Bring Me to Life

Scarlett

Rating: R
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 5
Published: 17/07/2003
Last Updated: 08/08/2004
Status: in_progress

Another chapter already ack!!! The battle is over, and the healing has begun... for some that is. Two students share similar pain and face an uncertain future. D/G and H/Hr plenty of fluff and angst The R has not kicked in yet - so anyone who is worried about it I promise to warn before there is any R content.

Chapters

1. The Pain of Victory

2. Reflection and Inquiry

3. A New Malfoy

4. Past and Present

5. Remembering What is Familiar

6. Demons

7. Jam and Lemonade

8. The Past is Never Far

9. Roses are Red...

10. The Homecoming Queen

11. As the Owl Turns...

12. In the Middle of the Night

13. Confrontations

14. Old Friends

15. author

16. The Return

17. The Other Side of the Coin

18. You Can

19. Conversations

20. Things Change

1. The Pain of Victory

2. Reflection and Inquiry

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing except a rather large DVD collection and too many shoes!

Chapter 2: Reflection and Inquiry

Ron's clear brown eyes scanned the plethora of orange that was his childhood bedroom. The year's past starting lineup for the Chudley Cannons winked back at him. They mugged for the camera tidying up their bright orange uniforms - exuding not a care in the world beyond strategizing for their next match. Ron's eyes locked on the various players remembering days where all he thought about was Krum's (as much as he disliked the Bulgarian) brilliant execution of the Wronski feint and the best strategy to ensure Gryffindor the House cup. He remembered his elation at finally gaining a spot on the Gryffindor team as keeper during his fifth year. Somehow it just didn't seem to matter anymore he mused. His eyes strayed around the room, on the table by his bed a quidditch book and a canary crème resided, gifts from Fred and George in a brotherly gesture of good health. They lay untouched Ron sighed he just hadn't been able to re-enter the world of his adolescent interests; it seemed trivial and unimportant now. To his left on the dresser were framed photos, cataloguing his Hogwarts memories.

The first picture contained Harry, Hermione, and him in their second year. It was a famous Colin Creevy photo. Hermione stood between Harry and himself. Wide grins lit up all their faces. Harry's green eyes sparkled behind his black rimmed glasses; periodically he held a pair of bunny ears up to Hermione's head, which she would smack away good naturedly. The sun shone brightly on the lake in the background and various students romped in the late summer sunshine. Ron thought about how happy they had been in that picture, it was before the specter of Voldemort had become all-consuming.

The next photo was of Lavendar and he from last years Yule ball, Lavender clad in a dress of her namesake, her eyes sparkled merrily. Ron held her hand securely and grinned in the photo. Not oft taken for romantic remembrances Ron recalled that the night had been beautiful. He and Lavender had begun dating that night and not ten minutes after the photo was taken they had escaped to the balcony and shared their first kiss in the crisp December air. Ron quickly closed his eyes and took in a sharp breath, flaring his nostrils. He couldn't look at that photo anymore; it was too painful the memories attached were too fresh.

The next photo on the dresser depicted a family barbeque the summer after his 5th year, the entire family had been there including Bill and Charlie. The picnic had been right before Bill's marriage to his wife Fleur. Charlie was sitting on a lawn chair talking with Percy's long time girlfriend Penelope Clearwater. Penelope had become a fixture at the house that summer; they would become engaged by Christmas he recalled. A smile snaked across Ron's face as the images of Fred and George setting off a pack of fireworks right behind Harry and Hermione who were attempting to slyly slip in a quick snog. The two had begun dating during the summer after the tumultuous events of their fifth year. Hermione, desperately worried about Harry after the death of Sirius, constantly wrote to Harry and visited him regularly. Ron had been unable to get away very often, due to his mothers constant worry over traveling with Voldemort on the loose. The next thing Ron knew his two best friends were more than friends. Although Harry always worried that his feelings for her would result in pain for Hermione, he couldn't deny himself or her the chance at a semblance of a happiness. The pair jumped apart in surprise while the twins ran off in a blur of laughing red hair. Molly and Arthur were arguing over the muggle barbeque that his father had insisted upon using. Ron chuckled over ensuing ball of flame that he knew would come out of the muggle contraption at any moment. Bill sat relaxing with his soon-to-be wife reclining on his lap under the big apple tree. Ron thought of their small child now, Lucas, named after Fleur's father, who passed on at the hands of Deatheaters mere weeks after the wedding.

Ron stared at the photo searching for the final two Weasleys, Ginny and Percy. He scanned the photo in search of their dark auburn locks. Of all the Weasleys they resembled each other the most (aside from Fred and George) both of their heads of hair had matured into a muted auburn unlike the shocking red locks of the rest of the family. He was surprised that the only female Weasley would be that difficult to find. Finally he caught sight of her in the background of the photo, sitting on the grass, Percy sat beside her his arm securely wrapped around her slim shoulders. Ron stared hard at the photo from his vantage point unable to get up and examine it closer. He growled in frustration at his inability to move. He suddenly felt the need to see why Ginny and Percy here hidden off in the corner.

A knock on the door interrupted his perusal of the photo.

"Yes." Ron invited his visitor in the room. "Harry! Hermione!" Ron was pleasantly surprised to see his two best friends in his room, he wasn't sure when they would be in to visit next.

Hermione quickly walked over and hugged Ron in greeting. Harry followed her in the room and smiled at his best mate.

"Now Ron don't enjoy that hug too much, I don't care if you are recovering from a full body bind." Harry teased Ron as Hermione released 'helpless' Ron and swatted at her boyfriend playfully. "shush. the poor boy has been confined to this bed for two straight days, and you haven't." Hermione paused and an out-of-character smile played on her features. "well that's not entirely true now is it!" Harry's eyebrows rose at her implied innuendo, slightly shocked that she would make such a comment at all let alone in the presence of Ron. Ever since they had been reunited she had been less restrained, and while he normally loved that aspect of her personality he was beginning to like this new side of Hermione. Ron groaned in response. "Hermione no. gods. did you have to say that, there are certain things that are just too much information."

Hermione ignored the protests of the patient and placed a kiss on Harry's lips that left no question of the truth to her words. "Hello. Hello." I'm still here!" Ron attempted to remind his visitors. "Ron as much as I love you mate, stuff it for a minute." Harry's arms snaked around Hermione pulling her close and deepening the kiss for a moment.

Ron sighed and let them have their moment, they had been separated for the whole summer, with their future in the greatest jeopardy. Staring at the ceiling for a space of minutes he noticed that the lovebirds had finally parted and decided to return their attention to their reason for being at the Burrow.

"Well back to me are we?" Ron looked over at them a slight pang of jealously quelled quickly.

"Sorry Ron, won't happen again." Ron guffawed at that response from Harry.

"Just like it didn't happen the whole train ride out the Hogwarts last fall or during the Yule Ball or every Hogsmeade trip for the past year." Ron countered.

"Hey I don't seem to recall you complaining too much, with your tongue down Lav.." Hermione stopped abruptly covering her mouth at her mention of Lavender Brown. "Oh God Ron, I'm sorry I didn't mean to remind you of that, I wasn't thinking."

"I sincerely believe you are sorry." Ron paused running a hand through his shaggy red hair, absurdly the thought that he needed to get his hair trimmed popped up in his mind. "and its time that I began to deal with the effects of this war, I can't hide away from reality. Its all over, and as much as it may hurt life will go on with or without those we care about." Ron finished his eyes weary and his breath coming heavily.

Harry looked down at Ron and a small smile crept up his features, he was glad Ron was able to see the situation thus, it would help when they told him about Percy tomorrow. Harry placed a hand on Ron's shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it mate, just remember we are always here for you. I know only too well what you are feeling." Harry's eyes darkened as he remembered all those that had lost their lives protecting him or because he wasn't able to kill Voldemort until this summer. Cedric's visage floated in front of his eyes followed by Sirius, Professor Trewlaney, Lavender, Dennis Creevy and finally Percy, the last to fall victim to Tom Riddle.

Ron inclined his head in acceptance at Harry's words. 'But' a small voice crept into Ron's mind 'at least you have someone to get through this with.' His eyes strayed to Hermione's concerned visage. He loved her, in fact at one time had dreamed of a future for them, but that dream was gone with many others and banished to far reaches of his mind.

Why did that old memory have to pop up now!

It was pointless Harry and Hermione are blissfully happy. It was only because he had lost the girl he would have liked to begin a similar sort of relationship with, that his old feelings for the brunette standing alongside his bed resurfaced.

"So Ron how are you feeling? Better I hope after all according to Dumbledore, school will continue just a few weeks late!" A happy glow encompassed her face as she talked about school.

"Leave it to you Hermione to remind me about school while I'm trapped in bed. I know, Professor Dumbledore was in earlier for a visit and told me the plans. And yes, I am feeling remarkably better. Only my legs are still 'unusable' everything else is ready to go!" With the reminder that he was still bed bound his consternation over the family photo resurfaced. "Harry, mate, could you hand me that photo of the summer picnic?"

"Sure Ron." Harry walked over to the dresser and grabbed the photo smiling at the people and memories imbedded in the frame. "what you need it for?" Harry questioned the request concerned for Ron and his coping with life after the war, despite his earlier protests.

"I just wanted to take a closer look at it, I was having trouble finding everyone from this distance. Thanks!" Harry handed Ron the colorful photo.

Their conversation continued for several minutes. Ron asked about Remus and Tonks. Harry affirmed their health, and admitted that he thought Remus might propose now that the war was over. He also, with a great deal of happiness but with a tinge of sorrow, announced that Remus had agreed to stay at the home Harry had found in Godrics Hollow, since he no longer had to stay with the Dursleys. Harry had planned on living there with Sirius when the war was over, but that plan was cruelly denied. They chatted about school, upcoming classes, Hermione sniffled a bit, since it would be their final year. Yet despite this sense of normalcy there presided an overwhelming stiffness. Ron mused it was still distinctly odd to discuss such mundane topics as quidditch when they had just participated in a horrific war that could and did kill many all at the tender age of 17. Ron felt out of place in his own world, he had spent the last year focused on training for battle, he wondered if others felt as he did, out of place in his former life. He didn't think he could just revert to the old Ron Weasley, in fact he didn't think that he wanted to, his experiences in the war were a part of him and shouldn't be ignored or glossed over. He didn't know how Harry and Hermione felt, they had yet to broach the topic, perhaps it was too fresh for vocal discussion, perhaps it needed to remain internal for the time being.

A bellow from downstairs interrupted the patch of silence their conversation had run onto as Ron contemplated. "Lunch" came Charlie's loud voice.

"Would you like us to bring something up to you Ron? We can grab you some food!"

"Sure go ahead and eat with the family, they will be happy to see you both, I'm sure you will be a welcome addition to the meal. Just bring up a plate when you are done."

As the couple turned to leave the shrine to the Chudley Canons that Ron's room was, Ron quickly diverted his attention to the photo that had remained in his hands throughout their conversation. 'Hmm' Harry thought 'there was definitely more to that photo than a simple curiosity, I'll give Ron time he'll tell me.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ron stared down at the photo and again pinpointed Ginny and Percy at the back of the photo. Sure enough Percy had his arm around Ginny in a gesture of comfort. Ginny's upturned face seemed wistful, he noticed a sheen of unshed tears in her eyes. Ron followed her line of vision, it landed square on Harry and Hermione sharing a kiss. He sighed, despite her many protestations it appeared that Ginny hadn't dropped her youthful crush on Harry. He watched Percy's brow furrow in consternation. Periodically one hand would reach up and wipe away a small trickle of tears that would begin to seep down her pale cheek. Ron was taken aback by the pain in his sisters face, he had always thought Ginny had just had a school girls crush on the Boy Who Lived, but apparently to the youngest Weasley it was much more.

A rush of guilt flooded through his body, why had he, the closest in age, missed it and Percy who was long since gone had picked up on her distress. It dawned on Ron that over the years he had almost completely lost touch with his younger sister. Sure they still talked, and spent time together, but there was a new distance present. When they were little they had often played together defending each other against pranks from Fred and George and ganged up with them to pick on Percy the stickler. Yet he began to remember that when Ginny scraped a knee or when he stuck with the older twins as he often did she would run to Percy, her protector. He remembered her quietness the summer he came back from Hogwarts for the first time. They seemed to spend less and less time together from that moment on. He realized that his friendship with Harry and Hermione had superceded his relationship with his youngest sibling. Ginny had taken a sideline in his life, looking back on his memories from Hogwarts very few involved Ginny beyond the Chamber of Secrets and teasing her for crushing on Harry.

Ron sat back against the headboard, shocked at his revelation, Ginny, who his every instinct as a brother was to protect, has been hurting and he hadn't bothered to see it. In fact with her role in the opening of the Chamber of Secrets and the confusion over her and Hermione's abduction off the Hogwarts express, he had failed to look after his sister altogether, sadly he had begun to believe the worst of her. Granted she had battled Lucius Malfoy and the other Death Eaters at the Ministry during his fifth year, but he swore he had seen Ginny lead Hermione off that train. Was it true he wondered, had she played an active role in Voldemort's rise to power and in the abduction of Hermione? He halted his train of thought, thinking he needed to give her a chance to explain, she deserved his benefit of the doubt. In fact he couldn't think about that right now considering he hadn't seen her yet since the battle ended. God, No! He thought it couldn't be! As much as he had avoided it in the past two days he catalogued his visitors. He had pointedly avoided this method of determining possible deaths and survivors of the final battle. Both his parents had been in, Fred, George, Charlie, Harry, Hermione and Professor Dumbledore. That left Ginny, Percy and Bill. Oh God he thought, was it possible, had all three of them perished in the war, surely his family would have told him. Perhaps they were waiting until he was better to break the news.

That was too much for Ron to take, surely the gods couldn't be so cruel to take away three members of his family. The thought that many lost their whole family caused Ron to pause. Percy, who finally shook off the influence of Fudge, was welcomed back into the fold and took up an intimate role in the fighting. Bill had as well, putting both in grave danger. Percy seemed especially reckless after Ginny disappeared, he was one of the few who voiced his opposition to the theory that she had willingly joined with Voldemort's legions. Ron sighed he had never defended his sister against such accusations. At the time he had been so confused and hurt by the prospect that his sister could possibly have taken an active role in such a plot, some part of him had been unable to fully absolve her of all wrong-doing. Why did he think such things of her? He supposed it was because of her earlier connection with Tom Riddle and the Chamber of Secrets, perhaps she was especially vulnerable to the ministrations of the Dark Lord. Looking back on her actions after her first year, he saw her become more and more reclusive, more vulnerable to the seduction from the dark side. He never thought he would think something of a Weasley, but there was that small question that he had heard some less that tactful wizards make about Ginny's actual parentage. No, that was rubbish Ron thought, Ginny was a Weasley through and through, they were just rumors since she was a female and it had been so many years since a Weasley family had produced a girl. Ron tried to ignore this thought, she was his sister and she may be dead or worse.

The thought suddenly came to Ron, maybe she was still in allegiance with the death-eaters and that was why she hadn't come to visit him. Ron could picture her living it up on the lamb with Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy, even the thought of his name placed a scowl on Ron's face.

"What's with the scowl Bro?" Charlie's handsome face peeked in the doorway. "I brought some food up for you."

Ron looked up with a questioning glance.

"Harry was called away by Remus, some Deatheater testimony or such I didn't quite catch the message, Hermione is sitting with mother visiting." Charlie read the question in Ron's eyes.

"Oh thanks Charlie, I can't wait to be out of this bed, it's ridiculous really to be confined in the room." After a brief pause Ron looked to his brother. "Charlie. can I ask you a question?" Charlie paused at the somber tone of Ron's voice, "Yeah, shoot!" Charlie aimed at lighthearted with his response but the whole time his mind repeated please don't let him ask about Percy.please not Percy.

"Where's Ginny-bean?" Ron used her childhood nickname in spite of the loaded atmosphere.

Charlie started, he had been avoiding that question since the beginning of the summer. He had heard the rumors and had denied them at first, but in the face of so much evidence it was became hard to refute. So, for his own peace of mind Charlie had tried to avoid contemplating the whereabouts of his sister, and with the tragedy of Percy it had been remarkably easy. "Ron, come to think of it, and I feel horrible as a brother saying this, I don't know. I haven't seen hide nor hair of her. Mum and dad haven't mentioned anything, so I assume they know and all is well." Charlie answered despite his own reservations, deposited the plate on Ron's nightstand and turned back to the door, suddenly feeling the need to get of the Burrow and all its memories. "I promised Dad I'd de-gnome the lawn since your sorry butt is laid up." Charlie got out as he left the room hanging on whatever excuse he could come up with.

Ron stared at Charlie's retreating back, even more confused than before he asked his question.

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A/N I promise I will return to Ginny and Draco next chapter, this may be a reoccurring set up for the chapters - we shall see : )

3. A New Malfoy

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for an undying infatuation with Sean Biggerstaff : )

Thanks so much all those who reviewed and lent some encouragement - it is much appreciated!

Chapter 3 - A Different Malfoy

A crisp chill bit through the still air. In the distance chimes rang proclaiming the hour to be six o'clock, but that was the only sound to be heard in the massive building. There was no sound of a cheerfully crackling fire, of children running nor of families conversing, rather the building was as silent as a tomb. If it had not been for a property deed listing it as a home a normal human would have been hard pressed to classify the structure as such; its sterility lent it more toward a museum rather than a dwelling intended for a family. It didn't seem to be a place where Christmas presents were gleefully torn open, where a lamp could be broken due to a 'fly-by-brooming, or where a husband and wife could share a quiet intimate moment. Its very splendor and majesty quelled exuberance and encouraged a staid existence. It was a beautiful cold structure that reeked of power and money, yet Draco Malfoy, heir to this manor, stared morosely at the Grand Hallway. Instead of feeling the expected pride at the beauty of his ancestral home he felt anger arise at the price such regality cost, especially for its occupants.

Draco ran his fingers along the wainscoting that lined the grand hallway of Malfoy Manor as the staccato of his shoes began to fill the cavernous passage with sound. The regal hallway ran long and straight, emphasizing the size and power of the family. Portraits of former Malfoys lined the walkway, all pompously assuming positions of power and distinct that accentuated what they had held during their lifetimes. Draco paused in his leisurely pace a small smile lit his features, this activity - merely running his fingers along the wall - would certainly have resulted in a reprimand for a younger Draco.

Boy! Do not dirty the walls. To do so is to join rank with those of a more common existence, a Malfoy always walks with dignity...Never interrupt me boy!

The memory of Draco the boy fell away, as Draco lifted his long aristocratic finger from the wall and examined the small particles of dust that had come to rest there. A small escaped sigh blew away the evidence of this illegal activity, and with it, Draco the boy vanished. The large calloused hand that remained was testament to the man than now resided, forced by reality upon the eighteen year old. The child that was never allowed to be, could now never be…

Another thing, did I not tell you to refrain from touching anything, you are old enough to understand the responsibilities that your name and rank entail

Lucius Malfoy's voice once again intruded in his son's mind, with a shake of his gilt head Draco attempted to cease the memories that the manor called forth from his soul. His very existence perhaps could be understood through that simple command given to a small child by his omnipotent father. Don't touch, and never be touched…How often he heard that commandment he couldn't fathom. For its frequent use by Malfoys it should have been his families motto. non tangat he smirked at the absurdity of such a motto. That wouldn't look good engraved upon a sword now would it, he ruminated. that directive certainly applied to more than refraining from smudging walls and handling breakable objects in unsavory Knockturn alley shops. It was applied to all aspects of life, including familial love. His father had only shown him shrewd calculated coldness, designed to remove all weakness from his life, at all costs. His mother had taught him the price that was to be paid if you let your guard down and touched, and it was a price he would not let himself contemplate.

Draco continued to meander his way down the hallway, it was the first time he had wandered the halls since his return home. It had been three full days now and yet he had not to leave the confines of his suite. Perhaps this was intentional, he hadn't been ready to encounter the memories that his home contained. He wondered if he could have avoided this entirely had he not brought Ginny back with him. He had done his part, completed his mission, he could have left, made a new life somewhere else where no one knew his history or his family, perhaps he could have found happiness.

He scoffed at this fanciful notion, he was a Malfoy, despite his complicated feelings on the matter; he did not shirk his duties and responsibilities. If he could have nothing else he would retain his pride, no one would accuse him of cowardice. Running away from life had never been an option, and would never be for Draco. He continued down the hallway his gray orbs scanning his ancestors that followed his progress. They were all blonde haired and steel eyed, some glared at the young mans presence others smirked at his position yet one quelled the trademark smirk and replaced it with a small smile of approval, his eyes aglow with pride.

Draco paid scant attention to these ancient reminders of the legacy he was destined to uphold, he had eyes for only one portrait. It graced a large swath of wall near the entrance to the east wing. The imposing figure of Lucius Malfoy was framed in black; he stood at full height daring someone to challenge his authority. His crystalline grey eyes coldly examined his realm and deemed all unworthy, including his own flesh and blood. His black robes swirled around his tall figure; his painted persona ruling the misty background of his created kingdom.

Draco stared at the eyes that so resembled his own, that created him and made him the man he was today for better or worse. Gods, how he hated Lucius… Anger once again amassed within Draco. He took in a large breath learning how to control such emotion was trying. A frivolity as emotion was not allowed in the Malfoy family, Draco had broken that rule enough to finally learn the value of obeying it. Now there existed no reason for him to deny himself the satisfaction of wallowing in anger, except for now it would do no good and Draco was smart enough to understand this. He slammed his fist into the ivory plastered wall adjacent to Lucius' portrait in frustration at the futility of it all. The strong wall sustained no damage; the same could not be said for its attacker. Draco colorfully swore at the pain he caused himself, and shook his hand in attempt to fling off the injury. He glared at the wall… paused and began to laugh,,p>

Gods I really am losing it, yet I suppose it is better to direct my anger at a wall than at a dead man

A sudden pop caught Draco's attention,

"Master Malfoy?"

Draco resisted the urge to look behind him for his father… "Yes Roderick."

"The doctor is finished and he has requested to speak with you before he departs."

"Very well, Have a light dinner prepared, I have not eaten yet." With that Draco Malfoy turned on his heel and left the small house elf to attend to his duties.

Draco approached the large double paneled doors that lead to his suite, not knowing what to expect. As he reached for the ornate, dragon sculpted handle it was thrust toward him suddenly. Draco found himself eye to… thin air… rather the gleaming top of the balding medi-wizard he had known since birth.

"Doctor" Draco lowered his head in acknowledgement of the older man who suddenly stood before him.

A smile appeared on the small round mans face, " Draco" The Doctor acknowledged Draco with a similar inclination of his balding head. "Enough with the formalities I believe it is past time that you began to call me by name, after all I have known you since you were in nappies. Please call me Aesculapius or Aesa… I was never as fond of the old names as my dear mother was!"

Draco started, unsure how to react to this new situation. He was on new footing with the aged man before him, the same plane his father had once occupied. Aside from his new role as the Malfoy with this past authority figure, the doctor's demeanor toward Draco mystified him. In the past Aesculapius had always remained silent while treating Draco's various ailments. He hadn't seemed the type to offer condolence or sympathy or even to relate familiarly. As the painful memories of his visits resurfaced a common thread appeared, the image of his father always standing over the small man while the tended Draco. He ought to become accustomed to such turnarounds Draco thought ruefully. The kind aspect of the round doctor, who was now set about closing the large doors to the suite, prompted Draco to give him a second chance and to 'meet' him again, without the specter of his father.

"Aesculapius…" he paused taking a long breath in, still slightly uncomfortable with the familiarity. " how did the examination go? I have been following the directions you gave me the first night." Draco led them to the next room, a small sitting parlor decorated in pearly grays and muted green.

Aesa turned his head toward the young man at the sound of his voice and drug his mind away from its thoughts. Gods he resembles his father Aesa thought. Draco possessed the same gilt blonde hair, steel eyes, and perhaps most astonishingly his air of supreme authority. Aesa also noted the distinct differences in the son, his hair as looser not long as Lucius had worn it. A concession to his ancestors he had always claimed. Draco's eyes were also vastly different, there were depths in the young mans silver eyes that he couldn't even begin to discern. Despite his initial shock at the sight of a younger Lucius, Aesa was pleasantly surprised to note that Lucius hadn't killed the man that Draco could be, this he could work with.

"You have been doing a wonderful job with our patient in there, she is resting well." He responded to the rather concerned look on the young mans face. "I will leave another supply of a my healing sleep potion, another week I believe should be enough."

"And her injuries are they healing satisfactorily?" Draco finally situated his restless limbs in love seat opposite the doctor. "Forgive my manners, can I get you something to drink?"

"Hmm…" Aesa turned his head toward the cabinets along the sidewall, " I would enjoy a snifter of that brandy I know is hidden in the third panel to the left... Don't trouble yourself, I'll help myself."

Draco stared at Aesa; the twinkle that had appeared in his eyes unconsciously causing Draco to smile in return, his eyes following Aesa's path to the liquor cabinet.

"How did you know I hid my muggle alcohol in that panel?" Draco asked unable to prevent himself.

"I can always search out a quality year Brandy, and after all who do you think 'accidentally' left behind the first bottle you sampled… it was right after your fifth year at Hogwarts was it not?" Aesa poured a healthy amount of the amber liquor into the glass snifter, swirling it as he spoke.

Draco continued to stare at the doctor in awe, why would he do such a thing? Aesa had to know Lucius' hatred for all things common, including something so mundane as a beverage. Furthermore why would he have sought to introduce Draco to such a medium, not that he was truly complaining after all it was his something he highly cherished now. Draco opened his mouth to reiterate all the questions that had just run through his mind, but before his voice engaged he stopped.

Now is not the time to ask such question, practice your bloody prided restraint and think before you open your mouth Draco chided himself.

Aesa smiled at visible inner struggle running across Draco's austere features. He had been such a reserved boy and it had pained Aesa to see him such, when it was so obviously an unnatural state. Aesa opted to let the boy off the hook and change the topic of conversation.

All in good time Draco, all in good time.

"Thank you for the refreshment." Aesa resumed his seat across from Draco and reclined "On to the status of the young lady across the hall… that you want to know about, correct?"

Draco uncrossed his legs and leaned forward clasping his hands and resting his elbows on this slack covered knees. "Yes… Yes it is. I guess what I want to know is what happened to her?"

"I can't tell you my son, I can tell you the extent of her injuries and despite my extensive work with the Dark Arts I can't even decipher what was used on her." Aesa sighed in frustration his hands running though his non-existent hair in an obviously routine motion. "I won't lie to you, she is very badly injured and powerful magic was employed. Perhaps it will help if you tell me what you witnessed."

"When I came across her, it was just after the battle had ended; Voldemort had just been vanquished by Potter. I was standing over… off to the side of the battle." Despite his lack of regret over his actions that day Draco still found himself unable to put into words what had occurred especially to someone who had such a long standing familial connection to the Malfoys. "Potter and Granger had already left the battle field, typically leaving the cleanup and aftermath to everyone else… bloody Gryffindors… I had just finished watching them depart when a shock of light caught my eye. I was a bright green if I remember correctly, and it was originating from the entrance to Voldemort's hideout. I noticed that no one else was investigating, and it was also then that I recalled that I had not seen the young Weasley girl emerge when Granger had. I discovered her… Virginia that is, lying on the ground, wounds as you saw them and barely breathing. As I approached, the light began again and I discovered its source, it seemed to be coming from her very body. It lifted her in to the air as if a sting was attached to her stomach, limbs loose and such."

Draco paused to see if the doctor had any questions. When he determined that Aesa was not going to probe any further at that time he continued.

"Virginia began to scream in pain and bleed, as suddenly as it began it ceased, she hit the floor and her blood continued to flow, from a source I couldn't determine. Then I brought her here and contacted you."

Aesa rubbed his forehead in thought; it was very dark magic indeed. Her injuries and Draco's description of the events all pointed to events more sinister than her had at first imagined and didn't want to have to understand.

"Well Draco, I will tell you as much as I can regarding her injuries, but I am afraid I cannot give you adequate answers regarding what happened. When I talked to the young woman she had no recollection of the events, her last cognizant memory is of the Hogwarts Express and crying in the bathroom - even that is fuzzy."

Draco interrupted the Doctor, "How can she not remember the past 3 months, is it some sort of hex?"

"No… No it is much more simple than that, it appears as though her injuries and perhaps experiences were just too traumatic. Her consciousness, in an attempt to protect her simply blocked the events. I know that it may be tempting to inform her of all that has occurred, but in fact it is crucial that you do not tell her anything, at least for the time being. I would like for her to try and recall the events on her own, and exercise her own demons before we intervene."

Draco looked thoughtfully at the doctor and wondered out loud, "What could be so traumatic that she has forgotten the past three months..."

Aesa set his snifter of brandy down and looked into Draco's steel tinted eyes, "Well Drao, she did have a child ripped from her womb by the darkest magic possible!"

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Sorry to leave you with a bit of a cliffy, but as the answers will all come in time… Patience is a virtue one that I sadly do not possess so I understand your pain : ) Next chappie will contain some good ol' D/G action of course as well as some H/H... at least that is what my inner eye tells me ; )

And of course - feel free to review!

4. Past and Present

Disclaimer: Just as I cannot have an Aston Martin, I cannot claim these characters. Only the plot and a Honda Civic are mine.

Thank you to all of you who reviewed, I truly appreciate it! Sorry for the grammer flaws that do exist - for as educated as I may be, I must have missed some grammer lessons along the way! If anyone wants to Beta this work let me know, I have never tried to get a Beta so I wasn't sure where to begin!

Alyxandria - I read your post and I decided that I too need to review what I wrote. That is something I assumed in my head while writing, but probably didn't clarify in actual writing. How sad is my short term memory I can't even remember what I last wrote - damn diet soda!!!!

Well on with the show

Chapter 4 - Past and Present

The sky was lit with a crimson glow. The gentle hills that surrounded the small Tudor home were flush with lush late-summer grass. The setting sun struck the west side of the white house illuminating the small details such as the dark decorative beams, the small beds of flowers that lined stone walkways and the small carved sign that read Potter. At the crest of one of the surrounding hills, sat a young man basking in the disappearing light, his ebony hair was highlighted in the failing light and from behind the sun seemed to shimmer around him, giving him an ethereal quality. The boy was deep in thought his knees raised and his forearms resting on top.

It was thus that a young woman with chestnut hair hesitated to interrupt his tranquility. Hermione Granger slowly made her way from the rear door of the home to the grassy knoll that the boy sat upon. As she approached she unconsciously smoothed her hair down and straightened her flowered skirt that gently brushed her knees. Hermione came to rest behind the boy tentatively interrupting his quiet.

"Harry?"

The boy swiveled his head in response and Hermione was quickly reminded that he was no boy, but now a man. The sun struck his face in deep relief, etching the planes that comprised his features. His face was weary, the mouth pinched in sorrow, although the edges began to curve up in response to his visitor. Perhaps the most telling feature was his eyes. The emerald orbs that had once held brilliant surprise, now were dimmed by experience and heartbreak. His raven hair still held a boyish unkempt character, but on his wizened face it was clear he was no longer a youth.

"Well hello!" He smiled up at the brunette whose hand rested on his shoulder. "Have a seat" Harry inclined his head pointing to the patch of grass to his right.

Hermione gathered her skirt and gracefully sunk to the grass. She rested her chin on her shoulder and gazed at Harry. "So... how's solitary confinement treating you?"

"I'm sorry Herm, I know I've been out here all day. I didn't intend to leave you alone for so long but... I... I don't know how to explain it."

"Shhhh..." Hermione placed a finger across his lips. " I know, I was just teasing you. I don't expect you to spend every waking moment with me, after all if you did I'm afraid my studies would feel neglected."

Harry stared at Hermione despite his utter desolation and confusion he was infused with a sense of calmness as she sat alongside him. He was in love with her response, in love with her visage, in love with her. The tip of his tongue escaped his lips and teased her silencing finger. When she removed her restricting digit Harry leaned forward and placed a kiss on her lips. "Thank you for understanding."

Hermione rested her head on Harry's shoulder as the golden sun continued to set. They sat in silence enjoying the small pleasure to be gained from observing the sunset. Hermione thought back a year to the summer before their sixth year. She had sat on a similar hill just outside the Burrow.

It was two weeks before school began, Hermione had been invited to come and finish out their vacation with Ron and his family. Harry had been invited as well but it looked unlikely that he would be able to make it; convincing Dumbledore to let him leave the safety wards present at the Dursleys was proving to be more than difficult. Hermione had needed to escape the bustle of the burrow, so different from her own home, two nights after she had arrived.

A myriad of questions flitted through her mind, the past school year had been trying on the young woman. Her feelings were in chaos and staying at the Weasleys had not helped this problem. She had finally admitted it to herself while traveling with her parents through Greece earlier that summer, she had 'had feelings' for her best friend for the past two years. While that might have been a simple enough prospect for most girls, for Hermione, whom had two male best friends it was less than clear-cut. Harry and Ron both occupied large portions of her heart. It was this dilemma that currently perplexed Hermione.

Ron, the stupid git, she mused, seemed oblivious to all things not Chudley. She for the first time was having trouble reading the boy. Frustration at the complications hormones and 'growing up' caused in friendships seethed through her body. She had always been attracted to the temperamental redhead. She loved his passion, the caring side he often tried to hide under a tough exterior, which always appeared especially when it came to family. But he was Ron, obsessed with quidditch, unwilling to study as much as he needed to, and derived all to much please in finding her last nerve and working his way onto it.

Harry on the other hand, was the boy everyone loved, well except Draco Malfoy, but as far as Hermione was concerned it was best that way. Harry who had been through so much, still found a way to laugh and remain faithful to his friends. She knew this summer had been especially hard on Harry, The death of Sirius was devastating to Harry, he had lost not only his godfather, but a confidant, a father-figure and his link to his parents. Being trapped at the Dursleys, despite their improved treatment, was torture. Hermione had made a point to contact him frequently, there was so much pain trapped inside of him she feared its consequences. His messy black hair appealed to her as well as his troubled eyes. But there was a part of Harry that always seemed closed off, that he wouldn't let anyone into. That troubled Hermione, as much as she desired to be the one to reach him, she also knew she couldn't stand to be cut off from him so.

A light wind whipped her hair about her face, and obscured the sound of approaching footsteps. A prickle caused the hairs along the back of her neck to stand up. Alerted Hermione swiveled her head around. Before her stood a bedraggled Harry Potter, his hair and glasses askew and surprisingly his eyes glistening with what Hermione suspected was tears.

That was how it all had begun she thought on a summer eve, much like the one she currently was enjoying.

Of course there was much more to it, but the buzz of an incessant gnat distracted her thoughts, Hermione raised her head slowly from her makeshift pillow.

"Harry?"

"Hmmm..." he roused himself from his thoughts.

"How are you doing? Really don't sugarcoat anything for my sake." Hermione stared pointedly at Harry. It had only been a few days since the battle ended.

Harry sighed he knew that eventually she would ask such a question, he still didn't know how to answer it but he would do the best that he could. "To be honest I don't know how to answer that question and I don't know when I will be able to. I sit here and all I can think of are all those who died, everyone I was unable to save. I don't know what the next few weeks, months, or years will hold. I keep telling myself to take it one day at a time, and that with distance things will come into perspective, but quite frankly my patience has run thin. I don't have it in me to see how things play out, I'm sick of waiting for things to happen to me." Harry ran agitated fingers through his hair.

Hermione sat in silence for a few moments while she ingested what he told her. "It is perfectly normal for you to think about all those that died, every time I close my eyes I think of Voldemort's body lying at your feet as I ran to you... it was horrifying I can't even begin to understand how you are able to cope with everything that happened. You are the most amazing man I've ever met, and you must remember that you did not cause anyone's death." Hermione unable to look at his ravaged features anymore quickly pulled him into an embrace. She rubbed his back soothingly.

"It was just so hard today sitting with Ron, knowing that Percy was dead, and knowing that Ron had no idea. It nearly killed me to banter with him like everything was normal. In fact I'm not certain that Ron prefers it that way, he seemed to sense the awkwardness of the situation as well..."

"I know I felt it too, but as much as everything has changed, we are all still best friends, and we can't let all humor and happiness be driven from our lives, then He has won."

Harry pulled back and lowered a kiss onto her upturned nose. "When did you get so smart?"

"I dunno, I read it in a book somewhere..."

"HARRY...HERMIONE..." A shout echoed off the surrounding hills.

"Yes Remus... We're coming in." Harry responded to the dark silhouette that stood atop the hill nearest the house.

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The shrill report from the kettle accompanied by the scrape of a chair interrupted the lazy conversation that wafted across the cozy kitchen table. The blonde head of Remus Lupin quickly reached the squalling teapot and poured three steaming cups. Remus still looked tired, battles and full moons had taken their toll on the man. A smile spread across his tanned face as he thought on his joy that the battles were over and that Harry could finally make a home in Godric's Hollow. He was also pleased that Harry had asked him to stay at his home, although it still pained him that the spot ought to have been filled by his close friend. He would do his best to be there for the boy as Sirius would have wanted him to be.

Remus sat the tea down in front of the two young people who immediately reached for the accoutrements.

"Are you sure I can't interest you in something to eat... I know I'm late but..." Remus implored looking at Harry who seemed to be growing thinner every time he looked at him.

Harry smiled at Remus desire to plump him up reminding him oh so much of Mrs. Weasley. "No Remus, I can assure you we more than filled up at the Weasley's today. I never knew Charlie could cook as well as he does, apparently comfort food runs in the family."

Remus frowned. "How is Mrs. Weasley doing? I can only imagine how hard it must be for her."

Hermione lowered her head in condolence. "She was in bed the whole time we were there apparently an earlier visit from Professor Dumbledore had upset her."

"Hard to imagine Dumbledore upsetting anyone, but I suppose if I had one son recovering from a full body bind, another dead and my daughter..." Remus paused not sure how to continue. "My only daughter...well missing."

With a snap Harry raised his head from his steaming cup of tea, which he had been attempting to disappear into. Good Gods, Ginny! What had become of the girl? Come to think of it he hadn't even seen her leave the Voldemort's hideout at the end of the battle. A sudden wave of guilt swept through Harry causing his spine to tingle. Hermione sitting next to him sensed his sudden ill ease. How could I have forgotten her, regardless of what was said how could I have failed to even look for her after the battle. Hermione placed her hand on Harry's forearm attempting to sooth him. She's why... emotions that Harry couldn't discern filled his mind as he stared at Hermione's hazel eyes. Bits of love for her, anger that she made him forget his best friends only sister, guilt for having done so. Harry shook his head in a physical attempt to rid himself of his thoughts.

"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione's puzzled eyes questioned his actions, as Remus looked on thoughtfully.

"Fine, fine... I was just thinking. I'm sad to say I hadn't even thought about Ginny, what with the loss of Percy and Ron's injury."

"Neither had I." Hermione concurred with Harry. "It is to be expected after all, with the chaos of the battle and the disorder that has continue to follow, plus you know she may have wanted…"

Harry cut Hermione off, "that is no excuse for forgetting a girl who was supposed to be our friend!" Harry slammed his fist down in anger rattling the china cups that rested there long forgotten. "We can't condemn her yet…"

"Harry" Remus began, "Don't blame yourself, there were many wizards there, with just as much responsibility to look for her. If it makes you feel better I have heard word from Dumbledore that she made it out alive. Past that, I have no idea. Remember Harry too much has happened in a short period of time for you to be able to keep track of it all."

Harry sat silently for a moment regaining his composure. Hermione, who had yet to relate her entire captive experience sought to change the topic quickly. She desired both to help Harry as well as fend off her own demons, "Speaking of which Remus, where's Tonks?"

"I left her at the Ministy, filling out some tedious paperwork. She promised she would be home in a few hours." A dreamy sort of smile graced the werewolf's features. "That does remind me Harry, there was a large meeting today while I was at the Ministry. They decided to proceed with the trial to clear Sirius's name." Remus paused allowing time for Harry to comment if he felt the need to. "Arthur proposed the idea before the war began and they now agree that trial is more than needed and Sirius deserves a public memorial"

Harry's immediate reaction was muddled, while he was sad to be reminded of the loss, he was also angry that Sirius was betrayed in such a manner to begin with, and finally a sense of rightness overwhelmed the other emotions. Harry smiled, his anger and frustration beginning to ebb slightly, this was right and deserved.

With a content expression wrought from the happiness he was finding at Godric's Hollow and his new family Harry replied, "when does the trial begin?"

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What started as a low moan resulted in a shrill cry, which quickly awoke Draco.

Gods he thought Will the girl ever get a full nights rest.

He didn't know how she was expected to heal if she kept tossing through these nightmares. He placed a hand on her small shoulder to still her movements. Per routine, she would attempt to trash for a few more minutes, voice several demons and then quiet down for another hour or so.

"Gods... No... Tom, why?... No" Ginny choked off a few snippets of conversation. She had yet to reveal, through her subconscious, what exactly had happened to her over the summer, but each night Draco was able to piece more and more together. "Leave her, no don't touch her... take me..."

Now that was new Draco thought who was she...was it Hermione or some other girl that was a victim of Voldemort.

Her body stilled and Draco released the pressure on her shoulders preparing for her to resume sleeping. Instead though two eyes stared up at Draco's own. They blinked removing the sheen of pain-induced tears.

"Awake are we?" Draco quietly whispered to the injured girl.

She blinked twice in response, a wary light entering her eyes.

"I thought we went over this, I'm not going to hurt you" Draco smiled down at her, he couldn't really expect her to trust him yet, but there wasn't much he could do, except attempt to reassure her.

Draco turned to his left grabbing the small brown bottle Aesa had left him. It was almost gone. Not that it mattered Draco thought after all the girl had yet to have a dreamless, painless spot of sleep.

Ginny watched Draco's movements through slitted eyes, the pain in her abdomen was nearly unbearable, but she supposed it was marginally better than the last time she awoke. Draco had been there as well, he must be caring for her. A multitude of questions threatened to overtake her, but Draco's presence beside her with a glass of water halted their progress.

"Would you like some water?"

Ginny slowly nodded her head, understanding that she would have to trust him to a certain degree. After all he professed that he wouldn't hurt her and obviously she was in no position to counter that.

With a minimum of spillage Ginny gulped down some water, Draco turned to her again with the small brown bottle.

Draco was shocked to see a small shaking hand still his hand holding the sleeping potion. Ginny was stared at the bottle he was holding.

This much be the potion that's making me sleep, she surmised. She welcomed a repast from the pain, but she the questions that had been momentarily stalled were still present and demanded her attention.

"Where..." Her voice cracked with disuse. "Where am I?"

Draco looked down at Ginny, not sure whether to be shocked that she was questioning him or not. Draco decided to answer honestly as long as he didn't reveal the details Aesa had warned him against.

"My bed..." Draco paused enjoying the shock that was written into her eyes. "You are at Malfoy manner." He clarified.

Ginny paused thinking over his answer. Draco unscrewed the cap to the potion; ready to forestall any questioning that went to far.

"How long have I been hurt?" She continued.

"You've been here three and a half days. My doctor has been tending your wounds, he's the best doctor money can buy." Draco grimaced at his automatic slur on wealth. Ginny seemed not to notice or not to care and continued on with questioning. "Where is my family, why am I here with you?" The questions seemed to tumble out of her mouth.

