Last Love

MemoriesFade

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 7
Published: 28/01/2010
Last Updated: 28/01/2010
Status: completed

One line, visible only to one man, was etched beneath the engraving. "Wherever I am, there you are also."

Chapters

1. Last Love

1. Last Love

Author's Notes: Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Harry Potter Universe.

I wrote this while listening to It's So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday by Boys II Men.

It started out as it was at Hogwarts. I teased her mercilessly about her family. Granted, it was a different family now. Rather than teasing her about her brothers, I teased her about her husband and unruly children. She fought back just as hard, making fun of the way I combed my hair, my cold wife, and my spoiled son. Some days, she would take my harsh comments and simply laugh. On some days, though, her face would fall and she would dismiss me from her room, not that her dismissal mattered to me. I stayed in her room despite her protests otherwise. It irked her more, to see me there and know that I was watching her walls breakdown. I don’t know why she stayed and took my abuse. She could have just as easily switched to a different Healer. I suspect it was because I am the best at what I do. It’s the only reason I can think of that would make her stay and endure my hateful words.

After a while though, things changed. While it was happening, I didn’t know when things had changed. But now, looking back, thinking of her, I know.

“Malfoy, I must say, you look as pasty faced as always,” she said cheerily.

I couldn’t meet her eye, not knowing what I knew. “Good morning, Mrs. Potter.”

“What’s wrong?” Her face was blank as she heard my response to her greeting.

“I have your test results,” I said solemnly.

“I take it you have bad news, Malfoy?” she asked. “You can tell me. I promise there will be no tears.”

“It seems that the more we try and remove the effects of the curse, the worst your condition gets,” I explained. “I also believe I figured out why Bellatrix’s curse took so long to come into effect.”

“Do share,” she said dryly.

“She was my aunt. It isn’t something I’m proud of but I do have an insight into the workings of her mind.” I grimaced at the thought of my aunt, at the things she had done in her life. “Bellatrix reveled in being able to cause as much pain as she possibly could. Cursing you was, more than likely, her backup plan in case she died. She must have wanted to inflict pain from her grave.”

Ginny nodded. “She was a very deranged individual. How long do I have?”

“If you stay here, one to two months,” I replied. “If you leave, I can only guarantee you a month unless you have private care.”

“I can’t stay here.” Ginny shook her head. “I have to leave.”

“Private care is expensive, Mrs. Potter,” I said. Potter had his money. But I doubt he had enough money for this. “And if you leave without private care, you’ll only have a month.”

“A month is all I need,” she said, smiling serenely.

I stared at her in disbelief. I had just told her the worst news of her life and she was smiling. I had never met anyone like her before. She always smiled. Even after the many times we drew blood, tested her, poked and prodded her with our wands, and tried different treatment methods on her, she smiled. It unnerved me in so many ways. I taunted her in order to get that smile off her face. I didn’t like to see her so happy while she laid in a hospital bed, her face as pale as the white pillow it rested on. It was the reason I made fun of her friends and her family. I wanted her to show the pain she felt on the inside, on the outside. Even if she was miserable because of what I was saying and not her situation, I just liked to see her miserable.

“You can’t be serious,” I said, not knowing why I even cared.

“I am.” She waved her hand around my room. “This isn’t where I want to spend the last moments of my life. I don’t want to hear the slowing of my heart as I die. I don’t want needles stuck in my arms anymore. I want to be free.”

I understood her need for freedom. I had battled that same fight my entire life. It may have been the reason why I volunteered to be her private Healer. She steadfastly refused. But I just couldn’t let her go. Seeing her there, that smile on her face, I couldn’t let her shorten her life. I managed to work her down with the help of Potter. It annoyed me that I had to turn to Potter for help. But it was his wife I was attempting to help. I figured he could be of some help. So, he helped me. And she acquiesced to me visiting her once a day to check her health. I would only stay for an hour at the most, nothing more.

At least, that is how it started. Soon, I was spending more time there.

I tapped my wand to the vial of her blood, watching different colors float out of the deep red liquid. “It looks to be in order.”

“Still dying then?” she asked.

