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In the end, everything in life came down to timing and chance. Ginny knew this, the same way she knew her face in the mirror or the pattern of scars running down her leg. Life had taught her well, in lesson after lesson.
If she had not fled to Romania, hoping to heal her body and soul, she would never have fallen in love with Charlie's dragons and thrown herself headfirst into their care and management.
If she had looked up earlier, she would have seen the Bludger in time to avoid the fall that permanently damaged nerves in her leg and ended her Quidditch career in the first place.
If she and Harry had not shared a brief moment of true honesty and admitted to loving the idea of being together more than the reality, she would be Mrs. Harry Potter by now.
If Fred had been standing just a few more inches from that collapsing wall, he might not have died, Ginny might not have felt that a relationship with a former Death Eater would be a total betrayal of her family, and she would never have resumed her relationship with Harry.
If she had gone left instead of right while running from the Carrows, she would never have fallen in love with Draco Malfoy during the occupation of Hogwarts.
Ginny scrubbed her hands over the velvety, blue-green grass and shifted until the now-familiar twinge in her hip subsided. Time and chance. Too often in her life, she felt helpless before them, as if it was her destiny to be buffeted by Fate the same way it had been Harry's to fight Voldemort or Ron's and Hermione's to fall in love.
No. She shook her head, to derail her train of thought. "For every door that closes, a window opens," Hermione had whispered in her ear that first night in St. Mungo's when Ginny opened her eyes and realized she'd never fly again. Well, she thought, this was it. This was her time and chance: the Wiltshire Dragon Preserve, new home to the largest clutch of Hebridean Blacks south of Scotland.
And Ginny was in charge.
Ginny climbed to her feet, looking down on the preserve in satisfaction. Her tiny farmhouse sat in a small patch of green, flanked by massive barns and pens specially designed by Ginny's own brother Charlie to give their 30-foot inhabitants room to live and play. A storehouse, filled with gravel bedding and venison, sat equidistant between the brood and stud barns, and a bunkhouse—currently occupied only by Charlie and Hagrid—was off to one side. A harsh roar echoed from the East Barn, and Ginny smiled as Hagrid ambled off the bunkhouse porch toward the source of the noise.
She stretched, loving the sunshine on her bare arms. For the first time since she was a new recruit for the Harpies, she awoke every morning eager for her day to begin. It was a good feeling. A cool breeze played with the ends of her long red hair, and she took a deep breath of sweet morning air and held it in her lungs, as if trying to capture a little of the light and warmth of the scene before her and hold it inside. This part of Wiltshire was beautiful, an oasis of flowers and rolling green hills. They were lucky to be here, lucky to have such a place for the preserve.
Even if being here meant seeing Draco all the time, she was still lucky.
She sighed when she spotted him marching down the path that lead from Malfoy Manor to the preserve, every movement agitated and angry, no doubt filled with complaints and half-empty threats. He never missed a day.
Draco stopped in front of her house and bellowed her name. Her last name, as if they had never been on a first name basis, as if he had never wrapped his arms around her in a dark corner and whispered her name into her hair. She couldn't decide if it was more painful to think that he had forgotten her or to think that he might remember everything but could still be such a thorn in her side.
Ginny squared her shoulders and bit back another sigh, beginning the long trek down the hill and toward another confrontation.
She wouldn't let him spoil this for her. Not this time, not a chance.
*
"Weasley!"
A half-dozen dragons echoed Draco's roar, but Ginny refused to quicken her pace. She climbed slowly over one of the many ancient stone walls threading the preserve, favoring her right leg. These walls were everywhere, sometimes so worn and broken they were lost in the grass, sometimes waist high and sturdy. It would have been easier to tear them all down, but one of the few conditions the Ministry had placed upon their land use here was that these walls should remain as undisturbed as possible. Ginny and Charlie had evaluated, shrugged, and built around them, but as Weasleys, they were adaptable that way.
The same could not be said for Malfoys.
"Damn it, Weasley! Get out here!"
Ginny rounded the corner in time to see her brother lean against a fence post not far from Draco. "Malfoy. What a surprise." Charlie's voice was as flat and calm as a pond. "What is it this time?"
"I'm not looking for you.