Draco poured a portion of the sleeping draft. "That's enough for now, the doctor wants you resting for a bit longer yet." Draco put a finger on her chin and effectively slid the medicine down her throat. Ginny sputtered at the treatment and glared indigently at Draco.

"But... But I'm not done asking questions, I need to know where my famil..." Ginny trailed off as the powerful potion took control.

Draco stroked her long red hair away from her face and looked mournfully at her now benign features. He had enjoyed the spark of indignation that had lit her topaz eyes, but the plantive sadness that drained her features when she asked of her family bothered Draco, something inside of him moved at the sight of her pain. He whispered a quick sorry, sorry that he had to sneak the medicine down her throat, sorry that he couldn't answer the questions she rightfully deserved answers to, and sorry for the pain that had been inflicted upon her.

With that he whispered nox and left the room needing to get out in the little time he knew he had, before she awoke again.

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Again a big thanks for reviewing

5. Remembering What is Familiar

Chapter 5

Remembering What is familiar

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack

Thanks for reviewing all - and sorry it takes me so damn long to update

It was an unusually gray morning for late August in Ottery St. Catchpole, yet it seemed fitting to the day and not out of the ordinary. A black ministry vehicle rumbled down the long dirt road that led to a ramshackle old house. The vehicle came to an abrupt halt, obviously not captained by an experienced driver. Somewhat like a clown car, producing far more occupants than it appeared able. The somber ministry vehicle revealed 6 weary redheads.

Mr. Weasley emerged first from the drivers sear, he quickly make his way around the car to help his wife from the passenger seat. Both looked much older than they had a mere six months ago… Both sported black robes and new gray hairs on their heads. From the back 5 younger Weasleys emerged, all just as reticent. Charlie, a tad shorter than his other brothers, but roughly hewn led the procession into the house. He was followed quickly by his older brother Bill whose long hair was queued. Charlie caught the door and allowed his parents, Arthur with his arm wrapped around Molly’s waist, in first. The twins, Fred and George, did not dally like they were known to do, but followed suit and offered to take their parents robes from them. Ron the youngest was the last to enter, not only because of his lingering injury – he was mostly recovered just incredibly stiff and sore, but because he was still in a bit of a shock.

Dear God Ron thought That was it, it was official. He had lost a brother; Percy was gone, just like that.

He hadn’t had time to assimilate everything, after all he had only been told last night, the remnants of the Body Binding curse he had been subjected to had finally worn off, and after a slow but steady circle of the house they had broke the news to him. It was what Ron had feared while he lay trapped in his bed for the three days following the battle. There were still many unanswered questions running through Ron's head, yet life was moving on without him it seemed.

Gods school started in barely two weeks time. But he supposed it was good to return some normalcy to life, when all else was in utter chaos.

Skirting the porch Ron circled the house working his muscles out after the long car ride from the gravesite. He ran his fingers through his mused red hair letting out a pent up sigh. As relieved s he was that the long fight was over and that Voldemort had been vanquished, he would give anything to return to boy he had been barely a year ago. He would sell his soul to be the boy whose biggest problem was reconciling his unrequited love for one of his best friends. But that boy was gone, too much had happened. That boy had witnessed too much death, killed too many and experienced too much personal tragedy.

Arthur placed his hands on either side of the sink as the kettle filled and watched his youngest son stroll through the back yard, pausing at the tire swing that hung from an aged apple tree.

“Fred!”

“Yeah Dad…” A red headed skinny young man entered the cluttered kitchen.

“Can you finish this tea? I need to talk to Ron”

“Sure… and I promise that there will be no green haired Weasley's after this batch of tea.” Fred grinned at his father as he reached for the full kettle and headed toward the stovetop.

A small smile crept onto Arthur’s face as he regarded his son. “Thanks Fred, we will be in soon, make sure your mother gets a up of tea.”

Arthur slowly made his way to his son who now sat on the wooden planked seat swinging slightly. His legs were now much too long for the toy; they scraped along the dirt with each pass.

“Dad… I miss them.” Ron raised watery blue eyes up to his father.

Hs father approached and placed a comforting hand on Ron’s shoulder. “So do I, Gods so do I.”

They continued to sit in silence for some time both regaining control of their emotions.

“It was so surreal today” Ron began, needing to voice some of his anguish and confusion. “I was saying goodbye to a brother; I never thought I would have to do that. And I seem to have lost a sister, what’s happening to our family?”

Arthur sighed again, “I don’t know son, I don’t know. I can tell you this we are still a family and will always be a family. Percy may be gone, but he will always be with us." Arthur stood up and began to pace a small circle, with small agitated steps.

"He will be in every memory, and in everyone’s heart. He gave his life to fight the greatest evil, and to protect his family. So while he can no longer be with us physically, I’d like to think that he will be with us, protecting us.” Mr. Weasley finished off.

“But” Ron raised his eyes and his arm to halt his father's movement. Ron looked his father directly in the eye. “What about Ginny, we are missing part of our family and yet nobody seems able or willing to address it.

Arthur sighed, he had been expecting such a question from one of his sons, and ironically he knew Percy would have been the first to ask, but that was neither here nor there. Instead the question came from Ron, perhaps because he had so much time abed to contemplate, perhaps because they were closest in age. Regardless it was time, for what he knew to be surfaced.

“I don’t know where she is Ron, but I do know she is alive, injured but living.”

Ron’s face began to heat, reddening. “She’s hurt… then why… why isn’t she with us good gods, where is she?” Ron sputtered.

“Professor Dumbledore informed me during his visit that she was too ill to move at the moment, but that she was being well cared for. I would trust that man with my life and the lives of my children, which is what apparently what I have to do.” Arthur sighed again, the exhaustion of the day beginning to take its toll. “Albus said he would stop by later today and let me know when my baby is coming home.”

Arthur rose slowly and rubbed his tired eyes, “If you could come in soon I’m sure your mother would like to sit with you, this has been exceptionally hard on her.”

Ron slowly followed the figure of his father inside the Burrow. Its been hard on you too Dad

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"Yes Harry" Professor Dumbledore ushered in the young man that stood quietly in the doorway, while remaining seated away from the door.

"How did you know I was there" Harry questioned as he entered pausing to stroke the brilliant feathers of Fawkes.

"My Inner eye of course" Dumbledore smiled at the shock that was written all over Harry's face. "I shall miss Sybil. She was a bit fantastic but she loved her abilities and used them to her utmost. Sadly it was those very abilities that caused her demise." Dumbledore paused for a moment, "What can I do for you? Lemon drop?" an aged hand extended with a small yellow candy offered.

"No thank you, the house elves just filled me to the brim, Gods everyone wants to feed me!" Harry absently rubbed his hand across his somewhat abused stomach. Harry took a seat across from his headmaster, who now felt much more like a friend and ally. "I can't really put into words why I am here..." Harry ran a troubled hand through his unruly black hair. "Especially after Percy’s funeral today I felt like I needed to get back to something familiar, everything is out of sorts and I just needed some normalcy. For whatever reason this is where my heart told me to come."

Dumbledore studied the boy, no man who sat before him, "Well Harry I think you have discovered why I have insisted upon resuming the school year as soon as possible, I think everyone needs to return to something familiar, you are not alone in your feelings. To many Hogwarts was a safe haven, we did our best to protect and to prepare you children throughout the conflict.”

Harry turned his head toward the large stained glass window that was situated to the left of Dumbledore’s desk. It depicted a phoenix rising, in brilliant yellows, reds and oranges. Below the fiery bird was a mosaic of dark blues, greens and purples. Harry stared at the mix of colors that represented the ashes, losing himself in their depths.

“Harry…” Professor Dumbledore began, “Nothing was your fault, you cannot be held accountable for the choices of others. The threads of fate are strong, you did what you could.”

Harry was pulled from his revelry. “But I can be held accountable for my actions, rather my inability to save so many lives. I just can’t stop thinking about those that lost their lives because of me, because of Voldemort's desire to kill me and to reign supreme. Gods I was unable to help Percy, Lavender, so many others. What happened to Ginny? It was so hard to watch their family today at the funeral, mourning for their fallen son and brother, with their only sister absent.”

"Trust me Harry, Ginny is safe, she is recovering from the battle.”

Harry sat in silence, what could make her not attend the funeral of her own brother, how could she not have come to her family after such an event. Hell Hermione had come running as if the fires of hell were nipping at her heels at the culmination of the fight.

Dumbledore continued, “Unfortunately her injuries were too severe to allow her to attend the funeral.”

Harry started at that bit of knowledge Ginny was injured Gods what kind of sick bastard was he to automatically jump to the conclusion that there was a more sinister reason for her absence.

“On another note, I didn’t see Hermione today, is everything okay?” Dumbledore questioned Harry, had Harry been more observant he would have noticed the knowing glint in the professor’s eyes.

Harry refocused at the change in topic. “She was a bit emotional at the whole proceeding. It was especially hard since her parents finally got out of the hospital. She ended up staying with them since her mother is still fairly ill.”

“Ah yes, I was glad to hear that they were being released from the hospital, organizing the recovery from his attack on the tube was near impossible.”

Dumbledore rose with his last statement, “Well Mr. Potter, I am glad you came to talk to me, you shall see that things, as tired as the muggle cliché may be, things will get better with time. I am afraid I must be off I believe I have an appointment.”

“Professor” Harry stalled Dumbledore’s exit “Where is she… I … I would like to see her.”

“I’m afraid that disclosing her location would only harm her and her family more, especially with the loss of Percy. I promise you though she is in good hands and as soon as she is stabilized she will return home.”

“What do you mean only harm her…?” Harry quickly stood up and went to follow the professor and continue questioning him only to find Fawkes preventing him from reaching the stairway. Knowing he was beaten Harry sunk into a nearby sofa. How would her family be hurt by her location… unless…. Unless… She was with Malfoy! That bastard was responsible for Percy’s death. Harry had watched Lucius point his wand and with the customary smirk maliciously utter Avada Kedarva and smirk as the lifeless body of the redhead sunk to the ground.

Anger welled up within Harry. How could she be with him, his father killed her own brother. Anger clouding his mind and unable to see any other explanations, Harry seethed off prepared to take himself to Malfoy manner and talk to Ginny Weasley himself.

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Draco held the sleeping form of Ginny Weasley. The doctor had just left after a final examination. It had been a long exam, hell it had been a long day. The chit had barely gotten any rest, and consequently neither had he, with every few hours interrupted by her nightmares. The examination had been especially trying on Ginny this morning, she had shed her first conscious tears as Aesa was finished tending to her wounds. As Aesa left he informed Draco that he and Dumbledore would be deciding when Ginny would be returning to her family, later that evening and he would get back to him by owl with further instructions.

Ginny had fallen into a restless sleep as he and Aesa talked in the corridor. When he re-entered the suite, fragments of her memories began to make themselves heard. She emited whimpers of pain as she tossed her tender body around the bed. Unable to stand watching her quake and just desperate to see her sleep as much for her own well being as his own, he resorted to gathering her slight form and holding her.

Draco, rather uncertain about the whole “comforting” concept did what he could; looking back to all the mothers he had ever seen with their children. He stretched out on the silken sheets next to her, ignored her plain white nightgown and placed her head on his chest, he stroked her tangled hair and murmured what he thought were soothing condolences. Whatever it was that he was doing seemed to be working, she finally quieted down and fell into a restful sleep.

Aesa had told Draco that he was worried about her inability to remember what had happened; he felt that it was crucial that she gain knowledge of what had happened before she returned to her family. He worried that it would be too traumatic on her to have everything, including the death of her brother, told to her in such a manner.

If her dreams were any indication, the events of this summer were near to the surface. Draco still was unable to put together the entire puzzle, but he was close. He had discerned that she was forced somehow off the train, that she was trying to save someone (presumably Granger), Potter came up repeatedly in her ramblings but Draco chose not to dwell on that, and that Tom, as she referred to him, had changed and utterly terrified her.

Draco held her sleeping form; his hand had slowed its gentle sweep and rested on her back. A near smile graced his features as he began to drift off.

The loud reverberation of a door being swung open startled Draco out of his rest.

His exhaustion must have dulled his senses; normally such an intrusion would have awakened him long ago.

The door to his chambers was swept open and standing, shaking with anger, was his nemesis himself, Potter!

Roderick the house elf was at his heels barking that Harry Potter cannot just barge into Master Draco’s suite; he must await a proper invitation.

“Well what have we here…” Harry’s voice dripped with scorn

“Hello, Potter fancy seeing you here, did you happen to be in the neighborhood? Did the mudblood let you off your chain for the evening?”

Draco could not help but bait the young man standing arms akimbo in his doorway; you did not just barge into a Malfoy’s private quarters. If it hadn’t been for the sleeping female in his arms, Draco would have physically removed him.

“Shut it Malfoy.” Harry advanced into the room his ire rising, along with the volume of his voice. “What the fuck are you doing with her?” Venom practically dripped from his mouth as he surveyed the cozy scene on the bed.

“Well with Pansy in Azkaban I needed a quick lay and you know a Weasley will do anything for the right price... You prat can’t you tell she’s injured. Now if you would keep your voice down, she needs to rest.” Draco ran a soothing hand along Ginny’s back as she began to stir; she began making small sounds in response to noises.

Harry still seeing red from Malfoy’s innuendo regarding Ginny and prostitution advanced on Draco. He slapped his hand away from Ginny and went to grab her.

Ginny’s eyes fluttered open at the removal of Draco’s touch. The advancing figure of Harry filled her vision; his swirling traveling cloak enveloped her. Her heartbeat began to rise as fear set in. She could sense his anger and unaware of whom it was directed at, in her semi-awake state she began to panic.

“No… No don’t touch me…. No Gods!” Harry stalled momentarily at her words.

“You sick bastard" he turned to Draco, "what did you do to her?”

“I did nothing you wanker. Get off her can’t you see she’s panicking. If you give me a minute I will explain everything.”

“No I will not, obviously you have hurt her, I am taking her back to her family. Hasn’t your family done enough to the Weasley’s isn’t killing one enough.”

Harry bent down again to pick Ginny up, when she lost all control. Ginny became a whirlwind of red hair and flailing limbs.

“Tom, why are you doing that, it hurts…You said you loved me ...I always will love him… don’t hurt me again, don’t touch me…” What began as coherent speech and fast moving limbs ended in pitiful screaming, tears, and the limp acquiescence of her body.

Draco stared in silence for a moment, until her recognized that she had been conscious for the entire event, she finally remembered. It had taken the insensitive presence of Potter to trigger the memory, but he had done it.

Draco rose quickly from the bed, pushing a stunned Harry toward the door.

”Get out… Get out now.” Harry in his shocked state seemed to oblige.

Draco turned back to the bed, and sighed in acceptance of the task at hand.

I promise more will be revealed soon, please read and review let me know what you think! Thanks

6. Demons

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the creations of JK Rowling,

I have finally revised the previous chapters to fall inline with Book 5, I also took into account some reviews and integrated the comments. Thanks for the help! Now on with the new segment!!!

Chapter 6 – Demons

The amber liquid swirled around the snifter reflecting the thoughts that flew through its consumers mind. Draco lifted the glass to his nose and inhaled the rich scent of the brandy he held. The aromatic liquor momentarily calmed his senses and lifted the burden from his shoulders.

Draco sat indolently his long legs crossed and his free arm resting across the length of a brocade loveseat in his study. Across an old-world coffee table and partaking in a snifter of brandy as well sat Albus Dumbledore.

"Excellent Brandy Draco, I commend your tastes."

“Thank you Professor, it was difficult to become a connoisseur when one had to smuggle in what he could get his hands on."

"Well you did quite well for yourself I must say." Dumbledore paused and sipped the clear liquid, ruminating over its quality and over the boy sitting across from him.

He is still Draco, Dumbledore thought. He still possessed that innate arrogance that his father and grandfather before him had possessed. Dumbledore studied the boy’s eyes; they were the crystalline gray that ran in the Malfoy bloodline, yet they were different than his fathers. Lucius had possessed (it was odd now referring to Lucius in the past tense he thought) sharp clear gray eyes. They were enigmatic, never revealing emotion, except perhaps a glint of pleasure and cruelty. He was cold and had tried to instill the same qualities in his son.

Draco's eyes, as schooled as he was in emotional concealment glinted with suppressed emotion, which perhaps was the difference between the generations. Draco had chosen differently than his father, he had shown an inner strength that still amazed Dumbledore in his desire to not become the man his father was. Perhaps it was Narcissa that had provided this quality in Draco. Despite her vanity and flighty nature, she had been a good woman who loved her son to distraction. Perhaps she had been the final straw for the younger Malfoy.

Dumbledore ruminated over how he would begin his conversation with his companion. But Draco typical to his temperment was not one for dealing with anothers attempts at delicacy. He only beat around the bush when it served his purposes. He truly was a Slytherin.

"Well I know it wasn't my excellent supply of Brandy that brought you to Malfoy Manor Professor. So if I may ask, what are you doing here?" Daco stared boldly at his aged professor.

Well... well... well.... Young Malfoy, we certainly have grown up Dumbledore thought. Not about to be ordered about by one of his students, Dumbledore set about his agenda along his own terms, not that of Draco.

Dumbledore paused and again sipped the brandy that he held before him.

“As you may know, school is scheduled to continue as planned, I firmly believe that a return to normalcy is what is best for all, following the tragic events of the war."

Draco stared at his professor neither agreeing nor disagreeing with his statement.

Dumbledore continued, "Now this does not mean that the past will be casually glossed over or forgotten, rather it will be memorialized and recognized. You play an important role in that Draco, just as you played an important role in the resistance. For that when school begins I would like to make a formal recognition of your feats to the student body."

Draco sat in silence at the conclusion of the Professors speech. His immediate reaction was violent. He did not want to be glorified for killing his father, somehow receiving glory for an act that was tearing him apart did not seem right. He was not looking for the respect and understanding of his school peers; such shallow acceptance was unnecessary and seemed pathetic to Draco. He was not Potter in search of fame, relishing in his title of Saint Potter - saving all that is good!

"No" He finally repsonded.

Dumbledore watched Draco waiting for more, his eyes seemed to hold an explanation

"I do not want any recognition for my... acts. All I ask is that you inform the students that I was not a Death Eater or a follower of Voldemort. My actions are my own and shall be kept that way." Draco spoke with the authority of his ancestors.

Dumbledore smiled he would be a man to be reckoned with, that was assured. At that moment he knew leaving the young Miss Weasley with him had been the right choice.

Dumbledore sat in silence for a moment taking in Dracos response, planning his next statement, chatting with young Mr. Malfoy had turned into a chess game.

"Consider it done, I respect your choice and the consequences are yours to deal with. Moving on, normally you would receive this information by owl, but I see no reason not to tell you as I sit here. I have the honor of informing you that for the next school year you have been granted the honor of being Head Boy."

Draco stared open mouthed for a moment, almost losing his infamous composure. Gods, Head Boy!

Dumbledore rustled around in a pocket on his voluminous robes and extracted a small letter waxed close with the Hogwart’s seal. "I believe this is yours."

Draco's fingers slowly closed around the parchment offered to him. He wanted to reject it to throw it back in Dumbledore's face laughing all the while. What was this, some sort of pathetic olive branch, offered in compensation for the travesty that had occurred. How dare they offer him that reward! He despised what their cause had made him do. He had murdered the man that gave him life. Albeit there was little love lost, but a strong sense of familial loyalty, that was ingrained since birth in Draco had been destroyed. Such a disruption put the cosmos askance for Draco, and this was to be rectified by the honor of being a leader of his peers and a role model.

While Draco seethed in anger over that another thought crept into his mind that was equally as disturbing. A small voice in the back of his head mocked... This is exactly what your father would have wanted of you to achieve. An even crueler mocking voice added perhaps that would have made him love you.

Draco immediately shut his mind off to the ramblings that threatened to overrule his subconscious, and focused on opening the letter in front of him. He knew he would accept it, despite his anger and confusion; his pride was too great to refuse. This was something Potter couldn’t have,. Satisfying thought of revenge flitted through his mind, his anger at Harry was beyond reason. How dare he show up in his home and accost him, and Ginny in such a manner. Beyond his thoughts of retribution, his inner monologue piped up and reminded him that perhaps this would be good for him, that the fates had a plan for him. Despite his lack of faith in the world, he could not shake the feeling that he must accept the badge gleaming gold in his palm.

“I’ll take it” Draco finally responded to his headmaster. “I get my own room correct?”

Dumbledore chuckled at his response, “Of course you do, although you will have to share a lavatory with the head girl.”

“And that would be? Although I hardly think it is a question.” Draco sneered.

“It is Hermione Granger, as I am sure you expected.” Dumbledore set his now empty snifter of Brandy down. “You have run neck in neck with her for top marks for the past few years.”

Bloody Hell! Sharing anything with Granger would be a trial. But Draco was sure that it would only enhance his repertoire of mocking commentary. “Yes… Yes… as I thought.” Draco responded.

Feeling that the game had run its course Dumbldore moved into position. “I had another purpose for visiting you Draco.” Dumbledore continued, “I came to inquire over Miss Weasley’s condition. I have word that she has regained her memory”

Draco had been anticipating and was almost shocked that it took him this long to get to his main point. But he knew Dumbledore was a shrewd man, beyond his comprehension.

“Yes she has, Potter…” Harry’s name rolled off Draco’s tongue dripping with scorn. “stormed into my chambers this morning, accusing me of mistreating her and demanding that she come home with him. When grabbed for Ginny, it triggered something and much of her memory came back.”

“Much?” Dumbledore questioned.

“Not everything has been restored.” Draco began, “She remembers what happened, but not all the details are present. I hazard to say that such incidents as the one with Potter will continue to trigger her memory.”

“What were the memories of young Miss Weasley?” Dumbledore asked almost absentmindedly. It was as if he already knew what he was going to be told, and still didn’t want to hear it.

Draco’s eyes became hooded as he began to recite his memories from the morning’s events.

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Harry fell back silently from the room, his mouth gaping like a fish at the outburst from the redhead that lay before him. Draco glared at him for a moment, but quickly turned his attention to the patient in his bed.

Ginny’s breathing had become shallow and quick in the aftermath of her outburst. Her eyes remained large and stared pointedly at the ceiling. Draco slowly approached the bed, in an effort to prevent further frightening her.

He hadn’t a clue how to begin, what to say, what to do. Aesa had mentioned that when she regained her memory it would probably be a traumatic event for her, but that she needed to experience it.

“Weasley…Ginny” He corrected himself”

Her eyes slowly rolled over to his face, acknowledging his presence. They stayed that way for a space of minutes, until Ginny with a raspy pained voice broke the silence. “The child is gone”

Draco was unable to determine whether it was a question or a statement she posed, so he nodded in agreement. Ginny’s eyes again returned to the ceiling.

”I still don’t understand why I am here?” She purposefully glossed over her previous statement.

”As I said before, at the end of the battle all the medi-staff was occupied so I brought you here.” Draco replied short with frustration, he wasn’t sure how to proceed, she had obviously remembered but seemed adamant in ignoring that fact.

”That I understand, I’m injured not dumb. But what I do not understand is why I am in the house of a Death Eater.”

Her voice was hard, yet weariness laced her every word. Her statement with its venomous reference to Lord Voldemort’s followers erased any notion that she had joined their minions from his mind.

You aren’t…” He wanted to leave it at that, he hated this feeling of obligation to explain himself that arose inside as he looked down at Ginny. Her face was pale but her cheeks had reddened with exertion. “I am not a Death Eater…”

Ginny interrupted him immediately, “But you are, I have seen the mark on your arm, I heard Tom er… Voldemort talk about your correspondence. He said you helped release your father from Azkaban.”

”If you would let me finish young Weasley, you would have heard that I am not a Death Eater in the conventional way. I was working with Dumbledore as a spy for the light. Yes I did correspond with Lord Voldemort , and unfortunately I did aid in my fathers release from Azkaban.” Draco spat his fathers name out, and grimaced in memory.

Ginny paused taking in what was just said, she once again turned her eyes back to Draco, as if in acceptance of his explanation. “Who was here earlier… with the robes?” A shiver ran through Ginny’s body at her mention of the robes.

Draco noted her reference to Potters clothes, that must have been what triggered her memory. “That was Potter, he came to remove you from my ‘evil’ clutches.”

An indescribable look crossed over Ginny’s features at the mention of Harry. “He came to take me away?…”She uttered the statement with awe in her voice. Her eyes shone brightly, then clouded over quickly with what seemed to be anger. Draco followed the range of emotions that graced her features, intrigued by their number, visibility and quick progression.

A small knock at the door interrupted the pair. Roderick appeared with a fresh pitcher of water, and a small plate of crackers and cheese.

“I thought young master and the miss might need some refreshment.”

“Thank you Roderick. I will ring if any more service is required.” Draco accepted the plate and set it on the bed near Ginny, “help yourself”

After a brief struggle with the sheets and her atrophied muscles Ginny worked her way upright and sampled some of the food and water. It had been a good deal of time since she had eaten, yet she wasn’t hungry too many memories robbed her of an appetite.

Draco quickly became impatient with the situation, he tried to quell his natural instinct to press her for information. He could not expect her to spill her every secret to a veritable stranger. He glanced over at the Ginny to see silent tears streaming down her face.

“Ginny…Ginny do you..”He still wasn’t sure how to proceed.

Draco was saved from further fumbling by Ginny who turned her tear streaked face toward him and began spewing words, and snippets of memory.

“He came, but it was too late… too damn late.” It took Draco a moment, but he realized that she was referring to Potter. “He didn’t come when Crabbe was forcing me to remove Hermione from the train, he didn’t come when they shackled me to the wall for weeks, he didn’t come for me when the battle was over, he didn’t come for me when Tom… when Tom beat me… when Tom beat and…” She couldn’t seem to get the last part of her thought into words; with that frustration she dissolved into sobs. Sobs that were far from the tears that had been previously coursing her face, these tears robbed her of coherent speech, shook her entire frame and doubled her over.

Draco was speechless in response, he did what shockingly came natural to him. He gathered her heaving form into his arms, trying to quiet her. He ran a hand up and down her back, stroked her hair and shhh’ed till he could not stand it anymore. “Ginny… Ginny you must stop crying now, you are only going to make yourself sick. Stop, please stop”

Draco was amazed at himself. Since when did a Malfoy ask anyone to do something nicely. He couldn't remember the last time he had used the word 'please'. Yet there was something instinctual about his behaviour with Ginny, something he often was forced to quell when he had been around his mother.

As her tears began to abate, she locked eyes with Draco. “Thank you, thank you for saving me, I remember you running up to me in Voldemorts cave, thank you for caring for me, and thank you for being here now.”

Draco was taken aback he had not been expecting that response, he had expected more avowals of his dark allegiance, perhaps more accusations of his intent to harm her, but not gratitude.

Ginny removed herself from his embrace and hiccupped occasionally as she straightened herself up and made to remove the signs of her distress. She stared at the boy…no he was definitely a man that sat next to her.

He was different, so incredibly different from her days in school with him. In school he had been a spiteful angry boy, but now and she recalled the few times she had awaken, he seemed concerned and there was a sad light to his eyes as he watched her move. She did not know his story, yet she was sure there was pain involved there had to be in order to change him from that boy into this man. It was that pain she knew they shared that allowed her to place her trust in Draco. Unsure of her surroundings and of what would happen next she knew she would have to relinquish some of her isolation to this man and it scared her.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Draco interrupted the silence, “I once heard that it is good to talk about things…” He ventured this advice uneasily, after all he was a Malfoy and it went against his every pretext, but he had once overheard someone give this tidbit of advice, and perhaps it would work.

Ginny stared at him trying to read his eyes for ulterior motives, and finding none she sighed. He was right, her mother had always said the same thing, telling somebody helped take the weight of it off your shoulders.

”I don’t even know where to begin…”

“I always found the beginning to be the best.” Draco smiled at her, a genuine smile of reassurance. That gesture broke her reserve and Ginny began to tell what she could remember.

She began where his understanding of the events left off. He had run into her, quite literally aboard the Hogwarts Express as she hurried toward the loo. There he had uttered a cryptic warning to her to watch out, and not to run off alone. She had promptly disregarded what he had to say and continued on her path to the lavatories. Draco had pressed her for the reason she was headed there, but Ginny successfully hedged an answer. It was there after their encounter that Crabbe had cornered her and hit with a stupefy curse.

Her next conscious memory was fuzzy, she could hear someone’s voice in her head telling her what to do, the voice was vaguely familiar and very convincing. Ginny had followed instructions and went in search of Hermione. She remembered convincing her that there was a special prefects meeting and that Ron, who had been sitting for the moment with Lavender, was already there and had sent Ginny to gather her.

With that knowledge Draco was certain that the Imperius curse had been used on Ginny, but how it was applied he was uncertain. He was positive that Crabbe was not strong enough to even attempt such a powerful spell. He kept his ruminations quiet as Ginny continued her recitation.

Much of her memories of the first weeks of her captivity were hazy. She remembered small snippets of actual happenings, such as being shackled to a wall, by two death eaters who taunted her verbally and with small bits of food. She remembered Hermione being kept in cell, but left unharmed. Mainly she recalled just her fear, it was palatable still. She was left in isolation for the most part told nothing, and she remembered the unending fear of what would happen next.

Ginny paused to take a sip of water, she was visibly drained from the days events. Draco studied her in silence, he should probably contact Aesa soon and let him know she had regained memory, but he felt there was something left that she still needed to purge before their conversation was over.

“Do you know what happened?” As Ginny asked the question, she locked her brandy colored eyes with his smoky ones.

“What? Do I know what happened in the battle?” Draco was unsure what to make of her question.

“No, what happened to me.” She watched his eyes, they were still clouded by confusion. Ginny sighed and continued, “I can remember generally what happened, but there are still large chunks of detail that are missing. I want to know what happened…” She trailed off for a moment, “but then again I wonder if I don’t remember then maybe I shouldn’t want to remember.”

Draco too sighed, he had never felt compassion for another human being before, but for this girl in front of him he began to feel sorrow. Sorrow that she would have to remember whatever tragic events had occurred. He also noted how incredibly wise she seemed, and sad that that intelligence was correct. “I know what you can tell me, and even if I knew I don’t think I would want to be the one to tell you.” Draco paused and began muttering, “Even I am not that cruel…”

Ginny raised her eyes from her glass of water, “What did you say?”

“What is the last thing you do remember?” Draco ignored her question.

“Fine, don’t answer….” Frustration overwhelmed Ginny momentarily. “Just like a Malfoy” she mumbled in response.

Draco smirked at her response, slightly miffed at her comeback, but more glad to see that she still had fight in her. “What did you say?” He mimicked.

“Oh shut it!” Ginny responded her cheeks high with color. “well at least I will have the common decency to respond to your question. As she began to speak again, the smile that had begun to light her features during their short banter fell away rapidly. One hand clenched the other as she tried to draw her knees into herself, but was stopped by pain.

“The last thing I do remember is being led to a room, this part is clear. The hall was dark and damp, we were obviously inside a cave or deep in some catacombs. Two men held my arms, they were the same two that shackled me. I had taken to calling them Crabbe Sr. and Goyle Sr, as they acted the same and had about the same intellegence. It must have been their job to guard me as they were constantly with me. We walked forever it seemed, my body ached incessantly. I had been shackled to the wall, arms raised, for weeks now, with only small respites. They finally stopped in front of a large wooden door with heavy iron hardware. Crabbe Sr. uttered a password I could not hear and we were ushered in by a very bedraggled house elf.”

“Goyle Sr. roughly pushed me into a large wooden chair. I remember being scared yet oddly resigned to whatever was going to happen, I think I had begun to loose hope that I would be rescued… foolish fanciful notion.” Bitterness edged into her voice, “A small man approached me from my right. He held a vial still steaming from the cauldron. I remember his voice, It was high-pitched and everything he uttered was infused with a whine. He told me to be a good little girl and drink up the whole potion. I wanted to protest, but the voice was back in my head telling me to do as he said and everything would be alright. It tasted awful, but went down. They left me then alone in the dark room. There was a single candle on the wall by a door, not the one I entered through, but across the way. I started to feel a bit fuzzy I was still aware of my surroundings I just started to care less for some reason, I assume it was something in the potion.” Ginny paused gulping in air, she was visibly shaking at this point, whatever her mind wanted to remember was physically straining her.

She continued, “This is where my memory fades. I remember the door creaking open, the door across from me and… and the light ceasing blocked by the form that emerged from the doorway.” She seemed to be lost in the memory for the moment, reliving it in her mind. “I gasped, and… and uttered ‘Tom!’ It stops there, from that point on, until seeing you running at me in his cave all I remember is pain, Merlin so much pain but that pain was overwhelmed by a feeling of numbness, complacency I didn’t care what happened anymore. I don’t think I do now…” Ginny trailed off exhausted. She slipped down the sheets, her head falling to the side and her eyes vacant. “I suppose you were right, I guess talking about it helps.” There was little conviction to her words, “Thank you for listening…”

Draco placed his hand on her hair, surprised to see a slight tremor in it, and smoothed her hair down. “It will help…eventually.” He could not back up his comment, but his instincts told him that it would.

As she drifted off to sleep he heard her mumble “It will help for you too.”

He stared in shock, Too wise, too wise he thought.

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Draco finished speaking and sipped from his snifter of Brandy allowing Professor Dumbledore to assimilate everything he had just been told.

Dumbledore appeared nonplussed but Draco knew that everything was hidden behind the professors implacable exterior. “Again I Thank you Draco, you have been of great service to young Miss Weasley. I will discuss the situation with Aesa and get back to you shortly. She should be able to return to her family soon.” Dumbledore rose, preparing to leave. “Congratulations as well”

Draco saw his headmaster out of his study and down the hall to where Roderick was waiting to escort him out. He remained in the doorway for several moments, shocked but yet not shocked. Nothing he had related to the old codger had seemed new to him, but then again Dumbledore was always that way. Draco supposed he would have to wait for an explanation. Merlin how he hated waiting for things on other peoples schedules!

Resigned to his fate, Draco with his every step betraying his weariness made his way to the bedroom to check on his ‘houseguest’, and perhaps get some sleep himself.

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Thank you all for the reviews!

7. Jam and Lemonade

Disclaimer: I once owned a sane mind, but then I thought moving to North Carolina for law school would be fun! : )

AN: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews!

Chapter 7 - Jam and Lemonade

The sun was warming her face, awakening her senses, as was the scent of strawberries. Ginny cracked an eye open and scanned her surroundings.

Yep, still here.

Draco Malfoy's elegant suite loomed around her, almost distracting her from the scents that had awoken her. Almost…but not quite…

On the nightstand to her right sat a small silver platter, mounded with warm toast and strawberry jam. A glass of pumpkin juice accompanied it.

Ginny stared at the food; much like her brothers she had always had a special affection for food. Granted she appreciated it in a slightly more refined manner than, say Ron, she still enjoyed food. Her stomach rumbled, voicing its agreement with the offerings of the platter. She ruminated, it had been quite some time since she had consumed anything of note, and for once her appetite seemed to be present. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth Ginny dove into the warm toasted bread and sweet jam.

Three pieces of toast, a glass of pumpkin juice and an angry look at the empty platter, Ginny sat back against her pillows. She hadn't been that hungry since last years sorting feast. Something about the Hogwarts Express always made her ravenous. Maybe it was the lengthy journey, perhaps the excitement, more likely it was the awful lunch Mum packed that Ginny always ignored, that caused her hunger.

Shifting the blankets around Ginny smiled mischievously at the crumbs that scratched her legs. Yes, they were uncomfortable but somehow the irritation that she knew they would cause Draco was more than enough to overcome her slight discomfort. She didn't know what it was about that boy. Despite his somewhat caring demeanor towards her, getting his goat still caused her pleasure. She rationalized that musing his "oh-so-precious" sheets was payment for the years he had mocked her. She had yet to live down "Your eyes are as green…" to this day!

She was in an oddly content mood. The sun was warming her, her stomach was pleasantly full and for the time being she was ignoring any unhappy thoughts.

Taking her time Ginny perused her quarters. Having been unconscious for the majority of her stay this was her first opportunity to study the room. Ginny had always conformed to the belief that how one presented a room could reveal a great deal about a person.

His room was large, that was to be expected. In fact Ginny estimated that she could have easily fit the upper portion of the burrow within his suite. Large windows graced the eastern side of the room, currently lighting the room with the morning sunlight. Long elegantly draped curtains framed all the windows in the room, lending it a finished quality. Obviously a decorator had worked long and hard in this room. A small sitting area lay between the bed and the entrance. A chaise lounge and armchair encircled a mahogany coffee table. The furniture was rich with forest green velvet, complementing the table well.

Atop the table was an empty platter; similar to the one Ginny had just cleared. This one contained the remains of eggs and bacon. Ginny's stomach rumbled in protest to her meager fare of toast.

Well it appears Draco just finished eating, lucky sod had eggs!

A framed photo on the nightstand not currently holding the remains of her breakfast caught her eye. The frame was antiqued silver and lovely. It was composed intricate vine work and punctuated with small flowers. The frame seemed too delicate for a boy's room. She couldn't imagine any of her brothers owning anything with something so feminine as a flower on it. But then again, Draco Malfoy and her brothers had little in common.

Rolling over onto her side Ginny looked closely at the photo. A slender woman stared back at her. She had long blonde hair that was swept up at the sides by jeweled combs. The woman possessed elegant patrician features on a face whose only flaw was that it was a touch long. Her eyes were a mesmerizing blue. Ginny had once seen a muggle brochure of the beaches of the Caribbean; this woman's eyes mirrored her memory of the tropical waters. The woman was adorned in obviously costly robes of the same color.

The more Ginny stared, the more confused she became. Who was this woman? Her first instinct was a sister. Yet in all her knowledge of the Malfoy family there had never been reference to a sister. In fact there were times Ginny recalled a slight jealousy in Draco's status as an only child. Was she a girlfriend? Ginny mused. While the woman in the photo was not old, she was not young either; she seemed well out of school. Perhaps she was a bit naïve but she couldn't imagine a woman as sophisticated, beautiful and well… mature dating Draco, no matter his wealth and bloodlines. Finally a feasible notion came to Ginny's mind, was this Narcissa, Draco's mum? The photo must have been taken a few years ago, for she was youthful. But the similarities were present, the hair, and aristocratic features.

Somehow she hadn't thought that Draco would keep a picture of his mum by his bedside. Throughout her years at Hogwarts Harry, Ron and Hermione had always insisted that Malfoy was the biggest prat to ever grace the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. Her personal experiences with him and his father had never challenged this notion; in fact they had only strengthened it.

Somehow she didn't think that this picture was merely a concession to appearances, she doubted the private suites of the Malfoys were part of the general house tour. Perhaps Draco had felt a genuine affection for his mother… was is possible for a reputed 'evil wanker' such as Draco Malfoy to exhibit a genuine emotion for someone.

Throughout her contact with Draco he had always reveled in the pride of his family, especially that of his father. It appeared to Ginny that in Draco's eyes Lucius Malfoy was a demi-god. While Ginny loved her parents, she also recognized their faults. For example she often felt that perhaps her father should have worked in a job he didn't like quite as much, if only for a spot, in order to help out the family financially. It was especially hard being the youngest and only girl; Percy's hand-me-downs did nothing for her! This did not seem to be the case for Draco; in fact for all intents and purposes Ginny had assumed that Draco was doing everything in his power to become his father.

But apparently her characterization of Draco had been wrong, after all he wasn't the death eater that his father was, and he appeared to be helping a Weasley, all things his father would never had done. Ginny sat and thought about all the times she had encountered Draco and her opinion began to shift. Ginny recalled his anger during her fourth year when Lucius was imprisoned after the attack the ministry. She had watched him threaten Harry, but to Ginny it had seemed hollow. His eyes didn't glint with emotion like they often did when he was truly riled up, as Ron and Harry had managed to cause on several occasions. In fact that entire year after his fathers imprisonment Draco seemed empty. Ron rarely riled him up, and vice versa. Something had changed or perhaps it had always been an image and for some reason Ginny couldn't quite fathom, Draco Malfoy had ceased to project it.

Her curiosity getting the best of her, despite all the problems it had caused for her in life Ginny had been unable to quell this aspect of her personality, she grabbed the picture off the nightstand. The longer she stared at it the more intrigued she became. Unlike normal magical photos, this one did not seem to be moving. Narcissa did not wave to the camera at any time, or leave to chat with others; in fact she sat completely still.

No! It couldn't be, was this was a muggle photo!

Despite her dads obsession with all things muggle she had only seen a few muggle photos. Colin Creevy one of her better friends in her year had quite a collection. It was eerie the way the people were motionless and flat. Why the devil would pureblood loving Draco Malfoy have a muggle photo?

"I assure you the frame is not worth much at hock, so you might as well put it down." The infinitely cold voice of her host interrupted her reverie.

Ginny started, nearly dropping the costly frame.

Draco stalked forward, his features hard and unrelenting. Ginny was familiar with his anger from school, but this seemed different.

"I said put. It. Down." It was clear from his tone that Draco meant to be obeyed. There was no witty insult in this statement, just command.

Ginny slowly lowered the frame, unsure of how to approach this Draco, a truly angry Draco.

Pointedly ignoring the frame that was once again was resting on the nightstand Draco approached the bed.

"Are you done?' Draco inclined his head toward the empty platter that still lay on the bed.

Ginny nodded her agreement.

"Roderick!" Draco sharply called for the house elf.

In moments Roderick had appeared and gathered up both platters. As Draco's eyes followed the small elf out the door, Ginny caught their gaze. His eyes were molten; she had never seen them in such a state. She had tapped some inner reserve of Draco Malfoy by touching that photo she thought.

Draco continued to follow the path of the house elf.

Must find control, must regain control

Draco slowly chanted to himself. He avoided the path of Ginny's eyes, he knew she was watching him, but he was not going to allow her to see that something she did could cause him emotion. Damn! Draco cursed internally, why was he letting this bother him, she was just a Weasley and she was just looking at a photo on his bedside.

Never mind that she held a photo of his mother, the only one he had kept from his father. He clenched his fists in anger; his outburst had made it clear that the photo was worth something. Draco had been schooled for years in avoiding such displays and yet when taken to task he had failed. In fact he thought it was situations such as this that had resulted in his current situation. Hadn't he learned anything from his mother, obviously not for a Weasley lay injured in his bed.

Ginny sat in silence, as Draco struggled to regain his composure. Ginny was fairly certain that not many people had seen Draco in this state. Her keen sense of self-preservation told her to keep it that way and to not inform Draco she knew of his complete loss of control.

As Draco stared at the empty door that Roderick left through a tense silence permeated the air. Ginny never comfortable in such situations, unconsciously began chewing her nails.

"Would you stop that!" Draco seethed out in exasperation, drawn out of his self-reverie.

Ginny dropped her fingers from her mouth, angry with herself for picking up the nervous habit again. After the chamber of secrets incident she had nearly gnawed her fingers off, until her mother had cast an anti-chewing spell on her fingers. Actually it was just a spell that made her nails taste of the worst Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Eventually she had managed to quell the nervous gesture, but apparently all that hard work had been erased.

Ginny stared at her hands, all the light revelry she had enjoyed earlier was gone, and everything it had smothered resurfaced. The reappearance of a former nervous trait reminded her that she was no longer the same girl she had been 3 months ago. Not that that girl was particularity spectacular, but at least she wasn't a broken shell of a human being.

"Never touch anything in this room again." Draco once again donned his mask of ice. He glared at her with hard unfeeling eyes. Anything to regain his composure he thought. She flinched in response.