I didn’t answer. She asked me but I never answered. I couldn’t. The more time I spent with her, the more time I got to know her, the harder it was to acknowledge she was dying. I was known as the miracle worker. I healed those with spell damage through my extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts. I was taught by Death Eaters. I knew the spells they used. So, I spent my time studying the spells, the movements, the words, and developing counter curses. That wasn’t what was needed all the time, though. Sometimes, like in the case of the Longbottoms, new spells needed to be made, more time needed to be spent. But I spent the time. I healed them, my gift to Longbottom for what my aunt did to his parents.

“Are you alright?”

I snapped out of my thoughts. “What?”

“You had a dazed look just then,” she murmured softly, her eyes drifting to where her children, nieces and nephews played.

We were at their home, a quaint house in Godric’s Hollow, sitting out on the back porch and watching the day go by. Her kids were home from Hogwarts, spending as much time as they possibly could with their mother. Ginny said they knew what was happening to her. They had to. I was around so often it would be hard to hide the fact that she was sick. They took it well enough. Every once in awhile, I would come to the home to find one of them crying or I would leave a room and find them huddled in a corner, awaiting the news of their mother’s health. I couldn’t deny the toughness of the situation. And slowly, as I spent more time around her family, I felt more and more sorry for them. I found myself doing simple things like speaking kindly to her brothers when I saw them.

“Draco,” she called. She smiled at me, wrapping her blanket tighter around her upper arms. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“You’re the only sick one here,” I said softly.

She patted the chair next to her. “Have a seat. No need to run off as if a Hippogriff is chasing you.”

“Very funny,” I drawled, glowering at her. I did sit, though, noticing how she seemed to shiver despite the fact that it was summer and she had a blanket. “Your body temperature is not normal I see.”

“Every now and again I get the chills,” she said offhandedly. “It isn’t a big deal.”

“What about pain? Are you in any?” I asked.

“I’m achy.” She shrugged. “I can deal with it.”

“I don’t understand how you can be so cavalier about dying.” I sat back, truly astonished by her behavior.

“What sense does it make to mope around? I’m dying and there isn’t a thing I can do about it.” A smile graced her face as her youngest, Lily, shoved her oldest, James, into the pond. “How can I be sad with those kids around and enjoying their lives?”

“But you’ll miss them. You’ll miss their birthdays, their weddings, grandchildren,” I exclaimed. It unnerved me how she reacted to her death. It was as if she didn’t care.

“I will,” she admitted quietly. “But at least I got to see them. I got to teach them the more important things about life. I gave them the foundation of ethics and morals that they will continue to build upon. I can sit here and be depressed about the fact that I will never see my boys grow into men and the fact that I won’t see Lily fall in love. Or, I can think back on all the good times I had with them, and of all the things I did experience with them, their first words, their first steps, the first time they flew on a broom. Yes, I will miss major events in their lives. But I experienced the best of them, the first moments of their lives.”

I considered her words carefully. She was right. While she could dwell on the future she would not have with her children, she would be better off thinking of the good times, the happy times, of the past. I could, at this point, only hope that the happier she was, the longer she would survive. One had to have the will to live, in order to survive.

“Where’s Potter?” His absence was noticeable.

“I sent him to work. Though, I doubt he is there. He is probably at Ron’s, complaining that I sent him away.” She laughed. “He was suffocating me.”

“He loves you,” I stated.

“I don’t doubt it.” She turned her head towards me, a movement that caused a wince to appear on her face. “How much longer do I have?”

“A month and a half at the most,” I muttered.

“I can feel it. It hurts to do things like walk to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I lay there sometimes and contemplate how important it is.” She stared at her children once more. “I don’t feel as weak during the daytime. But I get sharp pains if I walk around too much.”

“Your body is deteriorating slowly.” I knew the worst had yet to come. “I will bring some pain potions tomorrow.”

“Kids,” she hollered. I knew it caused her much pain to do so. “It’s time to head inside and wash up for lunch. Your grandmother will be here soon.”

“I’m surprised she isn’t already here,” I mumbled. My time spent in the Potter household had me becoming close to the Weasleys, especially the matriarch of the family, who had a penchant for coddling all those around her.

The kids ran past us as she said, “You love my mother.”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice,” I said.

“Thank you, Draco, for everything.” Her eyes shone as she spoke. “You didn’t have to do it. And I still can’t figure out why you are.”

“Me either, Ginny.” It was the first time I called her by her first name but not the last.

“The kids are gone now. Could you help me up? I didn’t want them to see how weak I’ve become.” She bowed her head, seeming ashamed about her weakness.

