Draco + Ginny

Author's Note: This is my first story in quite some time. I love fan fiction, but have a hard time getting my ideas out on paper. This is Draco + Ginny, my own version of Romeo and Juliet in the Harry Potter universe. Some of you may hate it, some will not. Either way thank you for reading and I hope I can provide you with something entertaining.

* * *

The Prologue

Two Wizarding Families, alike in fame yet not at all in dignity

Weeks after the defeat of the Dark Lord, where our story begins,

From ancient battles over blood lines surface new tensions,

Where those who were once honest now give into the bloodshed.

The children of these two great enemies will rise together,

Their lives senselessly ended, victims of hate.

These deaths shed light on many wrongdoings,

The longstanding continuance of destruction.

Nothing but these children's deaths could stop

The cataclysm that both ended and began all.

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It was the first truly sunny day since the defeat of Lord Voldemort. The streets of Diagon Alley were brimming with witches and wizards alike, all eager to enjoy what was promising to be the first normal day of operation for the Wizarding World after the climactic battle that ended in the deaths of the champions of both evil and good.

“I swear, those Malfoys are really something,” muttered George Weasley as he glanced to the display window of Flourish and Blotts. The window in question was showcasing the newest bestseller by Lucius Malfoy. “Discrete Defeat,” he continued in a petulant voice. “My Secret Life As An Undercover Death Eater.”

“What a load of rubbish,” dismissed Fred as they continued down. “Everyone knows the Malfoys were supporters of You-Know-Who. Lucius Malfoy, the great git, was just slimy enough to realize that his side was gonna lose. That's why during the last battle joined up with the Order.”

“Aye,” agreed his twin. “You, me, and the rest of the Order knows that. The rest of the world thinks he's this super spy, a good guy painted badly all along.” He shook his head. “Makes Snape look like a regular saint compared to him.”

“I'm at my end with the Malfoys all together. Let me just find dear old Draco on the street and see what I wouldn't do to him,” Fred said as they rounded the corned towards their joke shop.

“Ron reckons he's the reason that Har-”

At that moment thick Crabbe and even thicker Goyle came into view, hunched near street vendor selling enchanted cockroach clusters and bottomless bags of fizzing whizbees.

Fred raised his eyebrow. “Fancy having a little fun?”

“Always,” George replied as he removed from his pocket a bag of their own recently created toys: grenade marbles. “It's best when the test subjects are ugly oafs anyway.” Each glass ball was filled with a jinx that would detonate after being rolled a certain distance. The marbles were indistinguishable from one other, so consequently each jinx was a surprise to the victim was well as the executor.

Fred sniggered as George casually rolled a glossy green marble over towards the two. The tiny ball began to smoke feebly before hitting Crabbe, who almost instantaneously began to sprout large purple tentacles from his back. Crying out in pain, he turned to Goyle, only to see a patch of smoke roll by before he too was hit by a marble and began twitching his limbs uncontrollably.

Fred and George snickered as they casually passed the pair, who were by now trying desperately to pull their wands from their pocket. They had just reached the end of the street when a tall, black wizard with high cheekbones stepped in front of them.

“You're jokes are just as pathetic as your family,” Blaise Zabini said casually as he eyed Fred and George. “Foul blood traitors.”

“Say it a little louder,” challenged George. “Maybe then everyone can see how you and the Malfoys are such liars.”

Blaise narrowed his eyes at the pair. “Finite Incantatem!” he shouted at Crabbe and Goyle, who at once were restored from their jinxed forms and hurried over to join the standoff. They removed their wands and pointed them angrily at the twins.

“You know we aren't allowed to fight,” said Fred warily. “Both sides were bound to keep the peace after the defeat.”

“No one is starting anything,” Blaise said lazily, motioning at Crabbe and Goyle to stand down. “Although one can argue that your jinxes did in fact bring about a challenge for a duel.”

“ And we accept,” gruffed Goyle, eyebrow still twitching

“What's all this about dueling?” said Ron as he too joined the fray. He eyed Blaise contemptuously. “Are you dueling with them?”

“No one is dueling,” Fred warned his younger brother as George tried to push him back from the others. “Put your wand away.”

But Ron's eyes were twinkling dangerously. “You're friends with Malfoy,” he said darkly as he raised his wand. “Tell him I said hello for me.”

Blaise managed to block Ron's spell, but just barely. The two sides then broke out into all out warfare, spells shooting left and right, destroying the tranquility of what was a most beautiful day. Shouts and screams ensued from those caught in the crossfire.

“They're fighting again!” screamed a woman hysterically into a Floo connection nearby. “The Weasley's and those Malfoy boys! Call the Ministry! Send the Aurors!”

“Pity Scarhead isn't around to see his faithful sidekick now,” goaded Blaise as he and Ron backed into an alley.

“Shut your mouth!” Ron spat angrily. “You and your stupid cause, you killed him! You and Malfoy both!”

Blaise laughed darkly, his long slanty eyes narrowed. “Who cares how he died, point is your champion is gone. You don't have anyone to hide behind anymore.”

Spells and jinxes flew yet again.

* * *

“Three times,” Eirena Milore began. “Three times the peace of this country has been disturbed by your petty fighting. Three times the citizens of this country have had to suffer at your hands. Not to mention thousands of galleons in damage and dozens of injuries to innocent bystanders.” She removed her eyeglasses and started intently at all in the room. “No more.”

Lucius Malfoy held her gaze while Arthur Weasley looked shamefully at his sons.

“The war is over gentlemen,” the new head of the Auror department continued crisply. “There is a new vow of peace in effect. Your street brawls have thrice defied this ordinance. I will not have my streets run rampant by your family grudges.”

Eirena Milore sighed wearily.

“It is only because of both families services in the war against You-Know-Who that I will allow you all to leave today unscathed. If there is just one more civil brawl, those responsible will, despite their celebrity, be sent to Azkaban.”

Lucius Malfoy opened his mouth, but the Auror cut him short. “My decision is final, Mr. Malfoy. If your families fight again, your freedom will pay the forfeit of the piece.”

* * *

Lucius Malfoy remained silent until the entire party arrived back at Malfoy Manor.

“Who started it?” he hissed at the three.

Blaise sank into an armchair near the den fire. “They did. Jinxed Crabbe and Goyle right behind their backs.”

“Gave me tentacles,” piped in Crabbe.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Listen to me, all three of you fools. I don't care about your petty feuds with those Weasley brats. They are blood traitors and deserve none of our respect.”

He crossed the room, poured himself a glass of brandy, and took a long swig before speaking again. “I have worked long and hard to convince everyone that we were and continue to be loyal to the Ministry. It would not be prudent to appear to be any less fond of that family than any other. Do not jeopardize the Malfoy name again. Do what you must, but have the sense to keep it quiet.” He took another long drink before resurfacing. He looked around the room expectantly. “Where is Draco? I'm surprised he was not involved in this.”

“He locks himself up alone in his bedroom,” Goyle said wretchedly as a child. “I think he's depressed.”

Lucius snorted. “Ridiculous. He'll be married to Pansy in a month; he hasn't a valid reason for anything he does.”

* * *

“Afternoon, Draco,” Blaise said casually knocking on his bedroom door.

“Are you alone?” was the reply.

Blaise sighed impatiently. “Yes, now let me in.”

“This day keeps dragging on and on,” muttered Draco as he let his friend into the dim room. The shades darkened the room so severely it was difficult to see inside.

“I see you've definitely given up on that tan, then,” Blaise commented as he felt his way towards the fireplace.

Draco failed to see the humor in the statement. “What do you want?” he asked curtly.

“Your father was asking about you,” Blaise began as he began lighting the room with his wand. “You've been spending too much time alone, and he's noticing.”

“So what. Nothing I've done has ever pleased him.”

“You're marriage to Pansy will.”

Draco looked away, as if repulsed by the statement itself. “I don't want to marry her,” he said bitterly.

“But you're father-”

“I know what my father says, alright!” Draco shot back. “He wants to unite the Parkinsons and the Malfoys, keep our wealth and pure-blood, I know. It's all I've heard since I can remember.”

Blaise looked at him expectantly. “But?”

“But what?”

“But you don't lover her,” Blaise said. “Do you even like her? I mean, I know you tolerate her and what not…but really.”

Draco looked mortified. “Don't be stupid. Of course I lover her. She's everything I could want.”

“Then why are you sitting up here in a dark room all by yourself telling me you don't want to get married?”

“Shut up.”

Blaise smirked. “I think we just need to get your mind off of Pansy for a while. I mean, you've been with her practically all your life.”

Draco snorted. “Are you telling me to cheat on her?”

“I'm telling you,” he replied with a grin, “to have some fun before you get married.”

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Author's Note: A big thank you to those who have read. If you write me a review I will attempt to respond to it (as long as it contains a valid statement and or question). Just a note, the content of the chapters (scenes really) are according the actual play itself. So sorry everyone, you'll have to wait a bit more for Ginevra to make her appearance.

* * *

Arthur Weasley removed his glasses and tiredly rubbed his eyes. He had to get through these last reports before going home to his family for the night.

“My troublesome family,” he thought bitterly, remembering the newest disturbance his children had just recently created.

Just when he had signed off on the last bit of paperwork, a feeble knock came from the door. It was so feeble in fact, that Arthur Weasley wasn't sure weather or not his tired mind was simply playing tricks on him in the late hour.

“Is someone there?” he called out into the empty room.

“Yes, sir,” replied a tender sounding voice. The door opened halfway to reveal Neville Longbottom, age eighteen and still looking as though he was in his sixth year at Hogwarts.

Mr. Weasley looked up quizzically. “Neville?”

“Hello, Mr. Weasley,” he replied somewhat shakily. “I was hoping I would be able to see—well rather—speak to you in private.”

Mr. Weasley motioned for him to enter. “Of course. How are you doing?”

“Fine,” he replied, his eyes opening hopefully at the sight of all the paperwork littering Mr. Weasley's desk. “If you're busy, I could come back later. It's not anything--”

“Nonsense, nonsense. You've come this far already,” he said warmly. “What can I do for you?”

“It's just that, well…I came here to…” he eyed Mr. Weasley nervously. “Well, my Gran thought it best…” He took a great swallow. “I was hoping that you would allow me to…well…”

Mr. Weasley looked concerned. “Yes?”

“Do…do-you-have-any-water?” Neville spat out pathetically.

With a wave of Mr. Weasley's wand a glass of cold water appeared in front of him. “Thanks,” he said after a great gulp.

“Neville, I want you to know there is nothing you can't talk to me about,” Mr. Weasley said with a concerned look.

Neville' breath hitched as he reached for the glass again.

Mr. Weasley tried another approach. “If you're in some sort of trouble, I promise I will do everything I can to-”

“IcametoaskforGinnyshand” he rushed out finally.

Mr. Weasley blinked hard several times. “I'm sorry, it sounded like you said you wanted Ginny's hand in marriage,” he chortled.

“I did,” Neville said quietly.

Mr. Weasley looked taken aback. “I wasn't aware that you and Ginny were dating.”

“We went to the Yule Ball together fourth year,” he replied feebly. “My Gran thinks it's time I settle down. She likes Ginny a lot and thinks we'd be a smart match.”

“I see,” the balding red-head responded with a sigh. “And what do you think Neville?”

“Me?”

“Do you love my daughter?”

Neville said nothing for several long seconds. “I do-I mean-I think I do. She's the only one who ever noticed me back at school. She was always so nice and stuck up for me all the time. Even when we were in the Order, she always looked out for me.”

Mr. Weasley nodded.

“I know it's a surprise to you, but I've always loved Ginny. I--I wouldn't dare propose to her without your blessing first. Besides, Gran said its tradition.”

“But you're still very young Neville,” Mr. Weasley countered. “Ginny herself just became of age. Why don't you let a few years pass, then you can think about marriage then,” he soothed.