The coldness that Draco was trying to re-infuse his soul with was halted. Instead of her red hair, she saw gilt blonde locks and instead of a nightdress he saw formal robes. Draco closed his eyes to the image. With an incline of his head Draco quickly whipped around and fled the room.

************************************************************

Ginny sat staring at her hands for many minutes after Draco left the room. In fact she had barely noticed his absence. Ginny was lost in her own thoughts and hadn't room for contemplating why Draco had left so quietly and quickly.

Ginny moved her hands from her lap to her stomach. She slowly ran a hand over the non-existent curve. She stomach was flat now; after all she hadn't eaten much in the past week or so. But more to the point there was no longer a life within her. Ginny had known as much as soon as she her memory came flooding back to her last night. But she hadn't wanted to face that quite yet, it was enough to remember some of the details of her captivity.

She knew Draco had been itching to find out more, but he hadn't pressed. For that she respected him more than she ever thought possible. Her brothers would never let the situation rest at that. The situation had to be dealt with that she knew, but she was still struggling with it internally there was no way she could have sorted it out if pressed.

Her empty womb loomed large in her subconscious. She hadn't wanted a child, and the circumstances as to its conception were still at large in her mind. It was forced upon her, yet she still felt empty, despite her sense of violation.

She had never felt so alone and empty her entire life, even when she was a lonely first year, writing to a diary. Ginny felt as though ever bit of choice and free will had been taken from, she was drained and hollow. She knew that an act of violation had created the life, but even worse her decision to deal with that creation had been taken away. The child had been taken involuntarily and regardless of her feeling towards keeping the child or not, she wanted that choice. Perhaps what made it all worse was that she had been taken here to Malfoy manner, not to her family. Despite the problems that may have weighed heavily on her family, she wanted nothing more than to have her mother hold her and tell her everything would be all right.

Her emptiness began to be replaced by anger. Somewhere in the back of her mind she mused that perhaps this was a good sign and she wasn't dead inside. She was angry that she was not in control of any aspect of her life. She had been in this position once before and she would be dammed if it would continue to happen again.

Feeling herself tire, in spite of her rage, hopelessness won out. My own body won't even let me say in control she mused. As sleep began to claim her Ginny let a few tears of frustration and despair roll down her cheeks.

************************************************************

Hermione sat on a flowered sofa; one that looked like in a few years time would be covered with plastic to prevent wear and tear.

Her hair was frazzled and her face weary. This immediately changed as she heard slow footsteps on the stairs.

"Dad! Stay upstairs I'll be right up with the lemonade." Hermione quickly rose from the sofa and scuttled into the kitchen.

"It's okay…I needed to stretch my legs." Hermione's father continued to make his slow path down the stairs.

Hermione laden with a tray, glasses of ice and a pitcher of lemonade met her father at the base of the stairs. Her fathers left arm was heavily bandaged and held to his side by a sling and a walking cast adorned his right leg.

"Dad, you really shouldn't be up on that leg too much… you heard the doctors!"

Hermione's father smiled at his daughter and with his good arm ruffled her hair. " I know, I know. But what sort of man would I be if I actually listened to the old sawbones."

"You sound just like Harry!" Hermione sighed exasperatedly. She set the tray down on the entry table and poured her father a glass. "Here have some I just made it!"

Her father took a long sip, "Its wonderful, just like your mother makes it! How is Harry? Haven't seen the boy in a few days!" After finally acknowledging that his little girl had grown up he had begrudgingly become quite fond of her boyfriend.

"He's been busy, I expect that he will come by this afternoon after he visits with Ron."

"Ahh… Ron, his brother Percy passed on in the war did he not? I remember that family quite nice, the father always asking about plugs…"

"Yes, Percy didn't make it, I believe the services were yesterday." Hermione answered her father a bit of an edge to her voice.

"You didn't go!" Her father sounded surprised. He knew his daughter was quite good friends with the Weasley boy.

"I wanted to be here to help you two home from the hospital. You can't take care of mum quite yet… and you know it!" Hermione scolded her father as she saw a light of protest enter into his eyes as she questioned his abilities.

"Now go sit out in the yard, I don't want to be responsible for any further damage to that foot of yours!" Hermione ordered her father rather imperiously.

He smiled at his daughter understanding that she was only concerned for him. It was to be expected after the battles that she had witnessed. He knew very little of what had happened in the wizarding world; after all he had been holed up in a hospital recovering, yet he knew it had to have been horrific. He had seen the changes in his daughter and in Harry, they seemed years older and hardened. "You know if you ever need to talk I'm always here…"

Hermione smiled at her father, "Yes dad, I know," with that she gathered the tray and headed upstairs.

Hermione knocked on the door to her parent's room, before she slowly opened the oak panel.

"Mum, I brought you some lemonade." Hermione shades had been drawn to allow some light into the room. The bright morning sunlight illuminated the bed and its occupant.

Her mother didn't move in response to Hermione's entrance. For the life of her Hermione couldn't figure out why the doctors had let her come home, she still seemed awfully ill. As smart as she was Hermione knew little about healing arts, she just couldn't stomach the blood, otherwise she would have done anything she could have to help her mother.

Her mother's skin was pale and slack as she lay in the bed; her hair was loosely piled on her pillow. Getting no response Hermione leant forward and placed a kiss on her forehead. "If you want some lemonade later I left it on the nightstand."

Hermione closed the door quietly then quickly ran to her own room, throwing the door closed. She collapsed on the bed in sobs.

It seemed as though everything was collapsing around Hermione.

This isn't the way it was supposed to be she thought. After war everything was supposed to come together not fall apart.

Hermione didn't know what to do anymore. Her mother was desperately ill and no one least her father would tell her what was wrong. In fact her father seemed to act as though nothing was wrong. It was all so infuriating. She wasn't a child anymore, she had probably witnessed more death in the past few months than her parents could ever have imagined. She felt so on edge with her mother so ill and not being privy to the details.

Her fathers mention of Percy and the Weasley family had only made things worse.

Ron

She didn't know what to think about anything anymore. She had forsaken a relationship with the redhead years ago, but yet something still stuck in her mind. She loved Harry, of course she did. What couldn't you love about the boy? He was handsome with his mused black and hair and clear green eyes. He seemed to make up for his lack of loving relationships as a child by showering her with love and attention. How could she not love him…

Yet all she could picture in her mind was Ron lying in his bed as they visited him. A sad wistful expression marred his face and his red hair glinted attractively in the filtered sunlight. She felt unimaginable bad for not being there for him when his parents told him about Percy, and for not making it to the services. She did have her parents to help, but deep down she knew that wasn't the real reason. She was scared to be there for Ron right now. There was simply too much emotion in her right now, emotions she couldn't name or control.

A knock on the door followed by the shuffling footsteps of her father drew her from her tears. Hermione knew Harry had arrived and it wouldn't do for her to be wet cheeked when he came upstairs.

Harry was here now; he had taken the chance and made his feelings known. Ron hadn't. Harry was here to help her pick up the pieces and he would be the one she loved. Finally resolved that there was no place for her redheaded best friend in her heart of hearts, Hermione made her way to the bathroom and proceeded to wash up.

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Thanks to everyone for the reviews! I cannot tell you how much they mean. I believe I have found a beta (as you can probably tell this chappie wasn't Beta'ed but I wanted to get it out before I begin my cross country move - I may be busy for a bit). While I can't promise when the next chapter will be typed out I will promise to get much written while I spend five days in a car driving across the country!

Here is a mini preview of what is to come!

Why Draco stormed out of the room and his apology to Ginny

Some good ol' D/G interaction

and... drum roll... Ginny's return to the Burrow. Should be interesting to say the least!

8. The Past is Never Far

Disclaimer:I own nothing but thousands of dollars of debt to the federal government - otherwise known as 'financial aid.'

Chapter 8 - The Past is Never Far

The wind was sharp as it rushed by his ears. His broom, a firebolt XP was swift, swifter than he remembered. Green landscape flew by below him, all obscured and anonymous. The escape from his reality was exactly what he sought.

It had been months since he had sat a broom for pure pleasure, months since he had sought the snitch, even in a practice. The reality of the war had banished such novelties. But, now, now there was time again for such pursuits. But Draco was not aloft for merely pleasures sake, he had sought refuse from the manor and all that it entailed. More memories than he cared to regard had been brought up this morning. All thanks to one Miss Virginia Weasley.

Letting out a small shout of frustration, Draco banished all thoughts of the young redhead from his mind. Draco ordered himself to fly… simply fly.

That he did for miles. He swept out far over the highlands that surrounded his ancestral lands, and back again. A slight mist covered the land, and he began to find peace. Draco landed on a patch of green grass some hundred meters from his home. He wasn’t quite sure why he had landed; something inside of him had pushed him down to earth.

Draco looked up a wrought iron gate stood in front of him; it encircled a large plot of land. The grassy knoll was marked with headstones, some small and granite, others large and made from marble. It was his family’s cemetery. Here lay generations of Malfoy dead, they ranged as far back as Merlin’s day – or so he was told. Draco had never spent much time exploring this part of his history. He found reminiscing over those dead to be a bit too morbid for his own taste. His mother had spent quite a lot of time out here, placing small posies on graves. Narcissa had been especially fond of Lucius’s mother, and took especially good care of her grave.

Draco lifted the creaky hinge of the gate and entered the graveyard. Paths wound their way around the various headstones and mausoleums. All the male Malfoys possessed magnificent memorials to their lives. A small smile of pride crossed Draco’s features. Despite the atrocities his family had committed, he still retained a sense of pride for his family’s longevity and power.

A smaller headstone, made out of a reddish stone caught his eye. From his vantage the stone appeared rather recent (but with his family one never could tell). It was a monument with little ornamentation; obviously a headstone for a woman. Crouching down he leaned forward to more closely examine it.

Narcissa Black Malfoy Wife of Lucius Malfoy b. 1960 Mother to Draco Malfoy b. 1986

That was all. No references to her role as a mother, her validity as a person. All she was to this family was a wife and a mother.

Draco had only been to his mother’s gravesite once before, the night she had been buried. She had not arrived at her final resting place through an honorable ceremony as she deserved. Instead her ‘ceremony’ consisted of several house elves and Draco digging a six foot hold in the ground while a late spring shower poured over the party. Draco himself had not overseen the etching and placement of the headstone, apparently his father had made the appropriate arrangement before he left for Azkaban. Merlin only knew what his father had dreamed up for his own monument to say – that point was moot now. Memories of that night – the dirt that took him days to remove from his fingernails and the rain that ran cold down his spine – never left him and revisited him only in the depths of the night.

How ironic that fate would bring me to my mother’s grave today he thought sardonically.

Draco dropped to his knees on the grass that covered the mound that was now his mother. He traced the etching of her name with a shaky finger.

She had been a good woman, perhaps a bit over protective, but as Draco grew older he understood her reasons. She had come from an equally as aristocratic family, deeply steeped in the dark arts. She was the perfect match for the Malfoy heir. Together they had produced a son to carry on that line - the spitting image of his father.

But his mother had not enjoyed fitting the mold created by her family and Lucius. She had carried on her role regally to protect her son. He recalled, as a boy, her trying to keep him home with her when Lucius wanted to take her out. He had resisted as a child, what boy wouldn’t have. He had loved going out with his father, hunting, sporting, and generally romping about as a man. He now understood that his mother had been trying to keep him from turning into his father.

What Lucius first dismissed as protective mothering, he soon realized was much more. He saw the rebellion manifesting itself in his wife, and like a conquering Viking he quickly went about destroying its settlement. He had seen his mother less and less as the years went by. More and more she had sequestered herself in her rooms. Draco’s mind had been filled with the words of his father and at first he hadn’t noticed her disappearance.

As it turns out this is what she had feared most. Narcissa was fading away; she had given up hope of ever living the life she wanted. She was forever to be the beaten wife of Lucius Malfoy. Draco, being away at Hogwarts and receiving an obligatory letter from his parents once a month, had not been privy to the turmoil that was growing at the Manor.

Apparently, as his years of schooling passed by, Narcissa had begun an outright disavowal of her former life, despite Lucius’s attempts to quell her. This information had only been made known to Draco after he had sat and had a lengthy discussion with Dumbledore at the beginning of his sixth year. How Dumbledore knew what had happened at his home he hadn’t a clue, but then again Dumbledore seemed to know most everything that went on.

Narcissa had run off into the local villages and begun carrying on affairs with Muggles, just to shame both the Malfoy and the Black lines. For every one of her actions there was a much greater punishment, but it had done little to halt her. Any pain that Lucius could dole out did not hamper her disobedience. Narcissa’s only concern was for her son.

During this period she had been writing letters to Draco at school that his father had confiscated. One had made it to Hogwarts during his fifth year, and had confused Draco to no end. It had been a ramble of her love for him, her worries for his safety, and it had ended with an angry remark against the Black family. He had read the letter several times never understanding why this vastly different missal had come to him. Unable to comprehend and after receiving a typical letter from his parents in another week’s time; he dismissed the occurrence.

Draco now wished he hadn’t let the importance of such a correspondence slip by him. It was the last time that he had had contact with his mother. He could not have known this at the time, but still the guilt ate at him.

The end of his fifth year came with the Death Eater attack at the Ministry of Magic and the arrest of his father. That was what Draco had thought at least. He had boarded the Hogwarts Express with a conflicted heart. His feelings toward his father were mixed as they always had been. Draco had always sought his approval, despite the fact that no matter his action it never seemed to be quite enough. As a child it had been devastating to him, but his mother had always been there to soften the blow.

He remembered the anger that he had experienced when Potter had remarked upon his mothers elitism during their fourth year. Superiority had always been a part of the Malfoy family. Draco understood that the tradition, education and power that his family possessed and retained, vaulted them above other families. Yet his father had always used this superiority over, inside the family and taught Draco that such actions were the only appropriate way to deal with a family. Yet his mother had not retained her haughty exterior when at the manor. She had been there early on to kiss a bruised knee away or to show him how to tie a shoe with two bunnies. That was until Lucius took note and remarked that she would ‘make their son soft.’ From that moment on any such influence that Narcissa could have employed was squelched.

Sadly, Draco thought, his desire to gain his father’s acceptance had over shadowed the transformation of his mother’s relationship with him. Draco scoffed to himself; Lucius couldn’t have planned it any better. Draco had become obsessed with his father and had lost sight of his mother. Draco had noticed this development at times, but there was little an adolescent boy could do and often he didn’t fully comprehend what he was seeing. For the most part his mother remained the same when they were together; it was the moment he walked away that her façade would crack.

The world that he had built up around himself, where everything would be perfect as long as he did whatever he could to please his father came crashing down around his shoulders when he arrived at station 9 and ¾. As usual Roderick was waiting for Draco when he stepped off the train. Draco wasn’t sure what to expect with his father gone, but he assumed his mother had all under control and the family barrister would be working on releasing his father. Roderick had been especially grim-faced but that was to be expected.

The black Rolls that his parents used for city trips conveyed him home as usual. The house he entered was immaculate as usual, but something felt off he remembered. The house elves had scattered at his entrance, they all possessed a nervous twittered and seemed to be constantly looking over their shoulders. Draco had stopped in the middle of the grand foyer; he dropped his trunk and began a quick ascent upstairs. What began as a brisk climb became a dead run as a feeling of dread filled his soul.

Where was his mother? Not a year had gone by was she not waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. She cherished being the first to welcome him home. She had once told him, he thought it during his first year when he had experienced small pangs of homesickness that she would always be waiting for him when he came home for holiday. She had never broken that promise and he didn’t think that she would unless something were wrong… desperately wrong.

Draco reached the upstairs landing and headed for his mothers suites. Reaching the door to his mother’s rooms he knocked tentatively. Receiving no response he raised his fist and harshly rapped on the door. When silenced answered him a second time Draco turned to the knob only to find it securely locked. He immediately reached for his wand, but the underage restriction flitted through his mind. Instead he braced his body and threw his shoulder into the door. After several blows the door finally gave way.

Draco entered the room holding his aching shoulder. His mother’s peach hued suite was in utter disarray. Her normally impeccable rooms were turned upside down, chairs were overturned and vases shattered. Draco wadded through the remnants of his mothers sitting room. Too many thoughts to grab hold off ran through his mind. What possible reason could explain the state of her rooms and where was his mother?

The door connecting her bed chambers to the parlor say slightly ajar. Draco shouldered his way through and came to an abrupt stop.

He remembered very little of the next few hours. He recalled seeing the train to his mother’s night rail strewn across the bed haphazardly. His eyes followed the sky blue material and then stopped in shock. His mother lay across her large bed, utterly still. As Draco’s feet brought him closer to the bed, as if with a will of their own, he began to notice details. Her clothing was ripped as if a struggle had occurred. The shock of blood on the bed came into focus. Gods there was a lot of blood. He saw a large gash on her arm, and on her lower leg, but the majority of the blood seemed to come from her head. Somehow Draco had the presence of mind to check for her breath and a pulse. When he found none, he dropped to his knees alongside her bed.

Coming to himself Draco realized that he was still kneeling in front of his mother’s headstone. He hadn’t thought of the events that followed his return home that summer since they had happened. For his personal welfare he had pushed all memory of that day from his mind. He refused to remember Roderick appearing by his side and pulling him up from the ground. He only thought of the rain that poured on him as he carried his mother’s body wrapped in her silk shift out to the graveyard, during nights where sleep would not claim him.Feeling a sense of calm pervade his system Draco supposed that he had never let himself say goodbye to his mother. He had bottled up whatever he felt regarding her death and moved on. That was typically Malfoy he thought sadly; he was his father’s son in too many respects. He also supposed that his mother would actually be proud of his actions. He had finally proven himself to not be the man his father wanted him to be, all his mother’s suffering had not gone to waste.

Draco rose up, he kissed his fingertips and laid them on the headstone in a symbol of remembrance.

Turning, Draco headed out of the small fenced graveyard. The manor loomed large in front of him. It was time to return to life… A small movement from a second story window caught his eye. Red hair… he should have known! He hadn’t thought she was able to move about yet.

Draco reflected on his actions that morning as he gathered his broom. He had been harsh with her, he didn’t deny it. She had touched a nerve even he didn’t know was so tender. She had unknowingly set a bomb off inside him, and as much as it pained him to admit it, he had taken it out on her undeservingly. Growing up as he had, he was unused to his belongings being touched, especially such a personal item as befit his nightstand.

He sighed… an apology was due to the girl upstairs. Merlin he hated to apologize to anyone. In fact the only person he had ever actually apologized to was his father. That fact tainted his entire view on the subject. Draco felt an apology was a sign of weakness, a sign that one could not hold their own. Yet as he thought about the young Weasley who sat upstairs, he knew that an apology to her would not mean he was weak.

This thought disturbed Draco… why would this situation be any different? There was something about Ginny Weasley that disturbed Draco. She altered all the rules that regulated his behavior; she had entered his life and confused all his beliefs regarding the Weasleys. He didn’t harbor any thought that he would suddenly become mates with Ron, but he couldn’t despise Ginny like he did her brother.

He supposed seeing her holding the picture of his mother had solidified his instinctive reason for opening his world to her. A part of Draco associated Ginny with his mother. Seeing Ginny victimized and alone she had looked startlingly similar to the way he had found his mother. Also Ginny’s marginalization by her family and all of Hogwarts reminded him of his mother and her life under Lucius Malfoy.

Ginny Weasley represented his chance to purge his guilt, to keep an innocent soul from being destroyed by the evils that men like his father and Lord Voldemort represented.

With that Draco spurred himself upstairs to meet his doom… apologizing to Ms. Weasley. Somehow he knew she would not make it easy on him.

**********************************************************************************

Ginny sat in the window seat staring out at the Malfoy lands. They were vast, representing the power that the family held. Ginny pressed her forehead to the cold windowpane.

Why was she here?

She had come to some conclusions in the time since Draco had stormed out of the room earlier that morning. Mainly she came to the conclusion that under no circumstances did she understand Draco. The man confounded her at every turn.

She also came to the conclusion that there was a reason she was not at home with her family and she was certain she would not like the reason.

Draco paused before the doors to his rooms. Should he knock? He decided against it after all they were technically his rooms. Plus he wanted to keep his ‘adversary’ off guard.

Lost in her thoughts Ginny was completely unaware of Draco’s entrance into the room and his approach to her seat.

“I’m surprised to see you up and about already”

Ginny started at his voice. She quickly swiveled toward his voice, a tinge of pain a reminder to her injured state.

Before she had a chance to interject Draco continued on, “Well I am glad that you feel well enough to move about.”

Ginny continued to stare blankly at him. What was he about she wondered.

She narrowed her eyes slightly. Was he going to simply ignore his prattish behavior from this morning? That sort of attitude frustrated her infinitely. She didn’t ask that anyone be flawless, merely that they own their faults and apologize when appropriate.

Well thought Draco she doesn’t seem that angry. The infamous Weasley temper that he had seen so often in Ron was not flaring up. Perhaps she hadn’t been that offended by his actions. Looking more closely at her, he sensed a vibration of anger emanating from her. Apparently the temperament associated with a redhead hadn’t escaped Ginny.

Draco shifted his weight. Instantly angry at himself for showing his ill comfort with the situation.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your afternoon.” Ginny lifted an eyebrow at him quizzically. “I just stopped by to let you know that your actions this morning while rude, did not deserve the reaction I expressed.”

Was Draco Malfoy attempting an apology to Ginny Weasley? Her mouth dropped open in surprise.

Draco narrowed her eyes at her response. How dare she mock him in such a way! It wasn’t as if he had said he loved Harry Potter or anything else shocking. As Ginny continued to stare at him openmouthed he became more incensed. This was the last time he would ever apologize to the red-headed imp in front of him.

Ginny didn’t know what to say. There he went again confusing the bloody hell out of her.

Draco leaned down and placed one long finger on her chin.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you that you’ll catch flies in your mouth if you leave it hanging open.” With that he pushed up and snapped her mouth shut.

His cool gray eyes remained locked with hers.

”Well excuse me. It’s not everyday that the grand Draco Malfoy lowers himself to make concessions to the mere plebeians that surround him.” Ginny cocked her head at him imitating his smirk.

Why that little… Draco narrowed his eyes. “You know I didn’t have to say anything. You are a guest in my house…” He left off tilting his nose up in a sign of superiority.

“Ohhh….” Ginny fumed. She crossed her arms and sat back.

She didn’t know what it was about him, but he certainly set her off. A smile flitted across her features. Merlin it had been ages since she had been able to banter with someone like this. When she was younger she had constantly argued with her siblings, but after her first year, she had lost some of her stubbornness and self assurance. The last person on earth she expected to be able to converse with in such a manner was Draco Malfoy. But, she mused, she could and she did. Perhaps it was the serious demeanor he sought to exude so often, she just felt the need to rattle it… or maybe it was the way he cared for her even though he no obligation to do so… or perhaps it was the side of him that he kept hidden, as evident with his feelings for his mother, that she so wanted to discover.

Draco noticed the smile beginning to grace her features.

”Something funny, Weasley?”

Ginny caught his eyes, her own twinkling with mischief. “Nothing… nothing but this spot of gravy you got right there” she pointed to his lapel “on your shirt.”

Draco looked down. He couldn’t have spilled, he never spilled. Wait he hadn’t even had gravy today. But before he could think on the matter anymore Ginny had taken advantage of his distraction and the ottoman he stood in front of, to push him and cause him to tumble over onto his derriere.

Draco looked up at her from his vantage point on the ground. He was astonished.

“Wha.. Why… WEASLEY!” He sputtered at first (Merlin she had caused him to sputter!) and then roared her name.

Ginny broke out in loud raucous laugher at his response. She lent a hand down to help him up, which a disorientated Draco limply took hold of. As Ginny began to pull him up a light bulb went off in Draco’s head. He jerked the hand that held Ginny quickly. She ended in a laughing pile of robes and red hair at his side.

Shockingly Draco found a smile and a chortle of laughter come from his mouth. Ginny lifted her hair from his face and smiled back at him.

“So you are human” she remarked.

Instead of getting angry Draco’s smile began to deepen. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

As Ginny straightened her tangled limbs and began to raise herself a shock of pain brought her to her knees again.

“Damn! I forgot all about your injuries.” Draco cursed and reached down to pick her up.

“I’m fine… hands off ferret!” Ginny forcefully pushed away his approaching hands. But to her dismay, Ginny found herself unable to gain a solid footing.

Seeing her attempt Draco once again reached down. He saw her mouth open in protest “Shut up … Weaslette” Draco smirked as he deftly wrapped one arm around her back and another under her legs.

As he laid her on the plush bed Ginny stilled him placing one small pale hand on his sleeve.

“Sorry and thank you Draco.”

“Whatever for?” He heard himself asking but couldn’t fathom why.

“The sorry or the thank you?” Ginny responded.

Pondering for a moment Draco replied, “Both.”

“I’m sorry I pushed you away when you were trying to help me up. I still… I just don’t feel comfortable being touched…” She paused. “Especially by a man.”

Draco cursed mentally. Damn Voldemort and damn himself for forgetting. But it was so easy when she acted so happy. He knew though, that her pain would always lurk just below the surface. Ginny Weasley it seemed was an expert in putting up a front.

“And the thank you that's for apologizing even though it goes against your every principle.” Draco moved to interrupt. “You know it does so don’t even try to deny it.” Draco acquiesced.

“And I guess I also wanted to thank you for making me forget why I am here. I can’t explain it but, whenever I am with you my life doesn’t seem so desperate, my pain doesn’t feel so biting and my memories fade to a point where it doesn’t hurt to breathe.” Ginny stopped shocked a bit at herself for saying so much.

< p>

So he inclined his head and dimmed the light on her nightstand.

Ginny acknowledged his response, it was more than she had thought he would do.

“You should get some sleep. I’ll be by for dinner in a few hours.” Ginny smiled. He understood and respected it.

“Thank you… again.”

Draco shhh’ed her and headed to the door. As he shut the double doors he paused.

“No, Ms. Weasley you are wrong. It is I that should thank you for doing the same for me.” With that he shut the paneled doors, but not before a large grin appeared on the face of Ms. Weasley herself.

_____________________________________________________________________________

AN: Sorry for the rather rough draft of this - I am back in school so time (especially editing time) for this story had become rather short. These law professors you'd think I was there to study law or something! : )

Anyway I am working on the BETA situation and I have talked so a few if they are still interested I may be in contact soon!

Also thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I couldn't keep writing this if it weren't for you guys! Thanks again (except for those occassional mean ones - bastards!)

9. Roses are Red...

Disclaimer:The characters in the story do not belong to me in any way.

Chapter 9 - Roses are Red...

The whispering click of knitting needles kept Ron from getting any sort of sleep. He was sprawled out on the lawn in the backyard of the Burrow, enjoying the later summer sun. His mother sat on an old rocking chair that was magically enhanced to continually sway. She was furiously knitting something; something purple that Ron was currently unable to identify. Ron knew his mother was anxious, she had always said that knitting manually calmed her.

She had every reason to be anxious Ron thought; Ginny was coming home.

(flashback)

With a sharp crack Professor Dumbledore appeared in the comfy den of the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley sat on the paisley loveseat, nervously rubbing her hands together. Arthur leaned one hip on the arm of loveseat and reassuringly placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder.

“Molly, my dear, Albus is here.” Molly quickly focused her attention from the large grandfather clock that located the Weasley family members, onto their guest.

Ron sat at the top of the staircase silently observing the proceedings downstairs. He knew his parents weren’t hiding this meeting from him; they just hadn’t quite been able to accept that Ron was an adult. They still saw him as their little Ronniekins.

Ron was the only one at home so he was left to eavesdrop alone. The twins had gone back to their flat in Diagon alley, and Bill and his wife Fleur were still in France. Charlie had been at the Ministry all day trying to see if there were any job openings closer to home. He didn’t want to leave mum to head back to Romania. Not to mention the fact that relations on the continent had not yet been completely re-established and Charlie wasn’t certain if the job he had held there even existed anymore.

Ron’s ears perked again as he heard the calm tenor of Professor Dumbledore’s voice.

“Why Molly, you are looking well!” Albus took the seat across the worn oak coffee table from the Weasley’s.

“Thank you Albus. Things aren’t the same, but life… life it must continue on.”

Dumbledore smiled a sad sort of smile and reached across the table to pat her hand reassuringly.

“Molly, I must commend you. You have done your Gryffindor heritage proud.”

Ron listened to the three adults reminisce for several moments. Dumbledore asked after Bill and Charlie and how the twins were coming along with re-establishing their joke shop. Finally after Ron had almost lost all patience for their conversation, Dumbledore finally came around to his reason for visiting.

“I spoke with Dr. Throckmorton this morning. It appears that Ginny will be able to come home tomorrow.” Dumbledore paused as if for reaction, “that is if that’s what you want.” He turned assessing eyes on the couple he had known for years.

Arthur, who had been rather quiet during the previous proceedings, quickly spoke up. “Of course that is what we want!”

Molly raised haunted eyes that reflected the loss of a child, “I want my baby girl back.”

Dumbledore softened his eyes. “Molly I will bring her home to you, but there are things. Things you need to know.”

Arthur began pacing across the small room his hands clasped behind his back. “Albus I told you, I don’t care what she did, I just want her home.”

Dumbledore moved to interrupt, “No, Albus I said I don’t care… We have already lost one child I can’t lose another.”

Albus raised a hand to stop Arthur, “I understand that you just want your child back, but you have to understand she may not be the same girl that you knew.”

Molly raised her eyes that were brimming with tears. “I have heard what is being said. I know that many think that she was helping the Dark Lord; that she brought Hermione there so that he-who-must-not-be-named could kill Harry. To be perfectly honest I don’t know what to think and I am ashamed as a mother to say that.” Arthur stared at Molly; this was the most she had spoken since they had received the news regarding Percy. She continued, “I can’t say that I don’t believe what they are saying. She hasn’t been the same girl that I raised since the chamber incident. I thought that she was coming around these past few years, she was almost the little girl I remember.”

“Molly she has always been that girl.”

“I know, I know. It’s just that she became so melancholy. I tried to help her with it and I know that she was getting better. I could help her again. I know I could! All she needs to do is forget about what happened and remember her family. I know I’ll make her favorite – apple pie!” For the first time in nearly a week a spark lit Molly’s chocolate brown eyes.

“I know you could help her Molly, you are her mother and I am sure there is no where she would rather be right now. But I need to warn you, it may not be as easy as you want it to be.” Dumbledore sighed. He had a great deal of respect for the couple sitting across from him. They had been loyal friends since their days at Hogwarts. He also understood their current position. They had little information from the source only hearsay, especially convincing hearsay he reasoned. He also knew they loved their children unconditionally, but the seriousness of the allegations were enough to test the ties of the closest families. He also knew that it would be hard for Ginny to come home, especially with any such thoughts regarding her association with the Dark Lord harbored by her family.

Dumbledore felt an obligation to keep his knowledge to himself; it wasn’t his story to tell. Yet he feared for young Ms. Weasley, it was hard enough for her to come to terms with what happened without having to worry whether her family had found her guilty of charges she didn’t even know existed.

“Molly, Arthur, You have to understand that I cannot tell Ginny’s story for her, that is something she will have to decide to tell you. But I do want you to understand that she had nothing to do with Hermione’s capture nor was she an active participant in the events that did occur the day that they left the train.” Dumbledore wished that he could tell them more, but in actuality he didn’t know all the facts yet, he knew what Draco had told him, but he would rather hear them from Ginny herself.

‘Albus, I know. I do not blame her for anything that has happened. We just love her and want her home.” Arthur paused in his pacing as he responded to Professor Dumbledore.

Ron dusted his pants off as he rose from his spot at the top of the stairs. He had heard what he needed to know. His sister was coming home, he should probably go and owl Harry – he had wanted to know when she would be back. The only question remaining in Ron’s mind was where had she been?

(end flashback)

*******************************************************************************

Ginny ran her hand along the luxurious fabric that was spread across the end of her bed.

Draco had said he would have an outfit brought up for her, but she had never thought it would be something this nice. Black slacks, crisp with a crease, were accompanied by a camel colored cashmere three-quarters length sweater. Black dress robes also lay on the bed.

She was feeling much better as of late and planned to walk about the grounds for the first time. She had mentioned this desire to Draco the night before and he responded in a typically Draco fashion.

(flashback)

He ran his eyes over her ‘borrowed dressing gown. “Well Weasley I assure you that our grounds are secluded, but I think the gardener would be a bit scanadlized if he were to spot you in… that” Ginny glared at him.

< p>

“What Weasley? Were you planning on wearing what is under that robe? I know you aren’t accustomed too much, but I thought your family was at least generally clothed.”

Ginny continued her silent campaign of glaring.

”Are you through?” Ginny stood up from the small sofa she had been resting on and smoothed her silk dressing robe down her sides. “hmm… this would fetch a nice price…”

“You will not sell my clothing.”

Ginny whipped her head around at his comment, “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was yours. You wouldn’t mind would you, after all I’m sure that you won’t be wearing it now that my ‘Weasley filth’ has ruined it.”

Draco emitted a low noise that sounded something like a growl.

“Why Draco control yourself!” Ginny approached the sideboard which held the meal that Draco had brought up for the two of them to share. She poured a glass of pumpkin juice and turned offering up a glass for him. Draco shook his head.

”No, thank you.”

Ginny walked back to her spot on the sofa. Merlin she loved sparring with him. There was something about getting under his skin. He so rarely allowed his cool exterior to be ruffled. Yet she seemed to have a talent for it!

Draco watched her walk over to the remaining food. He didn’t know how she managed to get under his hide so well, but damn if he didn’t enjoyed it.

“To prevent my entire wardrobe from being hocked; I will have an outfit ready for you tomorrow.”

(end flashback)

Ginny had been expecting her old clothes to be brought up. She hadn’t thought such a nice outfit would be awaiting her.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth; Ginny picked up the clothes and quickly slipped into her new threads.

The clothes fit to perfection. She suspected they must have been charmed to fit whoever put them on. The pants skimmed her hips and the sweater it was…well heaven. Ginny had never had the opportunity to try cashmere on. Merlin she had been missing out!

This is something a girl could get used to. She ran her hand through damp locks of hair. Her wand had been confiscated by some nameless minion of Tom’s so she was forced to leave her hair be and dry naturally.

Ginny quickly ran out the room without so much as a passing glance in the large mirror by the door.

Draco stood in the foyer. He glanced at his watch; he had said 10:00 where the hell was she! He abhorred lateness. Did she think he had all day to wait around for her. He’d be hogtied before he allowed her to wander the families estates unescorted. Who knew what sort of damage she would wreck, and what secrets she would uncover that he had no desire to explain.

The sound of feet rushing down the stair case alerted him to her presence. Draco’s breath hitched in his chest. What had he been thinking giving her those clothes? They did fit her perfectly, but she looked too… too familiar.

He recalled the last time he had seen that outfit. He had just arrived home for Christmas holiday during his 5th year. His mother, like always, had met him in the foyer. She looked elegant as usual, but the smile she wore lent her an air of comfort. That Christmas Lucius had been absent the majority of the time, doing whatever it is that Lord Voldemort asked of him. It had been perhaps one of Draco’s happiest holidays. But, he recalled, he could sense tension in the air. He had known that all was not right, yet hadn’t said a thing.

Granted Narcissa looked rather different in the camel colored sweater with her light coloring, but the petite frame and large eyes that Ginny possessed were achingly familiar. Ginny’s vibrant red hair complemented the tan color well; the large smile on her face did much for outfit as well.

There was something about bringing a smile to her face that pleased Draco. He knew it shouldn’t affect him in anyway, but he couldn’t help it. She reminded him too much of his mother to simply carry on with her as he had in the past. Shockingly enough after the past few days in which he had gotten to know the young Weasley he found that she was actually an interesting person. She was so different from him and yet so similar.

The pain (physical and mental) both had experienced in their lives significantly shaped their outward personalities. Both had a wealth inside that had never been touched by another. Draco stopped his ruminations, he was thinking on this subject far too much.

He didn’t want to think about the relationship that was being forged between the two. He was sure whatever amiability they had forged over her convalescence wouldn’t last when they returned to school. She had the dream team (the flames of hell would have to be licking at heels for him to associate with them) and he… well he didn’t have friends they cost too much.

Ginny stopped in front of Draco and waved a hand in front of his features. “Earth to Draco!”

Draco swatted her hand away and sent a withering glance her way, “I’m sorry I’m not accustomed to waiting… especially for a Weasley.”

“Oh hush!” Ginny stuck her tongue out at him in response.

Draco was appalled; she had the gall to stick her tongue out at him! How one responded to such an action was beyond him.

“Come along.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the door. “I don’t have all day you know.”

It was a pleasant morning. The sun flitted through clouds and it was a mild temperature.

Ginny admired the beautifully manicured lands spread out before her.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Draco asked as he waited for her to catch up to his long-legged stride. He felt a touch of guilt for speeding off from her; she was injured for God’s sake.

“Better, I slept quite well.”

“The dreamless potion is helping?”

She had been plagued by nightmares since she had arrived; they had escalated after Harry had appeared and triggered much of her memory. After being woken up numerous times, he had consulted Aesa. The doctor had prescribed a dreamless potion, to be used sparingly due to its addictive nature.

“It works quite well.” A frown marred her face. Merlin she was scared, scared of a measly potion. She knew she was becoming dependant on the damn concoction. There was nothing she both hated and feared more than being dependant on something.

Draco looked at her furrowed brown and understood how angry she was at the fact that she needed a potion to allow her to sleep normally. Moments like this were becoming increasingly familiar. Draco was finding unsettling similarities between himself and the Weasley’s youngest.

The pair walked in silence, a companionable silence. They eventually reached the edge of a large garden. A hedge, perfectly trimmed, outlined the obviously well tended patch.

“What’s inside there?” Ginny asked as they approached.

Draco didn’t respond immediately. “It’s a garden.”

“Well yes, I may be poor but I am not dumb.” Ginny stopped at the parting in hedging. “I was just wondering if it was special, it looks very well cared for.”

Ginny took a step forward into the garden. It was a fabulous garden – large and well designed. It was an eclectic mixture of plants, yet through the design it flowed well and was extraordinarily inviting. Ginny was a bit shocked at the presence of this garden in a house as formal as the Malfoys; such a treasure was highly unexpected. She meandered her way through the small stone-made path.

She paused by a large rose bush, it appeared to be the only one in the garden. A large wooden bench was situated next to dark red rose bush. Ginny reached a hand forward and cupped a blossom. The smell was intoxicating.

Memories flooded through Ginny. Memories of her childhood merged with all the thoughts that she had hedged from her consciousness for the past few days.

Draco remained at the entrance to the garden. Merlin, did she have to go into that garden. It seemed inevitable now that everything he did with that girl would be associated with his mother. Up until a few days ago he had thought he had dealt with feelings associated with Narcissa; but somehow Ginny reminded him that a wealth of emotions simmered just under the surface. He didn’t have the luxury of catering to the whims of emotions. His life was filed with consequences and responsibilities. He accepted this and had grown accustomed to it. Suddenly now he was inundated with thoughts that didn’t fit within the norms of his life. To be honest it was wearing him out. He was tired of running into feelings he didn’t want to have. Merlin what he would do to make this stop!

He watched Ginny slowly lower herself onto the bench next to his mother’s prized Windsor rose. He walked forward, her shoulders were hunched forward and her hands cupped her face.

She wasn’t crying at least. Ironically that was the one thought that kept her from bursting into tears.

Ginny peered through the fingers that covered her face and caught sight of polished black leather shoes. Draco was standing before her. She didn’t know what to say to him, for the past two days she had succeeded in hiding all signs of the mental mess that she was. But now at this moment she was unable to hold up her defenses and there was nothing she could do about it.

Draco watched her silent form. Her façade had broken, he knew it would. A sudden coldness seized his heart, if she had broken so could he. Draco dismissed this thought, he would not break he was stronger and more experienced than the young girl in front of him. Her emotions were much closer to the surface.

Nevertheless her obvious pain burned a hole in him though. Draco crouched down onto his haunches in front of Ginny. He slowly brought one hand up and grasped her concealing hand.

One topaz eye was revealed.

“I’m sorry… I’ll be fine in a few minutes” Ginny slowly lowered her other hand voluntarily. “You know… bit of dirt in my eye.”

“Weasley, you’re a Gryffindor, don’t try to lie, it’s really rather pathetic.”

Ginny sighed in resignation, he was right and she knew it. Hearing his insult was just icing on the cake; she was close to her snapping point.

She managed to bite out a “sod off Malfoy” while she attempted to compose herself.

He watched her valiantly try to regain control. He ought to help her, at least get her to talk about whatever it was that had suddenly disturbed her so.

He thought about the past few days. They had chatted, argued and teased. He’d known that it was all part of her attempt to avoid her memories, but he still had enjoyed every minute of it. He almost considered her a friend.

He nearly fell over when that thought entered his mind. He, Draco Malfoy, could not be a friend of a Weasley – it was unheard of. Yet it was true he supposed. He had talked with her more than he had with anybody, even in his own house. She had seen him at his most vulnerable and hadn’t used it against him. He supposed he ought to repay that consideration.

“Weasley…do you want to talk…” Ginny cut Draco off, plastering a smile on her face.

“Like I said, I’m fine… these are beautiful roses.”

“Don’t Ginny” Draco wasn’t going to let her go down this path again.

She met his eyes, her game was up. The sound of her name coming from his mouth gave her pause; so rarely did he call her anything but Weasley. That fact warmed her a bit, took the edge off the memories that were consuming her.

“Why… Why do you care?” Ginny continued to hold his eyes.

“Because… Because that’s what a friend does”

For the second time in as many days Ginny’s mouth hung open in shock. She had never thought that she would hear those words come from his mouth.

Thoughts regarding her relationship with Malfoy had run through her mind numerous times in the past few days. She had valued the time they spent together immensely. Despite her reservations she had to admit that she didn’t think she could have made it though the past week without him. He hadn't pitied her or mocked her, instead he was simply there. It dawned on her that she had begun to consider him a friend, despite her better judgment. He was a prickly wanker there was no doubt about that. But he had moments, such as the one right now, which confused his whole image and her feelings regarding him.

Ginny had been wary of letting her mind run down the path of friendship. She had a less than stellar track record with friendship. Her loneliness during her first year which led to her involvement with Tom was indicative of her troubles. It was one of her greatest insecurities. Growing up there were always her brothers around, they were friends yet they had made it easy for her avoid making friends. When she had reached Hogwarts it had only gotten worse. She had wasted the majority of her years since entering school trying to gain entrance into Ron, Hermione and Harry’s inner circle. This had resulted in isolation from many of her classmates, only Colin chatted with her regularly. Most thought her stuck up, or just a bit off since her first year. Ginny over the years had learned to distance herself or experience the pain of rejection, and she was no fool.

“You consider me a friend?” Ginny managed to choke out.

“I suppose, although don’t make too much of it, I’m not one for girl chats and slumber parties.”

The idea of Draco participating in any of the activities of her dorm mates, brought a smile to her face. Suddenly a mental image of Draco with curlers and an avocado mask painting nails entered her mind and forced a bubble of laughter out.

Draco raised one gilt eyebrow at her.

”Thank you, thank you for making me laugh.”

“I have to say that I have been thanked by women for many things…” Draco winked seductively while Ginny rolled her eyes, “but never for making one laugh.”