The two men couldn't be more different, she decided. Charlie was shirtless and shaggy, burn-scarred and tattooed. Beside him, Draco was a dark cloud. Dressed in his usual black, as if in defiance of the spring morning, he was severe and refined in a way he had tried so hard to be as a boy but failed to quite pulled off. He was never at ease, she realized. His shirts were always buttoned up to the collar and down to the cuff; his hair was regimentally short, nothing like the long mane his father had sported. She hadn't pictured Lucius Malfoy in her mind's eye for a long time, and she didn't know if she should be saddened or amused that Draco—in his austerity and joylessness—reminded her more of the late Severus Snape than his own father.
"I'm looking for the other one, the one pretending to be your boss."
His sharp tones and sharper words snapped her back to attention. "No one's pretending anything, Malfoy. What is it?"
There was nothing but anger in his gray eyes, and she felt a small pang in her heart whenever he looked at her. It'll get better, she promised herself. Time and chance. Either you'll finally get over him or he'll grow tired of starting the same fight over and over. No one can stay angry forever. She took in his narrowed eyes and the way his hands clenched into fists on his hips at the sight of her. Well, almost no one.
"Miss Weasley," he dripped venom, "I'd like an explanation for last night."
Ginny immediately understood. The previous night they had tested the new wards around the gigantic flight paddock by releasing Blackjack, a 26-foot male with exquisite spinal ridges, for a few hours. The wards had functioned perfectly, giving Blackjack the freedom to fly without letting him pass their sharply defined boundaries. The test had been a smashing success, and Blackjack had been well-behaved, with minimal roaring and fire breathing. He had even descended to earth and gone back to the stud barn without a fuss. Draco had nothing to complain about.
"'An explanation for last night'?" Her voice was deliberately mild. "Certainly, Mr. Malfoy. As the earth rotates on its axis, part of the earth's surface is turned away from—"
"One of your blasted beasts came dangerously close to the Manor!" Other than the two spots of color on his cheeks, Draco ignored the way Charlie chuckled.
"Wrong. Blackjack never left the flight paddock, which means he was never closer than the length of two Quidditch pitches to Malfoy Manor." She maintained her equanimity, though Draco seemed to be rapidly losing his.
"I want this to stop, Weasley." His teeth were tightly clenched. "You're putting my family in danger."
Ginny tried a different tactic. "Look, in the wild, a Hebridean Black's territory might be a hundred square miles wide. As a breed, they require a tremendous amount of exercise. If we pen them up constantly with no outlet, they'll go mad. That would be a threat to your safety, not structured flight time in a heavily warded paddock."
He was implacable. "They should have stayed in the Hebrides where they belong."
Ginny sighed and, from the corner of her eye, saw Charlie shake his head. Sometimes arguing with Draco was like yelling at a wall.
"As you're well aware, when Alasdair MacFusty died—"
"You mean when he was eaten by one of those monsters!" Draco half-yelled. "Monsters you've brought onto my land!"
"When MacFusty died, that was the end of the Hebrides preserve." Ginny forged doggedly on. "There's barely a witch or wizard left in the MacFusty clan. Control passed to one of the old laird's Squib cousins, and she's selling out." She took a steadying breath. "If the dragons return to the Hebrides, they'll be flying directly over Muggle housing in a few years."
"Better their houses than my house."
"Don't you care about preserving a vital part of Britain's natural history?" She snapped, losing her temper after all. "These are beautiful animals, crowded out of their own habitat."
For a moment, he gazed past her toward the West Barn, a faraway look in his eye, but then he shook his head in denial. "I won't have them flying in sight of the Manor, Miss Weasley." She sputtered, and he held up his hand. "My mother is…ill." His mouth twisted. "It upsets her to see them, believing my father would never have allowed their presence if he was still alive."
Ginny crossed her arms, so tired of this circuitous argument. "We're not doing anything wrong. I hate to remind you of this—again—but control of this portion of your family's estate was turned over to the Ministry to help pay the damages levied against your father at his last trial. For the next 200 years, it's up to the Ministry, not you, to decide how this land will be used, and it was with Ministry approval that we set up the preserve here."
Draco closed his eyes, the flesh around his mouth turning white with the strain of biting his tongue.
"I'm sorry if your mother finds our presence here upsetting," Ginny continued, "but that's not my problem. If you want to prevent us from providing a proper home for these dragons, you'll have to take it up with the Ministry."
He continued to stand with his eyes shut for an interminable length of time, but when he finally spoke, his voice was calm. "I intend to, Miss Weasley. I thank you for the advice." He had retreated back into his cool shell, only the muscle twitching in his jaw betraying his emotions. He spun on his heel and stalked away.