“Gran said when you know it's meant to be, age is just a number. My parents married young, and they turned out alright.”

Mr. Weasley was at a complete loss for what to say next.

“Please, sir,” he said sincerely. “I know I'm not much, but I love your daughter and I will take care of her. ”

A pregnant pause filled the room as both men sat uncertainly across from one another.

“I-I cannot tell you no,” was Mr. Weasley's final response. “But the decision is ultimately Ginny's alone. My permission is only part of her decision. If she agrees to marry you,” he conceded, “my blessing and fair words will confirm her choice.”

For the first time since entering the office, the serious air about Neville seemed to vanish as he broke about into a toothy grin.

“Thank you so much,” he breathed excitedly as he shook Mr. Weasley's hand.

Mr. Weasley smiled uncertainly. “Yes, well, off you go then. I'll be seeing you tomorrow night at the party.”

Mr. Weasley shook his head bewilderedly as Neville disappeared out the door of his office.

* * *

“Want to go jinx those Muggles down by the lake?,” Goyle asked out loud while picking at a water beetle walking across the stone steps outside Malfoy Manor. It was a day later and Crabbe and Goyle were attempting to persuade their leader to return to his old ways.

Draco's only response was a contemptuous snort.

“How about Knockturn Alley?” Crabbe chimed in hopefully. “We always had fun at the shops there.”

Apparently Draco found that to be an even less appealing suggestion, as it didn't even warrant a derisive sound of disapproval.

“How long are you going to be in this less than enthusiastic state?” Blaise asked scathingly as he approached from inside the manor itself.

“Until I'm married,” Draco replied dismally. “Then I'll be even worse.”

“Yes, well, while you've all but given up on your youth, I have other plans.”

Draco turned to look at Blaise. “What is that suppose to mean exactly?”

“Just what I told you yesterday. Here,” he said throwing Draco a thin silver mask.

He caught it with one hand. “What's this rubbish?”

“We're going to crash a certain Weasley masquerade party tonight. That's you're costume.”

He started at his friend. “You've got to be joking.”

“Can we come too?” asked Crabbe keenly. “We want to dress up!”

Goyle nodded eagerly.

Blaise ignored them.

“Come on,” he said hitting Draco on the shoulder. “Half of British Wizarding society will be there.”

“Not the better half,” he muttered in return, turning around again to stare at the sunset.

Blaise stepped in front of him, forcing the pair to look at one another. “As you're best friend, Draco, I feel it's important for me to tell you, as much as it pains me to do it, what has become of you.” He stared at him gravely. “You've gone mental.”

Crabbe and Goyle snickered appreciatively at this.

“Maybe I have,” Draco lashed out. “I've been secluded here more than a prisoner of Azkaban, locked up and deprived of any free will and real happiness.”

“You can put out one fire by starting another,” Blaise countered.

Goyle and Crabbe looked to each other, bewildered at this apparent revelation against nature.

It seemed that Draco too, was lost, but for different reasons. “What?”

“What I mean is you can snap out of whatever this is by putting it all our of your mind. Come with us tonight. Have some fun,” he said earnestly. “It's time for the old Draco to make an appearance.”

Draco looked at him uncertainly.

“Unless you're content to remain a pansy before actually being wed to the aforementioned Pansy,” he added scathingly.

Draco was torn. He in no way was eager to break free of his current state, yet his pride, something he always, well, prided himself on, was being called out.

“I'll go with you. Not because I want to have fun,” he added contemptuously. “But because I want you all to see what Draco Malfoy is still capable of.”

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A/N: Thanks to all who have read. I've been curious as to how many people are actually following this story with interest, so if you could please leave a review (any length is fine) with your thoughts or questions I'd be much obliged.

Someone asked if there would be other pairings in this story, and the answer is a most definite no. Seeing as Harry is dead, he very well cannot be with Hermione. Luna won't come into play at all (as of now at least) and Ron is…well...a whole other story. Ron is essentially the character of Tybalt, who is a pretty serious dude in the play. You've had a brief mention already of why he is the way he is. He's lost his innocence and is now essentially trapped in his own world of vengeance and hate. But more on that later. :o)

* * *

“Hermione dear, have you seen Ginny at all today?” Mrs. Weasley asked while bustling about the kitchen. “Guests will be arriving within the hour and I have yet to see that daughter of mine.”

“I think she's just got in,” Hermione responded as she finished hanging black and gold streamers around the Weasley's living room with a wave of her wand.

Mr. Weasley sighed indignantly. “Where that girl goes off to I'll never know. Would you be a dear and call her down for me,” she directed at the young witch who was now blowing up balloons with a flick. “She can help you with the decorating while I tell her all about Neville.”

“What's this about Neville?” Ginny questioned as she bounded down the last steps of the Burrow's rickety stairs.

“There you are,” her mother replied hurriedly. “It's about time you start helping us with your father's party. And don't touch those,” she added as Ginny reached for a plate of sandwiches. “They're for the guests.”

.

“And since I've lived here for the last seventeen years, I suppose that means I don't get to eat,” she said matter-of-factly.

Mrs. Weasley raised her eyebrows at her youngest child. “You'll eat once we're through and you're dressed. Now help Hermione with those balloons.”

Ginny threw up her hands defeatedly. “Fine,” she said walking into the living room to join her friend.

“You won't believe what your father told me this morning,” Mrs. Weasley started as the girls swished and flicked away. “It seems that Neville came to visit him at the office yesterday.”

“Neville?” Hermione questioned. “What would he want?”

“That's just what I asked Arthur. He doesn't want you to know Ginny, so I trust you girls can keep this between yourselves.”

Hermione and Ginny exchanged interested glances. “Alright,” they acquiesced.

“Neville asked for your father's permission to ask for your hand, Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley said excitedly.

There was momentary silence, followed by a loud pop as Ginny accidentally blew up a black balloon. She froze briefly, afraid she had misunderstood what her mother had just said to her. She glanced at Hermione, who too wore a puzzled expression on her face.

“Isn't it wonderful?” Mrs. Weasley continued, unable to see her daughter's reaction while bustling about in the adjoining room. “If all goes well, we can have the wedding within the year. We'll have to meet with Augusta, of course, and she can be rather forceful at times. The good thing is that you won't have to worry about…”

It was at this time that Ginny quit registering what her mother was going on about. Marry Neville Longbottom? Her? It was one thing to be his friend, but his wife? Not to mention the conjugal duties that came with said title. Disturbed at the mere thought of having to be intimate with the round-faced, doe-eyed boy, she knew at once she had to stop the thoughts of marriage that her mother seemed to be entertaining so grandly in her head.

Hermione had already begun blowing up the balloons again, still listening to Mrs. Weasley while keeping a wary eye on Ginny as well.

Ginny took a deep breath. “Mum?”

Mrs. Weasley seemed unable to hear her, as she had continued with her banter and was now onto, what Ginny realized with horror, possible honeymoon locations for the newlyweds. “Your father was always interested in holidaying at that Muggle amusement park in the States. Diz-nee-land…or something like that. I always said that New Guinea…”

“Mum!” she called out a little louder. Pop went another balloon at the end of her wand.

“…because your great Aunt Muriel went there, and she said it was completely divine. Of course that was over forty years ago...”

“MUM!” Ginny practically screamed.

Mrs. Weasley rushed into the living room, wiping her hands on her apron along the way. “What in great Cesar's ghost has gotten into you?” she asked Ginny with a pointed stare.

Trying not to set off her mother, Ginny thought it best to start in a calm tone. “Mum,” she said carefully. “I think you've forgotten something rather important.”

“Like what?”

“Like love,” she said flatly. “Neville and I don't love each other. And I don't think that just because someone asks you to marry them you should-”

“But Neville does,” she said importantly. “He told your father so.”

Ginny laughed weakly. “He…he…what?” she finished with a deadpan.

“He loves you,” she repeated clearly. “Surely that must mean something.”

“Yeah Mum, it means he's a stalker!” Ginny groaned in frustration. “And I can't believe you're actually trying to force this on me!”

“I'm not forcing this on anyone,” Mrs. Weasley replied shortly. “I just think you should be open to the possibility. You are so stubborn Ginny, that you let great things pass you right by just because it's not perfect to you. ”

“When it comes to who I am going to marry, I think I have all the right in the world to be a tad picky,” she shot back defensively.

Mrs. Weasley clicked her tongue loudly. “All I am asking for you to do is at least try to get along with Neville. Try and be accepting of his love. That boy has had a difficult life, and not enough of it filled with love if you ask me. Imagine your parents in the state that his are in, orphaned as a baby, in constant fear of You-Know-Who's followers…”

And she's off again, Ginny thought tiredly. I'll never get her to stop unless…

“Alright Mum! Alright!”

Mrs. Weasley became silent. She smiled hopefully.

“I'll look at him …and try to like him,” she granted. “At least if what I see is likable.”

Mrs. Weasley knew this was the most she could expect from her daughter (at least for the time being) and departed back into the kitchen. Ginny, now thoroughly indignant, returned to blowing up balloons with Hermione - until -

Pop! Pop! Pop!

“Let's get you away from the balloons for a while,” said Hermione as she gingerly led her friend away from the living room. “Try and put it out of your mind, at least for tonight.”

“I can't,” she replied with a shudder. “Neville will be here, and I'll have to dance with him.”

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A/N: Some of my characters DIED. They flat out DIED in Deathly Hallows. This story was already alternate universe, but now it REALLY is alternate universe. This scene is a short one.

* * *

Draco sat dejectedly on the front steps of Malfoy Manor. He was waiting for Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle so they could gatecrash the Weasley's Masquerade party.

Like it would help, Draco thought indignantly.

It had become increasingly clear to him since he became of age over a year ago that the life he was living, his life, was not his. He was a living duplicate of his father, different only in age and first name. He would never get to choose anything for himself: his career (slated in the Ministry), his marriage (doomed to wed Pansy practically since birth), even his house at Hogwarts (brainwashed into Slytherin ways as a child). Rather than fighting his family, Draco found it easier to go along with their ideals. What was the point, after all? He had nothing worth fighting for. He had begun to withdraw over the last year, taken to writing in journals about his dismal views on life. He shut himself in his room almost always, leaving only for the occasional midnight walk around the grounds. He pulled away from his gang, who united under the Malfoy name for both protection and power. He even refused to see his betrothed, as her presence was a frequent reminder that he was in fact doomed to a sham, loveless marriage. Narcissa quite deliberately ignored her son's change in demeanor, satisfying herself and her husband with the excuse that it was simply a pre-wedding compulsory.

Blaise, his best friend since before Hogwarts, had immediately taken a notice to Draco's new less than enthusiastic attitude. He found that he was really not surprised by Draco's behavior, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that his friend would one day wake up from the empty fantasy that was Lucius Malfoy's life. Blaise alone had stood by Draco, never sneering at him to get his act together like Lucius or barraging him with pestering questions like Crabbe and Goyle. Blaise alone had extraordinarily understood.

Until recently Draco thought. Now Blaise was calling Draco out, playing at his pride in order to bring some life back to his friend. It's not going to help he repeated again in his head. He was dead set on remaining miserable, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

“Ready for some mischief, then?” Blaise said conversationally as he plopped down besides Draco on the steps, Crabbe and Goyle lumbering behind him.

“How come I have to be the jester?” whined Crabbe. He looked painfully at the purple and green costume he was wearing. The bells on his three point hat jingled merrily as he cranked his neck around to examine the backside of the costume.

Blaise glanced at him momentarily. “It suits you, believe me,” was all he said.

“This isn't going to work,” Draco said to Blaise, eyes staring straight ahead into the night sky. “Do you really think that they're not going to notice that Draco Malfoy and gang have just crashed Arthur Weasley's birthday?”

“Ah, I was hoping you'd ask,” Blaise responded almost gleefully. With a flick of his wand Crabbe's face had been painted white and a thin green masquerade mask had appeared over his eyes. “You forget, dear Draco, that it is a masquerade party! Everyone will be in costume, so we'll just blend in with the rest of the crowd.”