“Well there is a first time for everything. I never thought I would consider Draco Malfoy the evil prince of Slytherin a friend, but here I am.”

They sat quietly for a minute, Draco found himself holding one her small hands as she finished composing herself.

“I used to raise roses when I was younger.” She began softly. Draco sat and listened he didn’t know much of friendship but he assumed that this was what she needed now.

“I had every color I could get my hands on. In fact I think I named them the year Ron left for Hogwarts – they were my friends. I was so alone that year; I had never seen the burrow so empty. My brothers hated the roses; they were constantly falling in their thorns while practicing quidditch. I loved them nonetheless.”

Ginny stopped and raised her eyes to his gray orbs.

“They think I did it, don’t they. That’s why I am here. My family thinks that I joined Lord Voldemort.” Her eyes were haunted.

Draco remained silent. He didn’t know exactly what the Weasley’s were thinking, but he was sure that it was along those lines. Dumbledore had asked Draco to prepare Ginny to return home tomorrow. He had mentioned that as a possible attitude that her family would have.

Draco was torn by his intense hatred for the Weasley clan and a desire to prevent Ginny from experiencing any more pain than was necessary. This desire to protect someone was new and unexpected to Draco. He was used to selectively using information, but that was singularly for his own advancement. He wasn’t sure what to do with his knowledge in this situation. He had never been conflicted in such a manner.

“I don’t know what your family is thinking Ginny. Those were the rumors flying about during the summer, but I am sure they didn’t believe it.“

“If they didn’t believe, why am I here then?” Ginny was beyond the point of beating around the bush. She wanted the truth and damn if it hurt her.

“You were too injured to move, Aesa and Professor Dumbledore thought it best if you healed first.”

“I know, I know but why didn’t my family find me in that cave and take me home. Why was it you?” The anger that she had held in for so long began to mix with her sorrow.

“I just happened to find you first. Everyone was busy there were injured everywhere.”

“Don’t fuck with me Draco! Just tell me the bloody truth.” Ginny snapped at him. She had finally lost it; her composure was officially gone.

“Fine. I’ll tell you what I know. When the battle ended I honestly don’t know where your family was. I know Ron was injured,” Ginny gasped suddenly contrite for her outburst. “It wasn’t serious, just a full body bind. I saw a medic with him. I was near the entrance to the cave when Harry and Voldemort had their final battle. We all know the end result, Harry the Bleeding-Hero-of-Everything defeated the Dark Lord, and then experienced a loving reunion with his girlfriend, know-it-all Granger. They ran off into the sunset and left the clean up for everyone else.” Draco’s voice dripped with sarcasm and cynicism.

Ginny was shocked. She knew Draco hated the trio, but she hadn’t known the depths of his anger.

“They do tend to do that.” Ginny responded after a bit. “I suppose I wasn’t expecting that Harry save me, I just didn’t think he would have completely forgotten me. I thought that at least for Ron’s sake he would have looked for me.”

Ginny’s head hung down in a bit of defeat. She had known that Harry didn’t care for her, but to have it so brutally thrown in her face hurt.

“I tried to be a good daughter and friend. I always did what they asked. Damn Tom and that diary! They never trusted me after that day. I was always poor Ginny. Better go sit with Ginny we wouldn’t want her talking with a diary again… I didn’t want pity I just wanted to be the girl they wanted me to be. Apparently I wasn't good enough...” Her frustration was evident in her voice.

Draco lifted her chin up to meet his eyes. It felt as if she had read his soul and voiced all the pain he ever had during his youth. “They do care for you Ginny. Don’t think otherwise.” He grabbed her other hand and forced her attention. “I talked to Dumbledore yesterday, you are going home tomorrow. Your family wants you back.”

Ginny stared dumbly at him. She was going home: home to her mother, her father, and her brothers. God she was scared. What if they did believe that she had worked with, she wasn’t sure she could handle that sort of rejection.

She felt his thumb swipe across her cheek. Merlin, I’m crying! I told myself I wasn’t going to cry.

“Ginny… Please don’t cry. You are strong you will make it. Your family won’t deny you.”

“I’m not so sure of that…” Ginny trialed off, letting her silent tears fall.

Draco gathered her in his arms and they sat on the bench until the sun reached its zenith and threatened to burn their fair skin.

Tomorrow would come and they would deal with it then. Ginny was scared, but somehow she had forged a friendship with the boy in front of her and she knew that they would make it through… together.

__________________________________________________________________________________

This section was like pulling teeth to write. I am not quite satisfied with how it turned out; so there is s good chance that I will put a revised section up. I am open to suggestions. I'll be sure to let everyone know if I decide to change it.

Thank you for the wonderful reviews! I thought I would actually respond to some of them

Reese Darling - Yeah!!! You got exactly what I was going for with the relationship between Draco and Ginny. That is why this chapter was sooooo hard to write. Getting them to put a name to their relationship was difficult - they wanted nothing to do with it : ) Thank you for the praise!!!

Ezmerelda - I'm glad that the last chapter helped explain the relationship that I was trying to establish between Draco and his mother. It is key!

Sexytexy - Oh my! You are such a great reviewer!!!!! I'm glad you enjoyed their interaction - it's fun to write! I haven't yet revealed who the father of her child will be. This story is taking forever to unfold - but I promise you will find out. I'm still psyching myself up to write the scene where she remembers that night exactly - it will be quite the test of my skills. Thanks for the fabulous review!

Kathryn Mason-Sykes - Sorry you don't enjoy the problems with the trio but I'm afraid that it may only get worse - before it gets better. It is all part of my master plan. Here is a secret (I'm not a H/Hr shipper - this has been really hard to write), I will have you know that it doesn't mean it won't end up that way! I must be sneaky...super sneaky! Thanks for the review and I hope that you enjoyed the D/G interaction in this chapter.

Thanks to everyone else who reviewed - I wish I had time to write out a response to everyone, but unfortunately I have to study ugh!

10. The Homecoming Queen

Disclaimer: Who really thinks I could profit off this crap... really now!

AN: Dear god I've reached double digits in chapters I didn't think this day would ever come. Now only if I was spending as much time on my school work as I was this fic...

Anyway - Thank you for the Reviews. I responded to some of you because you are just too clever! I also want to apologize for the comments I made regarding the H/Hr ship that runs through this work. I originally made it that way to get it on Portkey (I wasn't sure if they would take only a D/G fic - or a fic that had Hermione paired with someone else) I also placed them together to flesh out conflict and tensions that the plot bunnies in my head told me were necessary. So don't hunt me down and maim me if Harry, Hermione and Ron are not as you would like. Anyways I like Draco and Ginny much...much...much more! Don't you agree?!?

Chapter 10 - The Homecoming Queen

Tonks ran her fingers through her currently blue hair. It had been a long day and an even longer week. She hadn’t thought that she would have swapped flinging attack curses for filling out paperwork so quickly.

Strong hands descended on her shoulders, rubbing out week’s worth of tension.

“Long day?” Remus leaned down and touched his lips to her neck.

Tonks leaned her head to the side to allow him better access. “Hmmm… yes. But just as long as yours.”

Tonks swiveled in her seat and pulled Remus close. She wanted to kiss the sorrow and weariness away for him, but she knew it wasn’t possible.

“I should come home early all the time!” Remus remarked as he pulled away from her all too enticing kiss.

“I was always proud of my persuasion skills.”

Tonks pulled Remus back to her not wanting to waste a minute of their time together. It had been hard for them the past year. The war had brought them together in so many ways, yet it was what kept them apart as well. They both still worked with the order trying to finish tying up all the lose ends. This resulted in long hours, varying schedules and an altogether lack of time to see each other.

Remus let himself be persuaded by her tongue skimming along the shell of his ear and its subsequent perusal of the sensitive cords of his neck. Merlin how he would love to stay and finish where this was going! But he knew that he was expected back at the Ministry in a few minutes. Arthur was waiting on him. The man was desperate to get home and Remus was taking over his work night so he could do so.

“Tonks… Honey…” Remus placed his hands on her cheeks and forced himself to pull away. “I can’t stay.”

Tonks murmured in protest and tried to move back to her spot in his arms.

“I have to go back. I just came home to pick up the paperwork on McNair and a change of robes.”

”What! Don’t tell me you aren’t coming home tonight!” Passion flashed in her eyes.

“I promised Arthur I would cover for him, the man is crawling at the walls. Apparently Molly has been a basket case ever since Dumbledore came over, the kitchen is full to the brim with scones and apple pie.”

Tonks relented and pulled out of Remus’s arms. “I understand, it's just this separation is… it’s so bloody frustrating.” Tonks’s hair flamed red with her emotion.

“I know… I know… There is nothing I would rather be doing right now than laying in that bed for the next 48 hours, but Arthur needs me, and I can’t deny him.” Remus ran frustrated fingers through his light brown hair giving it that post-sex mused look.

Tonks groaned… Merlin he was a sexy man she thought. “Go! Go now before I ravage you!” Tonks smiled, placed a brief kiss on his lips and gave him a push out the door.

“I expect a rain check when you get home… feel free to wake me”

Remus turned, his robes and files in hand, “Don’t worry I have no problem waking you.”

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Tonks was restless there was no way she was going to be able to sleep now… Damn that wolf she thought.

She padded through the halls toward the kitchen. It was early evening, but she had been on duty at the ministry since before the sun rose that morning. She thought to make herself a glass of hot chocolate, one her favorite indulgences.

Tonks entered the kitchen and was surprised to see Harry slouched at the kitchen table, glaring at a full bottle of Ogden’s Fire Whiskey.

“Did the whiskey offend you?” Tonks paused in the entry, leaning against the jamb.

Harry jerked himself upright, surprised at her voice. “Oh Hi Tonks… I didn’t know you were here?”

“So you thought you could get good and pissed all by yourself.” She moved away from the door and took a place across from him at the small oak table.

“Seemed like a good idea at the time, but it seems as though the fist sip doesn’t want go down.” Harry returned pushing the bottle toward her. “You look a bit… frazzled. Would you like a glass?”

Tonks looked thoughtfully at the bottle – it would probably work better than any mug of hot cocoa. “Anything to keep a friend from drinking alone.”

Tonks paused as Harry handed her the glass filled with the amber alcohol. “I feel that as an adult figure I should be discouraging you, but I find it’s just not in me.”

Harry smiled at her. He couldn’t be happier that Remus had found Tonks. He wasn’t sure that anything would have made Remus happy after the death of his best friend, but she seemed to be doing a rather good job of it.

“I appreciate the thought, but I hazard to say this isn’t my first glass of fire whiskey.”

“We’ll have to swap stories one day Potter, the one with the best tale buys the drinks!”

He stared at the worn weird sisters top and her bright blue hair… something told him that she could top any story he could even imagine to tell.

“So what brought about this desire for drink, Harry? You alright?”

Harry loved her directness. There were times that he grew so tired of the games played around him, of people skirting issues worried that he would be upset.

“I suppose I’m fine.”

“Someone who is 'fine' doesn’t sit at home on a Friday night glaring at a bottle of whiskey!” Tonks pointed out smiling.

“You’re right again, I guess age does produce wisdom” Harry teased.

“You’re skating on thin ice; I don’t think Hermione would be as lenient with the whiskey as I am.”

Harry’s face fell a bit at the mention of Hermione.

Tonks immediately picked up on his shift in mood. Harry’s emotions were often so strong you feel it in the air, if you knew him well enough.

“Is something wrong with Hermione?”

Harry sighed he didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know.”

Tonks took pity on the boy, despite all his worldly experience he was still relatively knew to relationships, especially one as serious as this. ‘Tell me about it, after all I have been in a few relationships.

“I can’t rightfully say what is wrong. She’s just been incredibly distant lately. She refused to come to Percy’s services. I rarely get to see her. I know that she’s upset about her mother but I just want to help her, but she won’t let me.”

Tonks sat silently as Harry talked about the various times he had gone over to her parent’s house to help only to be politely told to bugger off is so many words. She furrowed her brow.

“She’s been like this for days… I think since we went and visited Ron while he was recovering.”

Interesting Tonks thought… since they visited Ron.

“Today I took her to lunch. I asked her if she wanted to come with me to the Weasley’s when Ginny comes home tonight and she froze up. She said that she just couldn’t, that her father needed her tonigh. But, when I took her home her father asked why we were back so early he’s been looking forward to a night by himself. I don’t understand. Ron would really appreciate his two best friends being there. But she won’t come and won’t say why!”

Tonks thought carefully about her response. She had her own personal suspicions as to Hermione’s recent distance and she was sure they stemmed directly from that visit to the Weasleys nearly a week ago. Tonks had worried greatly about Harry when he had started dating Hermione. As a woman she had noticed the currents that ran between the three friends and it didn’t bode well for Harry.

Tonks could tell that Hermione had strong feelings for both boys. She had always thought that perhaps the younger girl had jumped into the relationship with Harry prematurely, but it wasn’t her place to tell Harry that. Harry had been in an incredibly vulnerable position after Sirius’s death. She had been more concerned with Harry finding solace than telling him that his girlfriend may have feelings for his best friend. But now it appeared as if it was all coming back again.

“I don’t know Harry, you two have been through an awful lot lately. You can’t just expect everything to be ironed out without time and work.” Tonks patted his hand reassuringly.

“I know, but I also know that Ron really wanted her to be there when Ginny comes back tonight. She got so upset when I mentioned going over to the Weasleys to see Ginny home. I just don’t understand, Merlin!”

Tonks thought she had been helping but apparently not, at the mention of Miss Weasley Harry only seemed to think further into his depression.

“Is there more?” Tonks asked sympathetically.

“Ginny.”

His one word reply summed up a great deal of his problems.

“You mentioned she was coming home tonight – I believe Remus is covering for Arthur.”

Harry paused for a good while before he answered her. “Yes… yes she is coming home.”

“Is there a problem with that?” Tonks slowly asked taking a sip of her drink “Merlin that burns!”

Harry smiled and downed another shot himself. “No… I don’t know.” He finally admitted.

Tonks cocked her head to the side and looked at Harry, “tell me about it.”

He had always appreciated how easy it was to talk to Tonks, so with little hesitation Harry continued on with his concerns.

“I’m worried for Ron; I don’t know how he is going to handle her being back. I know he wants to see his sister, especially with Percy being gone. But…”

“But what Harry? I don't understand. What do you know that could bother Ron? Ever since the funeral all I have heard from that family is their desire to have her home.”

”I know where she’s been since the final battle…and…and I saw her. She’s not the same, Tonks.”

Tonks was a bit shocked no one knew where the youngest Weasley was except for professor Dumbledore.

“I know that if Ron finds out where she has been, he will probably believe everything that has been said about her.”

”Do you believe it?” Tonks asked pointedly.

“I don’t know. What I saw was brief and confusing. I wish I could tell you more, but I promised Dumbledore I wouldn’t…” Harry stood up abruptly causing his chair to skid across the wooden floors. “Damn it! She was with the enemy. I think she was hurt, but I don’t know. Why was she there?”

Harry paced the room as Tonks watched on. There was more at work in the boy’s head she knew.

“I don’t understand what has happened. I hate it when I’m kept in the dark! If only I hadn’t been so blinded.”

That was surprising Tonks thought. “Blinded?”

He slowed his pacing and faced Tonks. “At the final battle, I left her there. I didn’t even look for her. I saw Hermione and forgot about everything else. I forgot about all those that lost their lives trying to protect me, all those who nearly died, and I forgot about my best friends little sister. I left her there, I ignored her for all those years and now… now she’s with…” Harry, who Tonks now noticed had consumed quite a bit of the whiskey during their talk, leaned against the counter and sunk to the ground.

Guilt, so that’s it she thought. Harry felt guilty that he forgot about Ginny. “Harry” Tonks got up from her spot at the table and assumed a spot on the ground next to him. “Harry, it’s okay. There is no reason to feel guilt about this, you did everything you could. It’s not your fault that Ginny ended up wherever she did. Plus we don’t know what happened. I can’t believe that Ginny helped Voldemort, she didn’t I know it!”

Harry turned his head toward Tonks, appreciating her help. He sighed, she was right. Despite everything he had seen he knew that there was more to the story. He had failed Ginny once and he would try not to do the same again.

Yet he pictured her lying in that bed, Malfoy sitting smug by her side. That image was interrupted by her haunting screams.

”I wish I was as sure as you…” Harry slowly got up. “I told Ron I would be there soon… I’m going to take a walk – sober up a bit.”

Tonks watched his back through the hallway as he headed for the front entrance. It was sad that at 17 he had so much on his on his shoulders, but then again she mused, he wouldn’t be the man he was if he didn’t.

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Molly Weasley placed a second apple pie on the worn butchers block table, next to a small mountain of scones.

“Mum! She’s not an elephant! Really!” Ron turned to his mother in exasperation. “I really don’t think she eat all that.”

”I know Ron…I know. I just want her to feel welcome when she gets here. I figure you boys will eat the rest… am I right.”

Ron nodded with a smile on his face. He was quickly shoved aside by George bounding down the stairs and nicking off with a scone.

“George! How many times do I have to tell you to leave that food alone – It’s for your sister!”

George leaned down to Ron, “We were just going to add a few hexes to it nothing too bad! What a spoilsport!”

“Mum would kill you” Ron grinned at his brother. It was kind of nice having them all here. Bill had arrived earlier that morning, even Harry was going to be here when Dumbledore arrived with Ginny.

A loud knock interrupted Ron and George’s discussion of the best hex to use on a scone. Swelling curses always worked well with food.

A loud squeal of “HARRY! You’re so thin!” caused Ron to wince.

It was followed by a “Good to see you Mrs. Weasley! I swear to you all I do is eat!”

Harry and Molly entered the kitchen, and Molly propelled him toward the platters of food.

“Here Harry have something to eat.”

“But, mum…” George whined.

“Oh hush! He’s skin and bones!”

“What am I… chopped Liver?” George grumbled.

Ron took a seat at the table next to Harry. “How you doing mate? I thought Hermione was coming with?”

Harry closed his eyes then raised his head slowly. “She… ah… couldn’t make it. Her father needed help caring for her mother.”

Ron’s smile slowly disappeared. “Sad to hear that, I hope she gets better soon.”

”We all do, these muggle doctors seem to fix everything the slowest way possible you know! I’m sure she’ll be back to new in no time.”

“Good, I swear I haven’t seen Herm but once. That is not acceptable for best friends.”

“I’ll get her out here soon. I’m sure she’ll want to see Ginny as soon as possible.” Harry quickly filled his mouth with a slice of pie, he hated lying to Ron.

Before Ron could ruminate on the upcoming arrival. Arthur appeared at the front door calling Molly.

“Molly honey we’re home.”

“Arthur I’m so glad you’re home…” Molly stopped dead in her tracks on the way to the front door. “Oh my…we’re…”

Hearing the quaver in his mum’s voice Ron arose from the table with Harry and George following the approached the front door.

Arthur stood inside the entry, with Professor Dumbledore at his side. Behind the two tall men, was a much smaller figure, wrapped in a large Weasley sweater bearing the letter A. Her head was bowed and she seemed to be hiding behind Dumbledore, but the crown of auburn hair was unmistakable.

“Ginny honey…” Arthur began squatting down a bit to be more on eye level with his daughter. “Come on in…”

At the noise, Charlie and Bill followed by Fred had quietly made their way down the stairs.

Ginny slowed stepped away from Dumbledore’s shadow. When she paused he leant down and whispered something in her ear that seemed to put strength into her backbone.

Molly stared at her baby girl. Merlin she was pale. Large purple bags marred the ivory stillness of her face, making her eyes look huge in her face. A slight tremor seemed to be running through her limbs as she moved forward. She looked so tiny in Arthur’s large sweater.

“Oh my baby!” Molly couldn’t stand it. She rushed forward and crushed Ginny in a hug. Ginny bit back a groan, from the pressure Molly put on her, she was still tender, and tentatively embraced her mother.

Molly rocked Ginny back and forth murmuring incomprehensible words, more to sooth herself than to console Ginny.

Arthur slowly approached the two. He placed a hand on Molly’s shoulder. “Molly, I think she needs to breathe.”

Molly started, “Oh Merlin, honey I’m sorry.” She pulled away wiping tears from her cheeks with one hand while the other stroked Ginny’s hair unwilling to lose contact. “Its just that I’m so glad you are home. You have no idea how much I have missed you!”

Ginny stared quietly back at her mom. A smile began to crack into her staid features. This was her mum, the woman who fixed wounds and filled the table with food and love. She was glad to see her mum again.

“I missed you mum.” Ginny’s quiet voice broke through Molly’s franticness, resulting in another batch of tears.

“Oh Gin, I’ve missed you too… Here come in I’ve made your favorites.” Molly grabbed Ginny’s arm and guided her into the dining room. “I’m sorry Professor, I forgot myself, please come in have some food.”

Dumbledore smiled. “I would love to stay Molly, but with school beginning so soon I fear I am too busy to stay for a visit.” Albus bowed graciously and exited the Weasley’s. He was glad that Molly had accepted Ginny in as she did. Ginny had expressed her fears to him on the way over, he had tried to reassure her, but he truly did not know how they would react. His part was over; her family seemed ready to accept her.

As Ginny moved toward the kitchen she caught sight of her brothers.

Bill stood tall at the bottom of the stairs, his long hair and fang-earring still present. He smiled at her a twinkle in his blue eyes. Merlin it had been over a year since she had seen Bill. He still looked the same, but there was weariness about his eyes. As she scanned the rest of her brother she noticed the same look to all of them. Charlie stood next to Bill an old Quidditch shirt across his broad shoulders. His hands were just as scarred as before. Even Fred, a source of boundless energy, looked older and more tired, but the shock of green hair from a failed experiment reminded her of the Fred of old.

As she crossed the living room, her eyes came in direct contact with George, then Ron and finally... Harry.

George was holding a scone with spikes now protruding from it. He caught her looking at it and smiled sheepishly. She loved the twins, Merlin how she had missed them.

Her eyes met Ron next; he was silently staring at her. She felt his perusal. It wasn’t cold or assessing, it was more familial. It felt like he was making sure she was okay. Ginny suddenly appreciated her brother more than she ever had. She had been scared to see Ron, when she hadn’t seen him following the battle, she was certain that he thought the worst. Her eyes scanned his lanky form. He seemed thinner, the affects of his injury still apparent.

As her mother pulled her along she came across the last in the group, Harry. She felt his eyes on her. A shiver ran up her spine. She didn’t think her feelings regarding Harry could be more confused. The part of her that had loved him for years still sought his approval over every action, but the girl who had lain abused and ignored couldn’t forget his betrayal. Memories of the night he had stormed into Draco’s flooded her memory, causing her to miss a step. She could still picture Harry in his robes leaning over her, and the tide of forgotten memories washing over her. She knew Harry had seen too much, but she had no idea what he thought. He probably thought the worst. Had he told her family that she was at Malfoy Manor, would they think that damning evidence? She didn’t think that he would be forgetting that she had been with Draco for the past week anytime soon.

Ginny lowered her head unable to bear the scrutiny any longer. She knew that people thought the worst of her, but she hadn’t been quite ready to face silent accusations yet.

Harry couldn’t take his eyes off Ginny. She looked so young enveloped in the oversized sweater. Neat black dress trousers accompanied her top. Harry’s eyes narrowed. Draco must have given her those. Harry reminded himself that he couldn’t convict her yet. His own guilt washed over him, he needed to talk to her soon.

Arthur met with Ginny and her mother as they entered the food leaden kitchen. “Here Gin have a seat” he pulled a kitchen chair out for her.Molly placed a plate of food in front of her and made to watch her eat.

”Molly honey, let the poor girl eat. Come with me – let’s make a pot of tea”

Arthur pulled Molly away into the kitchen. Ginny slowly picked up a fork and broke a piece of apple pie off. She really wasn’t hungry, but she appreciated the effort her mother was making enough that wanted to eat to make her happy.

Her brothers stood behind her in a mass of red hair and freckles. They seemed unsure on how to approach her.

Bill finally took a seat on one side of her and tweaked a strand of hair “Hey Gin-bean! Long time no see”

Ginny raised solemn eyes to Bills, “Hey yourself…” She wanted so bad to be the little sister that she had always been to Bill, but she felt awkward and couldn’t pinpoint why.

“Mom’s been cooking for days – you’d better start eating.”

Ginny smiled at him, she had seen little of Bill since he married. She was happy for him; he and Fleur were supremely happy last she recalled. How he tamed the Veela she never knew. “How’s Fleur?”

Bills face lit up. “She's great... we're still getting used to being parents!”

Ginny smiled, inside though she ached. She hadn’t even known her sister-in-law was pregnant. Still the thought of a child caused an emotionally riot inside her.

”Oh Bill, Congratulations!”

Bill seemed to puff up as he went on to describe Lucas now almost 4 months old. Apparently he had been born not long after Ginny had been taken captive. He and Fleur had been on a mission and hadn’t been able to let the family know before she had the baby. Apparently Lucas was the brightest 3 and a half month old out there!

Bill glanced at his wristwatch and remembered that Fleur would be portkeying in with Lucas soon and he needed to finish readying his room for them. Charlie came and sat with her for a bit. She found out he was looking for a job in London now. Ginny was rather shocked at this revelation; she didn’t think that Charlie would ever leave Romania and his dragons.

The twins came over with a bang, quite literally that is. George exploded the prickly scone he held all over Fred.

”It’s charmed to explode on when a certain word is said. The owner can personalize it as they see fit. Haven’t got a name yet, thought you could come up with one now that you are home.” Fred smiled at her as he mopped gooey scone batter off his nose.

They were making such an effort to welcome her back, Ginny felt a tear form.

”I’ll think about it and let you know what I come up with.”

The twins bounded off before Molly could identify that the bang she just heard came from one of her scones.

Ginny was left now with her Ron and Harry. They were quiet for a minute. Then Ron slowly approached the table.

”Hey Gin.” Ron didn’t know why this felt so awkward. It shouldn’t this was his younger sister, his only sister. But he couldn’t shake the feeling.

“Hey” she replied quietly. “How are you feeling? I hear you were injured.” Ginny could have slapped herself for that comment. Now Ron was going to ask questions, questions she didn’t want to answer.

“I’m doing fine now; it was just a rather nasty body bind.” Ron looked at her questioningly.

“Dumbledore. Dumbledore told me that you had been injured.” Real smooth Gin, she admonished herself.

Ron knew she was lying. He could always tell when Ginny was flat out lying; her cheeks turned a resounding pink. He didn’t know why she would be lying about this, unless… No he would not think anything about it.

“I should be asking how you are doing. You look good, a bit pale though”

Ginny laughed half-heartedly “You know us red-heads we’re always pale.” Ginny hated this awkwardness.

Ron was lost; he didn’t know what to say to her. She wasn’t the same old Ginny but he didn’t know what it was about her that was different. He couldn’t ask her the questions he most wanted answered.

Harry watched the dialogue between the two. It was almost painful to observe. He hoped for their sake that they would be able to get over this uneasiness that was permeating their conversation.

Harry wanted to talk to Ginny, to find out what she had been doing with Malfoy, to determine if she was okay, but the weary look in her eyes kept him from asking to talk to her when Ron was done.

As Ron turned to leave, his head down in defeat, Ginny stalled him.

“Hey Ron, where’s Perce? Is he still at the ministry working late as always?” The first genuine smile seemed to cross her features.

Ron froze. She didn’t know. How was he going to tell his sister that her favorite brother was dead? It had nearly killed her when Percy had fallen out with their parents. She had worked day and night to get both sides to see reason. There was no way he could break her heart.

Harry grabbed Ron’s arm and gave him a look offering to take the mission.

Ron shook his head, he would tell Ginny.

Ginny watched her brother closely. His eyes were clouded, why? Why would a simple question regarding Percy cause that reaction?

It began to dawn on her. Oh Good God! Percy was dead! She vaguely recalled Harry’s accusatory words now the night he showed up at the Manor. “Hasn’t your family done enough to the Weasley’s isn’t killing one enough.”

Ginny’s fork hit her plate with a loud clank. She doubled over. Ron rushed forward. At the sound Molly and Arthur came in from the kitchen.

Ginny raised her face to Ron. It was dry but etched in pain. She was beyond crying, there had simply been too much for her to deal with.

Ron, forgetting all the past complications held his sister.

“He’s dead isn’t he?”

Ron nodded his head. When she didn’t see his response as her face was buried in his chest she looked up. “Yes Gin, he didn't make it.”

That was all it took; she limply stayed in Ron’s arms as the world moved around her. She saw her mother well up with tears as she heard Ron tell Ginny. She saw her father attempt to console her mother and she saw Harry standing off to the side a grim expression on his handsome features.

Ginny closed her eyes, she would think again in the morning. She would owl Draco, and she would get through this. She would.

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Next chapter

Harry talks with Ginny

Ginny experiences a Nightmare

Ron finds out where she has been

A possible visit from our favorite Slytherin

11. As the Owl Turns...

Disclaimer: I own a severe hangover and that is about it!

Chapter 11 – As the Owl Turns

Silence… There was silence again. The walls of Malfoy Manor loomed large around Draco, seeming to swallow him whole. He had never truly understood how desolate his home was.

Now that she’s gone – it’s silent.

Draco never thought that he would admit that a Weasley could make his home feel more…well homey. But she had. Disgusting really he thought. How had ha managed to let someone into his life.

Instead of pondering this idea, like he had been doing since the moment Professor Dumbledore arrived yesterday to take her away, Draco arose from his chair and made for the front door. Flying would do him good.

Before he could make it to the polished mahogany doors, a bundle of feathers propelled themselves directly into his chest.

“Oof!” Draco caught the jittering mass of feathers and stared in abject horror at what he presumed was some sort of owl.

The small owl lifted off the palm of his hand and excitedly fluttered about, making small noises of impatience. Draco, amidst all the movement, was able to see a letter attached to the owl’s leg. He moved to untie it, struggling with the owl.

Proud that its duty had been completed, Pigwidgeon, flew around Draco’s head anxious for praise and perhaps an owl treat.

“Go! You don’t need to wait for a reply!” Pig’s flitting slowed a bit as he slowly made his way toward an open window. He wasn’t sure if a reply was necessary but he sure as hell would not send it with that owl!

Draco held the roll of parchment in his hand, wondering who the letter could be from, he took a seat at his desk.

The letter began simply

Draco -

The handwriting was distinctly female.

I’m here. I’m sure you are surprised to see me writing you already, after all I’ve haven’t even been home for a full day.

A smile crept into his features. Ginny. Her letters were just like her in person, full of chatter.

I hate to say this but I think I actually miss your great monstrosity of a home. Now don’t go thinking that it’s you I miss, just your house.

Impertinent chit! He was glad he supposed that her return had not been so bad that she could joke with him now. A warning bell went off Draco’s head at that thought. This was typically Ginny, joking and teasing were her defense mechanisms.

I know what you are thinking right now… and no I am not being cocky! You are sure there is something wrong and that’s why I am joking around with you. I’ll be honest with you there is…

Percy’s gone. I came home to be told that Percy died in the battle.

Draco paused in his reading. The news wasn’t a surprise to him, he had known after Potter had shown up and accused him of hurting Ginny. Draco had inquired to professor Dumbledore, oh so politely, as to what the hell Potter was talking about. Dumbledore had cautioned Draco from relaying this message to Ginny in her current state. As she recovered it slipped his mind, and when he did remember he felt it perhaps something she should hear from her family.

Ginny had talked with him a bit during their time together about her older brother Percy. Of all her brothers, she had often felt a connection with Percy. She thought it odd since he was so stuffy most of the time. But it was those times where he let down his guard; they had occurred most frequently with her, that you saw the real Percy. He had been especially understanding of her, and her troubles at school and with Ron. He was sort of the odd brother out himself. Bill and Charlie were older, the twins always had themselves, and Ron had Harry and Hermione. That left Ginny and Percy. Unlikely confidants.

That must have broken her heart. He wondered how she was doing. She had worried herself sick several times the night before she left, wondering how her family would react. He hoped this hadn’t made the situation worse.

I don’t know how to react. I loved Perce so much, and I didn’t get any chance to say goodbye. I don’t even know where he is buried.

Everything was so awkward when I came home. Mum was trying so hard to make me feel welcome. It was almost too much, like she was trying to hard, like she was trying to compensate for something. All my brothers were there. They each came up to talk with me, but nothing felt normal.

I guess I shouldn’t expect that everything would be normal, but after all that has happened that is all that I wanted.

It was especially hard to talk to Ron, he seemed to be questioning me, wondering what my motives were. I know you said to be prepared for that, but its one thing to think about it, but its an entirely different issue to actually be confronted with it.

The worst part was that Harry was there. He stood there giving me sad eyes. I kept wondering if he had told my family that I was staying with you, and if so were did that convict me in their eyes.

On one hand I wish they did know, then all the silent accusations would be explained and I wouldn’t have to wonder if they just thought these terrible thoughts about me, based solely on my merits. I’m sorry to say this to you. I know you are none of these things, I know that you are beautiful person, but no one else does.

Draco sighed, he understood exactly what she was saying. He small compliment imbedded in her statement caught him off guard. Draco Malfoy a beautiful person? He begged to differ and he gathered so would the rest of the world. But he took her compliment, internalized it and kept it for a rainy afternoon where he could think more on it, if the spirit moved him. Not bloody likely though!

I’m sorry for my ramblings here. I am sitting in my room, my god-awful childhood room – look how you have spoiled me – staring at pictures on the walls. I can’t sleep, there are too many thoughts swirling though my head, I see pictures of Percy, pictures of Ron, Harry and Hermione. But, I find that there are no pictures of me, it’s almost as if I didn’t exist in their world. Listen to me ramble on about things I have no knowledge!

Ginny deftly changed the topic away from her melancholy musing.

Anyway I wanted to let you know that I miss you - there you go I said it! Now take that smirk off your face and write me a letter back. – I don’t know how I will make it the rest of this week before school starts without you.

Ginny

Sorry about the owl its Ron’s I know he isn’t up to Malfoy standards.

Draco stared at the letter for an indefinite period of time. There was so much said in the letter and yet so much left unsaid.

He missed her too. It pained him to admit it but he did.

Draco rummaged through his desk produced a quill and parchment and set about writing a letter to… his friend… Ginny Weasley.

***************************************************************************

Ginny sat atop her yellow comforter. She smoothed its worn patchwork squares with one hand. It was so unlike the silk brocade she had become accustomed to at Malfoy Manor. Yet this blanket was filled with love and memories. The love and memories for the most part were able to outweigh the loneliness and hurt that now swirled around her heart. Ginny felt at war with herself. Her family had always been a rock. They were quirky and poor, yet deep down, even when her mother was being overprotective; she always thought that they loved her and that that love was unconditional. Was she wrong?

Ginny was interrupted from further ruminations by a knock at her door. She knew it couldn’t be her brothers they never knocked.

“Yes” Ginny responded.

“Can I come in?” The voice of Harry Potter replied.

Ginny sighed, was she ready for this. She knew it was coming; so she had better get it over with now.

“I’m decent, come on in.”

Harry slowly pushed the door open and hesitantly walked in. It looked to Ginny almost as if he were dreading this talk as well.

Harry neared her desk and gestured toward the small wooden chair that rested in front of her desk. Ginny inclined her head inviting him to sit.

“So… Did you sleep well?” Harry leaned forward with his hands clasped and asked Ginny.

Ginny stared at him for a minute. Did he really expect to sit and chat about their lives? Ginny had a pounding headache from lack of sleep and she wasn’t in the mood to deal with this. She rubbed her thumbs slowly over her temples trying to ease the intense throbbing.

Harry sighed; he should have known that circling the issue would accomplish little except to annoy Ginny.

“I wanted to apologize to you Ginny.” Harry suddenly began. He stood up, suddenly unable to sit still in the small green chair.

There was little that could have come out of Harry’s mouth that could have shocked Ginny more than that last statement. She watched him pace the small confines of her room.

Harry continued on as Ginny watched in utter shock. “I wanted to apologize for my actions at the Malfoys. I don’t know how much you remember, but I obviously frightened you a great deal.”

Ginny didn’t remember him directly, she remembered angry green eyes and black swooping robes.

“It’s okay Harry, you don’t need to apologize for that. Really anyone could have scared me at that precise moment.”

“Stop Ginny, don’t let me off the hook.” Harry needed to get the heaviness of his mistreatment of the girl in front of him, off his heart. “I have been a bleeding arsehole.”

Ginny’s mouth formed a surprised ‘o’.

Harry braced himself; it was time to face up to what bothered him most. “I’msorryIdidn’t saveyou…” He rushed his last statement out in one breath, expelling it from his soul.

“wha…” Ginny began unable to form coherent words.

Harry took a deep breath and began again. “I’m sorry Ginny. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there at the end when you needed me.” He stalled his pacing and faced Ginny who sat completely still on her small bed.

“I’m so sorry, that you were hurt and that I ignored you. I’m sorry that, that prat, Malfoy had to find you.”

The haze with which Ginny was taking in all his words was broken by his harsh reference to Draco. Her eyes glinted with anger. All his past apologizes seemed to fly from her head with his last comment.

“Don’t. say. Anything. About. Draco.” She bit out.

Harry was shocked by her response. Anger was the last reaction he expected. Draco! His mind screamed. Since when did they refer to Malfoy, as Draco. He wanted to say more on the subject, but first he needed to get out everything he had planned on saying.

Harry continued right on, as if she hadn’t objected to his reference to Malfoy. “I know that you were hurt, and that you had nothing to do with Percy’s death.”

Ginny mentally gasped, people had actually thought she had something to do with her brother’s death. The thought was appalling. Tears began to form in her eyes. Damn, she thought, not now! She thought she had cried her fill for Percy earlier, when the sun began to touch the sky and she could no longer hold it in.

“Oh Ginny!” Harry moved forward, his green eyes full of compassion.

He embraced Ginny as the tears fell unabated down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry you had to lose Percy. I know just how you feel. When Sirius died I didn’t think that I would ever be able to wake up and feel normal again.” He soothed her back.

Ginny blocked all thoughts from her mind, yet confusion swirled around her. Here she was - Harry Potter had just spent a good five minutes apologizing to her, now he was holding her in his arms. His rumpled black hair glinted in the sunlight, and his eyes were a rich emerald and were directed solely at her. Ginny couldn’t let all the feelings she had always held for him enter her mind. He had forgotten her, she must remember. He didn’t want her, he never had. He had eyes only for Hermione…

Ginny finally stopped remembering and just let herself cry, cry for all that had been lost.

*******************************************************************************

Ron sat outside on the old tire swing that and been hung from an old elm tree. He slowly rocked back and forth. Harry had just left to head back to Godrics Hollow. Before he left Harry mentioned that he had chatted with Ginny that morning and that Ron should probably do the same.

It wasn’t that Ron didn’t want to talk to Ginny, he was just unsure of what to say. He knew from Harry that Ginny was extremely upset over Percy; that was to be expected. He could find words of consolation for that, but he couldn’t find words to ask about what happened this summer. He didn’t know if he should just ask her or let her tell him when she was ready. His mother seemed intent on forgetting that anything had happened. Ron didn’t agree with this, but it definitely made it easier for her.

Ron didn’t think that Dumbledore would let Ginny be here, if she had actually had any involvement with Voldemort. He couldn’t see his sister in league with evil bastards like McNair or the Malfoys.

A brief smile of triumph crossed Ron’s face, finally a year without Malfoy. Ron was certain that he had finally been ‘removed’ in the war, and out-ed regarding his true beliefs. Finally they wouldn’t have to hear his sneering references to Weasel, Potty and Mudblood.

Merlin how he hated Malfoy! Draco Malfoy stood for everything that Ron abhorred in life. Malfoy’s abuse of money and power made Ron seethe. He had abused so many people including those closest to Ron. He recalled the times Malfoy had called Hermione “mudblood”, the times that he had hunted Harry and them down under Professor Umbridge’s order, and then there was his allegiance with Voldemort. Ron knew he was in league with the Dark Lord. His and his father’s name had come up prominently in the scouting reports that Ron had received during the battles this summer. Ron was infinitely glad that Draco Malfoy would not be present to harm anyone else he loved.

A loud bang, followed by a plume of purple smoke caught Ron’s eye. The twins were still perfecting their exploding-on-command scones. Ron waited a moment and was rewarded by a sharp “Fred! George!” from their mother. While he watched the tongue lashing that Fred and George were receiving, he caught sight of a slight figure sitting on the roof. It was Ginny.

She was sitting outside her bedroom window in her ‘special place’. She had always claimed the ledge outside her window as her own. In a family as large as theirs everyone needed a place they could escape to.

He sat for a time, watching his sister, wondering if he had the courage to take the initiative and talk with her. She had to feel awkward, the air was thick with uncertainty and she had to notice it.

Ron stood up and with a declarative walk he headed inside. He wanted to know his sister again!

Ginny saw Ron head inside and knew it was his turn to talk with her. Hopefully this would not result in her dissolving into tears. Merlin how she hated crying!

Once upstairs, Ron quickly entered her room and poked his head out the window.

“Got room for one more out there?”

Ginny smiled at him, she loved Ron and wanted to do her part to remove the tension that hung over their heads.

“Come on out, it’s a beautiful night.”

The two sat silent for a minute enjoying the crisp night air.

“Gin-bean…”

The use of her childhood nickname eased some of the anxiety that was gripping her heart.

“You know I love you right. You are my favorite sister.”

Ginny playfully punched him on the arm, “you git! I’m your only sister!”

“Ow” Ron teasingly rubbed the spot on his arm that she had hit.

“Seriously though, I do love you and I miss having you close.“

Ginny lowered her head. She didn’t know how to respond to his observation. They had grown apart over the years. Ron had Harry and Hermione who took up most of his attention. They had never made room for Ginny in their trio.

“I came up here with the intention of asking you about what happened…” Ginny moved to interrupt him.

Merlin was she ready to tell anyone what happened! She hadn’t even fully remembered herself. Could she tell Ron all the terrible things that she did remember? Would he blame her for her actions? Would he be blinded by his temper and typical male obtuseness?

Ron held up his hand to stop her objection, “But I realized that this is something you need to tell me about – when you are ready. I can’t force this information out of you. It wouldn’t be right.”

Ginny sighed in relief. She knew deep down the answers to all her questions was, no.

“Thank you, Ron.” Ginny pulled her brother into a hug. “That was exactly what I needed to hear.”

Ron hugged her back, glad to have his sister with him.

“I do want to share with you what happened. It’s just that I don’t… I don’t know everything that happened yet.”

Ron looked confused.

“I was seriously injured.”

”Dumbledore told us that, he said you were too injured to move until yesterday.” Ron told Ginny.

“It’s true; I didn’t regain consciousness until a few days ago. The fact is I didn’t remember anything that happened when I did wake up.”

“Nothing?”

“I vaguely recalled the train ride. It wasn’t until…” Ginny was going to mention Harry’s visit, but figured that it would only bring up questions that she didn’t want to answer quite yet. “A couple of days ago that I remembered anything.”

“What I did do remember is incomplete and scattered. The memories are hard for me to understand right now. I promise you Ron that when I am ready, I will tell you everything. I want you to understand.”

Ron carefully examined her last statement. What was she going to ask him to understand?

“Whenever you feel comfortable Gin, I’ll be there for you.”

The pair sat in companionable silence until a loud flap of wings interrupted them.

A large tawny eagle owl gracefully came to a rest on the edge of the roof in front of Ginny.

