring out the window, so she slid off the
bed, and kneeling in front of him, gently pulled his robes aside until she had a clearer view of
his side.

“What?” Draco demanded as Ginny gasped.

His side was nearly split open, oozing blood and something else, something that Ginny wasn't
sure of, but was the silvery green color of old dragon meat.

Draco glanced down at his side, and then at Ginny. “It was him, wasn't it?”

“What?” she asked, preoccupied with his wound. “I'm not so good at healing charms. I can go
see if Hermione's awake yet.”

Draco reached down and grabbed Ginny by the arms, using so much force her head snapped backwards
before bobbing forward again. “Tell me. Was it my father?” His voice was lethal and acidic, and
suddenly, Ginny felt very afraid.

“I don't know,” she stammered, trying to pull away from him.

“Tell me,” he roared, his face red and twisted with rage. “You spoke to him!”

Ginny nodded, tears escaping the corners of her eyes as all Draco's rage and the pain and
trauma of the day came crashing down on her.

“Why would you lie to me? I've never lied to you.” His hissing voice filled the small room,
and Ginny was terrified that Ron would suddenly appear.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I didn't want to upset you.”

Draco's fingers grew tighter on her arms as he glared at her, then without a word he
released her. He held onto his side, doubled over in pain, and then as the worst of it passed,
slowly stretched out on the bed, his back towards Ginny.

Ginny watched Draco for several minutes, then glanced out the window. The sun was low in the
sky, but she didn't know if it was rising or setting. She had no idea how long they had been in
the cemetery, no idea if it had been for minutes or hours. She watched the country side roll by and
wished she was at Hogwarts, tucked safe into Draco's bed, knowing Dumbledore was there to
protect them.

After a bit, the witch who had been fussing over Hermione downstairs made her way up the stairs
to offer Ginny some pumpkin juice and small cakes.

“You must be starving dear,” the witch said softly. “They said you have been fighting all
day.”

*Oh. So we have been there all day*. Ginny nodded and accepted the food.

“Is he okay?” the witch asked, staring at Draco who was now asleep, but moaning and
thrashing.

Ginny shook her head and swallowed. “I don't think so. He got cursed. It looks bad.”

The witch leaned over Draco and carefully lifted the edges of his robe. She shook her head and
bit her lip, then pulled out her wand, held it over the wound and muttered a few words. Her wand
slowly emitted a faint blue smoke and she stirred it, staring into it before speaking. “That's
an ancient curse. One that evil wizards of old reserved for those they hated the most, family
members who had betrayed them and the like.”

*How fitting*, Ginny though bitterly as the blue smoke faded away. “How do you know?”

“I've studied a lot about the ancient world. I work in the historical department at the
Ministry.”

“Can you heal it?”

She shook her head. “I'm not a healer. I don't even know if the best of healers could do
that. I can give him some strong pain charms though.”

Ginny felt her heart sink even lower, as exhaustion washed over her. Draco grew silent as the
charms took effect.

“Come down soon dear,” the witch told her. “We'll be there shortly, and you must prepare
yourself for what lies ahead.”

Ginny hoped that nothing lay ahead because she was too tired to face it.

“Come up here,” she heard Draco whisper sleepily.

She slowly pulled herself up to the bed Draco was lying on. She sat against the headboard and
let Draco put his head in her lap. She ran her hands across his back, and tried to ignore the
bruises she was sure were forming on her arms, and unconsciously recalled a time before when Draco
had left bruises on her.

-->



8. More Than Friends
--------------------



A/N: I read a story once about Ginny or maybe Hermione (I can't remember) helping or feeling
sorry for Draco after this event & that's what stemmed this chapter. So I don't think
the idea is mine, although I've read SO many D/G & HP fanfics they tend to get a bit
jumbled. If anyone knows the story, let me know so I can credit it!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

CHAPTER 8

*Ginny was heading down to the Great Hall to retrieve her potions book, which had been left
there in the commotion of the evening. It was her third year, and things were pretty interesting at
Hogwarts. Not only was the school hosting the Tri Wizard Tournament, but the new Defense Against
the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody, had turned Malfoy into a ferret and bounced him down the
hall that afternoon.*

*She was still chuckling to herself about it, recalling the way the squealing little ferret
had bounced up up up and then crashed back down, when she saw Draco step out of Snape's office,
holding his wrist upright, and his face twisted into a grimace of pain.*