“If you need me, at any time, use the two way mirror I gave you.” I stood to my feet and helped her out of her chaise, which was moved around the house for her. “Even if it’s in the middle of the night, Ginny, I want you to contact me.”

There was a moment of silence before she said anything. “Will you stay for lunch?”

I didn’t notice what was happening. I didn’t notice that my feelings for her were changing. My wife suddenly became less attractive to me. I was leaving work early to go and spend the afternoon with her and her family. I even brought Scorpius over to play with her children. We would sit outside and talk, even on rainy days, her favorite kind of day. She loved the dark clouds, the cool rain drops on her heated skin. It was on one such evening that I first began to realize what was happening to me.

We were sitting on her back porch, heavy drops of rain falling onto the covering of the veranda. The children, Scorpius included, were inside playing exploding snap and chess. James, her eldest, would run outside every once in a while to check on his mother. At her insistence, he finally stopped. She didn’t insist he stop checking on her because she was alright, though. She insisted because she wasn’t feeling alright. The sand in the hourglass was falling at a rapid pace now, a month left until her expiration date. Her body was weakening every hour of the day.

“Draco?”

“Yes, Ginny?”

She turned her head to the side, her eyes closed. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“What?” I asked, completely baffled.

“We spend so much time talking about me and never you,” she replied. She let out a loud breath. “Why did you become a Healer?”

I stared at her, the way her red hair fell in her face, and said, “To make up for my mistakes.”

“No one can blame you for what you did as a child,” she said softly.

“I needed to give back the lives that I took,” I murmured.

“You can’t be responsible for such a task, Draco.” Her eyes opened, shining with unshed tears. “Why do you burden yourself?”

“I played a big part in the war, in the injuries. If I heal enough people, perhaps one day I will be cleansed,” I said, turning my head away, not being able to stand the sight of her tears. “I’m only sorry I couldn’t save you.”

She reached out and gripped my arm with more strength than I thought she possessed. “You’ve done all you can do, Draco. When I’m gone, promise me you won’t blame yourself for my death.”

“How can you care about me, when you’re the one dying?”

I couldn’t comprehend her compassion. It was foreign to me.

“Because, for some unexplainable reason, I care for you more than I should,” she whispered.

Then, one night, everything changed. Potter had been called away on Auror business, and asked me to stay at the house in case Ginny needed me. I didn’t want to do it. I had been trying to distance myself from her ever since she admitted she cared about me. I couldn’t admit to myself that I cared for her just as much. But I couldn’t deny his request, not being her Healer. She was my patient, and she needed to be cared for. It was my duty. So, I agreed to spend the night in the guest room. But late in the night, her coughing had me running into the room to check on her. I will never forget that night, the sight of her on the bed, frail, weak, and beautiful.

I knocked once on the door before entering. There, laying on the bed, was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. The white silk and lace of her night gown contrasted with her hair, which cascaded around her face like a silky red waterfall. Her face wasn’t contorted in pain, nor was it as pale as usual. Instead, there was a serene look on her face, her eyes opened and staring at me. The image of her was burned into my mind, into my heart. I couldn’t deny my feelings for her any longer. I could no longer pretend this was a normal Healer patient relationship. Seeing her there, relaxed despite her earlier coughing, made me succumb to my feelings.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

She nodded. “My throat just felt scratchy.”

I moved to her side, resting my wand on her side table as I poured her a glass of water from the jug on the table. She began to ease herself in a sitting position, and I rested the glass down, helping her into a comfortable position. I watched her carefully as she drank the water, the crease of her brow as she swallowed. Small movements were beginning to cause her pain. I knew the time was nearing, the time for her to depart from the world. When she stared up at me, I couldn’t look at her, not with the thoughts of her death floating on the surface of my mind.

“Do you need anything else?” I asked.

“Could you sit with me for a while?” She looked at me shyly.

I smiled. “I suppose the coughing was only to get me to come and sit in your bed with you. You didn’t have to go through all that trouble. You could have just asked.”

“Do you mean it?” she asked as I sat down.

I raised my eyebrow, thinking she was kidding. “Are you proposing we do something naughty?”

“Kiss me, Draco,” she whispered seriously.

“What?” My eyes widened, my heart beating faster than it should.

“I love Harry. I always have and always will, even in my death.” She played with her hands as she spoke, not looking me in the eye. “But I am in love with someone else.”

“Ginny—I can’t,” I said.

