Redemption
Revelations
The day I returned to England was a very cold day indeed. However the weather had nothing to do with it…
"Can you believe he has the nerve?" an older witch whispered throwing a disdainful look in my direction.
I gave a small self-decrypting smile.
"You know how those Malfoy's are, believe they own the whole bloody world," her husband replied in the same haughty tone. "Just ignore him dear, he'll go away."
My low chuckled brought both of their gazes to my face, and my arched brow brought a small `humph' from the mouth of the lady and a glare from her husband.
"Good day," I said in a low tone, unable to resist a bit of goading.
The man's bushy mustache twitched a bit under his overly large nose as he gave a small sniff of dissatisfaction. He then grabbed his wife's gloved hand and began pulling her towards the other end of the store. The woman looked at me through too large bangs, her curly brown hair teased in a way that made it resemble a helmet and looking just as hard. Her pointy nose shifted back and forth like a rabbit or a mouse before she snapped her head in the direction that her husband was leading her and followed him away. I scoffed lightly and rolled my eyes at the appraising look that she flicked over my lean form before turning to walk away… obviously I wasn't good enough for conversation but was perfect for a fantasy or two.
Giving a rueful shake of the head and a crooked smirk that had been perfected since my youth to another couple who had watched the scene with a mix of curiosity and distain I took my small basket up to the front of the market to pay for my groceries. I really had expected no less upon my return and I knew the worse was still yet to come. Like other former Death Eaters and their families mine was destined to live on the outskirts of the London wizarding community possibly for many generations to come. However unlike the families of the others I had earned a reputation that pulled a certain amount of hate in it's own right. That reputation was not only as the long time rival and enemy of the hero of the Wizarding world, but also as something much worse. In the years since the war a lot of the happenings of Hogwarts surfaced and made their rounds though the community though rumors, word of mouth and even articles. One such article "The Malfoy Ministrations" talked of my assistance to the Dark Lord my sixth year at Hogwarts and the part I played in the death of the much loved former Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.
Shaking my head lightly I gave a small smile to the young witch behind the counter, her curious gaze flicked over my face before wandering to my broad shoulders. After a moment her eyes came back to mine a flirtations twinkle shining though. I laughed to myself, obviously appearance and money won out over rumors and caution. Either that or she fancied a go at the bad boy. Going into my wallet I pulled out the correct amount of galleons to pay for my purchase and then a few extra as a tip.
"Oh sir, you gave me to much. It's only-"
She was cut off when I placed a finger to my lips "It's my pleasure," I informed her with a small wink.
She blushed prettily before grabbing my receipt and handing it to me. "Come back anytime," she said in a huskier tone than the one she had used mere moments before.
"Of course…" I my gaze flicked to her nametag "Amber… that would also be my pleasure." At that I took the receipt from her fingers, making sure to brush them with my own in the process, grabbed my bags, turned and walked out.
As I made it to the door I looked down at the receipt not at all surprised to see her name and floo information written on the small piece of parchment. Giving another light chuckle and a miniscule nod to a man who was standing near the door glowering at me I headed out into the warm summer heat.
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I know what is expected of me… what everyone anticipates, and I think in a way, wants to see. In their heart of hearts they know that it will be only a matter of time before I began to reach out to Death Eaters, the ones who are still at large and the new class that exist underground. They're sure that I cannot change my ways and why would I? I mean though we did lose a lot here in England, we more than made up for it after the war. Once everything was resolved in terms of the information that my father could offer to assist with the capture of some of the other Death Eaters, he along with several of his counterparts took their families and went on self imposed exile to the United States. It was hard to get use to at first, the change in culture. However, we soon found an excellent wizarding community in the California area, with their own shops and neighborhoods. I was enrolled in a wizarding school that they had there to finish out my last year, and though it was pretty new by our standards, only two hundred or so years old. It was still a pretty advanced school with an excellent curriculum. Nonetheless, no matter how much popularity I found or how many "friends" I gained… well, not to sound cliché or muggle but `There's no place like home.'
That's right muggle… it is a word I use now with startling regularity. Though I will admit occasionally the other word slips, however you can't undo seventeen years of training in five so…
My father, as brilliant and manipulative as ever, only took a couple of months to find himself a niche in the American society and only took a little over a year to make himself invaluable to all associated with him. He was back on top… I guess we were back on top, but I could not find happiness. When I told my parents of my plan to returned to England my father called me a fool… then he called my mother a medi-witch because she had fainted dead away. Once she was revived and seated -just in case, I re-informed them both of my decision and after a highly charged emotional three-hour argument with my father I began to make preparations for my departure.