*“Are you okay?” Ginny heard herself asking before she could stop.*

“*I'm fine,” Draco snapped, his ice colored eyes flashing angrily.*

*“Want me to go with you to the hospital wing?”*

*“I said, I'm fine!”*

*Ginny narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath, then pulled out her wand. “Menadero
Hilario!”* What the bloody hell am I doing? *she asked herself.*

*Draco jumped in surprise, but his wrist immediately stopped hurting. “Where did you learn
that?” he asked grudgingly, flexing his wrist back and forth.*

*“I take some healer classes.”*

*“Why did you do it?”*

*“Because you seemed too stubborn to go to see Madam Pomfrey.”*

*Draco grunted, grimacing as he did.*

*“Are you okay? I know a couple of simple anti-pain charms.”*

*“Why do you care?” he snapped.*

*“I don't know,” Ginny admitted, surprised at herself. “Am I not supposed to?” Although
Draco's antics mostly annoyed her, she had caught him showing off several times, and telling
stories loudly for her benefit, she was sure.*

*Draco limped into an unused classroom and sat on a wooden bench, rocking slightly back and
forth.*

*“I'm sorry that he did that to you,” Ginny began, not quite sure she actually was sorry.
“I don't think he-”*

*“Don't talk about it,” Draco commanded, his voice loud and vicious.*

*She found herself chewing on her fingernail, a habit her nerves refused to let her break. She
sat down on the bench next to Draco and remained silent.*

*“What,” he finally asked, “are you still doing here?”*

*“I just thought I'd make sure you were okay before I left,” she told him
nervously.*

*“I'm fine. So go.”*

*But his voice cracked with pain and Ginny pulled her wand out again. “Dileverox
Tynanderon!”*

*Draco jumped slightly as the charm hit him, but she could tell immediately that he felt
better. “I said I was fine.”*

*“Now you are,” she shrugged, leaving the room.*

*On her way back from the Great Hall, Draco's voice called to her. “Come here.”*

*She stepped inside the room, and found him sitting in the same spot. “What?”*

*“Why did you help me, Weasley? What do you want?”*

*“Nothing,” she shrugged. Even she was confused at her actions.*

*“Don't lie,” he snapped. “Just tell me now. You have a better chance of getting
it.”*

*“I said nothing,” she snapped back. “I don't lie.”*

*Draco snorted and Ginny glared down at him.*

*“Next time I won't!”*

*Draco nodded, and then began to pace the room, something he would do often when he was upset,
Ginny would soon learn. “My father is going to be furious,” he said, glancing at the bruises on the
backs of his hands. Ginny could see one on his cheekbone, and she was sure there were more.*

*“What did Snape say?” she asked.*

*Draco scowled. “That Moody uses improper methods for most things he does in life, and it was
a good lesson to leave Potter alone!”*

*The more he paced, the angrier he became. “I hate them,” he finally screamed with rage. “I
hate all of them!” Several of the candles went out and a dusty glass globe in the corner exploded.
Ginny ducked as Draco yanked out his wand and began making things fly across the room, crashing
into the walls.*

*“Stop,” she yelled, trying to reach the door.*

*Draco spotted her and used his wand to lock the door. “Expelliarmus!” he screamed as Ginny
yanked her own wand back out of her pocket.*

*“Accio wand,” he shouted before she could do a thing.*

*She watched in fear as her wand went flying out of her hand. “Draco-”*

*“I hate them,” he roared again, grabbing Ginny by the armand shaking her. “Every single one
of them!”*

*His fingertips pressed so fiercely into her arms that when he let go, she would look down to
find five finger print bruises forming on her upper arm's, like some morbid depiction of a
flower.*

*When he did let go, Ginny wanted to run, but Draco dropped his face to her shoulder and put
his arms around her. “But I don't hate you,” he whispered, standing against her, shaking until
Ginny finally, nervously, put her arms around his back, and they stood there until he calmed
down.*

*The next day, during their afternoon meal, an eagle owl brought her the largest bunch of
exotic flowers she had ever seen. There was no note attached, but between Harry and Ron's
surprised faces, she could see Draco's pale one watching her with unreadable gray eyes.*

After that they were cordially friendly towards each other, but in a nervous and guarded way so
that no one else knew a thing. It wasn't until later, when Ginny had removed several hexes from
him on the Hogwarts Express that they became more than friends.