With another flick Goyle, who was dressed darkly as a medieval muggle executioner, had his head completely covered as his hooded tunic came around over his face. He looked immensely foreboding as only his small, beady eyes were visible through the hood.

Blaise did himself next. A fake yet uncannily realistic beard and mustache sprung from his face as he popped an eye patch over his left eye to complete, what Draco thought begrudgingly, was a very convincing pirate disguise.

“As for you,” Blaise said standing up to face Draco. “Your hair is a dead give away.”

Draco's hand went instantly to his head, his fingers grazing his white-blond hair protectively. Blaise pulled a small vile of dark brown liquid from his pocket.

“I'm not taking any bloody Polyjuice Potion,” Draco said heatedly.

Blaise shoved the vile into his hand. “Calm down,” he said. “It'll just change your hair color. For a few hours anyway.”

Draco glared the vile in his hand, then back at Blaise, apparently unconvinced.

“Come on, Draco. Even if you're wearing a mask, everyone will recognize that Malfoy hair from across the room.” Blaise glared back at him contemptuously.

Draco look back to Crabbe and Goyle, who by now were taking turns with Goyle's fake executioner's axe, pretending to decapitate one another and then guffawing heartily.

“Remind me, why are we doing this again?”

“Because you've become about as fun as blast-ended skrewt,” Blaise retorted matter-of-factly. “And I've got a good feeling about tonight.”

Draco grunted dismissively.

“We are going to scope out the ladies,” Blaise said with a grin. “Party recklessly, and get pissed drunk by the end of the night.”

“And get back those Weasley's for jinxing us,” added Goyle.

“And maybe…we'll even find you a gorgeous witch so you can cheer up already.”

“Why don't we just hit him with a Cheering Charm?” Crabbe asked the others.

“Just try it,” Draco spat and he turned to give his friend a very dirty look.

“That'll be plan B,” Blaise said pointedly. “Well?”

Draco shrugged and uncorked the vile. “Life can't get any worse,” he muttered as he tipped the glass lip of the vile to his own and drank the murky potion. It tasted bitter and oily and he sputtered slightly as it went down his throat.

Nearly instantly he felt heat atop his head. Transfiguring a fallen leaf into a mirror, he was shocked to see his own reflection. His own pale face and gray eyes stared back at him just the same as ever, yet his hair and eyebrows had turned black. It was strange.

“You don't look like a Malfoy anymore,” Blaise said gleefully as he clapped Draco on the back. “Now let's go already! The night is young!” And with that he set off down the path toward the manor gates. Goyle and Crabbe followed as always, Goyle hitting Crabbe from behind with his long axe as they walked. Crabbe kept looked behind himself, oblivious to where the annoying strike was coming from.

Draco looked at his friends, then back at himself in the mirror. Maybe tonight, he thought, he wasn't a Malfoy.

“Get your arse over here, Draco!” called Blaise from down the path. The gang had stopped halfway to wait for him.

Draco looked back at his reflection and grinned. “Coming!” he shouted after them and took off down the steps of the manor to meet them.

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The Weasley's Masquerade party was at its peak when Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, and Draco finally arrived.

The lawn of The Burrow had been decorated with black and gold streamers draped artistically over the trees and bushes while twinkling fairy lights that floated around and about. Large bundles of balloons swayed merrily in the sweet breeze that filled the area. Loud, lively music filled the scene originating from an ornate white tent set up in the middle of the lawn. Inside was a large dance floor where many guests were happily dancing the night away.

Blaise had commented earlier that half of the local Wizarding society would be present, and it seemed to Draco to be the truth. There were people everywhere dressed in fun, elaborate costumes. People with colorful, feathered, sequenced masks surrounded him. With a pang Draco was reminded of a very different type of mask: the kind that usually resulted with the Dark Mark looming overhead.

That's all over now Draco reminded himself.

To his right Blaise elbowed him gruffly in the ribs. “Put your mask on, you wanker,” he whispered as they passed through front gate of the Burrow.

He had forgotten. Draco hurriedly withdrew a silver mask from his pocket and set it over his eyes.

Blaise studied him. “Maybe you should have taken some Polyjuice Potion,” he announced. “That mask only partly covers your face.”

“It'll be enough,” Draco drawled. “No one will guess it's me with this hair.”

Blaise gave his friend a dubious look. “Just make sure that mask stays on. Put a Fixing Charm on it or something.”

“Whatever you want,” said Draco, and with a wave of his wand over his face the mask pressed firmly onto his skin. “Satisfied?”

“Quite. You make a very dashing knight by the way,” Blaise sniggered.

“You gave me this costume,” he countered fingering the chain mail tunic that covered his chest. “And you've always been jealous of my dashing.”

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.

Blaise grinned. “Let's have at it boys. Tonight we are whoever we want to be.”

* * *

It was their fourth dance. Neville had stepped on her toes for a majority of those four dances. Ginny had also feigned politeness for a majority of those four dances. Neville was nice enough, she thought but where did he come off asking her to marry him? It was ridicul-

“Ouch!” Neville had taken a wrong step and crushed her foot yet again.

“Sorry!” squeaked Neville. His round face went red.

“I think that's quite enough dancing for now,” Ginny said letting go of Neville's shoulders and turning away.

He looked crestfallen. Ginny bit her lip. “Uh, I'm thirsty Neville. Could you go and get me something?” He nodded anxiously and strode off toward the Burrow, the tail of his alligator costume bouncing steadily in his wake. She had half a heart to tell him he was going entirely the wrong way, but thought better of it. The longer he took, the better.

Ginny took off across the opposite side of the dance floor. She had to get as far away from Neville as she could. In her hurry she ran into a girl in a red and white ball gown.

“Sorry, sorry,” Ginny breathed to the girl as she steadied herself.

“Ginny, is that you?”

Ginny blinked and looked at the girl again. “Oh, Hermione I didn't recognize you!”

Hermione laughed and moved her red and white mask to the side. “I almost didn't recognize you either! I knew you were going to be a fairy, but I didn't get a chance to see you in costume with all the preparations and decorating. You look great!”

“Thanks. I like your costume,” Ginny said appreciatively. “The Queen of Hearts. Brilliant.”

“Thank you,” Hermione replied with a regal bow. “Have you seen Ron anywhere?”

“No!” Ginny shouted as the band started up a rather raucous number. “But it's hard to spot anyone here unless you know what they came as!” Ginny and Hermione made their way off the dance floor. “Did Ron tell you what he his costume was?”

Hermione shook her head. “He doesn't tell me much of anything these days.” Her eyes were troubled.

“Don't you think on it, Hermione,” Ginny said quickly. “It's nothing to do with you.”

“He was devastated by Harry's death,” she said softly. “And I haven't been able to help him cope. He can't understand that it's what Harry wanted, what he knew had to be done. I've tried to tell him-”

Ginny saw the tears mounting in Hermione's eyes as she spoke. “Ron's a thickhead. He always has been,” Ginny soothed. “He's shutting everyone out. He's not himself anymore.”

“He worries me so.”

“He worries us all,” Ginny said. “Especially Mum.”

Mum Neville. Throbbing toes.

Suddenly her deranged brother was the furthest thing from her mind. “Damn!”

Hermione looked scandalized. “What is it?”

“You've got to help me get far away from Neville.” She looked around warily, as if expecting him to pop out at any moment. “Far, far, far, away.”

“But I saw you dancing. You two looked...quaint.”

Ginny wrinkled her nose. “Quaint is a word people use when they are secretly absolutely horrified,” she said resolutely. “I have half a mind to set Neville straight on this whole marriage kick right now.”

“You promised you would at least try to like him, Ginny,” Hermione reminded as the pair grabbed two butterbeers from the refreshment table.

“I tried,” she groaned. “I tried four times on that dance floor. And now my toes are being made to suffer for my trials.”

Hermione laughed mid sip of her drink, causing the liquid to sputter down her chin and onto the front of her costume.

“I'm glad my plight is at least amusing to you,” Ginny said raising her bottle to her friend.

* * *

Draco was in a daze. He had drunken too much, to say the least. Blaise did say we were going to get pissed he mused to himself. The gang had divided the night between drinking, dancing, (discreetly) jinxing, and drinking.

“In retrospect,” he shouted to Blaise over the party's loud music, “maybe the drinking was a little overkill!”

Blaise nodded shakily as the crowd around him pulsated to the music. Crabbe grinned drunkenly near them as Goyle, much to Draco's amusement and horror, danced haphazardly to his left. Draco's head throbbed as his vision became distorted, blending all the multicolored costumes and masks around him into one rather sickening blur. Just as he thought he would surely lose it, the energetic music around him began to fade into a slow ballad.

The crowd around him relaxed as people began to couple up. Blaise, the slightly lesser drunk, clapped one arm around Draco and led him off the dance floor towards a remote part of the grounds.

“Blaise,” Draco said thoughtfully, “be a pal…and do a sobering charm on me.”

“God, Draco…you only had five shots,” Blaise scoffed. “You used to take eight, easy, before you even felt anything.” He shook his head disappointedly but performed the charm as requested.

“Sod off.”

“You're supposed to be sober now!” Blaise scoffed.

“I am,” Draco snickered. “And I am still telling you to sod off.”

“You were much nicer drunk,” his friend remarked with a sigh. “Do it on me, now. I'm too sloshed to do magic.”

“Yet you just did,” Draco drawled, half laughing. “And on me too. How lovely to know that you care so much for my wellbeing.”

Blaise laughed, his long slanty eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “Desperate times…and all that.”

* * *

Another slow ballad was just beginning as Draco reentered the party tent. Blaise had gone off with Crabbe for more drinks, while Goyle was no where to found.

Draco walked slowly around the dance floor, looking but not really seeing the couples intertwined before him. He was thinking lightly to himself that tonight, really, had been okay. He had forgotten how much fun Blaise was, how exciting their little adventures had always been.

Then with a pang he thought of what was waiting for him back at Malfoy Manner: the pampered and planned life he no longer cared for nor wanted. Draco sighed frustratedly. He turned to leave the tent altogether when a flame of red caught his eye.

It was a girl.

Her vivid red hair was swaying lightly as her partner twirled her. She was dressed as a fairy with an emerald green dress, white sash around her waits, and sheer wings sprouting from her back. Part of her face was covered with a sparkly green and silver mask, but even from a distance Draco saw that she was very pretty. The girl smiled and laughed happily as her partner, who Draco recognized as the Gryffindor Seamus Finnigan, dipped her. Her white skin contrasted with her glowing hair, making her pop out in the crowd of people that flanked her. She really was very pretty.

Draco's gaze was interrupted as Goyle joined him under the tent, liquor in hand.

“What're doing?” Goyle gruffed as he took a swig of his drink.

“Nothing, nothing,” Draco said absentmindedly, running his hands through his dark hair. A slight pause came between them before he spoke again. “Do you know who that girl is dancing with Seamus Finnigan?”

Goyle peered into the crowd on the dance floor. “Which one?”

“The one dancing with the bloke dressed as the Leprechaun,” replied Draco with ill-disguised impatience.

Goyle lifted the hooded tunic from over his face and looked harder into the crowd. “No,” he finally announced seconds later. “Bloody hot as hell under here, though.” He took another swig of his drink and turned to Draco. “Why?”

“No matter,” said Draco, quite unsure of what had made him even ask Goyle to begin with.

* * *

Ron Weasley's freckled face bore an angry expression as he pulled his wand from the pocket of his robes. He had seen Goyle reveal his face moments ago, and had a good idea of who the black-haired stranger next to him was. In his rush to get across the tent to the pair, he ran smack into his father.

“Ron!” Arthur Weasley said jovially, grasping his son with enthusiasm by the shoulders. “I'm glad you came!” He eyed his son's lack of a costume. “Dressed as a wizard, right?”

