Back To Her

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter and company and the wonderful world they reside in. Me? I own diddly-squat. Sucks don’t it?

A/N: Who am I kidding? I don’t write D/G, I barely even read it. But the damn plot bunny would not leave me alone. I had a story to tell. Maybe someday I’ll tell you the rest. For now, this is all there is. Thanks to VirtualFaerie/MalfoyMyFerret for beta work. *Huggles*

Back To Her

The wind whipped at their backs as they stood solemnly and stoically in the courtyard beneath the weathered stone faces of the castle exterior. Their faces were written with the same hard lines and rigid grayness as those rocky walls. Standing in the center was a thin boy with a face weathered beyond its 17 years by worry and a long, trying war. His green eyes showed nothingness behind them, not even tears; his eyes had shed far too many droplets to have any left within them. He looked across the row of headstones across the green grass, some recently turned up. All too recently.

The girl to his right cried silently, not bothering to wipe them away and letting them stream down her face and drop to the ground. She leaned softly against the boy… man, she mentally admonished herself. Looking across his chest, she saw the other girl who had joined them.

Ginny’s hair whipped about her face in the biting breeze. Next to her sat Ron, as his injuries left him unable to stand for the time being. She bore her pain in stillness, daring not to let the other delve into the depth of her hurt over the names on those headstones.

After a moment, Harry bent before the center stone. He whispered the name upon it softly. “Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.” He still found himself unable to bring tears. The old man, who had tried to give Harry so much, had ended up giving his life, so that Harry might have one final chance to destroy Voldemort for good. Harry’s one respite was that he hadn’t wasted that chance.

Ginny watched, with seeming impassiveness as the others bent over the headstones. Her eyes scanned across them names… Dumbledore…Rubeus Hagrid…Bill Weasley…Dedalus Diggle…Nymphadora Tonks… She had to pause momentarily as tears began to build in her eyes. She tried to blink them back, but they wouldn’t stop as the names continued.

Seamus Finnigan… She saw the sandy haired boy laughing, along with his friend, Dean Thomas. She looked back momentarily, at the tall boy who had become a hardened fighter after his best friend’s death.

Padma Patil…Dead saving her sister’s life.

Cho Chang…Among the last defenders of Hogwarts, who had died to a man making sure the others escaped. Justin Finch-Fletchely, Blaise Zabini, Michael Cross… Dead with her.

Ginny closed her eyes with pain, as she reached the last name in the row, a name ignored by Harry, Ron, Hermione, everyone. Everyone but her.

Draco Malfoy.

She couldn’t stop her tears this time, and they flowed down her cheeks, hot in the cold air. She dared not speak of her quiet agony. None of them knew. None of them understood. How the boy’s icy heart had cracked for her. How she had quietly loved him back, even as he fell deeper into the Dark Arts. How she had tried to make him stop, but he had refused. She closed her eyes against the new flood of pain brought forth by the memory of the day he had told her he would not come back to her this time. But he had, in his own way, even though she never saw him alive again.

She had his letter in her pocket. Everything that had happened. She crinkled the paper in her fist softly. She knew it by heart.

Dear Ginny,

By the time you receive this, I might be dead. Or I might be on the run from the Dark Lord. Either way, it is unlikely we will ever meet again. I told you I wouldn’t be coming back, albeit for different reasons.

But I had to let you know. I had to tell you what happened. I am sorry I ever left you Ginny. I love you. I know it seems odd to say so now, as I’m not even close to being done, but that had to be gotten out of the way. I love you.

I arrived at the Dark Lord’s fortress—well, more of a ramshackle house—a few days after I left. There, I was slowly instructed in advanced Dark magic. I won’t bore you with the details, they’re not important anyways. What is important is the day I was told to use them. And they even had a test subject: Professor Snape. The first day it was some basic Dark hexes. Later, it was the Imperious Curse. Then the Cruciatus Curse. I am not afraid to say it, I was sickened by what I was doing. To watch him writhe in absolute pain… I have been called many things… But I was never inhuman. I felt real regret. My father was never a good father. I had all I wanted but… Never a figure to look up to. Professor Snape gave me that. I had real respect for the man. Probably the only person I really respected.

They told me to practice the Cruciatus Curse again, I wasn’t doing it well on him. I’m going to take the opportunity. If all goes well… It will be apparent what happened.

Never doubt that I did love you. Somehow… You gave me what I didn’t have inside me. You made me whole Ginny. I love you, always.

Draco

She heard a soft voice behind her.

“He was a good man in the end.” It was Snape. Snape whom Draco had rescued from the clutches of Voldemort himself. Because he couldn’t bear to do what the Death Eaters did. Because he couldn’t take pleasure out of that kind of pain.

Ginny’s cheeks reddened. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”

Snape blinked slowly and continued to look at her for a long moment. Then he turned his gaze on Draco’s headstone. “Don’t play the empty-headed girl with me, Ms Weasley. I knew about you and Mr. Malfoy.”

Ginny let out a soft gasp. She had thought they had been so careful, nobody knew. Her parents, brothers, friends certainly didn’t.

“Yes, I know. I know it all. He died like a man. For something he believed in. Not for you, you must understand. He did it for himself.”

Ginny swallowed hard. “So he didn’t change for me. He didn’t—”

“You think that because he didn’t do it for you means he didn’t truly love you? I was there when he died you know. We were supposed to rendezvous. But they got to him first. They were gone by the time I got there. He clung to life long enough to say one thing to me.” Snape turned his black eyes on Ginny, yet they held no scorn, only… mourning?

Ginny trembled to know what it was, what Snape knew. “What did he say?”

Snape drew in a breath and let it out slowly, before looking off into the distance.

“I wanted to go back to her.”