-->



9. In the End
-------------



CHAPTER 9

Ginny was startled out of her thoughts by Ron appearing at the top of the stairs. “We're
almost there,” he told her, settling into a chair at the foot of the bed and glancing around the
room.

Ginny nodded. “Is there fighting?”

“Probably. The Death Eaters will know something is going on. They said there's a good bit of
magic in the air today, so . . .”

“How can you tell?”

“You can pretty much see it outside.”

She strained her neck to see out the window, and saw that her brother was right. The air was
very much crackling with the remnants of spells. “I wonder what the Muggles think of all this.”

Ron glanced down at Draco. “The older witch, Glenna, is taking Hermione and Luna to Harry's
house. Should he go?”

“I don't know,” she admitted. “He might want to fight. The other witch gave him some
anti-pain charms.”

“Well wake him up then, and come down. We should be there in about five minutes.”

“I'm going to fight,” Draco snapped groggily when Ginny woke him up. “I'm going to prove
to them that I can do this.”

“You don't have to prove anything,” Ginny said gently. “We already know.”

Draco shook his head fiercely and wobbled when he stood up. “Let's go.”

“This is what we're going to do,” Neville instructed them as they reached the bottom level.
“Me and Dean and Marta are going first. Then Ron and Ginny. Then Harry and Draco. We need to get as
many Death Eaters out of the way to make sure no one gets them.”

“I know the killing curse,” the witch who had fed Ginny, Marta, said softly.

Ginny glanced at Draco, who was refusing to look at her, but washing down cakes as quickly as he
could with pumpkin juice.

“They put a spell on the bus to make it temporarily invisible,” Neville continued, “that way
we'll have a few minutes to see how things are.”

He was right. When the bus rumbled to a stop in front of the main gates at Hogwarts, no one
looked at it. The grounds were covered in wizards and witches, some in Death Eater garb, some in
their cloaks, some in the school uniforms, and some in regular Muggle clothes. Wand sparks were
flying and smoke filled the air. She could see Dumbledore on the steps of the entrance, waving his
wand and yelling. Any other day, she would have rejoiced to see him so close, but right now, he was
an eternity away. Ginny's hopes sank. The space between them and Dumbledore was filled with
battling witches and wizards, many of whom would be glad to stop them.

“Ready?” Ron asked, glancing at them.

Ginny reached into her pocket and pulled out her wand. “Ready.” She stood up and was about to
head for the door when Draco stopped her.

“Hey.”

She glanced at him warily, not wanting to hear any more harsh words.

“I love you.” He leaned down and kissed her on the lips in front of everyone.

Ginny stood frozen, her wand in her hand. He had never said that before. “Okay.” She didn't
know if she could say it back, not with everyone listening. But the thought crossed her mind that
something might happen, something right outside the safe walls of the Knight Bus, and she might
never have a chance to say it. “I, I . . . okay.” And then they went. Running, screaming, cursing,
and hexing, they left the bus and made their way towards Dumbledore.

In the smoke, Ginny lost sight of everyone but Ron, who was clinging tightly to her. At first,
she could make out Draco's voice behind her, using the killing curse on whoever crossed his
path, but when she couldn't hear it anymore, she tried to stop and go back, but Ron made her
keep running.

“No!” she screamed, crying. “Stop! Let me go!”

“Come on!” Ron screamed back at her. “You're going to get us killed!”

She stumbled as she ran, blinded by the stinging tears. She managed to wrench free of Ron's
grip as they stumbled over a haphazard group of wounded students.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm going to find him! He can't do this, he's really hurt!”

“But he's with Harry!”

“Go on, Ron. You can do this, but I can't.” Ginny turned away and searched for what felt
like an eternity. In some spots the grass was burning and the acidic smoke obstructed her vision.
She gagged as she sidestepped a hooded body, smoldering in the lawn and the smell of flesh filled
her nostrils. She hated war. She hated this. She was going to find Draco and they were going to get
out of here, away from here. She wanted to go to Africa, Australia, the Americas, anywhere that
there was no war, anywhere she could escape the fear and devastation. She was using the stunning
spell to protect herself from the stray spells in the air, but still she couldn't find
Draco.

Then there was a scream, loud enough to carry over the noise, and Ginny glanced up in time to
see Dumbledore raise his arms high above his head. Neville and Dean were on the steps below
him.

“It is over,” she heard Dumbledore's voice roar, magnified many, many times.