Ron moved to get around his father. “Not now, dad.”

“What's the matter? Why on earth are you so angry?” asked Mr. Weasley steadily, eyeing his red face and free wand.

“Draco Malfoy is here,” Ron gruffed. “I can't believe that two-faced bastard dared to gate-crash.”

Mr. Weasley turned and looked into the crowd where Ron was staring. “That bloke with the black hair?”

Ron nodded vigorously.

“Are you sure it's him?”

“I'd never forget an ugly git like him,” Ron replied scathingly, moving around his father again to try and flee. “I'm going to rip him a new-”

“Calm down, Ron,” his father said bracingly, standing ground in front of him. “There's no need for that. Let him alone. You didn't even notice him until now.”

Ron looked incredulous. “Let him alone? Malfoy?!” He laughed derisively. “Do you know what he did? What his lot is responsible for?”

“That's quite enough,” Mr. Weasley interjected.

“He's a bloody murderer!” Ron hissed. “And he shows up at your party, uninvited, and you want me to just go about my business, blissfully ignorant!”

“Lower your voice!” said Mr. Weasley sharply. “Now listen to me, Ron.” He stared at his son intently. “Even though you don't live here anymore, this is still my home. You will listen to me. Lucius Malfoy is bound as I am to keep the peace among our families.”

“I don't care about the Ministry. I won't tolerate this,” Ron said, his voice now deadly even. “This is beyond disrespect. He's making a bloody joke out of us all by being here.”

“You will tolerate him,” Mr. Weasley said calmly and clearly. “You will Ronald. Draco is not causing trouble, and I will not have you starting a riot among my guests. Mr. Weasley stared evenly into Ron's eyes, which were livid.

“After all, we've all had quite enough fighting to last a lifetime. It's time to let the past go, son,” he added gently. “Harry would never-”

“If you won't let me do anything about that idiot, then I'm leaving,” Ron interjected angrily. “Forgive me if I can't stay here rubbing elbows with the man responsible for my best friend's death.” With a cold look at his father, he turned and left.

* * *

He couldn't understand. He couldn't understand why he had kept staring at her on the dance floor. He couldn't understand why he kept imagining himself dancing with her, touching her gorgeous red hair as she twirled in his arms. He couldn't understand why his body was aching to take this strange girl into his arms and kiss her.

“Last song of the night!” rang out a voice from the stage.

Draco followed the girl with his eyes as she made her way off the dance floor and he made his own way towards her. The girl gave a start and turned as he grabbed her hand.

“M'lady,” Draco said with a kiss to her hand, still held firmly in his own. “Care to dance?”

Ginny started at him, her bright brown eyes peering intently through her green mask. She tried pulling her hand out of his grasp, but he held onto it tightly.

“I would like my hand back,” she said evenly.

“Dance with me and you will,” Draco replied a smirk.

Her eyes studied him, moving from his face to his body and back. She frowned slightly. “Do I know you?”

He shook his head, and pulled her back towards the dance floor. Ginny reluctantly allowed the stranger to do so, all the while trying to place his somewhat familiar face in her mind.

They began to dance, his arms gripping her firmly around the waist. His eyes stared at her through his own silver mask, making her slightly uncomfortable under their gaze.

He had striking eyes, she thought to herself. Gray and intense.

Her arms wound up around his neck. His dark hair fell into his face, and without thinking she moved to brush away the fringe from his eyes.

“Are you sure we've never met?” Ginny asked again, both annoyed and enticed by his boldness. “Did you go to Hogwarts?”

“I am a traveling Knight,” was all he said in reply.

Despite herself, the corners of Ginny's mouth turned up into smile, sending pleasurable little shockwaves down Draco's body in response. He grinned back at her, amazed at what something as small as a smile could do to him. He felt better than he had in a year. Hell, since before the war. He moved to pull her closer to him, but she resisted.

“You're awfully forward,” Ginny said coolly. “I thought knights were supposed to be chivalrous.”

Draco raised his eyebrows. “You sound like a Gryffindor.”

“Ah-ha,” Ginny said with a victorious smirk. “So you did go to Hogwarts.”

He stared at her as if he had never seen anything quite like her before. After a second passed, he tried again to draw her nearer. Much to his pleasure, this time she didn't resist. They were dancing very closely now. “Maybe,” he finally whispered into her ear.

The sensation made Ginny's stomach flutter as if wild doxies had taken flight inside her. She relaxed into his arms, weighing her head down onto his shoulder. How strange that such a random boy would have this effect on her. She felt his arms tighten around her, and her stomach gave another pleasurable squirm. She had had boyfriends before, but none that quite made her feel this way. She didn't even know him, and yet here she was. Dancing in the arms of a stranger. A stranger.

She drew a sharp intake of breath and pulled her face from his shoulder. Her brown eyes found his gray ones. “Who are you?” she demanded.

His hand reached up to touch her face. They were inches apart.

“Does it matter?” he challenged softly.

Ginny's answer faltered on her lips as he kissed her.

They broke apart seconds later when the song they had been dancing to ended. As the guests around them clapped and moved off the dance floor, Ginny removed her arms from their place around his neck and stepped back.

Neither of them noticed the magically amplified voice that rang out over them. “All guests are requested to please step out into the garden, where a special surprise lies waiting in the sky.”

She blinked up slowly at him, as if not quite sure of what to make of it all. She had a curious look in her eyes.

Draco's insides squirmed, both from the resounding pleasure of the kiss and fear at her reaction. Had he gone too far? He held his breath as she continued staring. After a few moments the look in her eye became suddenly bold. He was amazed as she stepped back towards him.

“I think you're a bad influence on me,” she said finally before kissing him again.

* * *

A soft but firm cough interrupted them. They both turned to see a slightly embarrassed looking Hermione near them. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said quickly, and then turned to specifically address Ginny. “Your mum asked me to find you. She wants a word.”

Hermione's appearance seemed to have shaken Ginny back to reality. She moved away from Draco. “I've got to go,” she said in an undertone, as if she was speaking to herself more than anyone else.

“Wait,” Draco said instantly. He moved to grab her hand again, but Ginny moved even further from his grasp. She shook her head slowly and turned away from him completely, taking off towards the exit.

“Who is her mother?” he asked Hermione urgently, who by now was looking Draco over very carefully.

“Molly Weasley,” she finally replied. She eyed him suspiciously. “Who are you?”

Draco never responded, for he had taken off after Ginny and out of the tent at Hermione's reply.

She was a Weasley.

“I should have known,” Draco muttered under his breath. All the Weasley's have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford he heard his father's voice echo in his head.

His eyes darted frantically around the crowd furthest from him. Finally he spotted her in the garden outside the Burrow with the rest of the guests.

She was standing against the very edge of the garden, next to a boy dressed as an alligator on one side and a short, plump faced woman with red hair (whom he assumed to be her mother) on the other. A loud bang resounded over the party, and everyone oohed appreciatively as multicolored Muggle fireworks began appearing in the sky.

“How extraordinary!” Draco heard a balding man next to Ginny's mother declare. “How those Muggles do it without magic…simply extraordinary!”

Without thinking, Draco took off to the opposite side of garden. He crept from behind the edge where Ginny was, through the thick, gnarled trees that lined the garden walls, until he was directly behind her.

Ginny gave only a small intake of breath as Draco grabbed her hand from between the trees.

“What do you want?” she hissed without turning around.

Draco kissed her hand, then turned it over and began placing kisses on her palm and up her inner forearm. Ginny closed her eyes for a moment at the sensation, and then glanced momentarily to her left and right. Deciding that her mother was sufficiently occupied with her father's appraisals on Muggles, and that Neville too was sufficiently enthralled with the fireworks themselves, Ginny slowly backed away into the niche amongst the trees where Draco stood.

“What are you playing at?” she asked him pointedly.

“What's your name?”

“What's yours?”

“I already know you're a Weasley. So come out with it.”

“Oh, yes, because you're asking so nicely.”

Draco opened his mouth to retort, then closed it. He only knew of one girl in the Weasley family, and he hadn't seen her since he left Hogwarts over a year ago.

“Are you Ginny Weasley?”

She stared at him fixedly, arms crossed in front of her.

“Are you going to answer me?”

“Maybe I would if you told me your name, or at least if you took off your mask!” she replied. She moved to pull away his silver mask with her hand.

Draco swiftly moved out of the way. “Couldn't if you tried,” he teased. “Fixing Charm.”

“Ginny!” someone called unmistakably from the other side if the trees. “Ginny!”

Draco smirked at her triumphantly, and she glared back at him as she moved to look through the tress. The fireworks were over, and the guests were pouring out of the garden to leave the party.

“It's Hermione,” Ginny said turning to leave. “I'd better go before she tries to use a Summoning Charm on me.”

“The Mudblood can wait,” Draco said absentmindedly as he moved to pull her back to him. Almost instantly he knew his mistake, for Ginny had wrenched away from his grip rather forcefully.

“How dare you,” she said, her face beginning to flush with anger. “How dare you call her that!” She had her wand on him instantly and he backed away, half-alarmed and half- amused, into the trunk of a tree.

“You tell me right now who you are,” she said quickly, her wand pointed warily at his chest, “or I swear I will hex you to New Guinea.”

Draco chortled. “New Guinea?”

Her response was to poke her wand into his chest rather painfully.

“Hey! Watch where you're sticking that thing!”

“You've got about five seconds,” she said, by now clearly agitated, “dear Good Sir Knight, to reveal yourself.”

“Ginny!” Hermione's voice rang out again. “Ginny! Where are you?”

“Draco!” a rough voice called through the trees. “Come on, let's go!”

Draco grimaced and cursed inwardly the day Gregory Goyle had ever become his friend.

Ginny's eyes widened. “Draco?” she repeated. “Draco Malfoy?” She gave a strained laugh half between incredulity and horror.

No no no Draco thought frantically. This is not how it's supposed to be. He moved to calm her. “Listen to me-”

“Stay back!” Ginny shouted moving her wand up over to Draco's face. “Finite!”

He felt the Fixing Charm lift as the mask slackened slightly around his face, its thin strings the only thing left concealing his identity. Having been unable to withdraw his own weapon until now, Draco held the mask securely into place with his left hand and finally drew his Hawthorn wand with his right.

Ginny stared at him determinedly. “Accio mask!”

“Protego!”

“Ginny!” Hermione shouted again, her voice much closer now than before. “Is that you shouting?”

“I don't want to fight you,” Draco said with unmistakable truth in his voice.

“Then tell me who you are,” Ginny replied through gritted teeth.

Over her shoulder Draco could see the figure of Hermione approaching them. “Later,” he said decisively, lowering his own wand in good faith. “Later, I promise.”

Hermione was now so close Ginny could hear the swishing the skirts of her costume. Her brown eyes sought Draco's gray ones. Then, not fully comprehending why, or how, she lowered her own wand and bade him to leave.

Ginny was only alone for a few seconds before Hermione finally joined her. “Where have you been?” she said sharply from behind her. “I've been running around here looking everywhere for you.”

“Sorry,” Ginny said automatically. She was still looking at the stop between the trees were Draco had disappeared.

“Your brothers are in a right state,” Hermione went on. “Apparently Ron told your dad that Draco Malfoy and his gang had gate-crashed.”

“Really.”

“And I think, Ginny, that that boy you were, well, kissing,” she said turning slightly pink, “was him.”

“Really.”

“I thought he looked familiar, but the black hair threw me off. But now I know it was really him.”

“Mhmm…”

“Are you hearing me?” Hermione said determinedly. “You were kissing Draco Malfoy.”

For the first time Ginny looked away from the trees and to her friend.

“I know,” she said simply. “I know.”

-->

A/N: I've decided to deviate slightly from the Romeo and Juliet story. It won't be until the next chapter that things will change ever so slightly. Don't worry, though…the main stuff will still be there. I'm just letting everyone know so I don't get called out on it later on.