Would every encounter with Draco leave Ginny feeling drained and blue? She rubbed her eyes and willed herself to recapture some of the contentment she had felt that morning.
Charlie jumped lightly over the fence and slung an arm around her shoulders. "Well done, Gin." They stood side by side for a moment, watching until Draco crossed over the crest of the hill and disappeared. "Poor bastard." Charlie shook his head. "This is killing him. You could almost feel sorry for him."
She kept her eyes on the spot where he had vanished from her sight. "Do you think Mrs. Malfoy's really sick?"
Her brother laughed. "No. Feeling put upon, maybe, unhappy the view from her sitting room has changed, but not sick." He rumpled her hair as if she was a little girl again, and grinned when she smacked his hand away. "I said you could almost feel sorry for Malfoy, Ginny, not that you should."
"Hmm," she grunted noncommittally. Both siblings turned at the sound of Hagrid's heavy tread.
"Here, you two!" There was a happy light in the half-giant's eyes. In the outdoors and surrounded by dragons, Hagrid was in sort of personal paradise, one Ginny was appreciating more every day. "How 'bout we stop fer a bite o' lunch before tacklin' the afternoon's work?"
*
"Back again, was he?"
Nodding, Ginny rested her elbows on her desk and took a bite of her sandwich. Lunch and tea were frequently eaten in her cluttered office, plates balanced upon stacks of parchment.
In the corner, under the large whiteboard spelled to display each dragon's feeding and exercise schedules, Hagrid took a deep drink from a flagon longer than Ginny's arm. He wiped his mouth with a large napkin. "Well, that's ter be expected, I 'spose. Will he cause trouble fer us w' the Ministry?"
"What trouble?" Stretched out on the window seat with a plate on his lap, Charlie waved his hand in dismissal. "He's complained so much, the inspectors don't even respond anymore."
"And we're not doing anything wrong," Ginny said shortly.
"And we're not doing anything wrong," he parroted. "Let Malfoy throw his little tantrums."
"That's easy for you to say." Ginny dropped her sandwich to her plate. "You don't have to fight with him every day." And even if you did, it wouldn't hurt you the way it hurts me, she added silently.
"Too bad you can't change his mind 'bout our dragons." Hagrid picked up his third sandwich and devoured it in two bites. "Get him int'rested in the preserve."
Ginny sank back in her chair. "Short of casting the Imperius on him, that doesn't seem likely, Hagrid."
"Oh, I don't know 'bout that." Thinking, he stroked his long beard. "Malfoy's gone respectable, right?"
"He has? When?" But Hagrid and Ginny just ignored Charlie.
"He's involved in all sortsa causes, innit he? Why not the one in his own back garden?" Enthusiastic, Hagrid bounced in place, making the floorboards shake. "Get him involved; make him care 'bout our dragons."
"How?" Ginny doubted she had the power to make Draco care about anything.
"Better question: why?" Charlie sat up. "Getting Malfoy involved means having him around even more. I didn't think you liked the Malfoys, Hagrid."
"I don't, but I also don't want to watch our Ginny fightin' with him for the next hundred years." Hagrid shrugged. "Anyway, the things he did, the way he usedta act…Malfoy was just a kid back then. He may not be such a bad sort now. What d'you think, Ginny?"
She traced a dark knot on her desk top, not meeting their eyes. "Perhaps."
Ginny wasn't convinced he'd ever been a "bad sort," not even when he was a kid. Not even during the war.
*
It had all gone terribly wrong, and Ginny would pay the price.
Desperate, she had dashed down the darkened corridor, hoping to make it either to the Room of Requirement or the relative safety of Gryffindor Tower before the Carrows could catch her.
"You filthy blood-traitor bitch!" Alecto had screamed from behind her. "When I catch you, I'll Crucio the brains right out of your skull! And then I'll let my brother have his fun!"
Ginny struggled to keep her wits about her, but she couldn't suppress the shudder that ran through her frame. It was only last week that the Carrows had caught and tormented Seamus for the first time. When he had staggered into the Room of Requirement, his body shaking uncontrollably from the aftereffects of the Cruciatus and his face covered in blood, everyone had been afraid. Lavender Brown had used the Dentitius Charm to put the teeth Amycus had knocked loose back into his jaw, while Ginny had straightened his broken fingers with a quiet Episkey. She had hugged Seamus for his bravery even while her eyes met Neville's and Luna's. They would need to be more careful from then on.