All around her witches and wizards froze and looked up to see what was going on. Out of the tip
of Dumbledore's wand came a silver light, like liquid smoke, and then, quicker than Ginny could
comprehend, it shot towards the Death Eaters, wrapping its self around them, and snuffing out all
life. Immediately after the last Death Eater fell, so did Dumbledore.

Ginny stood frozen to the spot, unable to comprehend what she had just seen, until Harry brushed
past her. “Get Draco,” he yelled. “He's back there!”

Ginny made her way through the bodies, those dead and those wounded, and smoke and rubbish,
terrified about what lay ahead of her while her own screams tried to burst from her lungs.

She found Draco propped against a large stone, breathing heavily and holding his side. His skin
was normally pale, but he looked as though he had not a drop of blood left in his body. His pupils
had shrunk to pinpoints, and his forehead was bleeding. Her stomach churned. *Please be okay.
Please don't die. I'll get you out of here, I swear.* Ginny dropped to her knees in
front of him and began to cry. “Draco! Draco! I love you too!”

-->



10. Bad News
------------



Thanks so much to everyone who reviews. I know these chapters are short, but there's more
coming soon.

CHAPTER 10

“Ms. Weasley? This way please.”

Ginny glanced up from her place beside Draco's bed and saw Healer McKinney standing in the
doorway. Behind her was Healer Notting.

“Healer Notting would like a word alone with Mr. Malfoy,” she said.

Draco blew Ginny a kiss as she made her way out the door. She followed the Healer down the hall
and into her small office with enchanted windows that looked out to a sunny tropical beach. The
Healer motioned for Ginny to sit in a chair, then edged around the desk to face her. A sinking
feeling grew in Ginny's stomach as she looked around the room as realized that it was designed
to make people comfortable; particularly, people who were about to receive bad news.

“Well, Ms. Weasley,” she began, “I'm sure you already had your suspicions about this
curse.”

Ginny didn't answer.

“We cannot find the counter curse or cure or anything else. That doesn't mean there
isn't one, just that we can't find it. A friend of yours at the ministry was only able to
locate six cases of this particular curse.”

“Marta?” Her voice came out high pitched.

The Healer nodded and slid several folders across the desk. “It is a very ancient curse, one
that if the ministry was aware of, would have been an unforgivable curse. In five of these cases,
the curse was used on a family member who had betrayed his people. It is designed to destroy the
person slowly.”

Ginny glanced numbly down at the files before her. “How long did they live?” She could scarcely
believe what she was hearing; most days Draco seemed like he was doing so much better. They spent
their days exploring the hospital, visiting Percy and other witches and wizards they knew. Everyone
seemed to be doing so much better. Draco had even felt well enough to make it to Dumbledore's
eulogy. Since the war had ended, she spent most her time with Draco, unconcerned about finishing
school or anything else. Her parents continually nagged her to return to Hogwarts, but she
wasn't ready; the war had taken away some of the people she loved the most, and of the people
who remained, nothing was the same. While Ron had dove head first into his Auror studies, Harry
just went through the motions, still stunned by the fact that Voldemort was gone, and so was
Dumbledore. The Order, which had nearly become the focal point of Ginny's life outside of
Hogwarts had dissolved, people eager to get on with their lives.

“That's the odd part,” the Healer told her gently. “Two of the wizards lived to be very old,
one died immediately, one lived until his 73rd birthday, and the other two only lived a
few months. It seems to be dependant on the will of the cursed wizard, and the power behind the
curse.”

“The power behind it?”

Healer McKinney nodded. “It is a very ancient curse. There are very few wizards today who would
actually know this curse, and as for those who do know it, it can be assumed that he or she is not
very skilled at it.”

Ginny had her doubts. Mr. Malfoy had been exceedingly good at every evil thing he had done. She
knew he would have killed Draco without a moments thought if he'd had any idea about the two of
them. “So he might live?”

“Yes, he might. But understand this, Ms. Weasley, the longer Draco lives, the weaker he will be.
The more care and help he will need.”

“I don't care,” she snapped defiantly. “I can do it.”

Healer McKinney's face seemed to grow weary. “What I want you to do is go home and discuss
this with your family. This decision will be your life and you haven't even finished
school.”

“I'm not going back! And it doesn't matter what they think!” Ginny exploded. “You've
seen my family! They come in here every single week, and not once have they stopped to see Draco!
Only if he's with me do they even speak to him!” More than she cared to admit, it hurt. Her
family couldn't quite stomach the fact that Draco had turned on his own family and fought
against Voldemort.