Also, thanks to everyone for reading and leaving such nice comments. :o) It makes my day, let me tell you. On that kind note, I hate to tell you all that chapters from now on will be few and far between as I resume college this week. Dun dun dun. I have been having odd urges to write some one-shot fics though, so watch out for so random (short) stories. I actually wrote one a few weeks ago under the James/Lily ship called “As the Seventh Month Dies” which I am actually very pleased with. You can read it from the link on my author profile if you're interested.

This turned out to be a long author's note. How rude. Don't you hate it when authors talk about utterly useless things in their notes? Just get to the story, already, right? Right?! Oh.

* * *

Draco had remained hidden amongst the thick, gnarled trees that surrounded the Burrow's garden walls. He could hear Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle somewhere off to his left.

“Come on already,” Blaise said decisively. “This party is way past its prime.”

“But we haven't found Draco,” Crabbe piped up while viciously pulling off the three pointed hat of his jester costume. The hat's bells jingled merrily in response.

“Knowing him, I bet he slipped away earlier and went home to bed,” Blaise said scathingly.

“But I saw him barely twenty minutes ago,” Goyle gruffed.

“Either way, Draco's a big boy,” Blaise said with a roll of his eyes. “He can take care of himself. Besides, there's no point in looking for him if he doesn't want to be found.”

Crabbe and Goyle shrugged, but followed Blaise obediently as he trudged out from the trees and Disapparated.

Draco breathed a small sigh of relief. He did not want to have to explain to his friends why he felt so compelled to stay at the Burrow. He did not want to try to explain why the thought of leaving the place where Ginny was causing such a tight pang in his chest. He couldn't even explain it to himself at this point.

Maybe it was because he had felt so utterly dead for so long. It was like he had been drowning in the darkness, and then suddenly there was a breath of fresh air. Ginny had been the light that had made him feel, really feel, for the first time in a long time.

Still, a part of his head kept screaming at him that she was a Weasley, a poor blood-traitor. Yet at this moment, he didn't care. He couldn't leave the thing that had sparked such life and feeling in him.

* * *

“He's a Malfoy, Ginny,” Hermione said sternly

“I am well aware of that, Hermione, thanks.”

“He's Draco Malfoy,” Hermione said again.

They were up in Ginny's room, finally done cleaning up from the party and just then getting dressed for bed. Hermione had not dared mention Ginny's mysterious suitor downstairs in front of the rest of her family while they tidied up, yet she had kept shooting her disapproving looks from across the room. And now she kept saying Draco Malfoy as if it were a disgusting fungus rather than the name of a person.

“I wonder why he was here,” Hermione said carefully. “Lucius Malfoy is a clever sneak, parading around as if he was on our side all along. Draco always sort of just went along with his father.”

Ginny merely shrugged.

“How are you so calm about this?” Hermione asked while brushing her hair. “I think I'd be washing my mouth out with soap if I'd found out I'd been tricked into kissing Draco Malfoy.”

Ginny paused momentarily as she tied the strings of her pajama pants. “I'm not really sure,” she answered truthfully. “It was actually sort of nice.”

“Sort of nice?” her friend repeated incredulously. “Oh, you poor thing. He must have Confunded you.”

Ginny laughed.

“I'm serious!” Hermione said dropping her hairbrush and reaching for her wand. “Come here, let me see what else he did to you. He might have slipped a Love Potion into your drink.”

Ginny snorted. “Yeah, that was his whole objective for tonight: gate-crash and seduce that poor Weasley girl.” She pulled on her slippers and crossed the room. “You're nutters, really and truly nutters.”

“You say that, but I'm not the one who has just kissed Draco Mal-”

“Enough!” Ginny said throwing up her hands. “You're driving me crazy, Hermione, really.” She turned to leave the room.

“Where are you going?” Hermione called after her.

“To the garden,” she called back over her shoulder with a small grin, “so I can hear myself think without you constantly reminding me of who I kissed tonight.”

The truth was, Ginny thought as she quietly walked down the narrow staircase of the Burrow, she wanted to be alone precisely because she wanted to think about who she had kissed that night. She had been in a slight daze ever since she had made it back to the Burrow, for her mind had been attempting idly to wrap her head around the fact that Hermione had constantly been reminding her of: she had kissed Draco Malfoy.

Yet the name carried no repulsive sound in her mind as it did when Hermione said it aloud. Quite the opposite, it came as a soft, tender, sound that filled Ginny with an inexplicable light-heartedness and hope.

Hope? Ginny wondered. What kind of alternate universe had she stumbled into where Draco Malfoy had given her hope?

It was well past midnight as Ginny made her way into the garden of the Burrow. She had found Crookshanks along the way and he scampered lightly in front of her, pausing every so often to examine an empty gnome hole here or there.

Ginny looked up into the waning crescent moon and sighed. There was no question in her mind as to what would happen now: she would not see Draco again. Whatever had happened tonight had probably been a pathetic joke or fluke at best.

“He probably doesn't even care,” she murmured as she drew her cloak in closer around herself.

The large ginger cat at her ankles looked up at her, his large orange eyes shining incandescently in the moonlight.

“Draco Malfoy,” Ginny answered, not feeling at all odd at the fact that she was speaking to a cat. She often spoke to Crookshanks or Pigwidgeon as if they were people.

“But why, why does it have to be him?” she said twisting strands of her long red hair. “It could have been anyone else but a bloody Malfoy, but no. I have to fall for the one and only Malfoy heir.”

“Do you always talk to your animals, or is this a special occasion?” a voice said though the trees.

Crookshanks hissed and Ginny pulled her wand instantly.

“Calm down, it's only me,” Draco said with arms raised in mock surrender.

Ginny was shocked. “How dare you!”

“How dare I what?” he replied with an eyebrow raised.

Her eyes flashed. Even though she was very much thoroughly annoyed, she felt an undeniable exhilaration at seeing him again. “How dare you lurk in the darkness like a common criminal and listen to my thoughts!”

“Listen to you talking to your cat, more like it,” he smirked.

His hair was back to its normal white-blond, and now there was not mistaking it: Ginny's knight-in-shining-armor was indeed the infamous Draco Malfoy. He was slightly taller than she had remembered him, and his shoulders seemed broader than before. Even his face was slightly different, she mused, but then again he had always been attractive.

She shook her head. “Why are you here?” Ginny finally asked him after forcefully pushing the lingering thoughts of his attractiveness out of her consciousness.

“To see you of course,” he responded unabashedly. “But you'd better get out of the open, unless you want your family catching us.”

“Us?” Ginny repeated firmly. “There is no us, Malfoy. There is a you and there is a me, but there is certainly no us.”

Draco ignored her comment and instead motioned for her to join him amongst the dark trees.

“You have got to be kidding,” she said to him dryly.

Draco sighed. “I'll just have to meet you out in the open, then.”

When he began clamoring out of the gnarled trees toward her, Ginny rushed forward to stop him. “Don't be stupid!” she hissed at him pushing him backwards into the darkness. “If they see you they'll murder you!”

Draco grinned, happy that she was now close to him again. “It would be worth it,” he murmured as his face moved closer to hers.

Ginny stood firm as he leaned into her, as she found herself torn between the urge to either hit or kiss Draco. She resisted only for a moment when he finally kissed her, whimpering slightly before wrapping her arms around his neck and finally giving into the kiss. It was a sound that made Draco's chest purr with pleasure, and he moved closer to deepen the connection.

“Wait,” Ginny gasped finally pulling away from him. “This is not happening again.”

“And why not?” Draco challenged. “Don't tell me that you don't feel it.”

“Because you're a bloody Malfoy, that's why not!” Ginny practically screamed, shaking herself out of his grip. “Your father was a Death Eater! He helped murder innocent people while serving Voldemort!”

Draco's eyes became hard. “That's not fair,” he said swiftly. “I wasn't responsible for any of that!”

“But you are your father, Malfoy! You are!”

Draco turned away from her and walked a little away.

“I don't know what happened tonight,” Ginny began again, “and I am sure that this was all a very amusing joke to you and your stupid friends, but I am done.” She walked over to where he was now leaning against a tree. “You're a very cruel person,” she said in an undertone, “and I don't ever want to see you again.” She had already turned away from him to go back inside when she heard him speak.

“I hate being a Malfoy,” he said quietly. The statement seemed to cut through the silence between them as effectively as a knife.

Despite herself, Ginny turned around to him. “What?” she asked. Her bold tone sounded oddly divergent against Draco's near inaudible one. “What did you just say?”

“I hate being a Malfoy,” he repeated. He was still not looking at her, and instead was gazing off into the night sky. “It has become increasingly clear to me that the life I am living is not mine.” He paused for a moment, sounding utterly defeated. “I will never be known as anything but Lucius Malfoy's son, the Malfoy heir.”

“But isn't that what you want?” Ginny said pointedly.

“Who would want that?” Draco said harshly. “Be in a family where you're brainwashed into thinking that everyone but you is dirt? Be in a family that cares only about preserving their stupid name and so called honor. My parents don't give a damn about me or what I want.”

Ginny was at a lost for words. If this was a trick, Draco was surely committing to the damn thing.

“I wish I was born as anything but a Malfoy,” Draco said quickly, almost savagely Ginny thought. “Even being a Muggle would have been preferable.” He paused to regain his composure. “As long as I am a Malfoy,” he continued matter-of-factly, “everywhere and anywhere I go there will be whispers about my father and his allegiance to the Dark Lord.”

Ginny stood rooted to the ground, her mouth clenched tight in consideration, her eyes focused intently on Draco's back. Was she really hearing this? The hope crept up inside her again.

“Look at me,” she said finally. “Turn and look at me.”

He did. His eyes seemed sullen, his face absent of its usual scowl or wayward grin.

“Why are you really here?” she asked him carefully.

“To see you,” he said steadily. “I didn't lie to you before.”

“You'll have to forgive me for questioning your honesty,” Ginny said shrewdly, “but the Draco Malfoy I knew hexed first years in the corridors for asking the way to the Astronomy Tower.”

Draco's eyes flashed. “I came here to see you, Ginny,” he said clearly annoyed, “and if you can't accept the fact that I might not think that all Half-bloods and Muggleborns deserve to be exterminated, then--”

“You called me Ginny,” she said cutting across him.

“Yes,” Draco sighed tiredly, rubbing his right temple with his hand. “I am fairly sure that is your name.”

“You've never used it before,” Ginny said almost accusingly.

“I've also generally never kissed you before,” he responded dryly. “You're more concerned with the fact that I've called you by your proper name?”

Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Even though Draco was several inches taller than her and her wand was no longer drawn, Ginny's intense gaze made him wary. “What did you mean, earlier?”

“Don't tell me that you don't feel it,” Draco said straight away. “I felt something when we kissed, and I didn't even know who you were.” He stepped closer to her.

“You know now,” she responded, brown eyes still locked on him.

“And I don't care that you're a Weasley,” Draco said ardently, pulling her close to him. “I don't care who you are--”

“Let me go, Malfoy,” Ginny said harshly, pushing at his chest.

“Will you just listen to me,” Draco responded nastily trying to hold her firm in his arms.

“I don't care that you're a Weasley or that our families hate one another. All I care about is the fact that when I'm with you, my life doesn't seem so unbelievably bleak.”

Ginny's insides gave an odd squirm. “What are you saying?” she said, in what she hoped was an even tone.

The words tumbled out of his mouth before Draco even knew they were there. “I think I'm in love you, Ginny Weasley,” he said determinedly, the corners of his lips turning up into a wicked grin moments later. “Do you think I'd come here and make a complete arse of myself for anything less?”

She blinked. Several questions zoomed into her head at once.

Was this really happening?

Yes, a little voice responded.

No, was this seriously happening?

Again, yes.

Did Draco Malfoy just say what I think he said?