“Just one kiss, Draco,” she pleaded.

“You’re only attracted to me because I am your Healer. It is a common occurrence in patients with your type of ailment,” I stated, trying to keep up my professional demeanor.

“Please,” she begged.

I couldn’t resist. How could I deny her a dying wish? How could I deny myself something that I had longed to do but was scared to try? I couldn’t. I moved closer to her, cupping her face in my hands. Her lips parted as I leaned in to kiss her, my thumb caressing her cheek. Our lips touched and my world was turned upside down. It was the lightest touch but the strongest. I understood when people spoke poetically about kisses in that moment. I didn’t want it to stop. From that moment, from that kiss, I knew that my heart was lost.

There were stolen kisses after that, nothing more. Her kisses were my drug. I craved them more than I craved air. Her husband, her children, knew nothing of it, neither did Astoria or Scorpius. It was a love affair unlike any other. I didn’t need the sex, only her words whispered in my ear, her lips against my own, and her hand in mine. For two weeks, she looked healthier and happier than ever. Perhaps, this was when Potter began to notice. I would see him looking at us interacting, watching us closely. But he never said anything. I don’t think he had a chance. Two weeks after our first kiss, it happened.

“Malfoy, come quickly.”

I jumped up out of my sleep, my eyes searching the room. The repeated statement made me check the two way mirror I had given Ginny, surprised to see Potter’s face. I knew it couldn’t mean anything good. I threw the covers off my body, Apparating on the spot. The Potters’ wards had long ago been changed to afford me entry at any time. I appeared, shirtless, in their bedroom, worry and fear coursing through me, especially upon seeing Harry hovering over a very pale Ginny.

“Help,” Potter shouted.

I ran to her side. “Ginny?”

“This is it, then,” she whispered, her face contorting in pain.

I ran my wand over her, closing my eyes at the sight of the dark shades floating from the tip of my wand. I didn’t want to say the words. She knew, though. The pained expression on my face was enough to confirm her beliefs. I opened my eyes, the sight before me angering me. I couldn’t understand how she could lay there smiling, not when I felt like my life was ending as well. I stood from the bed, unable to sit there any longer and watch her.

“Harry, get the kids,” she murmured. “I want them to be with me, please.”

Harry nodded, tears visible behind the lens of his glasses. “I will be right back.”

“Draco?”

I turned around. “Yes, love?”

“Come here,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. I grabbed her hand when she held it out for me, kissing her knuckles. “I don’t know why or how it happened. But I love you. I just want you to know that.”

“Stay with me,” I pleaded, my voice cracked as I ran my hand across her hair, memorizing the way it felt, the way it smelt, everything about it. I didn’t want to forget her. “Don’t leave me.”

She smiled, touching my face. “You’ll be okay, Draco. I promise to watch over you.”

“I wish we had more time,” I whispered.

“Me too, Draco, me too,” she said, her eyes wet with moisture.

“Are you scared?” I asked.

“A little,” she muttered. “Will you stay here until I’m gone?”

I kissed her forehead. “I would stay here until the end of time if you asked me. You will be with me forever, Ginny. I will always hold my memory of you close to me. I love you.”

The sound of the door unlocking made me let go of her hand. I didn’t want to color her children’s views of her. I didn’t want to let go but I had to. I watched as they cried, her youngest, Lily, curling up next to her mother. Potter watched over them, wiping at the tears that fell down his face. I felt like an intruder on this moment. But I promised her I would stay, and I wouldn’t break that promise.

I watched, on the day that I grew one year older, the life fade from within her, and pronounced her time of death amongst the tears of her family.

I inhaled the scent of the light rain, a slight smile on my face. She would have liked today. Ginny was the love of my life. After her death, I retired from my position as a Healer. I couldn’t bear the thought of saving the lives of others, when I didn’t save hers.

“It’s been three years, love.” I crouched over the grave, my hand brushing against the engraving I etched myself, hidden from the eyes of everyone else. “And I’ve never stopped loving you. You were my first real love and my last.”

In Loving Memory of

Ginevra Molly Weasley-Potter
A wife, a mother, a sister and a friend.

August 11, 1981-June 5, 2020

Memories of you will forever linger in our mind.

One line, visible only to one man, was etched beneath the engravings.

Wherever I am, there you are also.

Wherever I am, there you are also, is a line from Beethoven's loveletters.