“Yes, well, I suppose there might be some hard feelings. Your brother is in here because of
Draco's father.”

“My brother is in here because he was an idiot and ran around behind Fudge all day! If he had
listened to my father or Dumbledore or anyone with an ounce of sense he wouldn't have been
there when Mr. Malfoy arrived!” She took a deep breath. “Besides, Draco is not his father, is he?
And he got rid of his father, so maybe they should thank him!”

“It was his father who cursed him then?”

Ginny didn't answer; instead she stood up and stomped out of the room. Draco was alone in
his small room when she returned, packing what few belongings he had in a small bag.

“I'm going home,” he told her.

“Good,” she nodded, sitting on the edge of his bed. “What did he tell you?”

“That I could go home.”

“Anything else?”

“You're not going with me.”

“What?”

“You can't.”

“Why not?” she demanded.

“You need to go back to Hogwarts. You need to finish school and pick the career you want and be
successful, and then find someone who can give you all the things I can't.” His voice was flat
and emotionless.

“No. No. I already know what I want. I'm going with you.”

“And what will your parents say, Weasley? That it's okay for you to live with someone
you're not married to? That it's okay for you to live with the son of the man who ruined
their family?”

“Don't do this,” Ginny said softly. “Don't call me Weasley, don't try to shut me
out. It doesn't matter what they say anymore. It's been a long time since we were a
family.”

Draco sat down next to Ginny and struggled for words. He had never been very good at expressing
his emotions, and being cursed by his father hadn't made the situation any better. “I can't
give you the things I had always planned on giving you,” he said through gritted teeth. I can't
give you a home or a family. I can't even be a good husband. So I'm telling you right now,
that this is it. We are through.”

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11. Old Magic
-------------



Only 2 more chapters to go, and I must say, I LOVE the last chapter. Thanks so much to everyone
who reviews! Y'all are the best!

CHAPTER 11

Ginny stood up and began walking to the door of Draco's hospital room and then stopped.
“Here,” she said. “Here's your ring.” She refused to look up, not wanting him to see the tears
in her eyes.

“It won't come off,” he told her, his voice flat and low.

He was right, the ring wouldn't budge. “Why not?”

“I told you it was full of old magic.”

Ginny glanced up, expecting to see a smirk, but finding his expression blank and detached
instead. Not knowing what else to do, she just nodded and left the room.

Ginny stood outside St. Mungo's, watching the Muggles rush past her in the late afternoon
sun and wondered where to go. She had barely spoken to her parents since Draco had been admitted,
and now they were like strangers to her. She had no desire to return to Hogwarts. She knew Fred and
George would take her in, but she wasn't in the mood for their antics, as they always assumed a
few good pranks could cheer anyone up, and she found herself thinking about Harry's house.

Hermione answered the door, temporarily surprising Ginny out of her stupor. Hermione let her in,
and had the grace not to ask any questions until she had shown Ginny to an empty room. “Harry's
not here now, but he'll be home tonight. He'll be thrilled to see you.”

Ginny nodded and looked around. “Are you living here?”

“No. Ron is. Well, I guess I do stay here a lot, but officially, I don't live here.”

Ginny nodded again, recalling the way Harry had held onto Hermione at Dumbledore's memorial.
“Where are they?”

“At the Ministry. With your father.”

“Oh.” Ginny sat down on the empty bed, the bed she had slept in the summer before Sirius died.
She could tell Hermione was wondering exactly why she was here, but she wasn't ready to divulge
that information. If she asked, she'd have to tell, but until then, she couldn't say a
word. The pain in her chest threatened to explode, blowing out into her body and taking control of
her. Draco. Dear Merlin, he was the only thing she had known or cared about for so long, and he had
just effectively thrown her out of his life. She couldn't do this. She wasn't even sure she
could live if Draco didn't want her.

“He's going to be elected, I'm sure,” Hermione's voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Elected?”

Hermione stared at her. “Didn't they tell you? He was asked to run for Minister.”

Ginny felt a weak smile pull at the corners of her mouth. “My father would make a good Minister.
Except he'd probably want to make an alliance with the Muggles.”

Hermione giggled, and asked “How is Draco?”

Ginny didn't answer right away, but felt something warm start to run down her face.
“He's better. They said he could go home.”