Indeed he did.

His gray eyes looked at her intently, seeming to be searching her very soul. She thought of her mother, whose heart was so settled on her marrying Neville…her father, Lucius Malfoy's personal nemesis…her brothers, who would no doubt be horrified beyond comprehension…

The hope was too strong. She saw it reflected in Draco eyes too…eager, intense, and as all-encompassing as her own. He wanted this. And she knew, despite the fact that the world would be against it, that she wanted it too. She wanted this.

Ginny gave him a small grin. Knowing that he had caught her meaning, she reached up and pulled him down into a deep, slow kiss.

“I was afraid, so afraid it was all a trick,” Ginny said finally. She shook her head against his chest. “I'm still afraid. Swear to me that this is real.”

“I swear it is,” he said resolutely, pulling her from his chest so he could look into her eyes. “I've never been more sure about anything in my life.”

“But what about our families? When they find out that we're together we'll have another war on our hands.”

“I could care less what my family thinks,” Draco said scathingly. “Let them disown me, then they'll be screwed. The Malfoy line dies with me.”

Just then Crookshanks appeared. They both watched as the cat licked his lips and gave them a minute meow before taking off back towards the house where Hermione had suddenly appeared.

“Shit,” Ginny said immediately.

Draco looked at her rather bemusedly. “Is Granger your baby-sitter or something?” he teased.

Ginny whacked him lightly on the arm. “She's probably come out looking for Crookshanks.”

“Good,” Draco drawled as he moved in to kiss her again.

“No, Malfoy, not good,” she countered turning her cheek to him. “I am currently lurking in these trees with you instead of in the garden, where I told her I was going to be.”

Hermione gathered Crookshanks in her arms and scanned the garden, her brow furrowed. She lingered a few moments before disappearing back into the Burrow.

Ginny felt relieved, but not entirely so. “I'd better go before she figures out I'm not in my room.”

“What time tomorrow?”

“What?”

“What time should I come back tomorrow?”

“You can't come back here,” Ginny said sternly. “Mum's making me have tea tomorrow with Neville, and Hermione is already suspicious of us.”

Draco's faced skewed up unpleasantly. “Longbottom?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “It's a long and inherently ridiculous story. Suffice it to say that my mum is trying to play matchmaker.”

Draco raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

“Extremely unsuccessfully though, I might add. You see, I sort of like this other bloke,” she said to him seriously, “so poor Neville doesn't stand a chance.”

Draco had a fleeting image of Pansy, his own betrothed, and his face suddenly reflected his troubled mind.

Ginny took notice immediately. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” Draco said dismissively. “It's a long and inherently ridiculous story that I won't bother you with.”

When Ginny open her mouth to protest, he pulled her hard against him, into another kiss, this one far more breathless and urgent than the last. They parted a moment later, gasping for air, and Ginny stepped back quickly, looking determined.

“Nine o'clock,” she said. “I'll send word to you by nine o'clock tomorrow so we can meet.”

-->

A towering mill chimney seemed to hover over Draco as he hurried up Spinner's End. He had made up his mind only an hour ago: he and Ginny must wed. Despite the euphoric feelings his newfound love for Ginny produced, Draco knew deep down that Ginny was right: when their families found out about their love, another war was soon to follow. Ginny's parents were nowhere near as sadistic as his own, yet Draco recognized that even they would shield Ginny from Draco the moment they discovered that their precious only daughter was in love with the son of a Death Eater.

Draco himself was scheduled to marry Pansy Parkinson at the end of the month. A refusal to Lucius and Narcissa was not an option. They would imperio him and force him down the aisle if need be. His only saving grace was marrying Ginny. The marriage would nullify the betrothal to Pansy and bind Draco and Ginny together forever. Draco's family might disown him, but even they could not break the magical binds of marriage. However it turned out, Draco and Ginny would be together. For Draco that was all that mattered.

He stopped at the very last house on the street, a dark and sad looking structure. He rapped on the door quickly three times. Moments later a dim light appeared through the curtains in a downstairs room. He heard movement behind the door and it opened a crack.

“Severus?” Draco said in hushed tones. “Is that you?”

The door opened a little wider. A man with a sallow face and long black hair stared out at him. “Draco?”

“Yes, sir” Draco responded immediately. “I'm sorry to bother you so early, but I need to speak to you. I need your help.”

“Not at all,” Snape replied opening the door and ushering him inside. “I was awake tending to a potion that must be monitored every hour. Although I am curious as to what the elusive Mr. Malfoy could ask of me. You stopped coming to your private lessons weeks ago.”

“I am sorry,” Draco replied earnestly as the pair entered the sitting room. “I've had a lot on my mind.”

“Of course.” Snape's thin mouth curled into a slightly mocking smile. “Your pending nuptials.”

“I'm not marrying Pansy,” Draco responded fervently.

Snape raised an eyebrow. “Surprising.”

“Come on, Professor, the marriage is a joke. I don't care for Pansy and I never will,” Draco said taking a seat.

“I don't doubt you,” Snape replied casually sitting across from him. “But I wonder what you're father thinks of this revelation.”

“I haven't told him,” Draco said evenly.

“Ah,” Snape said. “This is why you have come to me. You ask for assistance with your father.”

Draco shifted uncomfortably. “Not exactly.”

“Oh?”

“Listen, everything I am about to tell you is ridiculous and not plausible. Two hours ago I had accepted my fate as the Malfoy heir. I'd given up on a life of my own. Now that's all changed; I've fallen in love.”

“I'm intrigued, Draco,” Snape said in a surprised tone and turning away from him towards the simmering potion behind him. “I was under the impression that you cared for nothing anymore.”

Draco knew he must be completely honest with Snape. “I'm in love with Ginny Weasley. And she loves me.”

Much to Draco's surprise, Snape said nothing.

“She's brought me back to life again. I can't afford to lose her on any account.”

Snape finally turned and met him with a piercing gaze. “Do you realize the impossibility of what you are saying?” he said steadily. “Lucius would rather see you dead than with a Weasley.”

“Don't you think I know that?!” Draco said angrily. “I don't have time to explain it all to you, Severus, I hardly know myself how or why this is happening. All I am sure of is that Ginny and I love one another and I am not giving her up.”

“What about the prejudices of your family, Draco? Of her family?” Snape said with a raised voice. “Those feelings have been cultivated for generations and will not merely disappear overnight. Your school boy crush will not withstand their veteran hate.”

“I love her, Severus. And she loves me.” Draco said earnestly. “I did not come here to beg for your approval, only your help,” he finished evenly.

Snape narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “And what could you ask of me?”

Draco met Snape's weathering gaze with his own determined look. “Only a marriage by Unbreakable Vow can help us now.”

Snape's eyes hardened. “You love her that much? You'd risk your life for her?”

“A life without her wouldn't be worth living,” Draco replied heavily. “She's given me a hope that I didn't know was there. I am doing this with or without your help, Severus, although without your help it would take longer and be even more dangerous.”

“Do not ask me,” Snape said looking away.

“Please Severus. I trust you above anyone. Will you marry us and be our Bonder?”

Snape closed his eyes at the request. It was an impossible dream to be sure, but if Draco was determined to go through with the marriage, he must help. Yet his own heart was heavy with the request. Surely it was the only way to save Draco from his betrothal and show both the Malfoy's and the Weasley's that the couple was serious. Snape had little hope for the Malfoy's, but perhaps the Weasley's would even come to accept Draco in time. Draco's feelings for Ginny must be sincere, he thought, to risk the certain expulsion from the Malfoy family. If their love was genuine, the marriage would be the right thing to do. The marriage between two notoriously warring families could arguably even unite the Wizarding world. Perhaps it was the only way.

“Send Ginny word to meet here this evening,” Snape said finally. “I shall do as you have asked me, Draco.”

O o O o O

True to her word, Ginny had sent an owl to Draco by 9 that morning. They were to meet at a Muggle restaurant called Nicolson's Cafe in London late that afternoon. When Draco arrived Ginny was already there. She was still as beautiful as Draco remembered and his heart soared like he never knew possible when she smiled at him. As with Snape, Draco knew his best bet was to be completely honest with Ginny: he had to tell her about Pansy.

“Why didn't you tell me last night?” Ginny asked him. Her eyes were angry but her tone was serious.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you,” Draco said meeting her eyes. “I don't love her. I don't think I ever have. It was an arranged couple, that's all.” There was an unmistakable truth in his voice.

“But how are we supposed to deal with a magical betrothal?” she asked. “They can't be broken easily, especially if Pansy and your parents are still supporting it. We'd have to get-”

“-married,” Draco finished for her. “Under an Unbreakable Vow.”

Ginny felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. It was one thing to meet with Draco in secret, but to actually marry him? “I don't know,” she began slowly. “Can't you just talk to your parents?”

“They'd rather see me dead than marry you, Ginny,” he said remembering Snape's words. “It's harsh, but it's true. You don't understand; you don't get choices with them if what you want is outside their Pure-Blood agenda.”

“Hey, I know about family pressure,” Ginny reminded him. “My mum is pushing for me to marry Neville, remember?”

“But they wouldn't disown you if you didn't, right?” Draco said with an odd half grin. “I'm screwed.”

Ginny took his hand from across the table. “We can figure it out,” she said reassuringly. She took a deep breath. “I love you Draco, and no pug-faced Pansy Parkinson is going to change that.”

There. She had said it. She had been thinking and feeling it ever since she kissed him last night on the dance floor. Now it was out there and he could do with it what he wanted.

Draco blinked and let go of her hand. In an instant he had pulled something from his inner coat pocket. A small blue velvet box appeared on the table between them. Without waiting for him to say a word, Ginny opened the box. A sparkling emerald-cut diamond ring lay in the blue velvet lining. There passed a moment between Draco and Ginny where everything became understood.

Their love was real, and it was in danger. Their families would not accept them. Their friends would not accept them. If they were found, they would be torn away from one another in another bloody feud. His father, his friends, her brothers…it would all lead to no good. It would never end. They could never have a future together. Their love was real, and it was in danger.

Ginny was a Gryffindor. She trusted her instincts, her courage, and her gut. It had never steered her wrong before, and right now every fiber of her being was telling her to trust in Draco. Against all odds they had fallen in love. She realized in this moment that this was a love beyond logic, beyond reason. If she said no they would part forever, forever living a half-life without one another. If she said yes the world would crumble around them.

“But we'd have each other”, she said aloud gazing at Draco's intense gray eyes.

“We'd have each other” he reaffirmed with a grin. “Marry me?”

The look in her eyes became suddenly bold. “Yes,” she said simply. “A thousand times yes.”

O o O o O

They arrived at Spinner's End that evening hand in hand. Snape ushered them into his gloomy home quietly.

“I have heard that Ronald Weasley has left word at Malfoy Manor for you,” Snape whispered to Draco as Ginny passed first into the sitting room. “He sends an official challenge to duel you.”

Draco stopped in his tracks.“Do you think he knows about me and Ginny?” he asked quietly. “Is that why he wants to duel?”

“I doubt it. The discovery of your affair would make the Daily Prophet headlines. I suspect another cause.”

“I can't worry about that now,” Draco said stiffly. He crossed to room to where Ginny was and took her hand. “Ginny said yes and we are here to get married under the Unbreakable Vow.”

“Very well. I pray that your marriage can undo some of the damage that the brawls between your families have caused,” Snape said removing his wand. “The Dark Lord did well in squashing the joy and hope from the Wizarding world. Perhaps this can bring a new chapter of rebirth for us all.”

-->

It was late in the evening and The Three Broomsticks was crowded as usual. Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle sat lazily nursing their drinks at a table near the window.

“Where the devil is Draco?” Blaise said taking a swig of his Firewhisky. They had spent the better part of the day in Hogsmeade waiting for Draco to show his face.

“He wasn't at Malfoy Manor, I checked there earlier,” Goyle gruffed.