She should not have left the Room of Requirement.
Feet pounding stone, Ginny ran as fast as she could. It sounded like Alecto was far behind her. If she could make it to the stairs, and up to the third floor, she should be able to get inside the Room of Requirement long before the squat Death Eater came anywhere close. Ginny hurtled around a corner, intent on reaching the far staircase as quickly as possible…
…when she ran into Amycus Carrow's waiting fist. With a choked cry as she felt her lips split, she fell to the floor.
"Not too bright, girlie." His eyes traced over her avidly and that lopsided sneer, the one that appeared every time Carrow was given the chance to hurt someone, the sneer every Hogwarts student had had a chance to observe this hellish year, twisted his face. "Oh, are you gonna be sorry now."
He reached for her with his lumpy hands, and she tore her wand out from under her hip. Frantic, waving her arm wildly and feeling her mouth begin to swell, she bellowed the Bat-Bogey Hex.
Amycus squealed, but Ginny was too busy rolling to her feet and tearing off in the direction she had come from to pause and admire her own handiwork.
Alecto, she thought feverishly as she turned the corner, leaving Amycus behind. If I keep running this way, I'll run into Alecto. A dumpy shadow appeared on the wall ahead, and Ginny skidded to a stop. With nowhere else to run, she tried the door immediately to her left, and to her shock and relief, it opened.
As quietly as she could, and with one hand clasped over her mouth to catch any drops of blood before they could fall to the floor, Ginny closed the door, ran to the front of the classroom, and crawled under the teacher's desk. She was struggling so intently on quieting her breathing, she almost didn't hear the soft scrape of a sole on the stone floor, a sound coming not from the door, but from over by the windows instead.
Oh, Nimue! Someone's in here. She clutched her wand tighter as the footsteps drew ever closer. Tears, whether from stress or from a delayed reaction to the pain of being punched, burned in her eyes. Would they kill her? she wondered. She would never see her parents or brothers again. She would never see Harry again.
At the thought of her ex-boyfriend, a sudden, uncontrollable, white-hot rage filled her, burning away her fear. She and the rest of Dumbledore's Army were trapped here in this hell while Harry was off doing who knows what. Harry--with all of his secrets, with the way he clung to this idea that Ginny couldn't take care of herself--he had no idea what they were going through. Maybe he wouldn't care even if he did know. She focused on the tip of her wand until her hand stopped shaking, and the soft footsteps rounded the desk.
She was Ginny bloody Weasley. She'd fight her way out of this.
Draco Malfoy stared down at her, expressionless. Other than the shining fall of his hair and the whiteness of his skin, he blended seamlessly with the dark. Even his Slytherin crest seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it. He cocked his head to one side, as if weighing his options.
She raised her wand, ready. Her blood, running hot in her veins, dripped from her chin, and Ginny knew that when her torn lip curled in a snarl, her teeth must be stained red. In the hall outside, Amycus was still choking and squealing, and Ginny could hear Alecto cursing and rattling doorknobs.
It was a genuine letdown when Malfoy turned his back on her and walked away.
From her hiding spot, she watched his feet as he walked around the desk until he faced the door. With a sigh, he sat on one corner, and Ginny watched one polished shoe swing back and forth.
Alecto yanked the door open. "A-ha! Now I have you, you little…Draco?"
"Professor Carrow." Draco sounded calm and cordial, as if he were greeting Alecto in the Great Hall at noon instead of in an abandoned classroom at night while her brother gibbered in the corridor.
"What are you doing here? Where's the girl?" She walked closer, and Ginny pointed wand at the gap under the desk in preparation.
"Ginny Weasley? I've no idea." His foot never stopped swinging.
"Here, now!" the woman said sharply. "How'd you know I was talking about the girl Weasley unless you've seen her?"
"I'm uncomfortably familiar with Weasley's Bat-Bogey Hex." Malfoy could not have sounded more bored if he tried. Outside, Amycus made a pathetic gagging sound. "You should really tell your brother to keep his mouth shut." He paused and seemed to be stretching. "They crawl inside your mouth if you scream."
Alecto didn't move. "You never said what you're doing in here."
"Patrolling."
"Patrolling? On whose orders?"
"The headmaster's, naturally. Speaking of whom, he would probably undo Weasley's handiwork if you ask him nicely." Ginny swore she could hear Malfoy smirking. "For both you and your brother, of course. I can see why you're so angry with Weasley. You don't want anyone else to see that, do you?"