“That's good,” Hermione said, confused. “Isn't it?”

“They said that he could live to be much older, but he'll need constant care.”

“And?”

“And he said he didn't want me going with him.”

“What?” Hermione gasped and sat down beside her. “Oh Ginny, why?”

“He said that he couldn't give me a family or home or be a good husband.” Her voice was flat
but the tears continued to plummet towards her collar.

Hermione put her arms around the red headed girl and began to rock her back and forth.

“I can't make this ring come off,” Ginny whispered. “I tried and he said it was full of old
magic.”

Hermione studied the ring for several moments, and then told her, “I'll see what I can find
out. I'm going to get you something to drink.”

She returned with a large silver goblet. “It's probably more than you need, but I thought it
would put you to sleep.”

Wordlessly, Ginny tipped up the goblet and downed every drop of Firewhiskey.

It took Hermione three days to figure the ring out. Three days of pretending to be cheerful in
Ron and Harry's presence, three days of crying herself to sleep, three long lonely days of
wishing she could sleep for the rest of her life.

“I've got it,” Hermione announced, one evening, sitting in the chair next to Ginny.

“What?” Harry asked, his mouth full.

“You figured it out?” Ron asked with a smile.

“The only thing I could find was a charm called the Benadini Charm.”

“Bina what?” Harry asked.

“Benadini,” she continued. “It's very, very old. It dates back to about 600 BC, and it's
not used anymore because it's extremely complicated.”

“But how do you break it?” Ginny asked, still staring at her plate, her voice quivering.

“What are we talking about again?” Harry asked.

“Her ring,” Ron informed him sourly. “Malfoy put some kind of curse on it.”

“Not exactly,” Hermione said. “He wouldn't know this one.”

“He knew it was full magic though,” Ginny said quietly.

“He wouldn't have known how to do this one,” she insisted.

“Tell us then,” Ginny requested softly.

Hermione's voice dropped and suddenly sounded rather strained. “Well, it's a bit
unusual. You see, just because the ring has the spell on it doesn't mean it always works. The
ancient wizards and witches used to use it at marriage ceremonies to prove their love for one
another.”

“Just tell me,” Ginny interrupted.

She shifted uncomfortably. “You and Malfoy have to stop loving each other.”

“What?” Ginny stared at Hermione, forgetting that she had been trying to hide her tears.

Hermione shrugged and helped her self to some pudding. “That's what it says.”

“But I hate him.”

“Apparently not,” Ron growled.

“Love,” Hermione chose her words carefully, “I don't think is something you can just turn
off.”

“But, I mean . . .” Ginny trailed off, the pain in her chest growing unbearable.

Everyone at the table was staring at her.

“I feel like throwing up every time I think about him,” Ginny said honestly. “So that means
it's him and not me. This stupid thing won't come off till he stops loving me?”

“Can you twist the ring at all?” Hermione asked.

Ginny shook her head as she tried. “Nothing. It won't budge.”

“If you didn't love him, you should be able to twist it clockwise, and if he didn't love
you it would go counter clockwise. And if neither of you loved the other, it would come off.”

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12. No Hope
-----------



Only 1 more chapter after this! Again, thanks a million to everyone who continually reviews my
stories. You make my ego super big!

CHAPTER 12

For three long months, the ring hadn't budged. Ginny had spent hours twisting and pulling it
but it absolutely refused to move. For three long months, Ginny stayed at Harry's house, with
him and Ron and Hermione. Harry and Ron went off to work each day with her father at the Ministry
and Hermione stayed behind, trying to find some new activity to include Ginny in, usually something
related to S.P.E.W. Ginny busied herself making sure the large house was absolutely spotless, that
breakfast and dinner were ready on time, and that Harry and Ron had packed lunches everyday.

Her mother came to visit, asking her to return to the Burrow, or at least to Hogwarts, but Ginny
would do neither. Going to Hogwarts and finding that Draco wasn't there would only make things
worse, and to have her mother fret over her at the Burrow wasn't an ideal situation either.

To nobody's surprise, her father was quickly elected Minister of Magic, and when Professor
Snape was asked to step in as Headmaster at Hogwarts, Ginny knew she would never be returning.
There was no point really; if she decided to return, it was too far into the year for her to catch
up, and she'd be a year behind. She didn't want to go back to that life anyways. School was
for gossip and finding out who fancied who and rating the boys and giggling. Ginny didn't care
about those things anymore.