Though I don't agree with my fathers opinions and views on me coming back to England I understand his concerns. You see there is a very large risk in my return. The Malfoy's have the distinct pleasure of being hated pretty much across the board. Most of the wizarding community abhors us for our work with the Dark Lord, while the darker wizarding community loathes us for our work against him and our own kind. Getting out of England was not a choice for my father it was a necessity, so for me to willingly return is so far out of his comprehension that I doubt he will ever understand.
My mother cried every day from the moment I told her until two weeks later when she alone went with me to the airport to board my plane, in fact she's probably still crying. And even though my father didn't come my mother stuffed a checkbook in my hand that was connected to an account that he had set up with ample funds for me to use to live AND to buy a plane ticket back when I came to my senses. Giving her a small smile and a long hug I boarded the plane and returned to my home country.
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My eyes ran over the beautiful spacious flat that had I found out about when I went to the muggle bank to withdraw pounds for conversion to wizarding funds. My mother had outdone herself, I knew it was her. The bold reds and soft creams could be attributed to her sense of style. Laughing softly and with a brush of my wand I changed the creams to a mixture of black and silver the reds to a deep forest green before plopping down onto the plush couch. I had tried it her way for a week I think that's about as much as could be asked of me, but red had never been high on my list of favorite colours. However it was high on my list of most disliked, for obvious reasons.
Running a hand though my hair I gave a rueful shake of the head and looked reflectively at the fire as my mind contemplated what exactly it was I was going to do with my life.
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It happened on one of those days. You know those days, when the sun is out in the sky but the clouds cover it just so that you don't get burned. And when the breeze flutters along carrying faint sounds and sweet smells of food from nearby vendors selling their candies and treats for the children. I was sitting on a bench in a muggle park, I forget the name, when I saw her. She had dark brown hair that fell into soft curls and were pulled away from her face with a pink ribbon. She was wearing a pink dress with little frills and large white poka-dots on it along with some white knee high stockings and pretty pink shoes with tiny heels. She was no more than five years old and utterly adorable as she stared at the pink balloon in wonder. She gave a joys giggle when her mum purchased it for her, her eyes lighting up excitedly as the string was transferred to her tiny hands and skipping merrily away from her mother who kept calling her in an attempt to get her to wait, while she gave the correct amount of money to the vendor.
"Abigail!" the brown haired woman with curls much like her daughter called out as she quickly accepted her change. "Abigail Elizabeth James, you get back here right now!"
The tiny nymph halted mid skip, turning to dazzle her mum with her most innocent smile, however as she did so an unexpected gust of wind cropped up. Her unbound hair flew into her tiny face and when her hands shot up to push it back the balloon was released from its less that stable confounds and floated merrily along with the wind. A wail of dismay escaped the little girls lips as her perfect pink balloon sailed away into the word.
I don't know what made me did it, if it was the attempts, in vain, by both her mother and the vendor to retrieve the item as it floated past. Or the large crocodile tears that ran down tiny Abigail's flushed face, but whatever it was it had me discretely retrieve my wand. Uttering a low levitation spell I got the balloon under my control and using a rough uneven path in an attempt to make it seem as though it were floating with the wind I deposited the it under a nearby awning and well within reach of her frantic mother.
As the woman released a relieved sigh and returned the balloon to her daughter, this time tying it securely around her small wrist I gave a subtle smile. The sense of satisfaction and of self that flowed though me were wholly unexpected but completely welcome. It was then that I knew what I had to do… I had to redeem myself and my family for the deeds that we had done and the pain that we had caused. I had to make up for every derogatory remark and every distasteful action committed by not only myself but my father. I had to do this for me, not for the wizarding world but for my piece of mind for my soul… and I had to do it one muggle at a time.
A.N. Well that's it for the prologue. Please Review and let me know what you think!!! This is my first Ginny/Draco story and I have a bit of a dilemma. My Beta HATES Draco Malfoy so I am betaless for this fic. If you would like to Beta this story as well as any future D/G stories please post that in your review as well as contact info in your review and I'll get back to you. My main areas that I need assistance with are punctuation, catching grammar things like mixing words (ie - from instead of form) and Briticisms. Thanks for checking out the fic and until I find a beta then I hope you guys can bear with me submitting beta-less chappys I promise my grammar isn't so bad.
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