Ron eyed the owl suspiciously. Who would be sending them an owl, especially an owl as expensive looking as this owl.

Ginny stared at the eagle owl, which fluttered its wings regally in impatience. Merlin! It was from Draco!

She leaned forward and the owl extended a leg, offering up a role of parchment. She slowly unrolled it, trying to buy herself time before Ron started asking questions. It was inevitable, her brothers had always been nosy especially with her the youngest and only girl.

After she had begun to read, Ron tried to peer around the edge of the paper. Ginny swiveled to the side to avoid his gaze. Ron had seen this maneuver before, it hadn’t worked then and it wouldn’t now.

“Who’s the letter from Ginny? Is it from a boy” Ron teased in a sing-song voice. This was the typical Weasley response when one got an unidentifiable letter. They hadn’t let a letter George got from Katie Bell last summer go for months.

Ginny wrinkled her nose at Ron in response. “No, it’s none of your business.” She smiled at him, Merlin how they used to torment each other. She quickly thought up a response, “It’s a letter from Dumbledore with the books I need.”

Ron grinned broadly, he had her now! “If that’s all it is you wouldn’t mind me reading it then, would you?” Ron moved quickly and snatched the parchment from her hands.

Ginny’s eyes went round in horror. This was the worst thing that could have happened. She and Ron were finally getting somewhere and now… now he would read her letter from Draco and all would be lost.

Ron held the parchment out, “Anyways, that letter from Dumbeldore came last week. It must be from a boy…” Ron trailed off as his eyes scanned the bottom of the letter and they came into contact with the distinctive signature of ‘Draco’.

His eyes slowly moved over to his sister, who was staring down at her hands, unable to face his reaction. Ron flipped his eyes back to the letter and read the first couple of lines.

Ginny,

I knew you would miss me, who wouldn’t. I know it’s just because of my good looks, influence, wealth, and of course my prowess in bed.

Ron felt all the blood rush to his head. Immediate anger thudded though his head and his face became blotchy with rage. Ron didn’t bother to read any further, he didn’t need to, in fact he had read too much.

Everything he had fought to disbelieve about his sister flooded back. The touching conversation they had just finished was trampled by his flash anger and disgust. Draco Malfoy, his sister was sleeping with Draco Malfoy.

Ron knew he had a terrible temper, it ran with the red hair. For the most part he sought to control it, preventing it from clouding his reason. But this letter seemed to be the straw that broke the camels back. There were too many times recently where he had quelled his natural anger, and he just didn’t have it in him anymore.

Ron turned angry eyes on his sister; his mind was full of visions of Malfoy and Ginny, of a betrayal to their family.

Ginny could feel his penetrating gaze boring into her soul, finding her guilty. She slowly raised her own eyes.

Their eyes met, all Ron saw was guilt confirming everything. He stood up without grace and moved for the window. He needed to go think, to ruminate on everything that had just occurred.

Before he reached the opening he turned around.

“You thought you could fool everyone didn’t you? Disguting!” Ron curled his lip and continued, “It’s going to kill mum. I don’t know how you could do this to her, wasn’t killing Percy enough.” With that Ron threw the letter back at Ginny, entered the window and left her.

Ginny picked up the letter from her lap where it had come to rest and began to read the words Draco sent.

She read the first line and understood Ron’s reaction. She wanted to be angry at Draco for writing that line, but she couldn’t. If she had read that line first, she would have smiled and forgotten for a moment the sorrow that was a constant in her life. That was his reason for including the raunchy comment and she loved that he understood her so well.

She continued on through the letter, needing to feel comfort from his words. He confessed to actually missing her as well. Of course it wasn’t in those exact words, but Ginny understood his reluctance to state anything of that nature so boldly.

He made some disparaging comments about Harry which was to be expected. The comments made her smile. Ginny was unsure how she felt about Harry after their conversation. He had been nothing but apologetic and understanding, which served to utterly befuddle her. She needed time to determine her feelings.

His letter continued with a much more serious tone:

I am sorry for your loss. I am glad though that you learned from your family and that you can all grieve together. It is my understanding that he died in the heart of the battle fighting for what was right.

Those words were so unlike Draco she thought, but they were obviously written for her benefit. She understood why, if he had known of Percy’s death, he had waited for her to hear about if from her family. Although at this very moment she would have preferred being with Draco than with her family.

Ginny looked up at the eagle owl that remained perched on the edge of the roof looking supremely bored. She tore off the edge of Draco’s letter she reached inside the window and found a quill with ink.

She penned a quick and simple letter…

Draco,

I need you

She quickly strapped it to the eagle Owl’s leg.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a treat for you.” Ginny ran her hand down the bird’s sleek feathers. “My but you are a gorgeous animal.” The owl seemed to puff up at her praise. “Can you take this to your master and quick.”

The owl hooted in response and headed off unfurling its magnificent wings.

Ginny wrapped her arms around her knees and lowered her head. She was scared. She didn’t know what to do next. Ron was probably telling everyone that she was Draco Malfoy’s whore and that she had been in collusion with the Dark Lord from the beginning.

She stared at the expanse of land angling out from the Burrow. Darkness cloaked the ground turning it into a starry wonderland blanketed by night.

Hurry Draco, she thought, I don’t know how long I can handle this.

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Thanks everyone for the reviews! Your encouragement and praise are greatly appreciated.

12. In the Middle of the Night

Disclaimer: I do not the characters of his story this semblance of a plot is all mine.

AN: Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than I typically try to put out – but it was at the perfect stopping point. Consequently I have already started the next chapter – my pathetic attempt to placate : )

Chapter 12 – In the Middle of the Night

The night air was crisp and cool, rushing through his hair. Draco rode his broom with precision and speed. Occasionally he looked down to check a compass he held in one hand.

What was it about Ginny Weasley that constantly put him in the sky

Draco again checked that he was following the needle on the compass which was pointed toward the “Burrow.”

Placing the compass back in the inside pocket of his robes he felt again to make sure the letter he had received was still there.

(Flashback)

Draco was sitting in his study going over his advanced arithmancy book. With nothing else to do he was forced into studying. He was just about to give it all up and head for bed when his eagle owl landed softly on the desk in front of him.

Draco was a bit surprised he hadn’t expected a reply quite so soon.

He pulled the parchment off his owl’s leg to find that it was merely a torn-off bit from the letter he had sent to Ginny. He noted the distinctive green and silver border that remained.

Draco – I need you

That was all it said, no name, nothing. Draco, of course, knew who it was from. He stared at the scrap almost afraid to think about the words on the paper.

His immediate reaction was to grab his broom and go to her. Very rarely in his life had anybody ‘needed’ him. Something about her request went straight to his heart – that part of him which he had worked so long to close off. He knew how much those words must have cost her, she avoided all manifest signs of dependency that she could, much like him. In such a case his instincts told him to help her. He couldn’t leave her when she needed him; he wouldn’t do that to anyone ever again.

But his conscious was warring with the part of his personality that had been beaten into him for years, the Malfoy. He couldn’t go the Burrow – Merlin was she joking! Under no circumstances did he desire to enter the nest of the Weasley’s. In addition he was sure that his reception would not be warmly met by Ginny’s brothers or her parents. He knew that his father was responsible for Percy’s death (at least that is what the papers said) and he doubted that the son of Percy’s killer would be welcome.

The Malfoy in him also warned him against feeling too much for Ginny. Keep it all on an impersonal level. You are a Malfoy - you do not get close to anyone, especially emotionally. Attachments make you weak. When you head back to school it will not be easy, many will want to take you down. You musn’t be weak!

Despite the best efforts of the Malfoy in him, his instincts prevailed and had him grab a robe and his broom and take off for the burrow.

(end flashback)

It was the middle of the night by the time he reached Ottery St.Catchpole and came across the ramshackle home known as the Burrow.

Draco’s lip curled up in disgust. Merlin how could anyone live in a home like this? Gnomes ran gleefully across the uneven lawn. Forgotten laundry hung in the backyard. Various muggle contraptions littered the yard.

Draco questioned his sanity – what was I thinking.

He silently flew alongside the windows of the home, hoping to catch a glimpse of a female room. The last thing he wanted was to wind up in Ron’s room. Draco shuddered at the thought. He could do without seeing Weasel curled up in his grubby bed.

Finally on the third floor he caught sight of a room containing yellow walls and flowery curtains. Although he wouldn’t put it past Ron to have such a room he crossed his fingers and prayed that it was Ginny’s room.

The window was easy to open, it lay unlocked – something that would never happen at his home. He dismounted and swung one leg over the sill. It landed quickly on a desk. Draco readjusted and brought his other leg in, now sitting on the desk. His broom, by command floated to the ground.

The room was dark, the moonlight illuminating just enough for him to make out the furniture. He sat upon a desk; to his right was a dresser. The top of which was covered in trinkets and pictures. There were some posters on the wall, but he couldn’t make out what they advertised in the dim light. Across from him was a small bed. It had to be less than half the size of his bed at home.

Poor girl - he thought with a smile – how did one sleep in such a small space.

There was a small lump in the covers curled near the wall. He remembered how he always found her curled into a ball as she slept. He also remembered that typically when he had found her such it was at the beginning or in the midst of a nightmare.

He inched closer to the bed sidestepping a jumper that had been carelessly tossed on the ground.

At the moment she looked peaceful, but he knew that it wouldn’t last.

A small voice in his head told him this was not a good situation. If her nightmare escalated, it would surely call in half of her family. As much of the thought of being in the company of 7 Weasley’s made Draco’s night; he rather thought that situation should be avoided.

Draco sat on the edge of the bed, trying to ignore the horrid comforter that he was resting on.

Her back was to the wall, and she was curled on her side. Her red hair was pillowed behind her spread across the pillow. She looked especially pale in the moonlight, the dash of freckles across her nose stood out a bit more.

Draco found himself simply looking at her; he didn’t move he just watched her slow breathing. Her lashes caressed her pale cheek, slightly fluttering with her dreams. She looked so small curled into a tight ball. She resembled a small animal hiding her vulnerabilities from attack. Draco knew she abhorred weakness and helplessness, but as she lay there sleeping she exemplified all those characteristics. He supposed her subconscious let out those feelings the only time it had opportunity.

Draco was torn from his silent reverie by the sound of increased breathing. Her dream was escalating, he could tell from experience.

He placed a hand on her shoulder prepared to hold her if she began to struggle against her dream. He knew he had to act; he had to keep her from crying out.

“Ginny?” He whispered in her ear, his breath stirring the small curls that lay near her ear.

She remained trapped in her dream world. Her lips began to move releasing small bits of sound.

“Shhh… Gin” Draco was getting nervous. Mind you, he wasn’t scared of the Weasley’s he just valued his face the way it was.

As she continued to ignore his attempts to wake her, Draco decided to resort to desperate measures.

“Bloody Weasley. I rode halfway across England on a broom because you send me an owl. Now you won’t even wake up.” Draco muttered as he bent down to pull Ginny up.

He hitched his hands under her arms and lifted her up. Ginny began to murmur in protest. He gathered her limp body into his arms. Assuming the role of comforter that he had held during her time at his home, Draco soothed her back and tried to still her dream.

Tonight though, Ginny was too deep in her memories to respond to his ministrations. Her murmurs became louder, soon taking the form of full words.

“Where’s Herm… No… Tom...Don’t touch…” Ginny bit out snippets of memory.

It seemed as though what Draco knew about comforting wasn’t going to be enough tonight. He could do nothing but watch her fight her demons. He hated having to watch her struggle helplessly. He hated caring about her, but he had reconciled that it was not something he could negotiate. Ginny had worked his way into whatever of a heart he possessed, as much as it galled him to admit.

Before Draco could do anything to stop it, Ginny let loose with a scream the likes of which he hadn’t heard her make before. It sent a chill down his spine. What in Merlin caused that reaction – did he actually want to know?

After the sound was wrentched from her soul, she seemed to come to.

“Dra… Draco… is that you?” Ginny’s eyes fluttered open as she lay with her face pressed against his chest.

“Shhh... yes Ginny. Did you think I wouldn’t come?” Draco answered her sleepy question. “Boy do you owe me though, look at this place!”

Ginny’s lips curved into a slight smile at his typical response. His teasing remarked pushed aside any insecurity that his first remark had brought up. She had questioned whether he would come. She was asking a lot especially from a boy like Malfoy who conceded nothing to anyone.

“I’m shocked I didn’t think that it was physically possible for a Malfoy to enter the Burrow – I’ll have to tell Fred that his insufferable prat wards didn’t work!”

Draco smirked; she really was rather good at this. “As much as I would love to sit and chat with you, especially clad as you are...” Ginny smacked his arm, “I believe that we will have MANY bigger problems in a moment.” Ginny looked back at him confused.

Her confusion was quickly cleared up as footsteps could be heard outside her door.

“You screamed awfully loud at the end there. Any suggestions?” Draco whispered.

Before they could even discuss a plan of action Ginny’s bedroom door flew open and the worried face of Ron entered the room.

“Gin, Ginny are you okay? I heard you scream” Ron let loose with a litany of concern before he even had time to register the room’s second occupant.

Ron had been up most of the night thinking about what he had said to his younger sister. He regretted his rash reaction. He as always had let his temper get the best of him. Maybe he shouldn’t have accused her quite so quickly. As the night wore on he had finally decided to talk to her again in the morning and apologize for his actions. Her scream had jarred him from the first bit of sleep that he had been able to find. Its depth was chilling, it sounded worse than physical pain.

Ron had taken off from his room down the hall at a dead run. He threw the door open ready to slay a dragon.

What he didn’t expect to see was his sister held by Draco Malfoy. He was struck speechless for a moment.

At first he wondered if Draco was hurting his sister – she had screamed. But then he noted the way her cheek laid quietly on his chest and the way his hand was nestled in her hair - everything he had accused her of earlier seemed entirely too accurate. Well he thought wryly – no need to apologize in the morning.

Something inside of Ron died that moment. He had wanted to believe, as his mother did, that everything was the same and that everything would be the same but deep down he knew it would never be again.

Draco sat completely still, he watched Ron his eyes trained on him like a predator. He could see the anger building in Ron, evident in the blush that was spreading up his neck.

Ginny could feel Draco’s muscles tense as they waited for Ron’s reaction. For once in her life she thought it would be prudent if she waited before jumping in. She understood what was running through Ron’s mind at the moment. Everything he had accused her off appeared to be completely accurate. She was sitting in Draco’s lap. A small blush tinted her cheeks. She hadn’t thought how this would look to an outsider - especially one that didn’t know of her nightmares.

Ron didn’t want to open his mouth; it would bring everything into reality if he spoke. There would be no more pretending, no going back.

“Are you okay?”

The question was asked with no emotion, it was merely a compulsory. Ginny’s head dropped she had lost her brother. She knew it.

Her head hung low Ginny nodded briefly.

“I suggest you get him out of here before mum and dad come to check on you. I don’t think you want killing our mother on your soul either... do you?”

Ginny raised her head and stared at him in abject horror.

“Oh wait... maybe you don’t. Maybe that was your exact plan. It’s a perfect, play the injured daughter and then finish off the biddings of your lover and his dark lord.”

Ginny’s mouth dropped open.

“Stop.”

“Why should I Ginny... why should I? Look at you sitting there with... with... him” Ron had never felt so much anger running through his system – not when he had been fighting for his life, not when he had found out about Percy, it was all cumulated here and now as he watched his sister betray them all.

“Goodbye Ginny.” Ron had had enough. He didn’t know what to say to her.

“Ron... no you don’t understand.”

“Ginny I don’t think I want to understand to be quite honest. I understand that I was wrong about you. You have chosen your course I don’t agree, but it’s not my life. But Ginny, so help me god if you hurt anyone in this family...” Ron’s hands tightened in a fist. He needed to get out of here. His anger was too great he couldn’t even think.

He turned to leave.

“Wait Ron... please don’t leave like this... I know that this looks bad but it’s really not. Draco, he’s not what you think.” Ginny began to frantically respond. Tears were falling down her cheeks.

A roar of rage came from Ron’s mouth. “Don’t. Say. Anything to me. About. Him. Save your tears for somebody who cares.” Ron pointed at Draco who remained seated on the bed. Ginny had rose shakily to her feet and was advancing toward the door.

“He is a deatheater, he hates everything that good stands for, he and his father are responsible for Percy’s death and you don’t care.” Ron was yelling now.

“No. No he’s not any of those things. If you would just stop and let me explain.” Ginny was desperate, she couldn’t lose her brother. She ran forward to him to touch him, make him understand that she was his sister; to make him listen and understand that all he thought wasn’t true.

Ron pulled back dramatically from her touch. He couldn’t stand to see his own flesh and blood defend someone who had hurt everyone he knew and loved, “don’t. touch. me....whore.” The last part of his statement was uttered softly, but still heard.

Ginny gasped her hand flew to her mouth. She stumbled backwards, not quite able to believe he had said that.

Draco, who had sat silently throughout the whole conversation, stood up. He had let the comments about him slide, it was to be expected. But, he couldn’t let something so utterly hurtful be said to an innocent. Draco felt he deserved every comment that was thrown his way; he had worked for years to gain the hatred of Ron Weasley. But Ginny... she had done nothing, she did not deserve it. As little as Draco cared for people, when he did there was little he wouldn’t do to protect that person.

Draco stepped in front of Ginny. He turned and placed his hands on her shoulders. He led her shocked form to the bed and gently sat her down. She was silent, unable to speak at the moment.

Draco advanced on the tall red head. They were similar in stature, what Draco lacked in height he made up for in musculature. Ron glared at the blonde. Before he could open his mouth, Draco let loose with a punch to Ron’s left cheek.

Ron stumbled back in surprise. He grasped his injured cheek and stared back at Draco.

“Apologize!’ Draco advanced on him, with fists raised. Ron retaliated with a swing at Draco, glancing across his temple as Draco attempted to dodge the throw.

Draco advanced again, he had the advantage of a cooler head but rage still ran through his system. He threw another punch that caught Ron’s lip, splitting it. “I said apologize to her.” Ron shot back again catching Draco heavily in the nose.

Ginny had come out her shock and ran toward the two fighting boys.

”Stop!” She attempted to grab Draco’s arm to stop him from going after Ron again. Her attempts instead resulted in Ron landing another punch, this time an uppercut to Draco’s abdomen. It momentarily knocked the breath from Draco’s lungs.

Ginny glared at Ron who was breathing heavily. The two were sprawled in the hallway and as Ginny looked up she found four more pairs of eyes staring at the trio in shock. Ginny released Draco’s arm sorry that her actions had resulted in his pain.

Draco was bent over trying to regain his wind. Ginny soothed a hand over his back trying to help him.

She heard Ron’s yell of rage before she saw him coming. Apparently her attention toward Draco had only served to set Ron off again. Draco saw the attack coming and fell to the side; his hand flying up trying to pull Ginny along with him.

Everything seemed to happen instantaneously. Ron flew through the air and bowled into Ginny. The shrill voice of Molly Weasley could be heard making her way through Ginny’s brothers “what is going on, for Merlin’s sake it is the middle of the night”. Finally a loud pop was heard and their father’s voice announced the surprising presence of professor Dumbledore.

Ginny hit her dresser with a loud thunk, Ron landed on top of her depriving her of all air.

“Ginny!” Draco scrambled from his spot on the ground and headed toward the dresser.

He pulled Ron, who was nursing his head where it had connected with the edge of the dresser, off of Ginny. She was clutching her midsection and trying to find her footing. Ron groaned and rolled to the side.

Molly entered the doorway and gasped. She saw: her son, bleeding from his lip and a gash on his forehead; her daughter gasping for breath; and Draco Malfoy wrapping an arm around Ginny’s shoulders and leading her toward the bed.

“Well what have we here” Professor Dumbledore’s calming voice washed over the occupants of the room.

Draco’s head shot up. He didn’t know why he was surprised that Professor Dumbledore was standing before him, the man always knew when something was happening.

“Ron...Ginny.... what is going on here” Arthur walked up behind his wife who remained leaning against the doorjamb.

Ron glared indignantly at Draco and Ginny. “Nothing Mum, I was just taking care of some... trash.”

“Ronald Weasley!” Molly shouted. She turned toward her daughter who was recovering from the blow she had just received. “Ginny why is he here? What is going on?”

Albus interjected saving Ginny from having to answer. “Molly, why don’t we all go downstairs and I’ll explain. Let them clean up and they can join us.”

Molly and Arthur as well as the rest of the Weasley’s followed the professor down the stairs.

Ron immediately picked himself up off the ground and left the room, muttering about underage wizarding laws and having to find bandages now.

Draco turned to Ginny after Ron had left the room. “Are you okay?” This version of the question was heartfelt.

“I’m better, he just knocked the wind out of me.” She gently rubbed her sides, easing the sting away. “my ribs are still a bit sore, that’s all” she responded to Draco’s concerned look.

“Are you okay?” she asked gently touching his cheek which sported a bruise already. His nose had stopped bleeding but still ached fiercely.

“I’ll be fine, it’s not the first time I’ve fought and I’m sure it won’t be the last.” Draco was a bit angry with himself. He hated having to resort to common fighting. He felt it was beneath him to argue with his fists. Draco had always prided himself on his ability to resolve most arguments with his wit and intelligence, fighting was such a plebian act in his eyes. “I’m sorry that it had to result to that.”

“It’s okay. I understand. To be honest if felt kind of nice to have someone defend me – it hasn’t happened very often lately.”

Draco threw caution to the wind and pulled Ginny into a hug. Somehow the shock she momentarily thought she should be feeling at the thought of Draco Malfoy embracing her never came. Instead she breathed his scent in deeply, allowing it to calm her. He ignored all the warning bells that echoed through his mind and found to his surprise that it felt good to hold someone and to know that this simple act soothed them.

“How did you come from a family of such insufferable prats... Merlin!” Draco mused and Ginny chuckled in his arms. “And need I begin with this room – flowers on the curtains, really now!”

Ginny laughed for a few minutes but she quickly sobered.

“What’s going to happen to now?” She raised her large topaz eyes to his and locked gazes.

“I don’t know... Gin... I don’t know” Draco sighed. He really didn’t know and he hated it. He hated walking blindly, not knowing the next step to take and now he felt responsible for the situation Ginny found herself in. He did know that despite his uncertainty that he was strong enough to deal with the consequences of his actions.

He cleaned the blood off his nose, grabbed the hand of the small redhead and headed downstairs.

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Preview (although I make no guarantees that all will make it into one chapter): - Reality hits the Weasley's and Draco - Don't worry the nightmare has not been forgotten - A trip to Diagon Alley - Harry enters the fray - A confused Ginny

A little thank you to the Reviewers

Ezmerelda: I swear you read my mind - it's starting to freak me out : ) As you can see I did throw Dumbledore in and he will play a much greater role in the next chapter. Thank you for your consistent reviewing!

Kirixchi: Thanks for the comments on the letters - I was hoping they sounded like Draco and Ginny but it was my first attempt at trying to convey their actions through letter. Believe me figuring out the Percy connection was hard - especially after OotP, but I needed someone to die and I like the twins too much to kill one of them and I've read too many stories where Ginny and Bill/Charlie have a special bond. It was time to mix things up! Hope you liked this chapter!

sexytexy: Oh yes don't you worry these kids are going back to good ol' Hogwarts. In fact that is where everything will get really good (I already have part of that written)!!!! I should have them on the Hogwarts express in the next two or three chapters. I must plead the fifth on what will happen in the love lives of Ron, Harry, and Hermione - But I do guarantee that there will be no question of Draco and Ginny.

Freak27thatsme: Thanks for the review! I'm glad that the characters have come across like I intended. The story is slow - but I have read so many D/G's where in two chapters they are humping like rabbits and while those have their place... for the characters and plot that reside in my mind it just couldn't evolve like that. I am also just long-winded by nature : ) I guess sorry for any spelling problems - I've only noticed one or two - didn't think it was a problem (spellcheck, my best friend, catches most of it). I refuse to comment on grammer becasue I have read so many worse stories and I am convinced that grammer is the bane of my existance (I got into law school - it must not be that bad!). Also thinking about it just puts me in a bad mood for the rest of the day!

and thank you to all the rest who reviewed, the first timers, and those that didn't leave a name. I appreciate the reviews immensely!!!!!

13. Confrontations

Disclaimer:I make absolutely no claim on any of J.K. Rowlings works or ideas... this is only my escape from the horror that is contract law!

AN: Look at me less than a week between updates : )

Chapter 13 - Confrontations

Her house was silent, unnervingly silent. Hermione sat in her living room watching the telly but not really paying any attention. A knock at the door jarred her from her mindless perusal of Ab Fab reruns.

Hermione rose and made her way to the door to find Harry’s smiling face waiting there.

Harry walked in the door Hermione held open. He quickly pulled her into an embrace and kissed her on the forehead.

She looked tired he thought. He knew that something existed between them, preventing them from finding the happiness that they once thought they should have. He wanted to be happy with Hermione; they had been so content before this summer.

“Honey” he leaned back to look her in the eye. “I’ve missed you.”

Hermione smiled at his greeting. She was worn down and being held by Harry was exactly what she needed.

“I’ve missed you too” Hermione responded with a slight wobble to her voice. She pulled him back toward her and held on tightly.

Harry heard the waver in her voice and felt her cling. He rubbed a hand along her back, “what’s wrong ‘Mione?” He directed her toward the living room and the couch therein.

“It’s my mum.” Hermione responded. “Dad took her back to the hospital. She’s not getting any better.”

Harry let her cry a bit on his shoulder. He whispered condolences and reassurances that her mum would be better. “You know muggle medicine – it takes forever for them to heal anybody. She’ll be okay Hermione. Shhhh... Honey.” He hugged her tight. He hated to see her in so much pain.

Hermione sat in his arms for a while drawing strength from him. “Oh Harry... I’m sorry I am a blubbering mess. I’m making a mess of your shirt.” She dabbed at his dampened shirt front with the edge of her lightweight jumper.

“That’s what I’m here for. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t act as a mop every now and then?” Harry lifted Hermione’s chin up and kissed her softly. “Really don’t be sorry I’m glad I could be here for you.” Silent in his statement was his guilt at not having been there for her when she was absconded off the train.

Hermione’s tension melted a bit at his words. “Harry you are always here when you’re needed.” She knew he felt an incredible amount of guilt for the way people he loved had been used against him during the war. There wasn’t really anything he could have done differently, but he didn’t see it that way. It was all part of what made Hermione fall in love with Harry. He had an air of nobility about him and an intense sense of duty toward those he loved.

Hermione drew him down into another kiss. She wanted to lose herself in him to forget the outside world. For once she didn’t want to think of her ailing mother, of those that had died, of her confusion regarding her feelings. She ran her tongue along the seam of his lips, she wasn’t satisfied in just a prim kiss – she needed more.

Harry had become accustomed to her more bold advances since the war. Before this summer he, as a typical teenage boy, had to do most of the work. He had been the pursuer. He rather enjoyed this reversal of situations, what 17 year old wouldn’t; his girlfriend was constantly seeking more intimacy.

Harry eagerly deepened the kiss. Hermione fell back onto the couch pulling Harry down with her. Harry pulled back momentarily to stare into Hermione’s watery eyes. She had stopped crying but tears lingered in her large brown eyes.

“Hermione are you sure you are okay?”

She smiled at him “I’ll be okay as soon as you get back to this...” She ran her tongue along the shell of his ear. Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. He turned his attention to her exposed collarbone.

Hermione murmured her approval. She ran her hands through his perpetually messy hair. Harry, with a wide grin on his face, brought his lips back to hers.

He stood up to the protest of Hermione; quickly sweeping one arm underneath her knees and another behind her back. Hermione shrieked in delight as Harry picked her up.

“Why Mr. Potter... where are you taking me?” This is exactly what Hermione needed, a complete escape in the arms of the man she loved.

Harry smiled and continued his progress toward the stairs. “Where do you want to go?” he whispered in her ear, his warm breath pooled heat in her body.

“Wherever you want to take me...” Hermione sealed her lips with his and they stumbled into her bedroom, Harry catching the door with his heel on the way in.

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The kitchen table of the Burrow was crowded with people. Professor Dumbledore sat at the head of the table; he stroked his long beard as he watched the family around him stare uneasily at each other. Molly and Arthur sat to his right, Bill and Charlie to his left. The twins were milling about the kitchen; they looked uncomfortable with the serious note in the air.

Professor Dumbledore had hoped it wouldn’t turn out like this. Molly’s eager reception had looked promising, but he should have known better. Tempers ran high and emotions were strong in this family - especially with the two youngest Weasleys. He prided himself on ensuring for the welfare of those he cared about, and the Weasleys were top on that list. But preparations for the new school year and the political whirlwind that had resulted out of the final battle had consumed him the past few weeks. For the first time in his life Albus felt genuinely tired.

Ron was the first to come down the stairs. His lip had stopped bleeding, but was swollen significantly. His eyes were hooded as he slouched in a seat at the table.

Dumbledore watched Ron closely. He had a great deal of respect for the redheaded young man. He had fought valiantly, living up to everything that defined Gryffindor. Yet despite all that he had grown into; he was still the stubborn young man that he had known before. Part of what made Ron so strong, but was simultaneously his weakness, was his tendency to view the world in black and white not in the grays that so frequently made up the world.

Dumbledore could see the anger seething in Ron; he had not been privy to the role that Draco had played during the war. Ron’s opinion was based solely on his previous interactions with young Malfoy, none of which were favorable. In fact very few had known of Draco’s actions. For Draco’s safety and the success of his missions it was imperative that his actions were done in complete secrecy.

It was going to be hard to respect Draco’s wishes and make Ron understand (if that was even possible) that Draco was not the evil figure that Ron believed him.

The mother in Molly cut the tension at the table. “Ron? Honey, are you okay? Do you need a reducing spell for your lip?”

Ron, still stewing, looked over at his mother. “I’ll be fine.” He said with obvious pain.

“Don’t be obstinate” Molly scolded Ron as she murmured the spell that took away the swelling of his lip.

A pair of footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. Seven red heads turned toward the sound awaiting its creators.

Ginny paused on the landing, still out of view from her awaiting family. She took a deep breath stealing herself for the confrontation to occur. Draco watched her silently. He was accustomed to accusatory stares and hatred, in fact he thrived on it, but the girl next to him wasn’t as used to such hostility, especially from her family.

“I’m ready” Ginny whispered as much to herself as to Draco who stood next to her.

Ginny entered the room first; all eyes were trained on her movement.

“Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, take a seat.” Dumbledore offered his hand out to the seat at the opposite end of the table.

Ginny took a seat; Draco insinuated himself on the mantle behind her. He crossed his arms over his chest prepared for whatever would be thrown at him.

Molly quickly looked over her daughter, “are you alright honey?”

“Yes mum” Ginny responded.

Ron guiltily lowered his head at his mother’s question. Whatever anger he felt towards his sister at that moment, he never meant to hit her.

“I’ll go ahead and start.” Dumbledore began shortly after everybody had situated themselves.

“I’d like to apologize for not having this conversation earlier. It has been a trying time since the end of the battle and I am afraid I have been preoccupied.”

Arthur immediately replied, “There’s no reason for you to apologize, Albus.”

Dumbledore waved off Arthur’s comment. “I’d like to begin with what happened this evening. I understand you have an unexpected visitor.” Dumbledore swung his eyes over to Draco who continued to stand arrogantly by the fireplace.

Ron was the first to jump in, “I found those two together. Apparently Ginny isn’t the Ginny we thought she was.”

Molly shot back at her son, “Ronald, what are you saying about your sister. I don’t know why Mr. Malfoy is here, but I don’t appreciate you accusing your sister in such a manner.”

“It’s true Mum, Draco was here because I asked him, but it’s not what Ron thinks.” Ginny quickly followed.

‘Sure it’s not Ginny, that’s why he was holding you, and that’s why you wouldn’t tell me anything about what happened this summer.”

“Ron would you just let me explain!” Ginny snapped back. Gone was the Ginny who was devastated at her brothers rejection, now she was filled with an anger that was fueled by her hurt.

Dumbledore watched the proceedings; he would let it go as long as it was productive. He had a feeling that Ron would need some convincing, other than what his sister could provide.

Ron moved to counter her remark, but Bill raised his hand. “Ron, let her talk. I believe you owe it to your sister to listen to what she has to say.”

Ron glowered at his brother. He had thought his brothers would back him up.

Ginny smiled gratefully at Bill. “I asked Draco to come; I hadn’t expected him to show up... so soon. Otherwise I would have let you know about his arrival.” Ginny let the little white lie slip past. To be honest she hadn’t been sure that Draco was actually going to show and if he had, she would have met him privately - but her family didn’t need to know that now.

“Why Ginny? Why did you ask Draco Malfoy to come here? He’s a Deatheater?” Charlie asked.

“He’s not a death eater, he worked was a spy.”

Ron’s eyes shot up then looked suspiciously at the blonde who now smirked at him. He wouldn’t believe that load without proof. He wouldn’t put it past Malfoy to make up such a tale.

Ginny continued “He played an important role in the battle; you just didn’t know he couldn’t tell anyone...” Ginny was prepared to continue praising Draco’s efforts to vanquish Voldemort until Draco leant forward and placed a stilling hand on her shoulder. For whatever reason he obviously didn’t want her to continue talking about him.

“How do you know all this?” Ron asked slowly his suspicion evident in his tone.

“Draco took care of me after the battle... I thought you all knew this.” Ginny looked questioningly at Dumbledore. She had thought that they knew where she had been, and perhaps that had explained why her family had been slightly wary of her.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t tell your family where you were recuperating. I didn’t want any rash actions taken, but I’m afraid I miscalculated. It appears I cannot predict everything.”

“Harry knew, I’m shocked he didn’t tell you Ron.”

Harry knew! Ron too was surprised that his best friend had not told him where his sister had been. He had known every time that Ron had talked about how much he wanted his sister back and every time he had wondered where she was. He didn’t understand why everyone was keeping him in the dark.

“Ginny can you just tell us what happened. I’m sure that it would help everyone...” Molly looked pointedly at her youngest son, “understand.”

“I’ll tell you what I can.” Ginny began slowly. She hadn’t wanted it to happen like this. She supposed she never wanted it to happen, but it had to at some point.

“What do you mean?” Bill asked.

“I don’t remember everything that happened, yet” Bill and the rest of her family continued to look at her with concern. “I was unconscious for quite a while and apparently I suppressed much of my memory from the summer. The memories have started to come back, but I don’t know how much I will ever remember.” Ginny finished and expelled a deep breath.

“It’s okay.” Her father ran a soothing hand down her back. “Just tell us.”

Ginny knew she couldn’t tell them everything. She wouldn’t tell them what had come to her as she woke up mere hours ago. If she ever wanted a chance to reconcile her family they must never know what happened.

“I remember being on the train home, and then being held by two death eaters as Hermione was locked up in the home Voldemort was using as his headquarters. I don’t remember very much about the time I spent there, I heard that they thought I would help lure Harry to Tom...er Lord Voldemort.” After her slip of tongue, Ginny quickly kept talking hoping it wasn’t noticed. “The next thing I do remember is waking up in extreme pain in Malfoy Manor and having Draco care for me.”

Her family sat in silence taking in all she said so quickly.

“I didn’t have anything to do with Hermione being taken, at least consciously. I have a feeling that the Imperious curse was used on me but I can’t be sure. And...And I promise that I didn’t have anything to do with Percy’s death.”

“Oh Ginny! Is that what you thought we were thinking?” Molly rose from her seat and ran to embrace her daughter. “I never for a minute thought you had anything to do with Percy. You would never hurt your family.”

For the first time since she was back, she actually felt loved by a member of her family. She didn’t know how much they truly believed of her story but she genuinely felt that her mother believed that she wasn’t associated with Percy’s death.

Molly pulled back eventually and wiped a tear from her own cheek. “Keep going honey. Why did Draco end up here?”

“Like I said I invited him over. Ron and I talked... it didn’t end well and I felt like talking with Draco. We became...” She considered him a friend, but could she tell this to her family, “friends during my time at his home. I wanted to talk to him about my time here and about Percy.”

Her family stared at her, various expressions of shock and confusion etched in their features. Bill and Charlie were mainly confused; they had little knowledge of Draco being they were long out of school. They knew the Malfoy name for sure and all the horrors that it had caused. The twins’ mouths had identically fallen open; their eyes were round in disbelief. They had witnessed Draco in action at school, bullying kids, including Ron and Ginny and were of the general consensus that Draco was a smarmy git. Ron’s expression surpassed that of shock, his one eye twitched and his face was entirely red. Ginny feared some sort of hemorrhage. Who knew one small word could cause such varying reactions.

Had she turned around she would have noticed a similar expression on Draco’s face; he was surprised that she had gone as far to call him a friend. He hadn’t been certain on the type of relationship that they did share. He had finally come to the conclusion that from his point of view they were friends, but he didn’t think that Ginny would have ever actually considered him the same. He wasn’t sure what it was all supposed to mean, he had little experience in friendships and wasn’t altogether sure that he wanted them. He understood his responsibilities as a friend to entail helping when needed, but was that reciprocated? Did he want that reciprocated?

George was the first to reply. “Why on earth would you be friends with such a wanker as him?”

“Gerorge! Language!” Molly reprimanded out of habit, she too was in a bit of shock at the words uttered by her daughter.

“But Mum, he’s right. How could she be friends with Malfoy. His father killed Percy for Merlin’s sake!” Ron looked over at Ginny hopeful that his barb would hit home and it would force her to understand that Draco was just as evil as his father.

Ginny moved to deny Ron’s accusations. Even if Lucius had killed Percy it didn’t matter Draco was not his father and she wouldn’t let rumor and accusation control her, after all she had enough experience with that to last her a lifetime.

But Draco beat her to the punch with the first words he had uttered since the conversation began. “I am not my father Weasley and it’s best that you remember that.” His words were sharp and to the point. Draco didn’t feel it necessary to waste any more breath on the belligerent redhead.

Ginny turned her head toward Draco, she had almost forgotten he was there he was so quiet.

“Good story Malfoy, you might not be your father but I would say it’s only a matter of time and opportunity until you are.” Ron replied hotly.

Soon everyone was joining in the argument. Voices were raising shouting out questions and accusations. No one understood how Ginny could even conceive of talking to a Malfoy, let alone enough to actually become a friend. Dumbledore noted the rapid disintegration of the conversation and raised his hand to bring focus back.

Everyone quieted in time to hear Ginny shout at Ron who was now standing with his hands planted on the table, “I’m friends with him because he was there when I needed him; he picked me up when I was broken, not like you who always found more important people to save and more important people to care about.”

A shocked silence rang through the room. Ginny gasped, she hadn’t meant to say that to Ron, or in the presence of Draco. Her hand quickly covered her mouth and she turned and ran. Ran from the room, ran from her family and ran from her emotions.

Molly stood to follow, but Dumbledore stilled her. “Let him go after her, I would like to explain some things to you all.” Molly slowly set down, not completely comfortable with relinquishing her child’s welfare to the judgment of another, but at the same time knowing that she trusted Dumbledore with their lives.

Draco had been staring at the doorway which Ginny fled through. He was in shock, he didn’t know how important he was to Ginny, and to be honest it frightened him beyond comprehension. He was accustomed to people fearing him, or needing him to lead, but never had someone needed him or appreciated him for simply being himself.

Dumbledore’s words cut through the haze that had filled his mind. He inclined his head toward the professor and began to make his way after Ginny. He supposed they needed to talk; it was almost too much for him. He needed time to comprehend, but he also needed to know what she was thinking.

After Draco left the room, Dumbledore launched into an explanation of Draco’s role in the war and in Ginny’s recovery. He was careful to not divulge information that both had wanted kept private, but he made sure that the Weasley family knew that both were not minions of the Dark Lord. Despite his efforts he could still see that Ron was unconvinced. Molly and Arthur were deeply concerned that they had lost their daughter in the terrible misunderstanding that had resulted upon her return. They had every right to worry; Ginny had been deeply hurt by her family’s momentary rejection. Ginny was being asked to overcome emotional and physical scars that far outweighed any he had seen on a girl her age before. He understood that it would take a great deal of time and understanding, it was just that not everyone else involved understood this.

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Ginny sat on a grassy knoll past a large copse of trees that marked the edge of the Weasley land. She had run quickly to this point and was now feeling the repercussions of her actions. The stitch in her side was painful, as were her aching ribs. Ginny needed a moment to gather her breath as well as her thoughts.

She was tired and all her thoughts seemed to be running amuck, she couldn’t grasp onto a single thought. The words she had just announced to her family were first and foremost; they collided with her fears of Draco’s reaction to those words. At the edge of all her thoughts were her memories from her dream the night before. She knew it hadn’t been a dream; rather it was memories resurfacing. Now it was just a matter of distinguishing what was dream from what has reality.

She heard the slow crunch of grass under his feet as he approached.

He was here and she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to expect from him. She knew he cared; he had come when she asked for him. She thought he considered her a friend, he knew she did. But Draco was not one for expressing his feelings and Ginny at this point had lost all faith in her ability to read people.

“Is it true?” Of all his possible greetings this was not what she had been expecting - perhaps a witty remark or a snide comment about her family, but not this simple pained question.

Ginny raised her cinnamon eyes to meet his silver orbs. For the first time since she had met him there was naked emotion visible on his features. He looked ravaged. Ginny wanted to help him like he had helped her, whether he knew of his important role in her recovery or not. She knew it might mean leaving herself vulnerable, but for the one person who had believed her she knew she had to give that much.

Retaining his eye contact she slowly nodded her head. “Every word.”

Draco nodded back. He didn’t say a word; he merely took a seat next to her on the ground, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

When Ginny looked back at him, the emotion was gone and Draco’s face was back in place. But for a minute she had seen the man inside and she knew it. She would treasure that for the rest of her life.

He was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

”I’m sorry for dragging you into all this. Ron read the letter you sent and accused me of betraying the family. I needed someone who didn’t think twice about my motives, who understood what happened... you are the only one who does.” Ginny trailed off.

“I know... I think that’s why I came. I didn’t think you would write something like that if you didn’t mean it.” Draco ached to tell her about his mother, to help her understand why he felt such connection to her and at the same time why it was so hard for him to feel anything for her. He couldn’t tell her not when emotions were high and his position was so uncertain.

“I don’t want to go back in there; I don’t want to stay with them.” Ginny petulantly sighed.

“You need to. Don’t dismiss your family yet... I know it’s a bit shocking that I am telling you to go back to the Weasley’s, but I think Dumbledore might be righting things as we speak. Your mother obviously loves you.” Draco paused and sighed. “Plus school starts in a couple of days you won’t be here long.”

She supposed he was right, but she was angry with them....

”Now with Ron, feel free to try that bat bogey hex on him.” A smile crept onto Ginny’s mouth.

“So you still remember that one, I was rather proud of myself.”

“Remember... I don’t think I will ever forget. It took me nearly a week to get rid of them and to this day I have a deep aversion to bats.”

Ginny laughed at this, Fred and George would be so proud. She loved her family which is what made this all so hard. Ron’s rejection of her pained her to the quick especially with the loss of Percy.

“I miss him so much right now... Percy would have understood me; he wouldn’t have jumped to a conclusion first.”

Draco who had been purposefully keeping his distance, placed an arm around her shoulders. He let her grieve briefly. This is why he had come, to be her shoulder. He couldn’t imagine doing this for anyone else, hell he couldn’t have imagined doing this at all a month ago. He pushed those thoughts aside for the time being and let the morning sun rise in front of them.