Ginny bit her ravaged lip, hoping the pain would keep her from giggling hysterically. Ginny's latest prank, the one she had intended to spring during Muggle Studies but which had misfired seconds after Alecto had caught Ginny hiding it in her classroom, had left red and gold letters across Alecto's face spelling Dumbledore's Army.
Alecto muttered something foul under her breath, but turned and moved toward the door. "If you're patrolling, then get off your arse and find that girl. When you do, bring her to me."
"I'll get right on that," he drawled as the door closed.
Amycus's noises drifted away, and finally it was just Ginny and the slowly swinging foot.
"I think you can come out now."
His voice was soft, almost indifferent, and Ginny slid out from under the desk on her bum so she'd never have to take her wand off him.
"Time to call it a night, I think." He stood up and faced her, unfazed by her defensive stance. "Give it a rest, Weasley. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have just turned you over to the Carrows."
Ginny slowly lowered her wand. "What are you doing, Malfoy?" Her mouth was swollen enough to garble her words. "Do you want me in your debt? Is that it?" She stiffened her spine. "'Cause I'd rather be Crucio'd than owe you."
He gave her another one of those considering looks, as if her words were too unimportant to recognize. "I could fix your mouth," he offered finally. "Stand still."
She jumped when he raised his wand, but all he did was recite a strange, sing-songy charm. She whimpered when she felt her lip knitting back together. The burn of a quick healing charm was never pleasant.
"There. Avoid getting your face pounded in again, and you should be just fine." He watched her lick her lip and she froze involuntarily. Some sharp emotion twisted his features in reaction. "Get over yourself, Weasley, and then get out. I've surpassed my tolerance for ginger hair and freckles for the night, so I'll be damned if I'll look at you for another minute."
Ginny inched around him, awkwardly making her way to the door without turning her back. "Don't think for a moment that you've earned my trust here. I still hate you."
"As you should." He stuck his wand up his sleeve, his eyes shuttered and unreadable now in the gloom. "I hate you too."
As she had slipped out the door, she'd heard him mutter, "Let's not do this again."
*
But they did, Ginny recalled. They met many times over the course of that year, in abandoned classrooms and darkened hallways. And if Draco looked pale and sometimes rubbed his left forearm, or if the castle walls happened to be vandalized with slogans for Dumbledore's Army on the very nights Ginny snuck out and met him, they never discussed the war.
They talked about Quidditch and the World Cup only to discover neither was sure who competed this year. No team from Britain, was all they knew.
They talked about The Quibbler, never the front page with its pictures of Harry and calls for people everywhere to unite against You-Know-Who, but the inner pages. Was Thicknesse really controlled by a tribe of advanced Cornish Pixies? Could an extraction of Bubotuber Pus really melt years off one's skin, or would it just melt the skin itself? Was it possible for a common philodendron to scream and warn its owner of impending attack? Ginny brought a Lovegoodian slant gleaned from Luna to the conversations, and Draco called them both idiots. With the paper spread on the floor in front of them and his shining head bent close to hers, Ginny felt normal in a way she had not since Dumbledore's death.
It was a lark, a release, a way to laugh in the dark, and Ginny never wondered about Draco's motives until she really looked at the dark circles under his eyes and his bloodless skin.
"I don't sleep much," he told her irritably. "I'm not even tired anymore."
"I'm tired all the time," she replied. "I just can't rest."
*
"Why do you do it?" he had asked. "You're sixteen. No one would blame you if you kept your head down and your mouth shut."
Ginny glanced over, but Draco was staring fixedly at a sleeping portrait. She had joined him tonight with a vibrant purple bruise on her cheekbone, caused by landing face down on the floor when Goyle hit her with the Cruciatus during detention. Blankly, Draco had stared at the bruise, just blinking slowly when she muttered "detention" and then healing the mark with the same tuneful charm he had used on her before.
He hadn't looked at her since.
"I'd blame myself, and that's enough." She too examined the painting as if it were the most interesting thing in the hall. "You were sixteen when you joined You-Know-Who, weren't you? Why didn't you stay out of it?"
He shifted as if embarrassed, and Ginny didn't stop to think, any more than she thought about the way he seemed to wait for her in every shadowed hallway, or the way he never seemed to talk to anyone else, or even the way she was no longer afraid when he lifted his wand toward her face. She just inched closer, until she could feel his body heat through their school robes.