“You have to go see him,” Hermione said finally as she ate her lunch one afternoon.

“Huh?” Ginny looked up and was almost surprised to see Hermione sitting across from her and a
plate of untouched food in front of her. She had become so accustomed to avoiding questions she had
managed to avoid reality.

“Every single day you play with that ring and it hasn't budged. So go see him.”

Ginny shook her head. “I can't. He doesn't want me to.”

“Then get over him,” Hermione suggested wearily. “You can't live like this. We can't
live like this.”

“Maybe I should get a job.”

“That's a start. Or you could go see your parents.”

She nodded. “I think I will.”

Hermione sat back in her chair and looked pleased.

But Ginny didn't do any of those things. Instead she would get out of bed early in the
morning and wander around the Muggle parts of London until late in the evening. She found a
quaintness in Muggle bookshops and developed an adoration for Muggle shoes, and as much as she
enjoyed a good cup of tea, Muggle's had a coffee shop called Starbucks that was absolutely
divine. She dedicated her time to figuring out Muggle money and the Muggle tube system and finding
her way around the Muggle mall without magic. When Hermione would question her, she would just say
that she had been shopping, or looking for a job, or even out with old friends.

“Wake up!” she heard Hermione hissing early, early one morning.

Ginny sat up groggily in her bed and looked around. Sunlight wasn't even streaming in the
windows yet. “What?”

“We've got places to go.” She led Ginny into the bathroom and watched as she wearily washed
her face and scrubbed her teeth. “Now put these on,” she commanded, tossing a pink skirt and white
top at Ginny.

“What's going on?” Ginny asked, pulling her hair into a pony tail. “Are you kicking me
out?”

Hermione smiled thinly. “No. Just giving you a kick start.”
“Why don't we apparate?” Ginny asked with a yawn as they stood on the curb in front of
Harry's house. “Or use Floo?”

She just shook her head determinedly and stuck out her wand.

The beds were still out on the Knight Bus, and Ginny could see several witches and wizards still
sleeping. Once they had settled comfortably on the second floor, Hermione began to speak. “I ran
into someone in Diagon Alley yesterday morning. We spent the better part of the morning
talking.”

Ginny looked at her silently.

“Draco is so sorry. It was horrible to see him that way, when I'm so used to him being
horrible or at least arrogant.”

“Seeing him what way?” Ginny demanded, her insides dipping.

“So sad.”

“Is that where we're going? To see him?”

“He thought he would hold you back from having a fulfilling life if you went with him. He
thought that eventually, you would regret it. He's not doing better. He's getting
worse.”

Ginny shook her head violently, red hair spilling from her messy pony tail. “No! Why
couldn't he tell me that?”

“You would know the answer to that better than I would,” Hermione said sadly. “He's Draco.
Draco Malfoy.”

“I don't want to see him.”

Hermione leaned forward and grabbed Ginny's hand. She yanked on the ring as hard as she
could, then began violently trying to twist it.

“Ow!” Ginny shrieked as she fell forward. “What are you doing?”

“Are you aware that the Draco that exists now is not going to be the same Draco you fell in love
with?” Hermione hissed. “Are you aware that he may die soon, and you could be left all alone? Are
you aware that he is going to carry the emotional scars of this for his whole life?”

Ginny had never seen Hermione so angry in her whole life. “It would be like marrying Harry,” she
said softly, picking herself up off the floor.

Hermione continued to glare at her for a moment, and then finally began to giggle.
“Exactly.”

“Do you think Harry'll ever get married?”

Hermione shrugged. “There might be a few saints out there.”

“Like you?”

“I hardly think I'm a saint.”

“But you love him.”

“Yes,” she sighed, “I do love him.”

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13. When The End Comes
----------------------



This is the last chapter of this story as well. Yay! For once I've wrapped up everything
I've started. Thanks to everyone who reviews - I love y'all. And if you're interested,
check out the reviews for the final chapter of “Getting Personal.”

CHAPTER 13

Ginny wanted a small wedding and Draco wanted a grand, formal affair. They compromised by only
inviting Ginny's family, Hermione, Harry, and the Healers to the wedding, and everyone they
knew to the reception. The reception lasted well into the night, with sparkling champagne toasts
every few minutes. As the guests left, each one reminded Ginny that this was the best time they had
since You-Know-Who's return.

“And I'll expect not to hear one word of you mistreating her,” Mad Eye growled at Draco as
he left.