“Can we go now?” Crabbe said. “It's hot in here and I'm bored.”

“Aye,” replied Blaise taking a final swig. He tossed three sickles onto the table and rose to leave. Crabbe and Goyle followed suit. The crowded bar seemed to part for them as they headed towards the door. Many eyed them warily as they walked past.

Once outside, a cold wind swept the trio. The evening sky was bruised with purples and reds from the setting sun. Blaise turned up his collar and led them down the street.

“Oi, here comes a Weasley” Crabbe said suddenly.

Blaise had spotted the red haired man too heading towards them. He wasn't looking for a fight today. He hadn't seen Draco since the night of the party and he was eager sort out what had happened. Still, he readied his wand.

Ron Weasley was dressed in a dark cloak and wore a serious expression. Hi looming height and stern look made him a formidable figure. He approached the group with eyes narrowed. “Zabini, a word,” he said curtly.

Blaise smirked. “Only a word? I heard you were looking for more than a word, Weasley.”

“I'm looking for Draco Malfoy.”

“Why, have you lost him again?”

Crabbe and Goyle guffawed.

“Cut the crap,” Ron said tersely. He drew his wand. “I want Malfoy.”

Crabbe and Goyle moved to respond, but Blaise held them back with a pointed glance.

“There's no need for that. Draco's obviously not here,” Blaise replied casually. “I know you mean to duel with him, but I'll happily take up your challenge against him.” He drew his own wand now. “I'm pretty fond of killing Blood-traitors.”

“Stop this, both of you!” Hermione hissed as she appeared in the street with them. She was in a traveling cloak and looked disheveled. She rushed to Ron's side. “Leave it, Ron,” she warned evenly. “You're not allowed to fight.”

“I won't leave it,” he spat back at her, wand still raised. “I don't care about the law. This is bigger than that.”

By now people in the street had begun to take notice of the standoff. Hermione eyed them warily. “Withdraw then,” she whispered eagerly to him. “Withdraw to some private place and have a proper one on one duel. Don't do it like this!”

“There's no need,” Ron said briskly. A dark grin suddenly appeared on his face. “Here comes my man.”

Blaise turned over his shoulder. Draco had arrived in Hogsmeade and made a beeline towards Blaise.

“Draco Malfoy,” Ron said loudly, catching his attention. “You villainous bastard.”

Draco stopped suddenly. He eyed Ron and then Blaise.

“Your wrongs against me will be avenged today,” Ron said dangerously. “I am going to end the Malfoy line forever,” he continued. He drew his wand and glared at Draco. “I duel to kill.”

There was no way out of it now, Blaise thought. Although no words passed between then, Blaise knew that Draco must understand that too. The challenged had been issued. It must be answered.

“I will back you,” Blaise said him in an undertone.

Draco dismissed this with a shake of the head. He walked towards Ron's outstretched wand but did not produce his own. Blaise tensed. Ron's brow furrowed slightly.

“Ron,” Draco said steadily, “You will not and cannot understand my motivation for this moment, but I swear to you will one day.”

“What are you mumbling about, Malfoy?” he snapped back angrily. “Draw your wand.”

Draco could not help but see bits of Ginny in Ron's tense face. They had the same shock of red hair, the same smattering of freckles. She was her beloved brother, her closest brother. He was his brother now too.

“I refuse your challenge,” Draco said firmly. “I am not your enemy.”

Ron's face did little to mask his confusion. He shook his head angrily. “I don't accept your words, you Slytherin coward. Draw your wand!”

Draco made a motion with his arm towards Ron.

Finally, Blaise thought, he's drawing his wand. He realized only a second later that he was dead wrong.

Ron slapped away the hand Draco had extended. Draco's only reaction to the blow was to turn around yet again. With a determined glance at Blaise, he began walking away.

“Turn and draw, you coward!” Ron spat.

In a flash, Ron's anger at Draco's denial boiled over. Hermione screamed a panicked “No Ron!” as Ron tackled Draco to the ground from behind. Ron landed a few blows before Draco scrambled from under him and backed away again.

“I will not fight you!” Draco roared back wiping away the blood that was now trickling from his mouth. He drew his wand finally from his pocket, only to throw it aside as he turned away again.

Hermione stepped in and grabbed Ron's arm tightly. “You must leave it alone. He's disarmed,” she pleaded.

“I don't need a wand to kill him,” Ron spat. He threw his own wand to the ground and ran again towards Draco. The two men fell to the cobblestone street hard and with a sickening thud. Ron began striking Draco again before Crabbe and Goyle finally pulled him away.

“What the hell are you thinking?!” Blaise shouted while pulling Draco up from the ground. He was bleeding profusely now from a fresh gash on his cheek.

“I can't fight him,” Draco said again after spitting out a mouthful of blood. His head was spinning.

“I know you can't fight him, he's beating the piss out of you!” Blaise countered angrily.

“Stupefy!”

“Protego!”

“Sectumsempra!”

Draco looked away from Blaise and saw that Crabbe and Goyle had drawn their wands against Ron and Hermione now. “No, let them alone!” he shouted over to them, pushing Blaise aside. “Put your wands down!” Draco took off unsteadily towards them.

“You don't have a wand, idiot!” Blaise shouted after him.

Draco ran towards the group, arms outstretched in an attempt to break up the fighting.

Ron seized his chance and raised his wand against Draco. Blaise stepped in front of the unarmed Draco and fired back. Their spells collided mid air. A bright light and sinister crackle ensued, causing confusion all around. Blinking against the brightness, Blaise raised his wand and shot off again towards Ron.

“No!” Draco shouted, rushing towards Blaise.

In a moment it was over. Draco had put himself between Ron and Blaise, physically blocking the latter's line of sight. Blaise struggled against Draco towards Ron.

“Sectumsempra!”

A small flash of white light zoomed towards the entwined pair, hitting Blaise square in the upper chest. A deep slash appeared almost instantly.

Horrified, Draco released Blaise who staggered back, looking down at his already blood wet shirt. He touched the wound torpidly.

Draco started after him immediately. “Blaise, I-”

“It's just a scratch,” Blaise said dazedly.

“We've got to get you help,” Draco said hurriedly grabbing for his arm. “We've got to-”

“It's just a scratch!” Blaise said louder. He threw Draco off and backed away, half laughing. He grabbed at his chest again, finally pausing to look down at his own blood soaked hand. He staggered back and fell to the floor.

Draco was at his side in a moment, but again Blaise pushed him away. He looked up at Draco angrily. “Fuck you!” he bellowed. “Why did you come between us! I was hit because of you!”

Draco was at a loss for words. “I thought it for the best,” he finally said painfully, reaching out to Blaise again as the blood continued to flow from him. “I'm sorry.”

The color was draining from Blaise's face now. “That damn Weasley,” he said. “Why the hell did you come between us?”

Draco was holding onto him, desperate to try and stop the blood from flowing. “I thought it for the best,” Draco repeated numbly.

“Fuck you both,” Blaise said carefully, eyes closing. He was surrounded by a pool of blood now.

“No!” Draco shouted, shaking him violently. “Blaise!” He felt his friend's labored breathing slow dangerously and finally cease. Blaise opened his eyes once more, but his stare was blank.

Draco held Blaise, his own body shaking fiercely from the shock. He was crying now and clinging to Blaise, desperately willing him to wake. He had tried to prevent the fighting. He had tried.

Blaise's last words to him had been filled with hurt, anger, and betrayal. He died thinking that Draco had forsaken him. Draco sat there with Blaise for a moment, frozen and filled with an utterly immobilizing sense of anguish and regret.

Finally Draco looked up and saw Crabbe and Goyle nearby, dazed and frozen too. Hermione had disappeared and Ron had taken off running. He could see him a little ways down the street.

Draco rose, his shirt stained through with Blaise's blood. Something inside of him broke. He collected his own discarded wand from the ground and took off after Ron in a feverish sprint.

O o O o O

“Challenge me again!” Draco said, finally having caught up to Ron in an alleyway.

“I see you've finally come around,” Ron said breathing heavily.

“You've gone too far,” he spat back, half crying still. “You don't get to live when Blaise is lying dead on a street!” Unadulterated rage pulsed through Draco as never before, fueling him.

Looking defiant, Ron raised his wand against Draco. “I'd be happy to send you along with him!”

“Either you, or I, or both of us will go with him!” Draco roared. “Avada Kedavra!”

Ron dove to avoid the curse and fired back. They exchanged blows for a few moments. Curses danced around the two men, lighting up the alley in blinding green light. A trash bin panged loudly after it was hit by an errant spell.

Draco was forced to drop to the ground to avoid a particularly well placed move. Ron smirked and advanced quickly towards him, wand point squarely at this chest. The rage and hatred coursed through Draco like adrenaline. Ron was too close now for a miss. This was his chance.

“Avada Kedavra!” Draco screamed from the floor, stopping Ron in his tracks. The rushing sound of the curse loomed over them as Ron, bathed in the bright green light, fell hard backwards onto the ground. His eyes were still open.

A beat passed.

Draco's wand fell from his grip. There was a hollow pling as it hit the pavement below him and rolled a little aways. He dropped to his knees and began to sob. He thought Ron's death would bring some sort of vigilante justice to the world - it hadn't.

The anger that had fueled his violence was drained from him. All he was left with was an overwhelming sense of despair. He had already lost Blaise -- now he would lose Ginny as quickly as he had found her.

“I am fortune's fool,” he whispered finally.

O o O o O

“I want the absolute truth,” Eirena Milnore began carefully. “How did this all begin?”

A small group had assembled in her office. Crabbe and Goyle sat close together, robes still singed and disheveled. Behind them silently stood Lucius Malfoy, looking grave. On the other side of the room sat Hermione, trails from her tears still fresh on her face.

“Ms. Granger, what happened?” Eirena asked again.

Hermione wiped her eyes and sat up straight in her chair. “It was Ron,” she said miserably. “He challenged Draco, but he refused to fight. Blaise stepped in and they quarreled instead.” She took a breath. “Draco came between them to try and stop them…Ron hit Blaise over Draco's shoulder.”

The room was silent.

“And?” Eirena prompted.

“When I left…he was bleeding on the street,” Hermione said, looking down. “Ron took off and I left to try and find help.” She looked up at Eriena unhappily. “By the time I came back with the Healer, Blaise was dead.”

Eirena Milnore was watching Hermione very closely. “And that was the last time you saw Ronald Weasley alive?” she asked carefully.

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. “Yes,” she choked out after a moment. “He…he was trying to get away.”

Eirena nodded. “Thank you Ms. Granger.” She turned to Goyle and Crabbe next. “Did you see Draco Malfoy pursue Ronald Weasley?”

“Aye,” Crabbe said gruffly after a moment. “Draco took off after Weasley. But we ain't seen him kill no one.”

A stifled sob arose from the corner near Hermione where Arthur and Molly Weasley sat.

“He's loyal to the Malfoys,” Molly choked. “He's lying!”

“We ain't seen him kill no one!” Crabbe repeated louder.

“Enough!” Eirena Milnore said firmly. “Listen, all of you. There is no speculation on this point: Draco Malfoy did indeed kill Ronald Weasley.”

“There is hardly-” Lucius began.

“Mr. Malfoy,” she interjected, “We discovered your son's wand near the body,” she said curtly. “Prior Incantato revealed that he had indeed used the Killing Curse against Ronald Weasley.”

Lucius blinked and stood silently and Molly began to sob anew. Arthur rubbed her shoulders numbly as tears fell down his own face.

“I demand justice,” Arthur said gravely. “Draco killed my son. He should be dead too.”

“Now now, see here. Draco's actions only hastened justice for Blaise's death,” Lucius countered. “Blaise was Draco's best friend. Draco only-”

“He murdered my boy!” Molly yelled. “My child! Where is the law?”