Ginny sat quietly her head on his shoulder. Should she tell him about her dream from the night before? Should she tell him she saw what came out of the door at her? Should she tell him she knew where the pain she felt had come from? In all honesty she didn’t know if she could. Her memories were dark and sordid, she was afraid of what he would think. She needed him too much right now to risk his possible rejection.

They sat quietly on the hill until Professor Dumbledore came to collect them.

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Harry arrived at the Burrow the next morning with Hermione in tow. She was complaining vehemently about him not giving her enough time to get ready, while at the same time telling him to hurry up because she needed to get her shopping done so she could go visit her mother before they left the next day.

Harry never made any claims to understand the opposite sex – but for Merlin’s sake!

“Ron! We’re here!” Harry cheerfully announced blissfully unaware of what had occurred the previous morning.

“Oi Harry!” Bill greeted the younger man.

“Are you leaving Bill?” Harry asked noting the large satchel that Bill had brought down the stairs with him.

“Yes, I need to get back, work calls.”

“How are Fleur and Lucas doing?” Hermione asked the eldest Weasley.

“They portkeyed home yesterday...” an edge entered Bill’s voice, “I had some things to take care of first.”

Harry and Hermione exchanged a slightly confused glance, but Ron’s entrance into the room drew their attention.

“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed, “What happened to your face?” She immediately moved forward and touched his bruised cheek lightly.

Ron fidgeted under her ministrations, “Nothing Hermione I’m fine... just a bit of a tussle. Really I am fine.” He continued when she threw him a look of disbelief.

Hermione realized her hand was still resting on his cheek and she quickly backed off. She returned to Harry’s side and grabbed his hand intertwining their fingers.

“Ron what did happen?” Harry asked not willing to let his friend off the hook quite so easily.

“I said nothing... now could you drop it.” Ron testily replied.

Both Harry and Hermione were a bit shocked at Ron’s appearance and attitude. Something was under Ron’s skin and he wasn’t letting on what it was.

”Are you ready to go?” Ron continued on curtly.

“Do you have your list? Your money?” Hermione began to list off everything that Ron could possibly need while on their trip to Diagon Alley.

“Hermione we aren’t going to the continent, it’s just Diagon Alley. Let the poor boy be.” Harry chided his girlfriend.

Hermione stopped and pursed her lips, “I was just trying to make sure he doesn’t forget something like he does every year.”

“I’ve got everything... now can we go.”

“Ronald Weasley you cannot go yet... not without your sister.”

Molly Weasley’s yell from the kitchen was met with another sharp female reply, “I am not going to Diagon Alley with him mum! I’ll go by myself in a few minutes.”

< p>

“Good morning!” She greeted the two new additions. “I trust you are all ready for your last trip to Diagon alley for school supplies.”

“Yes Mrs. Weasley, we’ve got our lists and money ready.” Harry responded with a smile.

“If it’s not too much trouble can you bring Ginny along with you? Here is her school letter and some money to get the supplies.” She extended her hand to Harry, but the goods in her palm were intercepted by Ginny’s small hand.

“Mum, I’m not helpless. I can go to Diagon Alley on my own. I told you I refuse to go with him... isn’t it enough that I agreed to stay here until school started...” Ginny hated the way her mother always asked for people to bring Ginny along with them, like she was some horrid handbag that you only wore because your Aunt Gertrude gave it to you.

Harry’s eyebrows rose in surprise. What had happened here in the few short days that Harry had been gone? The tension in the air was palatable between the two siblings.

“You heard her mum, she doesn’t want to come along and that’s fine with me!”

Hermione gasped at Ron’s comment, there had always been some good natured teasing between the two, but this was open hostility.

“Ronald, she is going with you three and that is final!” Mrs. Weasley said with authority.

Harry could almost see the steam coming from Ron’s ears. Ginny looked just as angry. He worried that before long the Weasley home would simply combust.

“How about Ron and Hermione go on ahead, I’ll go shopping with Ginny and meet up with them at Floreans? After all I haven’t chatted with Gin in a while, it’ll be fun!” Harry posed the alternative hoping to neutralize the situation.

Hermione looked doubtful at her boyfriend. Her mind screamed don’t leave me alone with Ron!

“Are you sure Harry? This is our last year to go shopping together.” Hermione stated, a sentimental note in her voice.

“Leave some shopping for after we meet up at Floreans” Harry smiled at Hermione, he knew leaving Hogwarts was hard on her.

Ron had remained silent throughout Harry’s proposal. He supposed that it was a good idea. He didn’t want to spend time with his sister quite yet. He still had too many thoughts to sort through. Dumbledore’s words rumbled through his mind he didn’t know what to believe.

Hermione! She would be the perfect person to talk this out with. Hermione used to be the person he chatted about everything with; somehow their friendship had changed over the years with the stress of relationships and the war. She was still one of his best friends; he wanted more than anything to regain the friendship that they had once had.

“Grand idea mate! Come on Hermione let’s go!” Ron grabbed Hermione’s arm and pulled her toward the fireplace.

“Ron... wait” Hermione floundered a bit as she was pulled toward the green flame.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much.”

With Ron’s teasing comment the pair was gone.

“Thanks for the offer Harry, but like I said I’m fine. You’d better hurry if you want to catch up with Ron and Hermione.” Ginny turned to head into the kitchen.

“Ginny I wasn’t lying. Please come with me to Diagon Alley. I miss talking with you.”

Ginny stared blankly at him. What was he up to? I miss talking with you... Ginny almost snorted. What rubbish! They had forged a fledgling friendship after his fourth year, while they were staying with the Order. It had been far from deep; it was more brotherly than friendly. For the most part though Harry had been concerned with Hermione, Ron and the Order, not with fostering their friendship.

Harry could tell she didn’t believe all he had to say. “Ginny, I’m sorry about how everything played out. I would give anything to take it back, to keep you from being hurt. I wish that I could have protected you.”

Ginny stopped breathing. Everything she had ever felt for the green-eyed boy in front of her came flooding back. He wanted to protect her... she didn’t know how many nights she had lain in her small bed upstairs wishing that Harry would think of her in anyway. And here he was finally saying words to her that she had only dreamed she would hear from him.

She looked into his eyes, they exuded sincerity. Part of her didn’t want to believe him. She had begun to steal herself from the pain he unknowingly was able to inflict upon her. There had been too many times she had conjured up a ‘Harry’ that would actually see her only to be reminded that he didn’t exist and that she wasn’t what he wanted.

“Ginny remember, if you need someone to talk to please remember that I want to be there for you.”

The part of her that wanted to believe in him reared up, he was Harry Potter. He was the boy she had loved for years, he was the boy-who-lived, and he was the boy who had saved them all.

“Fine Harry.” She relented, “let me go tell Mum and we can go.” Her voice was flat, she was determined to get through this emotionally unscathed.

Harry smiled at Ginny before she turned to find her mother. As he watched her back head into the kitchen the smile dropped from his features. Harry knew something had happened, something that had set the Weasley’s on edge, something that had significantly changed the young girl for whom he now waited. Harry couldn’t let this rift continue, he had to start the healing somewhere, if not with himself than with the family he loved as his own.

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< p>

Next chapter: Diagon Alley here they come! What will Ginny and Harry talk about? What will Ron and Hermione talk about? Ginny meets up with an old friend Will we ever find out what she dreamt?

Thank you for all the reviews!

14. Old Friends

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this work, they all belong to J.K. Rowling.

AN: I wanted to make some amends in this chapter. I felt that Ron and Harry have gotten a bad wrap so far in this story. This was not my intention, but many people have gotten this impression as the story has progressed. Harry and Ron are growing up, and going though some very tough situations - so at first they will be “insufferable prats”, but give them time they will evolve (in theory – but they are male : ) I hope this chapter goes towards explaining the mindset of the characters and why you shouldn’t hate them! I have tried to fit my Ron and Harry into the character mold that J.K. Rowlings created, if you have any suggestions as to how improve that drop me a line or visit my live journal (where you may find some future bits of the story and some other fics that I am working on.) http://www.livejournal.com/users/scarlett_wfu/

Chapter 14: Old Friends

A young boy ran by Ron and Hermione clutching what appeared to be his first set of Hogwarts robes. His mother waited patiently for him to catch up before they entered Eeylops Owl Emporium. The tow-headed child proudly showed his smiling mother the length of black fabric that would soon become a staple article of clothing in his wardrobe.

Hermione smiled. She had been equally as excited her first trip to Diagon Alley, although a greater part of her excitement had been awe at the very existence of the charming cobbled alleyway in the heart of London.

Ron caught the grin on Hermione’s face as she watched the first year animatedly point to an owl that was perched just inside the glass window to the shop. He wondered how she was holding up, this being their last year at Hogwarts. He knew she would miss the school terribly.

“Merlin was I ever that small!” Ron remarked looking at the small boy.

Hermione’s eyes traveled up Ron’s long frame. He had shot up like a weed during their 5th and 6th years at school and now was finally filling his frame out, his lankiness disappearing.

“I believe you were, Mr. “Dirt-on-your-nose” Weasley. Although you’d never be able to tell now.”

“Ha Ha! Ms. “Bush-on-my-head” Granger!” Hermione harrumphed at Ron.

“My hair is no longer the frizzy bush it once was and I hardly see how it matters. One’s hair should not be a determinant factor in their performance as a valuable member of society.”

Ron laughed heartily at the typical Hermione response. He had to agree, her hair no longer held that shrubbery-like look it once had. While it was not the straight shining locks of Parvati, her brown hair lay in manageable waves now.

“Well where to first?” Ron asked Hermione after she tore him away from the window of Quality Quidditch Supply.

Hermione quickly pointed toward the apothecary. “Let’s get Slug and Jiggers out of the way first, I hate that place. The smell....” Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste.” I ran out of Jobberknoll feathers last term.”

Ron nodded in agreement, “the whole place just reminds me of Snape – ugh!”

“Oh Ron, as much as we personally dislike the man you really shouldn’t talk that way anymore. He did so much in the fight against Voldemort.”

Ron scoffed at Hermione’s defense of their potions master.

“Ron I’m serious, it’s time that you realize that he isn’t the evil death eater we thought him to be.”

“Hermione, He’s a Slytherin. How can you believe anything he says? I for one am having a hard time buying his story.”

“Ron, must you be a stubborn prat?”

“I’m just telling the truth Herm. I don’t understand why everyone is so willing to just forget the past and welcome traitors back into the fold. Now that the fighting is over, everyone is ready to forgive and forget immediately. Frankly I’m not. Too many people I loved died for me to simply let it go. Damn it I won’t let them get away with it!”

They had stopped outside the entrance to the Apothecary. Hermione’s mouth hung open a bit. She was a bit shocked at the vehemence of his statement. Of course Ron was known for his temper, but there seemed to be more behind this outburst.

“Ron, what’s really going on?” she slowly asked him.

“Nothing is wrong Hermione. Come on lets go buy whatever it is you need from his godforsaken store.”

Ron had gone red in his exertion of anger; Hermione reached up and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay Ron, you can tell me about anything. You remember how we used to talk about everything for hours... what happened to that?”

Ron stared at her. Merlin he was too tired for this he thought.

“I don’t know Hermione... I don’t know...” Ron sighed with exhaustion.

Ron slowly sunk onto a small bench that sat in front of the apothecary. “Why did it all have to end up like this Herm? I thought once the war was over everything would be righted... instead I think it is worse than before...”

Hermione looked deeply at the red head who sat beside her. He had just voiced her soul. She hadn’t thought anyone else felt quite like she did. She knew Harry was hurting, but he rarely expressed any doubt or frustration with her. She rationalized that he was probably doing so to help and protect her, but she needed to know if she was the only one who had come out of this war in the same or perhaps worse condition.

Hermione joined him on the bench. She placed an arm around his shoulders that were hunched toward his knees.

“I understand how you feel. I didn’t think anybody else felt that way either.” Ron tilted his head over toward the brunette seated next to him.

Hermione noticed how weary he looked for the first time. His eyes were bloodshot and a bit red rimmed. His red hair was frazzled; Hermione’s heart went out to the old-friend sitting beside her.

“Oh Ron! What happened – I could tell something was wrong this morning.”

Ron sighed. He really did need to talk to somebody, who better than Hermione one of his oldest friends.

“Ginny.” His one word response seemed to sum everything up for him.

Hermione sat silently waiting for him to expound.

“She’s with Malfoy.” Hermione gasped, she hadn’t been expecting that revelation.

“I suppose I should clarify” Ron paused after her gasp. “She apparently was recuperating at his home after the final battle and according to her they are friends. I don’t know what to believe about her and him...”

Hermione contemplated Ron’s remarks. She felt like she should know something about Ginny, after all they both had been captives this summer. But Hermione had yet to dwell on her memories from this summer; she had yet to flesh out her experiences. In fact she had done her best to forget all about it. In the brief moments she let herself think about her captivity she warred internally. One the one hand there were the terrifying memories of being held by Voldemort’s minions, but on the other hand was the knowledge that she hadn’t even been touched; in fact her presence seemed rather inconsequential.

She had been kept in a small cell, barred in, but beyond that she had experienced little hardship. She knew that Ginny had fared much worse though. During the three months that she had lived in Voldemort’s hideout she had only seen Ginny once and to be quite honest it was a vision she would prefer to forget.

She recalled two burly cloaked figures taking her to a small room which contained a large cauldron. They had brought her here several times to remove memories from her and place them in what appeared to be a large pensive. Hermione had yet to determine a way to prevent them from entering her mind, and her failure frustrated her beyond imagination. As she sat, one of the brutes held her down with his meaty arms, the door at the far end, which Hermione hadn’t even noticed before, creaked open.

Hermione recoiled instinctively as a figure emerged from the darkened room; it was the dark lord himself. His presence seemed to float through the room, but he was all too real as his billowing robes swept across Hermione’s shoes. A shiver ran through her body, yet she steeled her spine unwilling to appear weak or cowed.

Voldemort did not spare her a glance. He was followed closely by several Death Eaters who were quietly chatting to each other. She thought she heard the cultured tenor of Lucius Malfoy, but in the low lighting she couldn’t be certain.

The door swung shut solidly and Hermione’s captives continued their work. A wand was raised to her temple and incantations were muttered quietly. Hermione tried to hold her mind closed, but she could feel the power of the spell prying in, breaching her defenses.

Hermione’s attempts to ward off the magic were interrupted by the sound of the door once again opening. Her eyes darted over toward the doorway as two large figures filled the frame. They began forward but their gait was a bit stilted. It was then Hermione noticed that they supported a figure between the two of them.

The first thing Hermione noticed was ragged red hair, it hung down over its owners face obscuring their features.

More details became apparent as the triumvirate made their way forward. Hermione could tell that whoever it was, was terribly injured. Blood seeped from cuts on the girls legs. Hermione noticed scuffed Mary Janes and gray knee socks that had seen better days. That looks like a Hogwarts uniform she thought.

Her mind whirring... it couldn’t be... Hermione hadn’t been harmed and it baffled her to think that they would hurt her as well... especially since she had been the one to lure her off the train. Hell, Hermione had heard her personally address Voldemort as Tom and have a conversation with him.

“Ginny...” Hermione whispered quietly at first and then again a bit louder.

Her words earned her a slight rebuff from the man holding her shoulders. He pulled her back into the chair harshly, jarring her breath.

It had been enough though. Pain-filled cinnamon eyes lifted up to meet Hermione’s own chocolate eyes.

Hermione was shocked at what met her eyes. Gone was the smiling, rosy cheeked Ginny and in her place was a shell of that girl. A slight spark flitted through Ginny’s eyes as she recognized Hermione, but that dash of life was quickly suppressed by the opaqueness of hopelessness.

An audible gasp escaped Hermione’s lips, and her hand flew up to her chest. What had happened to the girl! She was barely recognizable. Bruises marred her face and her Hogwart’s uniform was soiled and torn. Hermione felt the crisp fabric of her shirt, while it wasn’t immaculate it was no where near as worn as Ginny’s.

Ginny stumbled at the sound of Hermione’s voice. The two cloaked men halted their progress across the room. A small cry of pain was wrested from Ginny as the two men wrenched her upright.

Hermione wanted to get up, but the hands on her shoulders reminded her of her place and she remained seated. Ginny’s haunted eyes had remained locked with hers as the two men had literally drug her limp form from the room.

It was at that moment that Hermione knew that Ginny hadn’t helped to dark lord, and even if she had she was paying for it more than they could have ever made her. A sudden wave of guilt flowed though Hermione’s system as her hand skimmed her own unmarred cheek.

Hermione shook her head physically removing herself from the memories that flooded through her mind. Ron’s head still rested in his hands and he was exhaling harshly with every breath.

“Hermione, what do I do? I don’t want to feel this way about my own sister, especially with Percy gone... but I can’t... I can’t ignore the facts - especially when she has offered no evidence to the contrary. Herm...” Ron raised liquid brown eyes up to Hermione, pleading for her help.

Hermione saw in the eyes of her best friend a desperation she had rarely seen.

“Oh Ron!” Hermione leaned towards him and pulled him into her arms. “Your sister will always be your sister.” Hermione didn’t know what to tell him, she wasn’t ready to talk about her experiences, nor was she completely certain as to what Ginny had experienced this summer. “You have to trust your instincts, but remember that unless you talk to her you will never know what happened. Losing your sister can be prevented where losing your brother could not... Don’t let that happen.”

Images of her ailing mum shot through Hermione’s mind as she hugged Ron tightly. She knew all to well how Ron felt, scared, unsure and alone.

“Thank you Hermione...” He wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the words and he was sure that he would only muck up their re-kindled friendship.

He held onto her like she was the only thing solid in his life. It dawned on him that she had always been an anchor in his world. Over the years he had struggled to find himself. He had always felt lost in the shadow of his family and then Harry. But Hermione had often found a way to remind him that he was his own person, not simply the friend of the Boy-who-lived or as just another Weasley. As he had lain in bed following his injury he understood that as their friendship had waned he had allowed his sense of self to drift away as well. It was time for him to again look inside and remember who he was and what mattered. That included his family and his sister.

The two sat silently in front of the Apothecary, remembering what they had shared in years past, and hoping that they could carry that into the future.

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< p>

Harry had left her a few minutes ago to find Hermione and buy her the ice cream he had promised her. Ginny was glad the raven haired boy had finally given up on attempting to solve the “mystery that was Ginny Weasley.” She was quite frankly exhausted and hurt too much to care about what Harry thought.

Harry had walked with her through Diagon Alley and eventually made them enjoy a glass of butterbeer at the Leaky Cauldron. To put it precisely Harry enjoyed a glass of butterbeer while he gave Ginny the third degree. She had sat silently through the majority of the conversation; staring at her glass and wishing for once that something stronger resided within.

She supposed that Harry was concerned for her, but she rather thought that a good deal of guilt laced his questions. He had said sorry, in more ways than she could fathom, for the fact that he hadn’t been the one to rescue her. He had shied away from any direct questions to her about what had happened. He seemed only interested in expunging his own personal anguish. Perhaps she had grown bitter in her pain and anger. She shouldn’t assume such things about Harry.

But then he would drop his self-serving demeanor and ask what he could do for her, and if there was anything he could do to help her and Ron. His eyes would search into her own and Ginny felt compelled to lower her eyes, afraid he would see too much. Why it mattered to her she could not decide. She wanted to harden her heart to him, but she just couldn’t. She damned herself for being so soft; it would only get her hurt. She knew this logically, but she supposed she wasn’t as logical or as calculating as she wanted to be.

A loud commotion from down the alley shook her loose from her thoughts.

“Ginny! Ginny Weasley? Is that you?”

Ginny immediately recognized the voice of Colin Creevey, a fellow Gryffindor. He sounded... pleased to see her.

Ginny whirled around and was caught up quickly in a bear hug. Colin had grown she thought. He was several inches taller than her now. Well she supposed she couldn’t tease him for being short any longer. His hair had lightened to a dark blonde this summer, but still waved slightly and his ever-present dimples lit up his face as he smiled. But he looked older, not the same as she had left on that bus three months ago.

She had been friends with Colin for years. Both had been slightly ostracized amongst their classmates; Colin, for his irritating eagerness and odd obsession with photography, especially that of Harry Potter, and Ginny for her obsession with Harry and her quiet nature after her first year. They had found solace in each other and had become fast friends.

Colin pulled back from the hug he held her in and smiled at her. Finally Ginny managed a small smile back at him. She had been received accusatory glances all afternoon, and had grown weary of the hostility that accompanied her every movement. She supposed that she should have expected such feelings from the general public (after all just look at her own family) but she had harbored a small hope that most simply didn’t know anything about her and her connection with Lord Voldemort. She didn’t realize how much she longed for a familiar, accepting face.

“Hello Colin.” She began quietly, hopeful that he wouldn’t treat her as others had, yet still cautious.

“Ginny! I missed you Red...” Ginny’s face broke out into her former smile. His familiarity was her undoing.

“I missed you too Col- I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you.”

“You looked a little lost, definitely in need of a friend.” His infectious grin again lit up his face. “How is the school shopping going?”

Ginny paused before responding. He was acting as if nothing had happened... for once she was glad that issues weren’t being pressed and that she could simply be Ginny, with no baggage attached.

“Almost done. I just need to pick up a few books. How’s yours going?”

“It looks like great minds think alike, all I have left is my texts as well.” Colin flung an arm around her shoulder and led her into the bookshop.

At first Ginny stiffened at the presence of his arm around her shoulders, but she quickly warmed to his presence. In fact she was greatful for his support as they entered Flourish and Blotts.

Colin looked down at the redhead who walked next to him. He was worried about her. Make no mistake, he knew what was being said about her, he just refused to believe it. Colin had been friends with Ginny for far too long to believe everything that was said about her without first talking with her.

Ginny had been friends with Colin when he was a complete wanker, obsessed with Harry Potter and taking photographs. Granted he still enjoyed photography, but he had moved on and now leaned more towards artistic works. Ginny had refuted the many rumors floating about Hogwarts that he was a poof, even at her own expense when rumors ran wild that they were an item. Ginny always made sure that he had a defender, and he had done the same for her.

He knew she was hurt, it was written all over her pale face. Her large cinnamon eyes were ringed with weariness. He wouldn’t press her; he had a feeling that she was being questioned enough. He would just try and be the best friend that he could be.

The two quickly gathered the books that they needed for the upcoming school year and headed to the checkout. Ginny scrounged up the last of her coins and paid, she sighed. She had hoped to get a new robe, seeing as how she had lost one this summer, but it appeared the money her mother had given her wasn’t intended to stretch that far.

Colin watched her relinquish the last bit of her money in frustration. He hated that she wasn’t able to have money to spend on herself, but he also knew that she would never complain voice her own frustration, she had too much pride to seek such pity.

Once they left the store Colin surprised her by quickly pulling her into the shop next door, into Madame Malkin’s.

Ginny sputtered... “Col...Colin... what are you doing?”

“I’m celebrating your birthday!”

< p>

“Oh hush! I know you didn’t get to celebrate your birthday this summer. Let me do this for you.”

Ginny’s head dropped. She hadn’t thought much of her missed birthday this summer. It simply hadn’t seemed to be of much importance in the grand scheme of things. She had been in no position to think of her birthday in July, nor had she been around anyone who would have thought of her ‘special day’. Tears began to form in her eyes. This was ridiculous; she was turning into a regular watering pot! Ginny quickly swiped at the tears and turned toward Colin. She quickly flung her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek into his chest.

“Thank you Colin...”

“What is a friend for?” He wrapped his arms around her back and reciprocated the embrace. “Ginny, you don’t have to tell me anything about what happened to you this summer until you are ready. I trust you, I always will.”

Ginny was never more glad that she had befriended the small muggle-born boy her second year.

“Now let’s get you a gorgeous robe!”

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Diagon Alley was growing dark; most stores had closed their doors for the evening. But murmurs and whispers still emanated from a small alleyway. The few remaining occupants of Diagon Alley scurried past the dark entrance over which hung a small wooden sign with the words ‘Knockturn Alley’.

Draco Malfoy had grown up venturing down such uninviting paths; so tonight he felt no qualms walking past Knockturn Alley as he carried his newly purchased books, owl treats and stationary back towards the Leaky cauldron.

He had decided to come late and finish his shopping; he didn’t feel it necessary to parade himself about Diagon Alley in the middle of the afternoon.

He paused by the entrance remembering the many times his father had brought him to Knockturn alley. It had always been a lesson in the power his family wrought and the capabilities of the dark side of magic.

As a young boy he had been frightened by the hags and misfits that inhabited the dark alley. They would grope at you as you passed. His father would pull him along silently, refusing to acknowledge the miscreants. Draco had developed a sense of family pride from these excursions. He knew his name wielded power over such people, people of which his classmates were desperately frightened.

< p>

Draco was spun around to face a cloaked figure. The man was shorter than Draco, but he was stockier and more heavily muscled. He quickly assessed the situation and determined that his chances of breaking the mans hold on him were limited and that he would have to rely on cunning to escape this situation.

“Malfoy.” A low gravelly voice ground out.

The man obviously knew who he was, and this was a planned confrontation.

Draco stared silently at the man who stood before him. Footsteps echoed around him. He slowly swiveled his head and took in the group of similarly cloaked figures that had moved to surrounded him. Draco refused to allow himself to feel fear. There really was no point. He would use the skills he had, both mentally and physically to extract himself from this situation and if not...

Draco returned his attention to the man holding his arm, the one with the familiar voice. A cruel smile lit the cloaked mans face.

“Young Malfoy... Don’t you know better than to wander near Knockturn Alley at night?” His voice taunted him.

Nott! That was the voice. He recognized his father’s friend as the man who now stood before him.

“Nott...” Draco acknowledged his presence ready to play the game. “I am no longer a boy I believe I can “wander” where I want.”

“That is where you are wrong Malfoy. You are still a boy, make no mistake about that.”

Draco remained silent.

Nott cracked a sharp laugh at Draco’s response, or lack thereof.

Nott's demeanor quickly changed as he remembered his purpose. “Your actions have not gone unnoticed. You committed a crime beyond the pale.”

“Are you threatening me?” Draco sneered at the man before him. He could not believe this. What did these men hope to gain? Obviously death eaters still remained active, but their lord was gone.“Surely you know better than that Malfoy. Your father did a better job raising you than that. We would not threaten you, to do so would provide little gain. We will however seek retribution for your treacherous actions. No traitor will go unpunished. You do remember the oath you took?” Nott’s face split into an evil grin.

Draco heard the advance of the men surrounding him.

As Draco was distracted by the sound of the approaching men, Nott landed a well placed blow to Draco’s midriff. His breath whooshed out and Draco doubled over.

“I don’t think we will kill you now, perhaps you will be of some gain to us later on. After all we do know where to find you should we need to... Consider this a warning.”

Nott stepped back and withdrew his wand. Before Draco could react he heard the word “Crucio” quietly uttered from Nott’s mouth.

Draco’s teeth clenched, biting deeply into his lip. He refused to cry out with the intense pain that was gripping his body. It wasn’t the first time such a curse had been cast upon his body and something told him it wouldn’t be the last.

Nott wanted to break him, but quickly saw that the curse would not accomplish his goal. An evil smile flitted across his features. How fitting he thought. If he chose to betray then with the filthy mudbloods, then he would feel the pain of a muggle.

He removed his wand and nodded his head toward the men who surrounded Draco. They quickly advanced on Draco who was still regaining his breath from the use of the curse.

Several punches landed on Draco, one near his kidney, the other an uppercut to his jaw before he had a chance to defend himself. Draco quickly assumed a fighting stance. As against the grain as it was Draco had insisted that he be trained to fight without a wand.

< p>

A third advanced, Draco blocked his throw and used his leverage to toss the man to the ground. At this point Nott was done toying with Draco, he inclined his head and four remaining men surrounded Draco. Two attacked from behind, pinning Draco’s arms. The other two smiled slowly, appearing to enjoy the prospect of beating the young man before them.

Draco knew what was going to happen, he didn’t relish the thought. But he wouldn’t struggle and give them the benefit of seeing him beg for mercy. He had been taught better.

A series of crushing blows rained over his face, and abdomen. Draco took each hit with stoic silence.

Nott smiled despite the fact that the beating was not breaking the boy. He would be a tough one, and for that Nott was pleased.

“Enough!” Nott stepped towards the blonde who somehow managed to still stand. Bruises blossomed across his face, and blood ran freely from his nose and lip.

“Remember young Malfoy, wherever you go, we will find you. Whoever you care for, we will hurt. You will be brought to heel.” Nott spat at Draco as he gathered his men and headed back into Knockturn Alley.

Draco turned his beaten body slowly back toward the Leaky Cauldron, refusing to falter. He held his head up and moved forward occasionally wiping away the blood that collected on his chin.

He sighed as the green flame licked at his heels and sent him spiraling toward Malfoy Manor. It was as he expected, he had been naïve to think otherwise.

________________________________________________________________________

Thank you for all the reviews – I appreciate it more than you can imagine.

I hope the next chapter will be more prompt than this one!!!

Remember to check out my livejournal for updates, snippets and other fics! http://www.livejournal.com/users/scarlett_wfu/

15. author

The Chapter 14 that is posted is no longer an author's note - so check it out!

In order to get the updates to show up I have to keep this author's note up as a chapter! I suppose I will survive : p

Let me know what you think about the newest installment - we are almost back to Hogwarts!

Thanks

Scarlett

16. The Return

Whoo-hee look at that turn around! You can all thank the fact that I had a paper for school to write – nothing says procrastination like working on a HP fic! Anyhoo – this chapter does have D/G for all those that were missing it last chapter! And as a note of clarification Nott and his group are a group of death eaters living underground – there will be more details about them later on.

Oh and I know – I am a tease!! You will see shortly hee hee

Chapter 15: the Return

The stars dotted the sky above the burrow. It was a peaceful night... the eye of the storm Ginny mused silently. It was late, she should be sleeping. Tomorrow would be a long day, a test of her strength.

She had sat through an unnervingly silent dinner in which Ron refused to make eye contact with her and her mother sent her pleading eyes throughout the meal. On one hand Ginny was happy that she would be leaving for Hogwarts in the morning. The tension at home was almost too strong. She needed to put some space between her and Ron and her mother; as well as her mother meant Ginny couldn’t stand her pitiful glances. But on the other hand she was scared to enter leave the sanctity that home provided. If her trip to Diagon Alley had been any indication, she didn’t think that she would have a warm welcome at school.

Furthermore she wasn’t sure what to expect from Draco. He was still a bit of an enigma, granted he had come to her home when she asked. But what would it be like in school? She knew it would be tough for him, surrounded by his former life. Slytherins who undoubtedly hated him now and saw him as a traitor.

The question that Ginny had been attempting to push to the back of her mind for the better part of the afternoon reared up again. Would their fledgling friendship fall apart from the pressures of school or from the darkness that filled her soul?

Ginny couldn’t deny it anymore she had remembered the horrors of the summer, she couldn’t hide from her past any longer... She scoffed at herself. At one point in the past few weeks all she had wanted was to remember and to know what had happened, what a silly naïve girl she really was.

She was an expert at putting on a face, a face that would make all the others happy and accepting of her. It was times like this, in the depths of the night, when the veneer faded and she was no longer able to pretend that she was good or worthy...

Ginny hugged her knees to her chest resting her chin on the knobby kneecaps. She knew that sitting here would not serve any purpose, but sleep had successfully eluded her for the evening.

She looked down at her wrist, a faint scarring marred the white skin. Ginny shuddered as memory consumer her mind. Her body folded in closer in reaction.

Her wrists were bound with an old rope. It looked frayed and weak, but she knew better. Her first two nights had been spent blooding her wrists attempting to free herself. She was too tired now to even humor the thought of escaping – it was pointless.

She had no real concept as to how long she had been attached to the dank wall. Days or weeks could have gone by and Ginny would not have known. She knew it had been some time since she had sat in the loo on the Hogwarts crying pitifully over what she thought was the very real pain of disappointment and lost love. She now knew now what real pain was. It had been days since she had felt the pull of Tom in her mind and had been unable to prevent it.

Her mind was blissfully blank now, but she was sure that would not last for long. Tom would come and go as he pleased, inserting thoughts in her subconscious. His soothing voice would wrap around her thoughts of fear and anger, comforting her. He would leave an odd sense of calm in her mind, one in which the physical pain and the mental torture weren’t even fleeting memories.

It was just like her first year. Tom would remind her that she didn’t have anyone, that she was alone. But he would always be there to talk to her. He would never tell her outright that all those she thought loved her didn’t give a damn – but that was always the silent message.

Unable to control his voice, she would constantly remind herself that what he said was not true, that he was trying to use her. But as the days went by she began to question her resolve. Tom represented a piece of her past and she wanted to keep him there, but Tom did not agree with that.

He would tell her that she was strong, that no one had withstood him like she had. That he respected her power. He would tell her that she was special and had the potential to be great. In the depths of the night her memory of his 17 year old self, dashing with his dark hair and eyes, would surface in her mind and he would tell her that she was beautiful. He knew her every weakness and it sickened her that something as simple as a compliment could weaken her so.

He tried to tempt her with power, everlasting dark power, that was the easiest for her to dismiss and Tom quickly recognized this. Ginny did not have the all consuming desire to retain power over others; she left that for the Slytherins of the world. She merely wanted control over her own self, and world. Perhaps Tom understood that she wasn’t the type to seek dominance over others as a means of self worth. Perhaps he understood that she would be much more powerful after she understood her own self worth. She would be a power to be reckoned with then.

She never quite clear about what he was tempting her to do, he never asked her to take the mark and join his ranks. The mystery of the whole situation only made it harder for her to comprehend. She soon learned though what Tom wanted her for...

Ginny snapped out of her memory, she didn’t want to relive anymore... it was too painful.

The reds and oranges of the rising sun began to color the English countryside. Ginny quietly slipped through the window into her room. Her trunk, fully packed, lay near to the door. Ginny grasped her wand and placed it in her pocket, it was Percy’s old wand. They had found it by his body and brought it home. Ginny had resolutely taken the old wand as her own rather than heading to Ollivander’s to purchase a new one. She preferred to have this part of Percy with her; she liked to think that he would have wanted it that way.

Ginny slowly made her way down the stairs the first up and sat quietly at the kitchen table to wait...

_______________________________________________________________________________

The train pulled away from the station as it had every year since Harry Potter began attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry sat in the same compartment as he had for years. Hermione sat to his right, her head resting on his shoulder and her hand intertwined with his. She had fallen asleep soon after as they had taken their seats. She had reminded him with authority that he must wake her an hour before they arrived so she could attend the meeting in the head students compartment.

Harry looked down at her peaceful face. He knew something was wrong, dark circles marred her cheeks. Her eyes had also been slightly red-rimmed as she arrived at his house the night before. They decided to leave from Harry’s to catch the train in the morning. It was to be one last night of freedom before they headed back to school. Hermione had been an enthusiastic partner as always, but something just didn’t seem right. He had left her smiling face after getting ice cream so she could head home to say goodbye to her parents and finish packing before she headed to Godric’s Hollow. But she had arrived at his home slightly off kilter. Of course he thought, the candle-lit dinner he had welcomed her with had removed the etchings of sadness from her eyes. Harry hadn’t had time to talk with her about what had placed that sorrow in her chocolate eyes, but he hadn’t forgotten.

Ron sat across from him quietly reading a Quidditch magazine. He flipped slowly through the pages not really seeming to read much. Ron looked a bit weary himself, but that was to be expected with all the happenings in the Weasley household over the past few weeks.

Harry wondered where Ginny was, he had seen her briefly as the Weasley’s arrived in a black ministry car. With only Ginny and Ron to bring, it appeared one car was all that was necessary. She hadn’t come into their compartment with Ron, typically she began to trip to Hogwarts in their compartment and then would move about to the compartments where the kids in her year sat – or at least that is what he assumed she did. Instead he had lost track of Ginny immediately after they had boarded the train and had not seen her since.

“Oy Ron, how do the Cannons look this year?”

“Huh? Oh right, the cannons look like they have a pretty good shot this season, even with Krum” a sneer crossed Ron’s face as he mentioned the Bulgarian seekers name, “as their seeker.”

Harry laughed. Ron had never let his hatred for the Bulgarian go, even after all these years. “You must admit though that he is a fantastic player, wanker or not.”

Ron grumbled his agreement. “He and the cannons will give Wood and Puddlemere a run for their money.”

“I don’t know Oliver has quite the strong team this year. Blair is an excellent seeker and Darcy and Firth are vicious beaters. They will be hard to stop.”

Ron nodded in acknowledgment to the legendary United beaters, “but they don’t have Wallace do they... do they now!”

Harry laughed, “point taken mate, point taken. Wallace is the best chaser in the league. He is unstoppable.”

Harry and Ron continued to discuss Quidditch for the better part of an hour, while Hermione slept blissfully unaware.

Harry smiled to himself it was nice to have this with Ron. It was nice to have this escape and this ability to return to the boy that Harry had been; to find purchase in his childhood love.

A knock at the door interrupted the pair. The small compartment door swung open to reveal Parvati. Her long dark hair hung down, not intricately coifed as she was famous for doing. Parvati had not been the same since Lavender was killed; it was as if part of her had gone with Lavender, even her relationship with her sister had seemed to wane.

“Parvati! Have a seat” Harry welcomed in the dark-haired girl. Hermione stirred at the announcement of a new arrival.

Hermione sat up and blearily rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Hello Parvati” she greeted her as well.

Ron quietly watched Parvati make her way into the compartment, a bit of a lost look in her eyes. She reminded him of Lavender, he couldn’t help it but the pair was nearly inseperable. Ron had long since come to terms with the notion that he had not loved Lavender, he had been infatuated as teenagers typically are. Both Lavender and Parvati had taken on a more serious edge as the tension with Voldemort had increased. Ron had been able to find an attraction to Lavender that his 4th year self never could have imagined.

Parvati took a seat next to Ron; she really didn’t know why she was here. She didn’t feel right anywhere. She had sat for a while with her sister and some other Ravenclaws, then she had joined Dean, Seamus and Neville but it just wasn’t the same without Lavender. She had spied the compartment that Ron, Harry and Hermione typically sat in and decided to join them. Perhaps if she just floated about like she had been for the past three months nothing would seem real and everything would be alright.

“Hello Ron” Parvati looked over at the redhead. A slight glisten entered her eyes, the last time she had seen her best friend was on the train ride home last summer sitting next to Ron. Parvati remembered that Harry and Ron had been playing a raucous game of exploding snap. Lavender was glued to Ron’s side; he held her hand as they played. Parvati had been chatting with Hannah Abbott who had been sitting next to Hermione. But that was all long gone, that was before the Death Eaters had attacked the train and destroyed their blissful sense of security.

“ ‘ello Parvati.” Ron replied quietly. He watched as she clutched her hands tightly in her lap. She used to be so cool and collected, always sure of herself. While he had been dating Lavender he had become friends with Parvati to a certain extent. She was a nice girl, perhaps a little too wrapped up in material things, but Ron reasoned there were much worse things one could care about. He noticed the tears causing her dark eyes to shine abnormally bright.

He had seen Hermione and his sister well up like this many times over the years, so he did what came naturally.

He scooted closer to her on the red bench and put his arm around her shoulder, leaning her against his side. Parvati quickly muffled a sob. Ron brought his other arm around and embraced her.

”We all miss her...” It was all he said, but it was enough for Parvati.

Harry and Hermione sat in silence, quietly reminiscing about those that they had lost and how lucky they had been to make it out as they had.

Parvati continued to cry into Ron’s shirtfront while he ran a soothing hand down her back. After a while she hiccupped signaling that she was done crying.

“I’m sorry to cry all over you.” Parvati dabbed at a few spots on Ron’s shirt.

“Don’t be.” He smiled down at her.

“I thought I could keep it together, after all it has been three months” she raised a watery smile to the group. “but sitting here with the three of you just reminded me too much of the train ride home and Lavender should be here.... I’m sorry.”

Ron lowered his head. He knew coming back to school would be hard, classmates were gone and it would be hard to adjust. He supposed he just hadn’t been ready for the reality of it all.

“I remember we were sitting just like this, playing exploding snap, before the train was attacked...” Ron trailed off looking out the window.

“Hannah was here wasn’t she?” Hermione interjected.

Parvati looked up at Hermione “Yes, I just saw her in a compartment with Susan and Justin down the way”

Harry wrapped his arm around Hermione; it was hard coming back when some weren’t able. It was difficult being the ones to survive.

Typical to their English reserve they didn’t express those feelings; rather they continued to reminisce about past trips on the Hogwarts express. But the pain of missing those that weren’t there anymore began to lessen as they remembered and became accustomed to their absence.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Draco sat silently in the last compartment of the train. He had claimed that compartment his first year and he would sit there regardless of whether the other Slytherins approved or not.

His first encounter had been with Pansy and Millicent. The pair of girls had entered shortly before the train pulled away from the station. Pansy had thrown open the door as if she owned the train. Millicent followed behind her but without the rancor that Pansy exuded.

Draco had immediately noticed the difference in Millicent, she hung her head and meekly went were Pansy went. He wondered what had happened to create this change of events. Millicent and Pansy had hardly been friends before, nor had Millicent been particularly meek. He mused though that the ranks of Slytherin had likely been largely thinned and the dynamics thrown asunder after this summer.

“Draco...” Pansy’s voice drawled out.

He didn’t quite understand where she got off addressing him like that. The Parkinson’s had lost everything. But he supposed that he respected her ability to still hold her chin up high in spite of it all.

“Pansy... Millicent” Millicent raised her head at Draco’s voice and quickly dropped her chin again.

“Well Draco, How are you doing?” Her question seemed laced with knowledge. She seemed to be looking for him to falter and reveal something in his answer.

“Splendid and yourself?” Draco responded not having moved from his position leaning against the window.

“Why Draco, aren’t you going to ask me to sit? Where have your manners gone?” Pansy’s eyes narrowed at the blonde.

Ah the games begin he thought.

“Forgive me I don’t know what I was thinking... but I am sure you won’t be staying long will you?” Draco’s reply was polite but laced with malice.

Pansy pursed her lips. “Too true Draco, Blaise is having a little gathering in his compartment, we wouldn’t want to miss that would we? Millicent?”

Millicent looked up at Pansy, “No, Blaise told us to hurry on to his compartment”

“Will we see you at Blaise’s compartment?” Pansy smirked at Draco, knowing the answer to her question.

“I’m afraid that I won’t be able to make it” Draco crossed his leg at the ankle and waited for Pansy to leave. “I shall see you later Pansy... Millicent?” Draco looked directly at the larger girl. Her blue eyes met his gray questioning ones. Millicent understood that he wanted to speak with her later.

“Millicent!” Pansy grabbed her arm and turned toward the door, “Goodbye... Draco!”

Pansy swiveled on her heeled foot and swept from the doorway, her blonde hair swinging behind her.

Draco sighed, it would be a long year, full of situations just as that.

______________________________________________________________________________

Ginny sat on her trunk as the steam from the engine billowed around her.

“Ginny!” Colin came running toward her.

“You ready?” Ginny stood up and grabbed the handle to her trunk. She pulled it forward toward the train, scraping it along the pavement.

”Let me, I’ve already got my things on the train.” Colin removed the hefty trunk from her hands.

“Thanks Colin!” The pair made their way onto the Hogwarts express amidst the bustle of the many students.