As she said good night to Fred and George and Angelina, she noticed a bit of soot on
George's forehead. “Tried to get into my bedroom?” Ginny asked him.

“Where did you learn those jinxes?” he demanded.

She laughed. “I had Hermione do it. I knew it would be just too tempting for you to if we
didn't guard the Honeymoon suite.”

“Good thing,” Angelina interjected. “They had lots of naughty tricks planned.”

Ginny's mother sniffled slightly, and her father still looked bewildered, and after lots of
hugs and kisses, all the guests were gone.

The instant they were alone, Draco began tugging at the strings of her dress. “Let's go
upstairs.”

They stood in the dim candle light of their room, facing each other.

“Are you nervous?” he asked quietly.

Ginny nodded. “A bit.” She leaned forward and carefully undid the buttons on his shirt. His side
was bandaged, as it always was, and always would be, but tonight that wasn't Ginny's
concern. It had been nearly a year since they had decided to go for a swim in the prefects tub at
Hogwarts, nearly a year since she had seen him without a shirt, and she was struck again by the
delicious smoothness of his chest. Draco slowly turned her around and unlaced the back of her
dress.

“I love you,” he whispered into her ear, letting his lips graze her ear and then slip down to
her neck. “I do.”

“Love you too,” Ginny whispered back, her heart banging against her chest and she undid his
trousers.

“Don't be scared,” his voice echoed in her ear, as he gently pushed her down on their
enormous bed. “I'll take care of you.”

Ginny tried to relax beneath him, her feelings conflicting between nervous fright and the desire
of wanting him so badly. Carefully he eased her out of her white dress and lowered her to the
bed.

“You are the best thing that's ever happened to me,” he whispered, punctuating each word
with a kiss, starting at her neck and moving to her bared chest. He let his hands explore her body,
finally sliding one and then two fingers inside of her, stroking her fully.

She gasped as the tingling filled her stomach and thighs, her hands fumbling to remove his shirt
and trousers. When he was naked, he slid down her body until his face was neatly buried in between
her thighs, giving Ginny her first orgasm. He edged his way back up her body, covering her in
kisses, as her moans made him harder and harder.

“Ready?” he whispered in her ear, his thighs settled between hers.

“Yes,” she moaned.

Slowly, carefully he guided himself inside of her, pausing when she flinch, and giving her
several minutes to adjust. Then he gently rose up, and pressed himself back down. It didn't
last very long, and for Ginny it was a bit painful, but she was happy.

And when the day finally came that Draco could no longer out battle his curse, her friends, her
family, their children, and their grandchildren came to help Ginny lay Draco to his final earthly
resting place. They tried to comfort her, to remind her that he had lived much longer than he had
been expected to, and she was still young after all, only 63 and able to still enjoy the many years
that lay before her, but it was no good. After three weeks of waking alone, sleeping alone, eating
breakfast with her extended family, but no Draco, she could stand it no longer.

*“Would you wait for me though? If I went first and you lived to be two hundred. Would you
want to wait that long?”*

She couldn't forget his words, the words he'd spoken all those years ago.

*“Yes. You can't go before me though. I'd be right behind you.”*

So after her son - dear Merlin, he looked exactly like his father when Draco was 27 - had gone
to bed, and her daughter and grandchildren had Flooed home, Ginny settled in her library, a glass
of wine laced with Hemlock in hand. She arranged an assortment of roses in a Chinese vase, picking
three from the many bouquets that had been at Draco's funeral, one white, one red, and one
yellow, and then looked above the mantel at the portrait her and Draco done shortly after their
wedding, and took a sip.

She felt no icy chill and saw no beam of light as the Hemlock took affect. Instead, there was a
slow change in atmosphere of the room and she began to feel better. She noticed a vase sitting
beside the grand piano, a vase her son had broken when he was two. *Now where did that come
from?*

Draco was sitting on the seat across from her, smiling. “I've been waiting.”

“Here I am,” she whispered.

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14. Final Note
--------------



ACK! I totally forgot to mention that Ginny's death is from a poem by Amy Lowell called New
Heavens For Old.

The last stanza goes like this:

But I -

I arrange three roses in a Chinese case:

A pink one,

A red one,

A yellow one.

I fuss over their arrangement.

Then I sit in a South window

And sip a pale wine with a touch of hemlock in it

And think of winter nights.

And field-mice crossing and re-crossing

The spot which will be my grave

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