“Silence!” Eirena said resolutely. “Draco killed Ronald, Ronald killed Blaise. Tell me, who should now pay the price for Blaise Zabini's life?” She rose from her seat, clearly agitated. “I am setting an example of you all,” she said firmly. “I have decided that Draco Malfoy will not be executed nor sent to Azkaban.”

The Weasleys and Hermione began to shout in outrage, but Eirena Milnore raised her hand to quiet them. “Draco Malfoy is henceforth banished,” she said sternly. “His wand will be destroyed. He is exiled from the Wizarding World.”

Lucius stared at her incredulously. “Surely there must be a trial, evidence must be presented-”

“I have been authorized by the Minister of Magic to carry out this judgment, Mr. Malfoy. You know as well as I do that in extreme circumstances, criminals can be sentenced without trial. This is an extreme circumstance if I ever saw one. ”

Lucius was horrified. No son of his was going to be reduced to a Squib. “Surely something can be done to remedy this. My family has -”

“Your pleading and excuses will fall on deaf ears, sir,” she said curtly staring at him pointedly in the eye. “By morning, this will be headline news in The Daily Prophet. This is not something you can try to sweep under the rug, Mr. Malfoy,” she finished coldly. “There have been two murders here. I cannot in good conscious pardon Draco for his part in this.”

The room was still. Crabbe and Goyle looked sickened. Molly was still crying but had been shocked into silence. Arthur alone looked somewhat mollified. Hermione was watching Lucius very carefully, who was struggling to mask his severe displeasure.

Eirena Milnore sat down and rubbed her eyes tiredly. “Tell your son to leave the city immediately,” she said finally to Lucius. “If he is found, he will be killed.”

O o O o O

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“Ron is dead.”

It had started as suddenly and ceaselessly as a dream. Hermione had arrived earlier that night with the harrowing story of her brother's death.

Her parents were upstairs now, alone in their bedroom. They had gone to identify Ron's body and came home looking like a piece of themselves had died too. Her mother had not stopped crying for her son and had been given a potion for a dreamless sleep.

Hermione had stayed up talking with Ginny for a while. She had a tired and haunted look about her. She ultimately decided to go stay at her parent's home to be alone for the night.

Ginny was alone now too. Looking up at the night sky from her own bedroom window, she cried for her brother. She had always shared a special bond with Ron as the youngest members of the family. They had often fought (as siblings do), but she could not fathom that in one night, he could simply be gone. Gone. Her tears blurred her vision and she angrily wiped them away.

Thoughts of betrayal flickered inside her like a live flame. How could she even begin to comprehend what had happened on the streets of Hogsmeade?

Her brother was dead because of Draco Malfoy.

Her husband.

She had married the enemy and seemingly paid the price for it; Draco had finally emerged as the villain she had always thought he was. A snake in the grass. His love was nothing and meant nothing.

But it doesn't make sense she thought to herself.

They had sworn by Unbreakable Vow to love, honor, and be faithful to one another. Why would Draco trick her into a marriage? They were bonded together forever now. If he had broken his vows in any way, he would be dead today too.

Ginny's head reeled for a moment. From what Hermione had described, Draco had tried dearly to avoid a conflict. It was very clear that Ron would have killed Draco if he could have. From Hermione's words, it sounded like Ron indeed almost had. The hard truth was this: Draco had killed Ron because Ron would have killed Draco.

Ginny rubbed her eyes tiredly.

In truth, Ron had died a long time ago. He had died right along with Harry. Ron was never the same after his best friend's death. He had become a different and much darker person.

Still, her heart was broken for her brother. Ginny wished desperately that things could have been different for him. Her family was bleeding from his loss. She wasn't sure how or when she could ever bear to tell them the truth about her marriage to Draco now.

Although she felt incredibly guilty, Ginny was immensely happy that Draco was alive. She knew that there was a very real possibility that she could have lost both a brother and a husband tonight.

She needed to see him. She needed to see that he was okay. She needed him to know that she was okay. Her heart ached and stung in her chest for Draco. Her love for him was an exquisite pain.

She went to her desk and took out a quill and parchment.

-----

Draco had arrived at Snape's door blood stained and drenched from a sudden squall that was raging. He had come once again to the dark and dilapidated home on Spinner's End, unsure of where else he could have escaped to. Snape had ushered him in immediately and quickly discovered the whole unlucky story of Blaise and Ron's deaths.

Draco now sat numbly with his head in his hands in Snape's darkened bedroom. The room was devoid of all light save from a single candle flickering on the nightstand. His clothing was still wet from the rain and he had refused Snape's offer to mend his wounds with magic. He sat alone in the almost darkness, willing with all of his might that this might be just a nightmare.

“I have news from the Ministry, Draco,” Snape said entering the room quietly. “Your sentence has been made public.”

“Is it better or worse than Azkaban?” Draco muttered, head still down.

“It is — an unexpected choice,” Snape said carefully, moving closer to him.

Draco finally looked up, eyes troubled. “Well?”

“Banishment,” Snape said finally after a moment. “You will not go to Azkaban. You've been sentenced, without trial, to exile from our world. Your wand has been destroyed.”

Draco blinked for a instant and looked down again. “Banishment,” he said slowly to himself.

After a beat, he began to laugh - so low at first, Snape thought he might be weeping.

Draco's laugh grew louder and more frenzied until he finally looked up at Snape. “I'd rather you say `death' than banishment,” he said viciously, still laughing. “Exile is worse than death. Don't say `banishment' to me.”

“Don't be a fool, Draco,” Snape hissed at him. “There is a wide world beyond our own. Living amongst Muggles-”

“I'm not a bloody Squib!” Draco cried furiously rising from the chair. His unhinged laughter had finally ceased. “I'm just expected to live without magic forever? I'm a wizard, it's my birthright!”

“It's an unorthodox punishment, but a merciful one considering the circumstances,” Snape said a little more tenderly. "Eirena Milnore could have easily condemned you to death.”

“Can't you see, she did!” Draco said mournfully. “There is no life without magic. Being banished from all that I've ever known, from being a wizard? I'd rather she'd let the Dementors have me.”

Snape grabbed Draco and shook him by the arms aggressively. “Get a hold of yourself,” he said harshly. “You committed a crime which is punishable by death, and yet you still live. Be grateful!”

“And what of Ginny?” Draco said painfully, breaking free of Snape's hold. His eyes stung and he could feel fresh tears forming. “We've been married for barely a day and I've already fucked it up.”

Snape studied him silently.

“I need to be with her,” Draco said gravely. “Every moment we're apart, I feel like every fiber of my being is crying out for her. It's…unbearable.”

“It's the Unbreakable Vow,” Snape said shrewdly. “The marriage has bonded your souls. The vow you took intensifies the connection. The pain will get worse the longer you are apart.”

A sudden and fervent tapping interrupted them.

Snape flicked his wand immediately and the lone candle flame in the room extinguished.

“Stay here, don't move,” Snape hissed. Draco felt him pass next to him and through the door.

Draco sunk to the ground from where he stood. Maybe he would be killed after all, he thought. That might be the best thing for Ginny, after all. What kind of life could he possibly offer her now?

Snape returned silently moments later. It was only after he had relit the candle that Draco realized he had an open letter in his hand.

“It's from Ginny,” he said, still quietly. He held the letter out to Draco, who reached for it after a slight moment of hesitation. It was the moment of truth: what would Ginny say of their ruined love?

D,

I know everything that has happened. My heart is breaking for it and for you. Please come to me tonight, as soon as you can. Only your presence can help heal me. I must know that you are safe and alive. I must know that our love still survives. Come to me —my love, my life.

-G

Draco exhaled deeply. Ginny didn't hate him. She still loved him, she still wanted him. He felt his faith resorted with her letter in his hand.

“I've got to go to her,” he told Snape matter-of-factly. “Immediately.”

Snape quickly realized that any attempt to dissuade Draco would be futile.

“You must be gone before the morning,” Snape said cautiously. “You must disappear.”

“Where would I go?” Draco answered.

“You must go into hiding,” Snape said before leaving the room again. He came back a few minutes later with a small gray satchel in hand. “This bag has the tools you'll need to get by,” he said extending the bag to Draco.

He reached for the satchel eagerly, but Snape pulled it back at the last moment. “There is a spare wand hidden in a secret pocket of this bag,” he said carefully with a concentrated stare. “The Ministry will attempt to watch you. If they see you use magic or even find a wand on you, you'd likely be killed on the spot.”

Draco nodded and slung the bag over his shoulder.

Snape put his hand on his other shoulder and pulled him closer. “Once the excitement dies down, I will attempt to seek a pardon from the Ministry for you.”

For the first time in his life, Draco hugged Snape. “Thank you for everything,” he said earnestly.

Snape only nodded and ushered him towards the door. His final words were “I'll be in touch.”

-----

It was just nearing midnight when Draco finally appeared at Ginny's window. Her bedroom was dark but he could see her reading by wand light perched at the foot of her bed. He tapped lightly on the glass.

She looked up straight away and he could see instant relief flood her face. She smiled at him and strode across the room to let him in. He grinned back at her and climbed through the window gingerly.

“You're hurt,” she said immediately. She reached for his face, examining the cut and now dried blood across his cheek.

“It's nothing,” he dismissed. He took her hand from his face and kissed her fingers.

Her face was still concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Are you alright?” he said back to her. He stared at her intently. “I'm so sorry, Ginny. I never­—”

“Don't,” she said, shutting her eyes. He frowned, pulling her to his chest. He held her tightly as she cried a little. She took a breath and opened her eyes finally. “I'm glad you're alive.”

“Me too,” he said back to her. Ginny pulled away from him and he could see now that she had been weeping. His heart gave a pang. He touched her face now, wiping away the tears with his thumb.

“I love you,” he said simply. “So much.” It was all he could say to help her now. He could not undo what had been done.

Her eyes softened. She leaned up and kissed him gently, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck. Her fingers brushed through his damp hair.

Draco kissed her back tenderly at first, then leaned in hungrily as he wound his hands arms around her waist. After a minute she pulled away from him and led him towards the bed.

She undid the buttons of his navy shirt for him. As Draco removed it, Ginny's brow furrowed in alarm. His back, chest, and arms were decorated with a handful of fresh wounds and bruises.

She touched his chest gently and kissed him again, deeper this time. Draco lifted her onto the bed quietly and leaned over her, pulling her nightgown up along the way. He ran a hand up her thigh meticulously, lingering slightly when he reached her panties. He stopped.

She pulled herself up on to her elbows and looked up at him curiously. “What's wrong?”

“Are you sure?” he asked softly.

She grinned. “You're my great love,” she replied confidently. “I've never been more sure about anything.”

He grinned back and kissed her again. He pulled the shoulder of her nightgown down and began exploring her neck with his mouth. She closed her eyes to his touch and sighed contentedly. He trailed his kisses down to her chest. Draco had removed her nightgown completely now.

Ginny pulled him up to her face and found his mouth with hers, kissing him as she had never kissed anyone before. She finally broke the kiss and removed his pants urgently. He looked at her hungrily — the desire in his eyes fueled her.

Feeling bold, she pushed him down onto the bed and straddled him. He touched her eagerly, as if he would never have enough of her body or her love. Being with Ginny made him feel whole, complete, and alive — a feeling he had never experienced before in his adult life.

He kissed her urgently now, passionately. Ginny had never felt such strong desire. It burned through her as hot as ice. She wanted every part of him desperately - now and always.

They lied together for a long time after they had made love. Ginny fell asleep first, her head resting on the crook of Draco's shoulder. She moved ever so slightly along with the steady up and down movement of Draco's chest.

Draco fought sleep for a long while. He wanted to savor every moment he had with Ginny. He watched her for hours, studying the delicate pattern of freckles etched across her nose and cheeks. He wanted to remember each and every one.

He stayed awake until his eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. Finally Draco dozed off, falling asleep to the comforting sounds of Ginny's even breaths on his chest.

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