Colin noticed the looks that many of the younger students were giving Ginny. He put one arm around her shoulder as they ascended the stairs, attempting to show the students that she was okay and that he would protect her.

Ginny understood what Colin was doing; she appreciated it but didn’t think that it would matter much in the long run. They would think what they would regardless. After all look at her and her brother.

After they were settled in their compartment, Colin produced a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavored Beans for them to share.

Ginny savored a caramel flavored bean. It had been ages since she had tasted Bertie Botts Beans.

”Merlin Colin, these taste good – it’s been ages since I’ve had one! I’ve been afraid to try anything at home since the twins have been around. You never know what they have left sitting around.”

Colin laughed, he had been the recipient of many of the twins “testers” over the years and understood her reluctance.

“How are the twins, and the rest of your brothers?”

“They’re doing well... as well as expected. I suppose...” Ginny trailed off at the end, not quite sure how to address all the problems that had arisen in her family.

“I heard about Percy. I am genuinely sorry Ginny. I know how much you loved him.”

Ginny inclined her head. She wasn’t yet comfortable with accepting condolences for loss of her brother.

Colin looked on with concern, when he had heard about Percy’s death he knew it be especially hard on Ginny. He had only just reconciled with the family, mainly at Ginny’s behest.

“I miss him, I probably always will” Ginny gently fingered the wand in her pocket as she spoke of Percy.

“How is Ron, I didn’t see him with you when you got here? In fact I didn’t even see him in Diagon alley?” a slight frown marred Colin’s face.

“He went to Diagon alley with Hermione and Harry...” Ginny felt a lump form in her throat. “Ron... Ron hasn’t spoken with me in a while. He rather thinks that I helped Voldemort.” Ginny did not wait for Colin’s gasp to leave his throat before she stood up, “If you will excuse me I need to run to the loo.”

Breathing hard Ginny escaped from the confining compartment. She headed toward the back of the train, looking to get away from everything.Movement from the inside of the last compartment caught her eye. It looked to be blonde hair and dark robes.

Ginny knocked on the door softly. She heard a sigh from the other side of the door as it was pulled open. Draco stood before her his school robes half on, the head boy pin glinting in the light.

“Draco!” There was a bit of surprise to her voice and she didn’t really know why. She had wanted to see him, she enjoyed Colin’s company but he didn’t understand her as Draco did. Perhaps it was the head boy pin on his chest that shocked her, but she supposed that it shouldn’t. He was incredibly intelligent.

He finished pulling the robe on, his motions were stiff, a side effect of the beating from the night before.

Ginny immediately noticed the hitch in his normally graceful movements.

“You’re hurt” It wasn’t truly a question.

Draco did not respond instead he merely moved away from the door letting her into the compartment.

“What happened?” She continued, not bothered by the fact that he had yet to respond.

Draco silently watched her approach. Her eyes were haunted. She was hiding something. Ginny placed a hand on his cheek her fingers brushed across the deep bruising that a glamour charm was concealing. Her simple touch awoke feelings inside of him that he kept quelled at all times.

“Who hurt you?” her whispered question caused Draco to jerk his head up. The concern in her voice scared him. He wasn’t accustomed to anyone worrying for him, caring about his pains, or protecting him.

“No one...” His voice held finality. His injuries were not open to discussion.

Ginny continued to survey his wounds. Somehow she was able to see through the charms. She looked closely enough to see the brusing, the scabs and the pain.

“If you won’t tell me about it will you at least let me heal you?” Draco’s eyes relayed none of the shock her words caused in his mind. Ginny... heal him? He knew she could... and it terrified him.

“Fine.” Draco bit out a reply.

A frown marred Ginny’s features. Why was he so short? What had happened? Where had her friend gone? Perhaps this is what their relationship must be now that they were back in school.

Draco took a seat on the cushion, Ginny followed suit. She took her wand out of her pocket. Draco gave her a questioning glance.

“It was Percy’s”

Draco set aside his fear, and desire to distance himself from the red head, and placed his hand over hers squeezing gently.

Ginny bowed her head, acknowledging his comforting. After a brief moment she pulled her head up, “Now let me fix these bruises up, you really ought to work on your glamour charms...” she admonished.

“So sorry... I’ve never had to use one before, attractiveness comes naturally to me.” He smirked back at her.

“Conceited git! Well maybe you should work on your healing charms as well... then I wouldn’t have to do this, you are luck I was interested in becoming a medi-witch.”

Ginny gasped slightly when she removed the glamour charm so she could see the full extent of his injuries.

“Merlin Draco!” Both his eyes were blackened, and his lip split. There was a gash running along one of his cheeks that still looked angry and red.

Ginny felt his pain in her stomach, he had been beaten severely. Who had done this to him? Her every instinct shouted out to take away his pain and kill whoever did this to him.

Draco sat quietly he didn’t know what to say to her if she asked again what happened. She was stubborn and wouldn’t take his silence for an answer. He didn’t want to tell her why he was injured. It was his problem and he would deal with it. He understood now that dealing with it would require distancing himself from her. He cared for her too much, that was a liability not only to himself, but to her – he realized, causing his stomach to roll over.

His mind swam with thoughts; he needed time to figure out what was going on.

Ginny watched him quietly as she went about casting small spells that would take away the bruising and the pain. She couldn’t completely remove the wound on his cheek, but it probably wouldn’t scar, if that was any consolation. She wanted to ask him more, but she could tell he wouldn’t answer her. He respected her secrets and she would do the same, but she did expect an answer at some point – when he was ready.

With a last touch to the cut on his lip Ginny sat back. “All done, you are back to being your smarmy conceited self.” She smiled at him.

Draco was still quiet. He couldn’t bring himself to enter their typical banter. She pulled at him, but he couldn’t give, not yet, not now...

“Was your voice damaged as well?” Ginny tried to keep the air light as she sensed tension.

“Thank you, I didn’t have time to look up the healing charms before I left for the station this morning” his tone was polite if a bit cold.

Ginny raised a hand and fingered his golden badge. “Head boy huh? Congratulations.”

Draco looked down at her small hand that rested near his chest. “Oh the joy, Granger and I – a match made in heaven!” Draco bit out sarcastically.

Ginny let out a small giggle; they would be quite the pair. “Well think of it this way, you can take points away from Ron and Harry to your hearts content now.”

One side of Draco’s mouth pulled up in a smile, “I dare say it will be rather hard for your house to win the cup this year.” Despite his unwillingness he once again found himself pulled into their typical pattern of conversation.

Ginny smacked his arm lightly, “Damn you – Hermione will never bend the rules to take points away from your house unless necessary! I hate it when you are right.”

“You’d better get used to that little one, I’m always right.” Draco lay a full-on smirk on her.

< p>

“Did you get all your supplies yesterday? I didn’t see you in Diagon Alley while I was there.” Ginny questioned Draco.

Damn! She was too smart for her own good, she kept hitting too close to home.

“Yes, I went a bit late. I waited for the crowds to thin.”

“It was quite busy when I was there... So many people” Ginny trailed off.

“They stared didn’t they?” He questioned. He didn’t want to care, but he did.

Ginny nodded her head slowly.

“Ahhh... welcome to the world of a Malfoy.” He lazily responded.

“How do you handle it?” She raised baleful eyes to his and Draco could not resist helping her.

“You have to know that you are better than them. You have to understand that they are weak and meekly follow what they are told, while you hold yourself to a higher standard and that one day that standard will be all that matters.” Draco placed his hands on her upper arms to hold her facing him.

“You know that you are, don’t you?” he continued.

Ginny refused to look up at him. That was the crux of her dilemma, she knew that she wasn’t better than anyone and she never would be.

“Gin...” he breathed her name out quietly, pulling her into his arms. “You are better than you know...” he whispered.

A knock at the door, interrupted his comforting. Ginny snapped out of his arms and scrambled to hide. She stood where the door would swing open, concealing her. Draco thanked her quietly as he walked towards the door.

“Hello... Granger.” Draco sneered, holding the door open slightly.

“It’s time for our meeting.” Hermione quickly responded looking like talking to Draco was the last thing on earth she wanted to be doing.

“I’ll be there shortly.”

“Thank you.” With that she turned and sped down the hall, her bushy hair flying out behind her.

Draco closed the door and turned towards Ginny, who had pressed herself into the corner of the compartment.

Granger’s interruption had reminded him of the danger he had just created by falling victim to his emotions once again. He cursed himself for being a weak bastard.

“You are more than welcome to stay here; I have a meeting to attend.”

Ginny nodded and moved to head out after he left; Colin was still in their compartment. She wasn’t quite sure why she had hid, and why it had been so automatic. She was sure that Hermione knew that Draco and Ginny were friends; she doubted that Ron could have kept that to himself. Perhaps some part of her subconscious felt that they would believe her if she didn’t appear to be with Malfoy. Maybe they would remember that she wasn’t evil... She cursed herself for being weak as she headed back to the compartment she was sharing with Colin.

***********************************************************************************

Thanks for all the reviews!

Annibug, Sexytexy, Ezmerelda, Arafel - y’all are the best!

Blackrose62 – I hope I answered your question above. I envisioned that there were pockets of death eaters that were in hiding – much like after Voldemort was “killed” by Harry in the books. This group meets underground and came out only for the express purpose of finding Draco.

Again I remind y’all to check out my livejournal scarlett_wfu – I should be putting up some of the cut scenes (i.e. the bit racier scenes – right now it is only H/Hr) in the next couple of days!

17. The Other Side of the Coin

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a lingering hangover from Halloween

Chapter 16: The Other Side of the Coin

The loud whistle of the train jarred Colin out of his sleep. He had fallen asleep after Ginny had left his compartment. He knew that she had been upset and needed some time to compose herself, his running after her would not help the situation.

He cracked blue eyes open and he spotted a figure sitting opposite him.

“Gin?”

A red head lifted up. “Hey Colin, sorry I ran off like that, I just needed to get some air.”Ginny apologized half-heartedly.

“You don’t need to apologize. Ginny, you do what ever you need to do, just remember that I will be there for you, I always will be.” Colin held her eyes.

“Thank you, Colin. That means a lot to me.” Ginny set aside the book of spells she had been perusing. “It looks like we’re there.”

Colin stood up and shrugged his school robes on. Ginny was doing the same. “Those are some nice robes.” Colin remarked laughingly.

“Why yes they are! Thank you Colin I appreciate them so much.”

“Well you know I need my ‘pseudo-girlfriend’ to look her best.”

“You prat!” Ginny thwaped Colin’s arm as they pulled their trunks out and made ready to leave the train. “your ‘pseudo-girlfriend’!” she huffed in mock indignation.

Ginny was laughing as she exited the compartment, but was quickly silenced - leaving their compartment at the same time was Ron, Harry and Parvati.

Ginny stopped in the door way, momentarily thrown off. Colin who was more concerned with dragging his trunk along ran into Ginny’s back.

“What the bloody...” Colin sputtered as he picked strands of red hair from his mouth. He looked up and saw where Ginny’s eyes were directed. Ron stood in the opening to the next compartment. Neither he nor Ginny were moving. Both seemed paralyzed. Colin was shocked by the tension that now filled the small hallway.

Colin could see Harry behind Ron, his eyes were hooded and his head bowed. Colin could feel the rigidity in Ginny’s back as she stared at her brother, she fairly ripped with tension. Parvati remained silent sending confused eyes between Ron and Ginny.

Ron’s eyes were unreadable at first, but as the silence continued they seemed to intensify with anger.

The standoff was interrupted by a cold voice.

“Weasley... I understand that it is difficult to remember, but it is one foot then the next.”

Ron whipped his head around at the sound of Draco’s voice.

”Malfoy” he sneered his name with more contempt than Colin had ever heard him use.

Colin watched the red creep up Ron’s neck and over his ears. He could fairly see Ron’s blood boil. Colin was a bit shocked. He had been witness to many of the infamous Weasely-Malfoy confrontations over the years, but this was more intense than anything he had ever witnessed.

Ron sputtered a bit as Draco approached. Hermione followed behind him. Light glinted off his head boy pin. Colin was a bit shocked at this revelation; he had assumed Harry would be Head boy.

“You... Head... No...” Ron sputtered as he too stared at the pin on Malfoy’s chest.

“Hmm... Weasley have we also forgotten how to speak? What a shame” Draco drawled as he lifted his robe away from Ron and walked by.

“Bugger off Malfoy!” Ron finally managed to respond in spite of his anger.

Colin watched Ron seethe. Hermione came to stand next to Harry who encircled her waist with his arm. Finally Colin returned his attention to Ginny. He noticed that her muscles had relaxed a bit. Looking at her profile he noticed that her vision was no longer directed at her brother, but instead she seemed to be looking at Malfoy. There wasn’t fear or anger, as Colin thought there might be. He couldn’t determine what expression was in her brown eyes, yet he could tell it was far from contempt.

Even more shocking, as Colin looked toward the other occupant of the small hallway, was the expression in Draco Malfoy’s gray eyes. His eyes were completely unreadable, but as they looked toward Ginny, Colin thought he could make out a spark in his clouded eyes. A multitude of questions flooded Colin’s mind as Draco made his way past them to his own compartment.

Colin was a bit shocked, there was no, “move it mudblood” or “I know I am attractive, but must I remind you I don’t swing that way” from Malfoy as he walked past. Things had changed remarkably this summer; Colin would figure it out... eventually.

“Ron?” Hermione placed a hand on Ron’s shoulder.

“I’m fine, I just hate that bloody prat!” With that remark he turned swiftly toward Ginny throwing her a deadly glare.

Colin was shocked. He now understood Ginny’s tearful comments as she ran out earlier.

“Come on Ron, let’s go” Harry pulled at his friends upper arm, directing him out of the train.

Colin looked down at Ginny. “What just happened there?”

“I told you Ron and I are having some problems.” She laughed bitterly.

Colin widened his eyes at the cynicism and bitterness that Ginny exuded. “Gin!”

“Don’t worry Colin; I’m used to it now. He’s not the only one. Haven’t you noticed all the stares we have been getting? As much as I would like it, it’s not because people think we are dating.”

Colin could tell she was lying; she wasn’t used to the hatred Ron seemed to harboring toward her. It hurt her deeply, but Ginny was good at putting up a façade this he knew. Colin wanted to ask about the encounter with Malfoy that intrigued him more than the confrontation with Ron. He knew that he would not receive a satisfactory answer now; he would have to hold that question for later.

“Come on lets get into the school.” Ginny sighed as she gripped her trunk and forged ahead.

****************************************************************************

Blaise Zabini sighed. He ran long tan fingers through his black hair. His uniquely violet eyes were sharp with intellect as he surveyed the occupants of his compartment. It was nearly the entire Sylterin house, years 4 and above.

It was sad really, the glory that their house was renowned for was now lost on the battlefield as with most of their classmates. Those that were left were a mismatched group. Some had chosen to fight against the Dark Lord, others had remained neutral, others were questionable. But all had been taken down a notch.

It was a bit odd, while other houses grieved the loss of classmates, Syltherins didn’t or rather couldn’t. They took strength from their cold exterior and ability to turn an indifferent shoulder to death and destruction.

For Blaise it was a chance to enhance his own standings, an opportunity he gladly took up. Draco was out. No Slytherin could respect the Malfoy heir. They knew he had turned on his own father and his own legacy. They didn’t know why he chose that path – it wasn’t necessary. All they saw was the potential power vacuum; Blaise was one of the first to act upon it.

Blaise himself had remained an observer to the battle; his family was aligned with the dark lord, but on a more economic basis rather than on the political or physical basis. The Zabini’s were deeply steeped in continental politics, they invested heavily in Britain. His father was the family’s liaison with British investors. They dealt primarily with potions supplies and wine, an odd combination that proved quite lucrative. As much as high crust wizarding society detested muggle Britain they were enamored with the wines of the continent and it was up to the Zabini’s to provide. Blaise had been taught since birth that profit was the motive and politics mattered only when it could be manipulated to your favor. He never took an unwavering stance; after all you never knew when a little flexibility could work in your favor.

Speaking of flexibility Blaise looked down at the lithe blonde who was curled at his side. What was her name again; she was a fifth year that much he knew. Mary, no... Lauren, no – she was the girl from the pub last week, Gwen that was it! She was a flexible one Blaise thought, thoroughly appreciating her attentions in the water closet halfway through the trip. But her clinging concerned him a bit – that wouldn’t do now would it.

Blaise looked up and caught Millicent’s blue eyes. He smirked at her eliciting a small smile from the larger girl. He knew she was hurting; most of her family had been wiped out in the war. It wasn’t because they were adamant supporters of Voldemort rather they had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Millicent’s father dealt heavily in the importing of magical creatures. They had been caught in a ploy to bring out Dumbledore and his army. False reports of a transfer of a herd of dragons would occur on the Bulstrode’s property had reached Dumbledore. A large battle ensued, with both her parents falling as casualties.

Millicent had been at his house at the time; her younger brother remained at their home and somehow survived unscathed. During the summer Millicent often spent time at the Zabini home. They had been friends since they were children. They had played on a quidditch team together before they had entered Hogwarts and their parents had been acquaintances. They weren’t as close as when they were younger – Blaise had discovered women and no longer had time for childhood chums – but they were still friends and he worried for her.

Her little brother was a first year. Pansy hadn’t allowed him to come in. It was probably for the better considering the debauchery that occurred in the compartment. He didn’t understand what Pansy held over Millicent that was making her do her bidding.

He watched Millicent’s eyes dart to the door and back to him. She wanted to go to her brother he could read it in her eyes. But as a Slytherin it wouldn’t do to show too much emotion, even if it was a family member. She would have to watch herself.

Blaise looked over toward Pansy who currently was currently wrapped around a sixth year (pickings were slim now). He locked eyes with Millicent again and mouthed ‘go’. She smiled weakly and mouthed back a ‘thanks’. She quietly snuck from the compartment to find her brother.

***************************************************************************

Millicent escaped the small compartment that she had been forced to spend several hours in, Merlin she hated Pansy Parkinson! Millicent understood the dynamic that was emerging. Pansy was making a move for power, with Draco out of the picture little stood in her way. But did she have to be such a slag about it.

It had been suffocating to be held in that room, forced to be witness to the debauchery and games that were being played. Millicent wasn’t a participant in the acts that occurred she never had been, and wasn’t sure that she ever wanted to be.

Millicent preferred the company of her friends, chatting about quidditch as such. She wasn’t interested in gaining power through her sex appeal. A small voice in the back of her head reminded her that her lack of interest in such activities may stem from the fact that she possessed no sex appeal.

She was under no self delusion that she was a pretty girl; in fact she found it easier to rarely contemplate her status as a woman. She knew she was a big girl – she had been told so every day of her life. Her mother often felt that reminding her of her size would prevent her from eating and thereby rectify the problem. Unfortunately for her mother, her plan seemed to have the opposite effect, prompting Millicent to consume more in anger and sadness. She had a plain face that she supposed would be passable if she were thin, framed by shoulder length dark brown hair. She never gave much time to her looks, knowing that it would go to waste. She was better off remaining friends than piddling away time pining over them.

But, that little voice reared up again, that isn’t entirely true now is it. You do pine away for a boy, a boy that will never see you as anything but a friend. You waste plenty of time thinking about him don’t you. Millicent tried to block her thoughts regarding a certain seventh year Slytherin from her mind, but knew she was fighting a losing battle. She had loved him for far too long...

She was interrupted by a shout down the hallway “Millie!” Millicent cringed slightly at the familiarity, but quickly smiled when she caught sight of her younger brother, Wesley.

“Wes!” Millicent sat down on her haunches and let the small form of her brother plow into her. He was a bit young for school, but Dumbledore had made an allowance since her family was gone and her nearest relatives were in Romania.

Wes hugged his sister fiercely. He had been left alone for hours and missed his sister dreadfully. He had developed an especially strong attachment to his older sister since the death of their parents. It had been hard on him he had watched his parents die from the window of his room. Millicent had found him huddled in his room with tears pouring down his cheeks. It had taken him nearly a week to speak again. Then it had been a torrent of memories that had brought tears to Millicent’s eyes and still did to this day.

Millicent had vowed to never leave her brother alone like that again. He was all that she had left.

“How are you doing Wes? Have you made any new friends?”

Wes lowered his head. “Naw” Millicent ruffled his light brown hair.

”It’s alright kid. You’ll have plenty of time once you get sorted.” Millicent grabbed his hand and headed down the hallway in search of a compartment they could sit in. She found Malfoy’s compartment empty so she entered and sat down with her brother.

Wes sidled up next to her, still holding her hand for reassurance. “What will sorting be like? I heard that they make you swim across a lake and fight off a giant squid!” His eyes were wide with horror and excitement.

Millicent laughed. She remembered her time on the train her first year. Rumors had run rampant regarding what they would go through in order to be sorted. She wasn’t about to ruin this tradition. But she was worried for him.

”Wes, I promise you, you will be fine! But that is all that I will tell you.” She finished, tweaking his nose.

If anyone had walked by in the remaining hour of the trip they would have been shocked to see this side of Millicent Bulstrode. This Millicent was far from the tough as nails girl that they saw on a daily basis. She stroked her brother’s hair as he slept soundly on her side.

Blaise smiled as he peered inside the compartment. They were nearing the school and he thought it best if he found her before Pansy started asking questions.

He cracked the door open, “Millicent?” he whispered.

Millicent raised sleepy eyes to the new occupant. “Blaise!” She smiled broadly at him.

Blasie entered the compartment and took a seat next to her. “How is he doing?”

“As well as to be expected...” Millicent sighed. “I don’t know how he is going to handle being separated from me at school.”

“He’ll probably be a Slytherin and then you’ll see him all the time.” Blaise reassured her.

He thought he heard her whisper “I hope to god not” as the train whistle blew, but he wasn’t sure.

Wes awoke at the sound of the shrill whistle. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and smiled as he saw Blaise.

“Blaise!”

“Hey there tyke! How goes it?”

“Great! I’m a little scared about this whole sorting. I don’t know if I can fight off a giant squid.” Wes screwed up his features in comical worry.

Blaise laughed. “I’m sure you will fight them off admirably! Now its time for us to get off this blasted train and head to school.”

Wes jumped up and gladly followed the older boy out.

Millicent stood back in silence. Thanking Merlin that they had Blaise, for however they had him...

_____________________________________________________________________________

I know this chapter is a bit short *apologizes profusely* but I wanted to wait before but starting their entrance into the school, which would be a little much for one chapter. I will try my best to get the next part of the chapter out soon!

I want to remind everyone to check out my live journal http://www.livejournal.com/users/scarlett_wfu/ for somereason this link is not showing up so check out my profile and I will put the link there

Currently there is a Remus/Ginny fic posted there entitled "Red hair... that I wrote (I know it sounds bizarre especially from me – but if you read it you might be pleasantly surprised!)

In the next few days an out-take from this will be posted – it’s H/Hr the night before they get on the Hogwarts Express.

Remember that these are of the NC-17 variety so you have been warned : )

There is also a plot bunny that I had to get out involving an Oliver Wood fic - it will be developed into a full story when I find the time

Leave me a note – thanks for all the reviews!

18. You Can

Okay funny thing when I started this chapter I thought it would be fluffier than normal... boy was I wrong! That is why it has taken so long to get out – I find it challenging to write the darker stuff.

Also just a bit of a warning - this is the most "R" rated chapter to date. There are references to rape - you can't say I didn't warn you!

Thanks as always to all those who reviewed! and special thanks to clanmalfoy for beta'ing this bad boy and to kirixchi for listening to me whine!

Chapter 17 – You Can't Run Forever

The Great Hall hummed with the chatter of students. It wasn’t as loud as in previous years, but voices still carried through the vaulted room.

Ginny had assumed her seat at the Gryffindor table. Colin sat to her right; he was bitterly lamenting that they had to wait for the Sorting for the meal to be served. Apparently he had slept through the trolley on the train, and was quite regretting it.

She sat quietly; she didn’t feel the need to speak and fill the silence. It was a bit surreal being back at school. There were many missing faces, the most from the Slytherin table. As Ginny watched the faces of her classmates, she understood why Dumbledore had insisted that they resume classes as soon as possible. She saw healing in their expressions and words. The empty seats were recognized and mourned and then those that remained reconnected, and remembered the strength of friendship.

If only it were that easy, she sighed.

Ginny’s eyes, of their own accord, met steel gray ones. They locked gazes, many words unspoken. Uncharacteristically Draco was the first to break contact. His eyes darted away.

Ginny dropped her head. What was happening? Why was he acting this way?

She understood the need for secrecy; she honestly didn’t know how to approach the friendship they had forged this summer either. But there was something else, something else that was causing to him to act so coldly.

A small voice in the back of her head, the same one that she had been trying to ignore since she had left his compartment on the train, spoke up again. This is what you knew would happen. Why would you think that Draco Malfoy would actually be your friend? You are a muggle loving Weasley and that’s not even the half of it. He knows... he knows what kind of person you really are.

Names were being called in the background. But Ginny was unaware.

She vaguely heard the cheers surrounding her when Hermione was announced Head Girl.

The cheers continued as small, frightened first years made their way to the dais and donned the Sorting Hat.

Louis Adams... Hufflepuff.

Claire Anderson... Ravenclaw.

Wesley Bulstrode... Gryffindor

.

Even the loud gasp that was quickly followed by polite applause from the Gryffindor table didn’t reach Ginny’s subconscious.

She needed to get out of the hall. She felt constricted; her thoughts were spiraling, pulling her down. As the names of fresh-faced first years continued to be called Ginny stepped out of her seat at the end of the table and backed out of the hall.

Colin felt Ginny move next to him. He stopped talking to Seamus and found her seat open.

“Gin?” He looked back and caught her silently moving away from the hall. She shook her head at him and kept moving.

Colin moved to stand up, but a movement across the hall stopped him. Draco Malfoy was rising from his seat. Colin stopped; something inside him told him to let events play out. Something had changed in Draco Malfoy, he wasn’t the same irritating prat that he had been. More importantly, something had changed between Draco and Ginny; he had sensed it in their confrontation on the train.

******************************************************************************

Draco was alone. For the first time in all his years at Hogwarts he sat alone at the Slytherin table. Gone were Crabbe and Goyle. Goyle was still in school, but he had sensed the shift in power and had quickly sniffed out a new leader.

Blaise Zabini appeared to have stepped up to the role. Slytherins sat around him, Pansy to his right. He had made his move to replace Draco and Pansy had followed suit.

Pansy shot Draco a withering glare. She was angry with him; that much was evident. There seemed to be more in her cold gaze, though, perhaps disappointment. He had betrayed their House as far as they were concerned.

Of course most Slytherins knew what had happened, who had died at his hand. They at least knew more than the average student. Most of their parents were very well connected either to the Ministry or to the Dark Arts, and knowledge of his acts would be available to them.

This is why he had asked that Dumbledore remain silent as to his deeds. Draco didn’t want to answer questions, receive stares of hatred or, Merlin forbid, pity. His actions were his and his alone.

He vaguely heard Dumbledore announce his name as Head Boy. He ignored the gasps that resounded through hall at the revelation. Draco merely inclined his head in recognition of his position.

He sneered at the raucous cheering that erupted from the Gryffindor table as Hermione’s name was announced as Head Girl. She blushed and stood bowing her head in acceptance, only to fall happily into Harry’s arms as he hugged her in congratulations.

He continued to scan the Gryffindor table. He finally caught sight of the one person he had been both seeking out and consciously avoiding, Ginny Weasley.

She looked pale, surrounded by the warm red and gold of her house. Her eyes remained fixed; apparently she had found a deep interest in the table dressing. Colin sat next to her, gesticulating wildly to Seamus.

She looked alone. He shouldn’t want to sit with her. He shouldn’t want to remove the pain that dulled her eyes. He shouldn’t even look at her. But he did.

He didn’t doubt the words of Nott that night; he was well acquainted with the tactics and the methods of Death Eaters. He had expected retaliation, but he hadn’t expected to have someone else to worry about.

He logically knew that the best plan was to cut himself off from the redhead. It shouldn’t be terribly difficult, should it? She was just an ickle-Gryffindor and a Weasley to boot, he rationalized. But despite all the reasons his mind produced, his heart told him differently.

Draco Malfoy wasn’t accustomed to his emotions dictating his actions. In fact the simple truth that he cared, made him want to throw Ginny to the wind all the more.

But as he watched her eyes go large and her body jump up, he knew that he couldn’t obey the rational side of his mind. He couldn’t leave this lost soul to the wind. He wouldn’t let another person drift away while no one else noticed.

When she quietly began backing out of the hall, he followed suit. He really had no choice.

****************************************************************************

It didn’t matter where she went as long as it was away. Halls whipped by her, stone wall after stone wall.

Her self-doubt and memory consumed her. She couldn’t escape from this though.

Ginny found herself at the end of a hallway somewhere on the third floor. It was dark in the windowless corner. She rested her head on the cold stone wall, attempting to still her rasping breaths from her flight.

She could feel the frustration welling just behind her eyes. It continued to build as she pictured her classmates smiling in the Hall, laughing and happy. She saw Harry and Hermione, hands clasped wandering off the train, Seamus and Dean arguing over Quidditch. Didn’t they understand that nothing was the same?

Nothing would ever be the same again.

She could never again be the Ginny who would run down the stairs and blush innocently at the sight of Harry Potter, the Ginny who would giggle as Ron and Hermione fought, the Ginny who believed that every rainbow had a pot of gold and every story a happy ending. She now knew all too well that most rainbows met dark ends and stories often ended tragically.

She flipped over pressing her back against the wall, allowing the cold stone to cool her body. She slid down the wall like a rag doll. Her knees folded up and she rested her forehead on them. Her hands were fisted in her robes, impotently seeking purchase.

She sat there, silently, unable even to cry, allowing the memories to flood her system.

Draco rounded the corner, he had been through nearly every hall on the third floor. As he followed her flight from the hall he caught a glimpse of red hair and flying black robes entering the third floor corridor.

He almost missed her. She was a small bundle of sharp knees, red hair and robes, scrunched against the stone wall.

She could hear his footsteps approaching. She knew it was him, his gait was precise and his expensive shoes snapped against the hard floor.

She didn’t know why he was here. She was afraid he would see what was in her eyes. So Ginny remained with her head buried in her knees, waiting for him to break the silence.

He came to a stop in front of her, his mind still warring. Ultimately it was her utter silence that ended the battle.

He hunkered down on his haunches before her. He took a deep breath and uttered two words very unfamiliar to his vocabulary. “I’m sorry.”

She refused to look up, she wouldn’t meet his eyes. His words washed over her not truly penetrating.

Draco watched her, her head remaining buried in her knees, “Gin? Gin, what is it?”

She merely shook her head her hair spreading out.

He reached an arm forward and ran it through her hair. He didn’t know why he was sitting here with her when she wasn’t talking to him. He didn’t know why he couldn’t just let her be. He did know that he had seen something in her earlier, and he would be damned if he didn’t figure it out.

“I’m sorry that I have been short with you... there are reasons.” He stopped there; he didn’t want to explain further, not now.

Ginny looked up slowly. “It’s okay, it doesn’t matter.” Her voice was hollow and her tone short. “Just go, Draco...”

“No.”

She raised her eyes again; she wanted to believe that he cared. She was terrified that if she told him what she had remembered he wouldn’t feel that way ever again, But what frightened her even more was how dependent upon his support she had become.

Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears, and wracked with agony. It came to him as watched her try to avoid his gaze. His hand remained in her hair, softly stroking its length. “You remember, don’t you?”

Her mouth fell open and her eyes grew large.

“Tell me.”

He made it sound so simple, just tell him and everything would be better. She hadn’t expected him to take that line. She felt impotent anger rise up in her.

“Oh is it that simple?” she snapped.

Draco remained impassive. She was close to breaking, it wouldn’t do to have them both riled.

“Yes, it can be.”

“Well, it’s not and I’m not going to pretend that it is. Nothing is ever that simple. I would have thought you of all people would understand that.” Ginny exhaled deeply. The anger that she had built up began to fall away. It had been just a shell she realized as it slipped away and she was left with nothing. “Just go, Draco...”

His hand continued to stroke her scalp, “Please... Don’t... I don’t want you to see me like this... I’m not worth it.”

She felt her body being pulled up from the ground, and encased in strong arms. She felt his breath stir near her ear.

“You are the only thing that is worth it.”

She supposed it was the hypocrisy of his statement that started the flow of tears. Whatever it was, it had worn her resistance down and she couldn’t hold it back anymore.

He felt her body convulse in his arms. Where else he had failed in trying to snap her out of the mood he found her in, this had worked. He supposed tears were better than her raging.

“Why did he pick me Draco? Why was it me who he wanted to carry his child? Why did he have to take it all away from me?”

Draco’s arms tightened around, he wished he didn’t have to hear these memories. She sounded broken, defeated and utterly unlike Ginny Weasley. The girl he knew had managed to stay strong, tease and laugh in spite of what had occurred. He supposed though that ignorance was bliss.

“Because of who you are, Ginny. You came from a pureblood family; an ancient family with powerful magic. He had access to your mind, and through you access to everyone he wanted to kill.”

His logical reasons penetrated the haze of her mind. Amidst sobs she said, “I know, I’ve known all along, but it hurts so much. I wish I didn’t remember.”

Draco scooped up her legs and cradling her against his chest he looked for an empty classroom – anywhere that wasn’t the hallway.

She was light in his arms. Her body felt painfully thin after this summer and her injuries, and it heaved with the remnants of her sobs.

Draco pushed the door to the Muggle Studies classroom with his back. The back of the room was furnished as a muggle living room. There was a sofa with a television and a radio. He headed to the overly stuffed floral couch – he grimaced at the very idea of sitting there.

Ginny’s fingers clutched at his nape, her cheek was pressed into the fabric covering his chest. Once settled, he let her cry it out. Ginny tried to stifle her tears; she hated that she had turned into a watering pot.

“I’m sorry, I’ve messed up your shirt.” Ginny sniffled as she pulled back. “Where are we?” She looked around having been completely oblivious to the fact that Draco had taken her from the hallway.

“It looks to be Muggle Studies,” Draco responded, a look of disgust on his features.

Ginny wanted to laugh at the expression on his face, but the sound just didn’t come.

Draco took his knuckle and swept away the remaining path of tears that marred her cheek. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The quiet understanding in his eyes proved to be her undoing.

”I want to... but I can’t.” Her chin dropped down.

“Why not?”

Ginny remained silent...determining how to respond to his simple question. In the end, honesty won out. She just didn’t have it in her to evade the truth.

“I don’t want you to leave me.”

Draco stilled, her words were stark.

“If I tell you, you’ll see who I really am... and then I will truly be alone. Maybe I’m selfish but I won’t do that, I can’t do that.”

Draco lifted her chin up, “I won’t leave you... You’re stuck with me.” The words were foreign coming out of his mouth. He didn’t know what he was saying, but it felt right.

She began slowly. His sincerity seemed genuine and she knew that this would eat her alive were it to be left to fester.

“The night you arrived at the Burrow... the nightmare I was having...” she swallowed loudly, her mouth suddenly dry.

Draco nodded, figuring as much. He let her go at her pace; this was her story to tell.

She leaned her head back onto his chest and closed her eyes. Her memories began to fall, slow and steady from her lips.

Her head was spinning; the potion was in full effect. She could make out the glowing light of a candle near the door, the door she hadn’t noticed until now.

Her breathing was shallow despite the relaxing effect of the potion she had been fed. She had been brought into this room several times, but never had she been left alone.

Footsteps echoed, but Ginny couldn’t determine where the sounds were coming from. Her head was heavy; she rested it on the back of the chair she had been pushed into earlier. Her eyelids floated downward.

How long she rested there she didn’t know. Time had no meaning anymore. A creak alerted her senses. Ginny cracked her eyes open, the door in front of her slowly opened.

A figure filled the doorway. Black billowing robes fluttered about the figure.

“Ah... Virginia.”

It was the voice! Her eyes flew open and she tried to rouse herself from her chair. She hadn’t the strength. Her mind was clear now, but her body sluggish.

“Shhh... my child. Don’t struggle.” His voice resounded through her head, strong and imposing.

He stepped forward. Ginny sucked in a breath as his features came into stark relief. He wasn’t quite human... he couldn’t be. His skin was unnaturally pale, and his eyes were mere slits, burning red. He continued to move closer until he stood directly in front of her.

“Virginia, why the shock? You knew I would come for you. I missed talking to you.”

His voice caressed her mind, curling through her thoughts. Throughout his speech, his mouth remained still, never cracking.

He leaned forward, the black fabric of his robes circled around her like a tent. Ginny’s heartbeat increased; a feeling of entrapment seized her heart. She felt his cold, bony hands graze her cheek. She shuddered at his touch.

“I disgust you don’t I?” Ginny blinked at his question.

“Would you prefer I look like this?” He pulled a wand from the pockets of his robe and waved it. His blue-tinted skin was replaced with the healthy glow of youth. The hood to his robe fell away to reveal wavy black hair. He smiled at her shock.

“Don’t you remember your friend, Virginia? Don’t you remember how I talked with you, helped you, was there for you when you were so alone?” Ginny was unable to speak. She continued to blink her acknowledgment.

“I never forgot you Virginia, I never forgot what a strong witch you could become, and I never forgot how you deserved to be treated.”

She couldn’t believe this was happening. Tom was standing before her, the Tom who had talked to her for a year, Tom who had tried to kill her, Tom who had ruined her life.

“Ah so you do remember... I didn’t think you would forget me.” She stared at him in disbelief, he seemingly was reading her mind.

“No, I am not reading your mind. Although I could, if I wanted, it’s just that your thoughts are so plainly visible.”

Her eyes slightly narrowed the utter shock at seeing Tom was starting to wear off.

“So your fire has not been completely extinguished, I like that.” Tom’s boyishly handsome face smiled.

Ginny opened her mouth to speak but Tom silenced her. “Now, Virginia, I know you wonder why you are here. It’s quite simple really. But I’d really rather not talk about that, I’d rather talk about you.”

“Does Harry still ignore you? Has Ron listened to a word you’ve said? Does your mother still think castoffs are suitable for you? Do you still feel trapped by your last name?”

His barrage of questions hit Ginny like a ton or bricks. It was everything she had ever written to him about. What hit the hardest was that they were still true. Everything that she had confided in Tom still haunted her. She had once though that by writing down those emotions that she would no longer be harnessed by her worries. Apparently she had been quite deluded.

“Ahhh... Ginny,” he pointedly used her abbreviated name. “I remember how much they hurt you. I can take away that pain. It is simple really.” He echoed his earlier words.

“No.” It was the first words that she had spoken and it was all that she could get out. Everything he said was painfully true, but she knew that whatever he offered her would never be worth the cost.

He didn’t grow angry, yet.

Tom raised an eyebrow and pulled back from her a bit. “Feisty.” Tom ran a finger down her cheek. Ginny shivered at his touch, it was so cold.

“Think about it Ginny, think of all that you could have...” Tom turned swiftly and left her alone in the room.

Ginny stared at him blankly after him. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to be put in a position where she had to choose between sacrificing everything she had ever known and loved for the chance to perhaps rise above the limits of her reality.

She didn’t want to think about what Tom was really offering. It was almost easy to forget that he was Lord Voldemort, a manifestation of pure evil, when he stood before her as Tom. She had always remained a bit conflicted over her experiences during her first year. Tom had first been her friend. He had hurt her though, made her do terrible things, tried to kill her. Looking back she never saw him as that friend anymore. Instead she saw him as an opportunist, one who took advantage of a desperately lonely, impressionable 11 year old.

But her mind could never divorce the pleasure she had felt with him as a confidant. He had listened to her, valued her opinion, and allowed her to do things she never imagined. He had promised her power then... She had been too weak to put up much of a defense, and it had almost gotten her killed. She wouldn’t be so foolish again.

But, she thought. This is different. There is no way out of this situation; there is no Harry Potter to save me anymore. He was never “my” hero, and he never will be she thought bitterly.

Ginny was left in the room, silent as a tomb, for several hours. She could hear the sounds of those passing by periodically. It was that contact with the outside world that kept her sane, drugged and incapacitated as she was. She wondered what Voldemort would do when she refused to take his offers; she wondered what it was he wanted in return if she were to accept. If she had learned anything from him it was that nothing was done without a calculated benefit.

The door creaked open once again and Tom, not Lord Voldemort, stood in the jamb.

He beckoned her forward with one hand. “Come, Virginia.”

The spells that had bound her to the chair were lifted. Ginny slowly put her limbs to use, they were slow and unresponsive. She had managed to pull herself upright when she felt pressure on her arm. She looked over; Tom had cupped her forearm and was helping her forward.

He smiled down at her. “I have something to show you.”

Ginny continued to stare up at him dumbly. She shook her head breaking the contact. Why was he doing this to her? Why was he able to so easily breach her defenses?

The room he helped her into was resplendent. Decorated in rich fabrics and dark woods, it was fantastic in size and expense. It brought to mind images of what a room in Malfoy Manor must look like.

”Are you tired Ginny? Go on, lie down a bit.” Still holding her arm, Tom directed her toward the large bed, displayed on a dais, in the middle of the room.

Ginny felt as though she was floating above her body merely observing its actions, as much control as she had over them. Her body sank into the downy mattress and her head fell onto a fluffy pillow. It was by far the most comfortable bed she had ever touched.

She felt the mattress sink as Tom lowered himself to its edge. She could feel his hand in her hair, caressing the strands.

”Do you like the room?” he asked quietly.

Ginny, dazed at the circumstances, merely nodded.

“From our conversations I always pictured this as a room in which you would find comfort.”

“It’s beautiful,” Ginny finally managed to remark.

His thumb made a lazy pass over her cheekbone. “Not as beautiful as you, my dear.”

What was going on? Ginny wondered. Why was he acting this way? Nothing was right.

A serious light entered Tom’s eyes. “I can feel the power in you, Ginny.” Tom finally broke the silence. “Why do you deny the magic in you? You are powerful beyond your imagination.”

“I...wha... The power?” Ginny finally managed to bite out.

“Virginia,” he began, his voice soft as if he were conversing with a young child. “You are a rare girl in a longstanding family of pureblooded wizards. The last Weasley female was born long before my time. In that uniqueness you have the potential to produce very powerful heirs. All depending upon who you breed with.”

Ginny’s eyes widened, she had never thought much about the lack of females on her fathers side of the family. There were always many around in the form of wives. The turn of his conversation made the hackles on the back of her neck stand up.

“The magic in your blood runs strong for this express purpose; the child you produce will be exceptional.” Tom stared into Ginny’s large eyes; his finger strayed from her hair and caressed her check only to still on her chin. He tilted it up and just as he lowered his lips to hers he whispered, “And it will be mine.”

Ginny had watched his face approach hers. His hair was warmed by the glow of candles surrounding the bed. She had never noticed his eyes before; they were hazel with predominately green flecks. She watched as in slow motion as his mouth closed over hers. The heat was intense, his tongue coaxing her lips opened. As he entered her mouth flooding her senses, his words penetrated her mind.

His child! Ginny’s mind rebelled. No! She would never let that happen.

She struggled a bit trying to pull away. Tom placed his hands on her upper arms, using his strength and leverage to pacify her. When she quieted a bit, he deepened the kiss. His tongue slowly rubbed across hers, teasing in its path. Ginny ignored the pleasure that it was intended to give.

She tensed her arms again, but between the potions she had been given earlier to relax her and his superior strength she knew it would be futile. So Ginny did the only thing she could think of to stop him. She bit his tongue sharply.

Tom pulled up quickly, he didn’t call out in pain rather he just glared at her and held his jaw with one hand. He spit a small amount of blood to the side of the bed and turned his attention back toward Ginny.

“That wasn’t wise, my Virginia.” He removed his hand from his jaw and quickly clamped her arms against the bed.

He stared her in the eye. “This, my dear, can be easy or it can be hard. The choice is entirely up to you.”

Ginny felt impotent anger welling up in her. That was no choice at all. She wouldn’t acquiesce. She had to fight; she couldn’t live with herself if she took the easy way out.“Never!’ Ginny spat in Tom’s face.

She watched his features darken. Gone was the warm façade he had presented while trying to manipulate her, in its stead was the real Tom - The Tom who hated his muggle father, the Tom who had been mistreated as an orphan so much so that he snapped and dedicated his life to eradicating muggles. This was the Tom that frightened Ginny.

“To think I once held you in high regard – A Gryffindor with a modicum of sense. Very well, Virginia, be that as it may.”

Tom took off his outer robes and with a flick of his wand she found herself stripped of the ragged school uniform that she had been left with since her capture. Her hands flew forward to cover herself. Tom’s wand flicked again and she found her arms tied above her head, leaving her completely exposed and vulnerable.

“Just remember, Ginny, this was your choice. As your favorite little professor always says, it is your choices that make you who you are.”

Ginny fought with every ounce of her being, and as she knew it would be, it wasn’t enough.

She found Tom relying on physical strength rather than magical devices to complete his act. Blows rained upon her head as she spewed comments at him, reminding him of his low birth. She referred to her blood and how he would never be good enough for her, anything she could think of in the heat of the moment that would hurt him. It was the only way she could inflict pain on him, as he was doing to her.

After a particularly strong backhand to the cheek, Ginny lay dazed. He took advantage of her incapacity and she felt him enter her, tearing her. She closed her eyes against the pain. She refused to cry, or to call out. He would never know how much he was hurting her, she would rather die.

Ginny watched the scene as if she were an objective observer. She tried to separate her mind from her body. Although it felt as though a lifetime had passed, it ended as quickly as it had begun. Tom stiffened above her then his head dropped. He didn’t let himself fall atop her; rather he kept his arm locked. His boyish face hovered above hers.

When his eyes opened, the hazel seemed to have completely disappeared. His eyes glowed green with power and satisfaction. He locked his eyes with hers. “Remember, Virginia, this was your choice. It didn’t have to be this way.”

Tom pulled himself away from Ginny, stood up and shrugged on his robes. He left the room, purpose to his strides.

She hadn’t shed a tear the entire time; she remained stoic and silent in Draco’s arms. Occasionally the small sweep of his hands across her back could be heard in the stillness of the classroom.

“I don’t know how many times it happened; I don’t know how many times I found myself in that room, nursing bruises and painful reminders of Tom’s presence. Each time though, on the following evening, a grizzled old witch would come and run a few tests, until her wand indicated I was pregnant... Only then did he leave me alone.”

“How I hated that child and yet loved it! It kept him away from me... How could I feel that way? Merlin, Draco! What kind of monster am I? It didn’t have a choice in the matter?”

She tried to scramble out of his embrace. Draco fought to keep her flailing limbs within the circle of his arms. “Don’t touch me!” she shrieked. the dam was breaking and she was becoming hysterical. “Don’t!” She scraped at her arms with her nails, “I can still feel his touch, it was so cold...”

Broken phrases continued to pour from her lips. Draco could make out several recurring words and phrases -- “dirty,” “her child,” and “cold, so cold.” Her fevered pitch seemed to have reached its zenith and her hands continued to claw at her bare arms. Long red welts appeared on the pale skin.

Draco moved forward. She was hurting herself. “Ginny? Shhhh....” He tried to use soothing tones as he approached her form at the opposite end of the sofa.

She didn’t look up at him; she seemed utterly unaware of his presence in the room. Draco slowly placed one hand atop hers, stilling its harmful path across her forearm. Finding success, he followed suit with his other hand.

Pleased that he had stopped her from hurting herself further, he settled himself next to her. She remained rigid next to him, her body utterly still.

“They have every right to hate me...” She finally turned her face towards him; her eyes were large and dull. “How can they stand to even look at me?”

Draco remained silent. There was little he could say even if he knew the words. He could tell her that she was none of the things she thought herself, but it would mean little until she could believe it herself. So he let her speak all her insecurities and share everything that was consuming her. When she would work herself back up again, he would whisper quiet, calming words in her ear.

Eventually she stopped speaking. Silence filled the room, but it was comfortable. Draco felt her weight finally relax against his side. He looked down, her head rested on his shoulder and her hand lay next to his.

Ginny’s face was pale against his dark robes and next to her dark red hair. The sweep of her lashes touched her freckled cheeks as her breathing slowed into the rhythms of sleep. He let her rest against him; he would take her back to the Gryffindor common room later. Preferably, once everyone was asleep; he didn’t fancy running into Granger, Potter or, even worse, Weasley.

He sat, contemplating the complication she represented, the threat she was to the walls he had built for protection, and concern he felt toward her that he was unable to quash.

Somehow during it all Draco found his hand moving over hers and his fingers curling around comfortably. It felt right, and so he remained with their hands intertwined until the night grew late and the room chilled.

19. Conversations

Disclaimer: I own Jack... only a ton of Constitutional law studying that I haven’t done!

Sorry for the delay... Good god I know it has been like 2 months. But I needed to regroup and re-evaluate the story. But all is well now... only if school would cooperate ?

Chapter 18: Conversations

Hermione’s quill scratched quietly, the small sound echoing through the silent common room. School had yet to start, yet this was no hindrance to the new Head Girl. It was early and her classmates were still lost in the slumber that seemed to avoid Hermione these days. She pinched her nose and set down her quill. She couldn’t remember the last time she had managed a full night’s sleep. Glamour charms did wonders to hide the darkening rings that blossomed beneath her eyes.

Her mind muddled the happiness from attaining her penultimate goal, the position of Head Girl, with the sorrow and confusion over the changes that had been wrought in her second home.

The classes were smaller this year; many students either hadn’t returned or weren’t here to return. Those that had returned were not the same students that had left, Hermione included.

She tried not to dwell on it, she should be happy. The war was over, and all her close friends had made it through alive. She was Head Girl and she was dating Harry, the love of her life. Right?

She wasn’t and she knew it. Harry’s loving words no longer eased the ache that seemed to be perpetually present in her chest. Knowing that all her hard work had been rewarded felt hollow.

The whisper of footsteps entering the common room echoed off the stone walls. Hermione’s head popped up at the sound and she caught sight of a red-headed figure slowly moving through the chilly room.

“Ginny?” Hermione questioned quietly.

To say the least, she was surprised to see the younger girl this early in the morning. Ginny’s black robes hung haphazardly from her small shoulders and her hair was mussed as though she had been asleep.

Ginny turned her head at the sound of Hermione’s voice. She should have known that sneaking into her dorm unnoticed at five in the morning was just too much to ask.

With a loud expulsion of air Ginny raised her eyes to Hermione. “Yes.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly and set her quill down. “You’re up awfully early, or should I say out rather late.”

Ginny held her gaze level. She really didn’t feel like the accusations that she was sure were to come from the Head Girl. “Yes, should I expect a detention tomorrow or just points taken away?” she questioned her voice steady but hollow.

Hermione reminded herself that despite Ron’s feelings about his sister and her possible illicit relations, she had seen Ginny with her own two eyes this summer. She couldn’t pass judgment, as he had, and live with herself in the morning.

Hermione stood up, replacing the inquisitorial look in her eyes with one of motherly concern. She walked over to where Ginny stood, legs locked and arms rigid at her sides.

“Ginny, I’m not your brother.” She extended an arm to the plush red sofa across from the fireplace. “Would you sit with me for awhile?”

It was Ginny’s turn to narrow her eyes. “Why?”

Hermione sighed. She supposed she shouldn’t have expected anything different. Ginny’s monosyllabic answers were what she would have done in the same situation.

“We used to talk...” Hermione lowered her lashes, “I thought we could again.”

Ginny laughed. The sound was brittle and much older than her years. “That’s rich Hermione. We talked, I suppose. But it was more a matter of necessity, wasn’t it. In that case: No, I don’t know where Ron is, nor Harry and I think Mum is serving Shepard’s Pie for dinner tonight. There, we should be caught up now.”

Ginny turned to head up the stairs to her dormitory, feeling the weariness in her bones sink in.

“I saw you... There... Ginny, what did they do to you?”

Ginny stopped her back rigid. She kept her head high as she swiveled around to meet Hermione’s gaze. Hermione stood by the couch, her eyes touched with concern and curiosity.

“Does it matter, Hermione It all worked out in the end, didn’t it? We’re all here, just as we ought to be. You’re Head Girl, Harry is here to love you, and life is back to normal.”

Ginny was almost surprised by the bitterness in her voice and the contempt with which she was responding to Hermione. She almost smirked. "Draco must be rubbing off on me," she thought.

Instead of the gasp of outrage that she expected to hear uttered from Hermione’s mouth, the older girl lowered her head and choked back a sob.

Ginny stepped forward. No matter the anger and hurt she harbored toward Hermione, she couldn’t watch the girl cry in pain; in that respect she would never be the girl Tom had desired. She placed a hesitant hand on Hermione’s shaking shoulder.

Brown hair whipped back as Hermione’s head shot up. Hermione furiously wiped at the tears that had begun to course down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Ginny. I watched them drag you out of some room. I saw your eyes... Merlin it haunts me at night... the look in your eyes was heartbreaking. Yet I didn’t do anything. I sat in my cell, not a bruise on my body and did nothing.... and... and when it all ended I ran into Harry’s arms and forgot all about you. But... But I never forgot your eyes. Merlin I’m sorry!” Hermione sunk down onto the cushions, crying in earnest.

Ginny stood, staring at the small coals that still glowed in the fireplace. She could hear Hermione’s sobs, but found that she couldn’t move. Her words seemed to graze across her mind and skate over her soul. What did one do with that apology? Did you simply pat her back and absolve her of all wrong doing? It wasn’t as if holding the grudge would change the outcome in any matter. "It didn’t really matter what Hermione thought anyway, did it?" she thought to herself. None of it mattered.

Finally she turned her attention back to the weeping girl who was perched on the edge of the couch. “It’s okay Hermione. I suppose I would have done the same.” Ginny’s eyes focused on a copy of Hogwarts, A History on the bookshelf to the right of Hermione’s head.

Watery eyes locked onto Ginny’s face. Hermione shook her head. “No, it’s not. You have every reason to be angry with me... with all of us.” Hermione reached a hand up and clasped Ginny’s forearm.

A shudder ran through Ginny’s body at the contact. Cold hands... A crushing grip... Ginny wrenched her arm away from Hermione with a gasp.

“Really, Hermione. It’s fine. Like I said, we’ll all be fine. Don’t worry yourself. You have what you always wanted, does it really matter anymore?”

Ginny covered her hand over the spot where Hermione’s hand had just lingered. She closed her eyes briefly, before turning on her heel and leaving the room.

Hermione sat silently, her hands hanging limply at her sides. She should have known that it wouldn't be that simple. It was foolish to have thought so. Grasping for straws, Hermione rose from her seat and returned to the desk. Picking up her quill and sniffling she began scratching away again; the theories of spell binding filling the hole that remained gaping and raw.

***

Draco entered his new room quietly; he had deposited a sleeping Ginny in front of the Gryffindor common room, waking her only to have her enter the portrait. He had brushed a lock of her fiery hair behind her ear and pushed her through.

He scanned his new surroundings. The room was larger than he thought, decorated unsurprisingly in silver and green. Forgoing his usual formalities, Draco lay on the bed; arms crossed behind his head and closed his eyes. He needed sleep before he even attempted to think about anything... especially Ginny.

A slow knock at his door woke Draco several hours later. Shaking the sleep from his head, he ran a hand through his hair and stood up. Reaching the door he opened it warily, positive that he wouldn’t want to deal with whoever waited behind the portal.

A tall, dark-haired figure stood in the entrance... Blaise. Draco quirked an eyebrow. “Yes, Zabini. To what do I owe this honor?”

A slow smile worked its way across Blaise’s features. “Need I a reason, Draco?” Blaise asked smoothly.

A narrowing of silver eyes was the only response as Draco stepped aside and let Blaise into the room.

“I suppose it does pay to be the Head Boy,” Blaise remarked as he circled the interior of the room, his eyes scanning the rich decoration.

Draco murmured his assent, wishing Blaise would get to his point. He didn’t feel like playing this game right now. He raked a hand through his hair, his exasperation becoming evident. “What do you want?”

Blaise cocked an eyebrow and studied Draco for a moment before he responded. He took a seat at the small round table near the stone fireplace. “I had no role in the war...” He began slowly.

Draco shifted his weight to one heel.

“Much to my father’s chagrin of course, I chose to go to my grandparents’ villa in Tuscany. Of course now that my father is rotting in Azkaban he might see the value in my retreat,” Blaise laughed glibly.

“I understand what happened this summer, and the position you are in now. I am asking that you understand my position,” Blaise continued, holding Draco’s eyes for a moment. “I have no desire to see you tarred and feathered for your role. Everyone had to make choices.”

Draco nodded. “Yes, we all did. Some fought -- winning or losing. Others ran.” He sent a pointed look toward Blaise. “But I suppose I can’t fault you for your actions. In retrospect there are times I wish I had made the same choice."

Blaise nodded. He wasn’t necessarily proud of his actions, but it hadn’t been his war to fight. He looked around; this was his element. Picking up after the fall, rebuilding...

“No, Draco. It was your battle, the one you were meant to fight. It wouldn’t have ended if not for you, as much as many members of our house wish to the contrary. This is why I am here.” Blaise finally broached the topic.

“We’ve been decimated, not only in numbers but in spirit. There is animosity present that the other houses don’t have to experience. Although, I am sure I don’t need to tell you this.” Draco nodded. “I don’t want to further it by alienating the strongest members of our house.” Blaise shot a look at Draco.

Draco stood silently, one hip perched on the edge of his desk. He let Blaise’s words drift through his mind slowly. “I’ll remember that.” His tone was final and dismissive.

Blaise stood up and headed toward the large wooden door. He inclined his head slowly before pushing through and heading back to the common room.

***

Millicent sat quietly on the edge of garish gilt chair. The headmaster had the most eclectic taste, but somehow it fit the old man. She wrung her hands lightly; she hadn’t a clue as to why she had been called into his office. She hoped it hadn’t anything to do with Wes.

Dumbledore raised his head from a stack of parchment that was piled in front of him and set his quill aside. “Thank you for waiting, Ms. Bulstrode. I needed to get that correspondence sent out.”

Millicent nodded her head briefly, a fringe of dark hair falling across her features.

”I have called you in because of your brother.”

Millicent felt her stomach plummet and her hand gripped her skirt. Her worry must have been apparent on her features, as Albus reached across the desk and patted her other hand that had come to rest on the wooden edge. “He’s fine, I assure you. In fact he seems to have taken to his new dormitories quite well.”

Millicent breathed a sigh of relief. “What then...” She cleared her throat. “Did you ask me here for?”

“I wanted to talk to you about your brother’s circumstances.” Dumbledore began. “He’s a bit young yet. Not 11, as you well know. I allowed him early entrance because quite frankly, with the loss of your parents, he has few places to go besides Romania with your uncle.”

Millicent nodded. “I can’t thank you enough for allowing him to come early. I don’t think I could have sent him off to Romania.... alone.”

Dumbledore smiled kindly. “I understand. I’m just a bit worried that he isn’t ready for some of the class work yet.”

“I can work with him,” Millicent interjected quickly. “I’ll tutor him every afternoon; I’ll make sure he passes all his exams.”

Dumbledore chuckled. “You needn’t do that. In fact I just wanted to let you know that I will be spending some time with the boy. I’ll personally help prepare him for his classes. He seems exceptionally bright; he shouldn’t have a problem keeping up with the course load.”

Millicent flushed. “Thank you, Professor. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you have done for my family.”

“No thanks are necessary.” Dumbledore rooted through a small basket on his desk and produced a lemon drop. “Sweet?”

“No thanks.” Millicent shook her head. “I really shouldn’t....” She stared at the sweet for a moment, before snatching it from his palm and popping it in her mouth.

A white eyebrow went up incrementally. “How do you feel about his placement?” Dumbledore asked quietly.

Millicent bit her lip. She wanted to smile ear to ear and praise Merlin that he hadn’t been placed in the snake’s pit of her House. But she knew that she couldn’t let those feelings be known.

“Well, I was shocked to say the least. As long as he is happy wherever he is, I’m pleased.” Millicent finally raised her head to meet Dumbledore’s eyes. “Do you think they will hold him accountable for me... will they treat him any differently because his sister is a Slytherin?”

“I understand your worry. I know that relations between the Houses can be rough. I don’t expect that any of them will harm him or hold him responsible for the choices of the Sorting Hat. If they do... it will not go unpunished.”

Millicent smiled in relief. “Thank you.”

“Well, Ms. Bulstrode, I’ve kept you long enough. If I’m not mistaken your brother has been looking for you. You should find him wandering about the dungeons.”

~*~

The wind was crisp across the top of the lake. Draco felt the biting air ruffle his hair. He was lost in thought, his talk with Blaise heavy on his mind.

“Draco...” He heard his name as if on the wind.

pHe paused in his step. It was her voice. He slowly turned and caught sight of her, the wind lifting strands of vivid red. Her cheeks were pinked from the sharp air.

One corner of her mouth was curled up in a smile as she came to a stop before him. Silence settled between them. Ginny could only hear the beat of her own heart and the whistle of wind as it picked up off the shores of the lake.

Her eyelids slipped close as she turned toward the lake, breathing in the coolly scented air. She opened her eyes to find Draco unmoved. “It’s funny,” she began.

Draco started as if shocked and turned to face the choppy blue-grey waters with her.

“Last year at this time I was sitting in my dorm room attempting to banish my freckles to the far reaches of the galaxy... all in an effort to get Dean Thomas to like me.” She laughed lightly, the sound of glass breaking.

She thought she heard Draco mutter “bloody poof” under his breath, but she couldn’t be sure. “Now, I’m standing by the lake with Draco ‘Bloody Git’ Malfoy.” She turned her face toward him and a genuine smile lit up her features. "Somehow worrying about my freckles just doesn’t compare now, does it.”

Draco grunted approval, sounding rather like Crabbe and Goyle than the silver tongued Malfoy that he was.

“You’re quiet today.” Ginny commented.

“It was a long day.” He responded after a space of time. Ginny looked up at him quizzically, before her eyes darkened.

“I’m sorry; Merlin knows how long... how long I kept you up last night,” she whispered, suddenly conscious of all that had spilled from her lips the night before, and the glaring light of day that highlighted her every crack and fissure.

Draco waved his hand in dismissal. “No... Don’t be sorry. There’s no reason.”

Ginny nodded her head, not quite sure what to believe anymore. He was acting off and the only thing she could attribute it to was his newfound knowledge.

Draco sighed and ran an agitated hand through his loose blond hair. Before he realized what his mouth was doing... he was speaking to her. He told her about his encounter with Zabini, and the several that followed as he had made it through the rest of his daily activities. How everything had changed in his House. The anger and hate that resonated from the damp stone walls.

Ginny listened quietly, at first amazed that he was opening up to her. Throughout their fledgling friendship Ginny had always felt the taker; Draco had always kept his thoughts, his worries just that... his. She had never pressed him on the issue. After all, this was Draco, there was little one could make him do if he had decided against it. Yet he had chosen to reveal his thoughts to her, to give and to take.

He remained facing the lake, the wind whipping though his gilt locks. He’d stopped speaking as Ginny came up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against the strong length of his back.

Draco stiffened briefly, but the warmth of her embrace and the sincerity behind it relaxed his rigid form. She didn’t offer any advice, he knew there was nothing she could say. His breathing slowed, he hadn’t realized how merely sharing his thoughts would make him feel. It worried him... the relief and lightness in his soul scared him. He could become addicted.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered against the soft folds of fabric covering his back. She could feel the soft rise and fall of his body beneath her cheek; she could feel the slight hitch in his breath as her words registered. “I wish there was something I could do, something I could say to help...”

Draco stilled her speech with one simple word. “Gin.”

She felt the vibration of his speech rumble through his body. She closed her eyes as he began to speak.

“You don’t need to do anything. Shockingly enough, having you listen was apparently all I needed. I think you know exactly how that feels.”

Ginny’s eyes fluttered open, she nodded her head slowly. “Yes... I do. Rather therapeutic, isn’t it?” she softly replied, one corner of her mouth quirked in a smile.

To his own surprise, Draco found himself smiling. “It is... oh wise one.” He smirked as he turned around. He brushed a strand of her hair away from her forehead. “Thanks.”

The other corner of Ginny’s mouth lifted to form a full smile. She shook her head as if to dismiss his thanks, but found her chin stilled by long aristocratic fingers.

There was a moment of silence. The world around them stilled. Ginny faintly recognized that she was no longer breathing, she couldn’t place why. Perhaps it was the intense light from Draco’s eyes, or the way his lip was lightly curled. Perhaps it was the way the wind slightly ruffled his hair, or the strength he exuded when he held her. Whatever it was she couldn’t, and wasn’t sure if she wanted to, break the hold between them.

Draco continued to hold her gaze. The air fairly crackled between them. He should walk away; he should certainly drop her chin. The arguments for his withdrawal fought to be heard, but the rush of wind drowned them out.

His eyes fell on small white teeth as Ginny worried on her lower lip.

What the bloody hell was going on? Draco’s brain wanted to shout. This was Ginny Weasley... absolutely no reason to be watching her soft pink lip, being drawn into her mouth. What sort of cad was he? To be thinking anything remotely lustful over a Weasley not to mention a Weasley that had just shared a horrific story of her abuse and rape with him the previous evening.

It was that memory that finally tore Draco’s gaze back to Ginny’s eyes. He chucked her chin slightly. “Come on. It’s getting late, let’s get back inside.”

Ginny’s eyes refocused at the sound of his deep voice. “Oh! Yes... yes, it is getting late. Merlin knows with class tomorrow I should get some sleep.”

Draco laughed. “Sleep won’t help with Snape’s class, and you very well know it.”

Ginny groaned... “Oh, I know!”

***

As the redheaded Gryffindor and the blond Slytherin slowly headed back to the castle, a lone figure rested against a tree some distance from where the pair had stood. The individual’s breathing resumed, rapid and labored after being held so long and from the excitement of such a find.

As the shock of seeing the two together so familiarly subsided, the figure began to think, to calculate the value of this new-found information. Merlin! Malfoy and Weasley... This would be welcome news. Perhaps this information would grant the relief sought.

20. Things Change

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters and in fact I shouldn't even be allowed to write about them considering how long it took this chapter to get out

Chapter 19: Things Change

A week went by and then another. Students fell into the familiar pace of classes and tests. Hogsmeade weekends came and went with smiling children piling down into the small village.

A cozy fire blazed from the fireplace in the Three Broomsticks. Ron and Hermione sat a round table; three butterbeers sat dripping with condensation.

"How long did he say he would be gone?" Ron asked idly as he swirled the amber liquid around in his frosted mug.

Hermione swung her head away from the crackling flames. "Hmm... Oh Harry! He said just a few minutes. He needed to send an owl off or something of the like." She nodded as she ran her finger over the rim of her cup.

Ron looked at Hermione, really looked at her for the first time in weeks. Her eyes were weary, he’d almost say red-rimmed. She looked as though a strong wind would blow her over at any moment. He furrowed his brow and looked back down at his drink.

He didn’t know how things had gotten to be like this. Their relationship had always been about fire and sparks; now they barely even spoke let alone argued. He knew the change had come about as soon as Hermione had started dating Harry. It was to be expected he thought. After all hadn’t the majority to their relationship been childish flirting, getting a rise out of the other just to see their cheeks flush and their eyes flash. But they had parted ways, Ron with Lavender briefly and Hermione with Harry. Now they sat here, seemingly strangers.

He raised his head and looked over at Hermione. "Are you okay, Hermione?" He asked quietly, not sure what kind of answer he would receive.

Her immediate reaction was to smile and assure Ron that she was fine - which she did. Ron nodded his head, seemingly resigned to accept her placating response, as if that were what he was accustomed to receiving from her.

Something slipped in Hermione; she supposed it was her resolve. She couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t be the perfect girl that she strove to be. She couldn’t push Ron away anymore. She couldn’t hide behind the unflappable exterior that she had built up over the years.

"No..." She finally murmured into her drink. "No, I’m not alright." She closed her eyes. Ginny’s back retreating slowly up the stairs seemed burned into her eyelids. Hermione’s eyes flew open. She couldn’t stomach what she had done. How could she have been so selfish, how could she have tried to make it all better with such a half-hearted attempt? A numbness settled over her. She supposed this was what it felt like to truly muck a situation up. This wasn’t a situation that her intelligence could logically argue its way out of... and it scared her.

Ron’s eyes were on hers, the corners etched in worry. Merlin she missed him. How could she have let him slip away... her mind briefly mused. She knew that she had looked into Harry’s worry-worn eyes and saw something she could fix, something that she could unquestionably solve. It was a logical conclusion to share her love with him, to help him heal. She’d always loved him. But was it the love that he needed or she needed for that matter.

"Hermione?" Ron asked. "What is it?" All the blood seemed to have drained from her face over the space of a few moments. He scooted his chair closer afraid that she would faint.

It was a mistake to let her mind begin down this path. But then again, she seemed to be doing that quite a lot lately. She was sick of feeling numb, sick of wondering what could have been.

"I... Ron... I..." She hung her head, unable to articulate (for perhaps the first time in her life) what she was feeling.

A corner of Ron’s mouth pulled down in consternation. It wasn’t like Hermione to be unable to find the words - that was typically his department. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she started.

Hermione stopped thinking. She pushed thoughts of Harry, her mum, and Ginny from her mind. She wanted to act and feel - not think! Resolved to do just that. Murmuring "I want to make a mistake," Before she leaned forward and placed her lips on Ron’s.

Ron had been momentarily distracted by her small uttered comment. He hadn’t caught all of it and had opened his mouth to ask her to repeat it, when her mouth had closed over his.

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the year. But to say that he didn’t want to continue to feel the warm pressure of her lips or the soft sweep of her tongue would be a lie and he knew it. He felt Hermione’s hand creep up and around his neck, her small fingers curled into his red hair as a small murmur of pleasure escaped her lips.

He needed to pull away, but he couldn’t seem to remember why. Harry! Yes, that was it! This was his best mate’s girlfriend and his best friend, they couldn’t do this... in a public place no less.

Ron was saved from having to pry his lips from hers by a discreet cough. Hermione flew back, a flush covering her entire face.

There was silence for a moment as Ron raised his head to see how had caught them. He didn’t know what he would say to the observer, he only hoped it was a regular patron of the restaurant not a student.

"I suppose I’m no longer needed here..." The voice sent Ron’s heart plummeting into the farthest reaches of his stomach.

"Har..." Ron’s head fell. What did one say in such a situation?

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t thought kissing Ron would feel as it had. Every spark that they had ever had while arguing culminated in that kiss. She could feel her lips, hot and swollen. She could also feel Harry’s gaze intent on her. What had she just done? She hadn’t intended Harry to see... she had just wanted a moment... a moment to see what existed.

"Harry!" She exclaimed a note of hysteria in her voice.

Harry raised his hand as if to ward off an invisible blow. "Don’t... Not now... I’m... I’m going back up to school now." He quickly downed the glass of butterbeer that had patiently been waiting his arrival and turned quickly, resolutely leaving the small room.

Hermione dropped her head into her hands and let a sob escape her lips. Ron leaned back in his chair, his eyes hooded as he contemplated what had just happened.

**********

Draco rested his arm against the stone door jamb as Ginny packed up her small book bag. He’d loaned her his potions notes from the year before with a smirk and a reminder that he was the only one to get higher marks than Granger in that subject.

He hated this part of the evening: the part where they went back to their respective dorms, the part where they didn’t see each other and the part where he remembered the complications of the outside world.

Ginny stood up and smoothed her robes down as she slung her pack over one shoulder. She looked around the deserted classroom that she had been coming to nightly for several weeks. Despite its dank walls and dusty desktops it was cozier than the Gryffindor common room at the moment. But, she mused, that probably had more to do with the company than the accoutrements.

"I’ll see you tomorrow right?" He always asked even though he knew the answer; it was part of their routine.

"Of course. Rumor has it that Flitwick is going to assign a nasty essay so be prepared to listen to my griping."

Draco groaned. "I thought you got that out of your system today with the potions assignment."

"Nope. I’m afraid you aren’t that lucky. It’s never-ending fun with me." She smirked over at him as she moved toward the door where he stood.

Draco straightened as she prepared to leave. The owl he’d received last week weighed heavily on his mind. This time the missive had informed him that he had been seen with a red haired Weasley near the lake and that if he didn’t wise-up he could expect consequences.

Draco reached out an arm to still Ginny. "Please, be careful." He’d had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach all week. "You’re going straight to the tower right?"

Ginny furrowed her brow. He’d been off all week, extraordinarily concerned about her safety. "Of course... what’s wrong Draco?"

He shook off her question. "Nothing, just make sure you head straight up." He closed off the worry that had crept into his eyes as he held the door open with one arm.

"Yes sir." She mocked him with a salute.

Draco couldn’t help but smile back at her. He knew that she wasn’t nearly as lighthearted as she used to be, so moments such as this were an achievement that he couldn’t help but feel proud over.

"Glad to see you’ve finally come around,"" he answered with a smirk.

Ginny thawpped him on the arm as the exited the old Potions classroom. "See you tomorrow!" She called over her shoulder as she headed down the damp stone corridor.

Draco shook his head as he turned and made his way to the Slytherin dormitories.

Ginny pulled herself up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower; a small smile still graced her features as she thought about the snarky blonde boy she had just departed ways with. She tried not to think too much on their relationship; instead she accepted what she had and didn’t question the possibilities.

With her head tucked down she didn’t see the figure that rounded the corner at the top of the staircase at the same time she did.

As she toppled back toward the staircase, she felt someone’s arms save her from Merlin knows how many broken bones.

"Ginny!" Harry exclaimed as he pulled her from the edge of the staircase. "I’m sorry! I didn’t see you coming ‘round the corner."

Ginny slowly opened her eyes, thankful that someone had been there to catch her. She blinked as she caught sight of her rescuer. "Harry?" she asked softly. He looked horrid! His hair was disheveled as if he has spent the better part of the day running agitated fingers through the dark locks. His eyes were tired, she could almost say red-rimmed, and his cheeks were gaunt.

"I’m fine... But, Harry... are you okay?" She asked pointedly as she eyed him.

Harry’s arms fell away from her sides and he looked away. "I’m fine. What are you doing out so late?" he asked sharply, quickly changing the topic.

"I was studying," Ginny responded her eyes narrowed at his tone.

"On a Saturday night?" he countered. He knew that he was being inflammatory with no good reason. He was angry at the world at the moment and unfortunately Ginny had happened upon him. Chances are she had been with Draco... Harry didn’t know what their relationship was about. He didn’t feel the way Ron did.... but... who was he to say. People were surprising as he had learned the hard way earlier that afternoon.

"Yes..." Ginny bit out. "What are you doing wandering the halls of the school on a Saturday night... wasn’t it a Hogsmeade weekend anyway." Ginny cocked her head to the side slightly as she caught the scent of hard liquor wafting off Harry. "Is that Firewhiskey I smell Harry?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "So what if it is?" He turned away from her quickly. "I have a right to get pissed if I want don’t I?"

"Of course Harry." Ginny’s brow wrinkled further. "Any particular reason?"

"Your bloody brother and my girlfriend... I thought that reason enough."

Harry wandered over to a small bench that rested underneath a portrait of two toothless wizards. "Ginny... I should have saved you... you always loved me didn’t you?" Harry asked tipsily.

Ginny gasped at his rambling, but Harry continued before she could say anything.

"I always knew you liked me... but you were Ron’s little sister. Hermione was my closest friend and she always told me she loved me. I think she was the first person to actually say that to me. But I guess that wasn’t true now was it. I always wondered if she still had a thing for Ron... I was right." Harry raised his eyes to hers, they were watery now. "D’you think we could give it a go now? I don’t want to be alone again."

Ginny was torn by pity and anger. It was hard to watch Harry like this. She knew most of his speech was attributable to the whiskey... but from the sound of it something had happened between Hermione and him this afternoon. On the other hand, she couldn’t believe that he was saying this to her... how could he think that she would simply run into his arms because he sought her attention now. After everything that had happened... she honestly couldn’t believe it.

"Harry... Get into the common room. You should sleep this off." Ginny stayed where he had left her and indicated with her head toward the portrait of the fat lady down the hall.

"C’mon Ginny... I don’t want to go back in there. They’re probably in there... Merlin knows she’ll want to talk it out or some such rubbish... and at the moment I just don’t feel like it." Harry stood up again and approached her, a lop-sided grin on his face.

"I’ll go in, if you’ll join me?"

"Harry Potter!" Ginny hissed. "Absolutely not! Now get your drunken arse inside." She’d seen her brothers drunk often enough to know how to deal with one pissed, randy boy.

"But..." He whined. "Hermione was kissing Ron in the Three Broomsticks. I can’t see them right now."

Ginny sighed. It was as she thought. She knew Ron had never gotten over his crush on their bushy haired friend, but she was a bit surprised at this turn of events.

"Harry... just go to bed and it will all look differently in the morning. I promise."

Harry leaned forward. "You’ll still be just as beautiful won’t you?"

"Harry! Stop it and get inside." Ginny grabbed the crook of his arm and pulled him toward the portrait. She uttered the password Hogwarts, a History and the fat lady opened the entry with a disapproving cluck at Harry.

"Ginny!" Harry resisted. He pulled her back towards him as she stepped inside. Surprised, she fell into his arms. He laid a sloppy kiss on what he probably intended to be her lips, but ended up half on her cheek.

A gasp from inside filled Ginny’s ears. "Harry!" came Hermione’s voice followed by "Ginny!" from Ron.

Ginny struggled from Harry’s grasp. She felt her skin crawl with his touch... she hated being held, his grip on her upper arms burned. Harry’s hands fell slack as the voices of Ron and Hermione came to his ears.

He stared dumbly down at Ginny, suddenly more sober than he had been in his entire life. "I... I’m sorry Ginny!" He hung his head. "I don’t know what I was thinking." "Don’t worry about it Harry..." Ginny backed away from Harry her arms crossing over her chest. She could feel Ron’s eyes on her, as well as Hermione’s. She felt anger well up in her chest. What in the hell had he been thinking?

"Ginny?" Hermione questioned quietly. Ron wouldn’t speak; he merely stared at her...

With a slow shake of her head Ginny backed away. With one last look at the three pairs of eyes glued to her she turned her head and fled from the hallway.

The stone steps flew by underneath her feet. She hadn’t a location in mind but she found each level she descended growing darker and the stone damper. Gasping for breath she stood outside the Slytherin common room... or rather what she expected was the entrance to the common room.

Ginny was doubled over; catching her breath when the portal opened and a dark-haired girl stepped through, a scowl on her face. Ginny raised her head as she clasped the stitch in her side.

Millicent’s eyes grew round. "The girl Weasley? What are you doing here?" She snapped.

Ginny shook her head, her eyes wild.

"Do they not teach you to speak in Gryffindor?" Millicent questioned her head tilted to the side; she’d never seen a Gryff venture down to their neck of the castle and certainly not in the state Ginny Weasley was in.

"I... I... need..." Ginny gasped for a moment, not sure how to approach this situation. Obviously this was not a well thought out plan.

"You need something..." Millicent’s eyebrow quirked up. "...and why on earth would I help you?" She questioned softly.

Ginny was saved from answering by the appearance of yet another Slytherin, Blaise Zabini. Ginny groaned could this get any worse.

"Oi! Mils where you off to?" He shouted as he bounded over to where Millicent stood in the opening. He paused abruptly behind Ginny and raised an eyebrow as well. It must be a Slytherin trait, Ginny mused grumpily. "Well what do we have here? Lost?"

Millicent turned to Blaise. "Apparently she’s mute as well as lost... Haven’t gotten anything out of her."

Blaise smiled at Millicent. "Aren’t very smart in that house are they... hopefully Wes will be the exception." Millicent’s face which had tightened imperceptibly, relaxed into a grin.

"Of course he will!" She jabbed him in the shoulder, Ginny’s presence forgotten for a moment.

"Given that established fact, what do we do with this one?" Blaise inclined his head toward Ginny who was attempting to peer over his shoulder into the common room.

The soft fall of footsteps on the stone floor stilled all their actions. "I think I can handle this...." A lazy drawl interrupted the moment of silence.

Blaise turned his head toward Draco and then back to Ginny, blinking several times at the expression she was valiantly trying to hold back.

"Of course... as Head Boy I’d expect no less." Blaise smoothly interjected. "Let’s go Millie, I know you were going to sneak cookies up to him, I’ll help." Millicent narrowed her eyes as she looked between Draco and Blaise then to Ginny. She nodded her agreement, joining Blaise down the hallway.

Ginny raised her eyes; the space between them seemed infinite and unfathomable. He watched her silently, a light of question in his silver eyes. "I don’t suppose I need to say that I didn’t expect to see you here?"

His voice bridged the chasm and her body found its motion. In three short steps her arms were flung around his neck and her cheek pressed into his crisp white button-down. His arms instinctively closed around her back, despite his confusion.

"What happened?" He whispered into her hair, breathing in the smell that was definitively Ginny Weasley, a mix of vanilla and warmth.

She shook her head against his chest, remaining silent. He looked around for a moment determining the best course of events. "Come on." He tucked his arms around her back and led her to a suit of armor just down from the Common room entrance. He whispered the password so low that she couldn’t make out the words and the armor moved aside to grant them entrance.

Ginny had kept her face pressed to his chest as he maneuvered her toward what appeared to be his room. The door shut quietly and the crackle of the fireplace was the only sound in the room. Draco placed his hand on her other shoulder and turned her toward him.

"Now will you tell me what happened?" He stared down at her. The corners of his eyes were crinkled slightly, an expression that only occurred when he was concerned. She stared up at him for an indefinable moment, letting the mercury warmth of his eyes soothe her soul and erase the past for minutes.

She gnawed at her lower lip for a moment, as if in indecision. He watched her closely. The confusion in her eyes was slowly being replaced by something new... a look of wildness.

"Ginny?" He questioned softly.

Any response that he could have hoped for was quashed by the surprising pressure of her lips on his. Draco’s eyes widened. Her lips were soft and pliant, just as he had imagined... he shook that thought from his mind ruefully and pulled back sharply, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"What are you doing?"

Ginny stared up at him and blinked several times. "I wanted to see if I would always hate it..." She murmured.

His eyes softened at the corners. He brushed a lock of hair off her forehead.

"Harry tried to kiss me tonight... he was pissed..."

Draco’s eyes darkened at her words. "What the fuck did he think he was doing?"

Ginny shh’ed him and placed a finger on his lips. "He didn’t realize what he was doing. It... It scared me and disgusted me. The only thing I could think of was to find you. I don’t know what that means." Her eyes were solemn as she stared up at him.

He cupped her cheek with one hand. "Did you hate it?" He asked quietly.

Her eyes never left his as she shook her head. "No... No I didn’t hate it."

Gray eyes melted into molten silver and his hands tightened on her shoulders. Ginny moved a step closer to him, the hems of her robes brushed against his body. "You don’t scare me..." She smiled cheekily up at him, her earlier fear having disappeared.

"Ginny..." her name slipped from his lips. "Are you sure?"

She barely had time to nod in the affirmative before his lips crashed down on hers. His arms slid down from her shoulders and banded around her back as his tongue traced the seam of her lips. A soft sound of pleasure slipped from her lips as she opened her mouth.

Draco hadn’t let him think about what this moment would be like or even if there would be such a moment. He would have felt the biggest cad in the world to have pushed anything of this sort. But he knew he could never have done it justice had he tried.

It was a whole new feeling. Granted she had kissed Michael Corner when they had dated, but that had been the small pecks of a young relationship... this was entirely different. It seemed to wipe every memory of those previous experiences from her mind. She was able to forget the chilling touch of his hands on her skin as the soft weight of Draco’s hands on her back swept away the memories.

She pulled her head back finally, her breathing heavy. Her hand lifted up to cup his cheek and her eyes locked with his. "I’m quite sure. How about you?"

A grin curled up on one corner of his mouth. "Positive." He turned his face and kissed the palm of her hand. He instantly regretted the words, it was impossible right now. He couldn’t pull her into whatever danger it was that continued to haunt him. "But... I can’t."

Ginny’s brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?" she asked softly.

Draco was silent... he stared down at her upturned features, his expression grim. He had two choices... to lie and just say he didn’t want that sort of relationship with her. It would be cruel, but she would be safe. Or... he could tell her the truth. He warred with himself for several moments. He wanted nothing else to protect her, he didn’t question the desire anymore... it was what he felt and for once he wouldn’t ignore the desire.

"I just can’t..." He started lamely. Her warm brown eyes locked with his and he felt a plummeting sensation in his stomach. He closed his eyes, he had to protect her. "We can’t be together... it wouldn’t work," he finished vaguely.

Ginny’s entire body stiffened. She turned to walk away. She longed for some sort of retort to spring from her lips, but nothing came to mind nor fit the situation.

He opened his eyes and immediately saw that she had moved away. A wave of regret washed through him.

"Gin!" he called out whirling to where she had begun to head off.

She spun back to him, her eyes haunted. She opened her mouth several times, finally a single word made its way past her lips. "Liar..."

Draco rapidly strode forward to where she stood still. "Yes... Yes I am." Her features flickered at his response. "There is nothing I want more," he whispered softly.

She raised her chin. "Then tell me why you just said you couldn’t."

"You," his statement seemed final and served to only confuse her more. Sighing he raked a hand through his hair. He couldn’t lie to her, her eyes saw all too much in him. "I don’t want you to get hurt," he started slowly.

Ginny scowled up at him, her face darkening with anger. "You don’t think I can protect myself do you? Do you really think so little of me?" Her emotions boiled over resulting in an eruption of the famous Weasley temper.

"No," Draco stilled her with a touch of his hand to her shoulder. "I mean that it’s not over for me... there are people out there who do not approve of my actions and somehow... they know about my connection with you."

He raked a hand through his hair. "They threatened YOU." His brow had come together in anger and his eyes darkened. Ginny’s expression softened at his heated response. She raised her own hand and cupped his cheek.

"It’s okay... They won’t hurt me." Her eyes were soft as she gazed up at him. His words meant more to her than he could possibly know. It struck a certain cord in her that she was his sole concern, that he had an overarching desire to protect her... and her alone.

She reached up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, lingering for a mere moment. "No one needs to know..." An impish grin lit her eyes as she wound her arms around his neck and her lips once again met his.

*********************

AN: I want to thank everyone who has stuck with this never-ending story especially after this hiatus that I seem to have taken from the story. It wasn't my intention, but I had a summer study abroad session in London that managed to eat up my time and access to the internet. There are only a few chapters left and I hope to get them out in a much more timely manner *fingers crossed*

HUGE THANKS to my beta clanmalfoy *glomps her*