"I thought…" He swallowed audibly. "I thought I was helping my family. I thought I was fighting for everything I believe in." His open palms waffled away from his body in a strange half-gesture, as if to say Wasn't I foolish? Laugh if you want.
She took his hand in her own instead.
"That's why I fight too." He was so still, just staring down at their entwined fingers, he didn't appear to even be breathing. "I guess we're not so different after all, Draco."
He said nothing, but when she gave his hand a squeeze, he squeezed back.
*
"Where is she, you bastard? Where did you people take Luna?"
Ginny's voice had been thick with grief, and her eyes still burned from all the tears she had shed since Luna was pulled off the Hogwarts Express. Almost as bad as the pain of her friend's abduction, however, was the idea that Malfoy had abused her trust. He had listened to her chirp about the Christmas holiday, pretended to share her relief over getting away from Snape and the Carrows and seeing family again, when all the while he may have known the Death Eaters were planning to silence Xenophilius Lovegood by targeting his beloved daughter.
I'm such a traitor. Her shame fueled her rage and she pulled her wand without thinking.
"Answer me!" She was loud, too loud for this nighttime corridor, but the sight of him drove her mad. He just stood there like a marble statue, his hands limp at his sides, his eyes shut as if he could block out the world.
"Look at me!" Her wand clattered to the floor as she slapped him hard across the face. "Did you put her in Azkaban? Is she in some dark cellar in your precious Malfoy Manor? Where—"
"I can't tell you," he whispered. His head was still turned to one side where it had been rocked by the strength of her arm. "It's not safe for you to know."
"How…how can you do this?" Crying, Ginny grabbed both shoulders and forced him against the wall. He looked at her then, her handprint a livid blemish on his face. His own eyes were wet, and his mouth moved silently. Sorry…sorry…I'm sorry.
She hid her face against his chest so she wouldn't have to see him anymore. She could feel his bones, even through his thick winter robes. The sharp edge of his collarbone, the jut of his ribs—it was as if the war was whittling Draco down to nothing, even as his comrades grew fat and sated on their cruelty.
Boneless, Draco sank to the floor, and Ginny sank with him, half in his lap.
She kept crying. "I hate you."
His arms shook as he wrapped them around her, and she could feel his mouth moving against her hair. "Yeah. I hate me too."
*
His lips had been searing hot, and his hands were everywhere.
They never spoke of trivialities anymore. No sports, no favorite foods, no happy childhood memories.
They never spoke of the war either. No Harry, no Luna. No Dark Lord, no Death Eaters.
With little left to discuss, they clung to each other instead, pressing their bodies together in the shadows or stretching out together on a teacher's desk in an abandoned classroom. There simply wasn't much to say that could not be better communicated with their bodies than with words.
If Ginny caught her own hands shaking from stress, or if she spotted Draco staring baffled around the Great Hall during dinner as if he could not believe what he saw around him was real, well, Ginny knew those weren't sufficient reasons to break their self-imposed silence.
She had done so only once, when he had given her chocolate for Valentine's Day. It was so ordinary.
"You could do something." Her voice was rough from disuse, her lips swollen from kisses.
"No, I can't." He didn't pretend to misunderstand. "I only have enough in me to be exactly what I am: a Malfoy." His lips ghosted over her ear. "You don't need my help anyway. You're stronger than I am."
*
In the wee hours of the morning in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, the day Easter hols began, she pressed her mouth over his heart and whispered she loved him, quiet enough that he could ignore it if he wanted.
He didn't.
Later, on the Hogwarts Express, feeling a not unpleasant ache in the still-sticky place between her thighs with every clickety-clack of the rails, Ginny closed her eyes and let herself rest.
*
Run. They know R is with HP.
The note, in an unfamiliar hand (had she really never seen his handwriting?) had been delivered by an unfamiliar owl while dinner's leftovers were still on the table.
"Ginny? Who—" her father began, but Bill Apparated into the Burrow with a loud crack and began yelling for everyone to get to Muriel's.
She had clutched the note in her hand until her father pulled it free, read it, and tossed it into the fire.
"I'm sorry, Ginny. I'm glad you've found an ally, but it's not safe to hold onto."
*
She had not seen Draco again until after the Battle of Hogwarts, after that first celebration had worn down and Minister Shacklebolt had ordered Lucius Malfoy arrested.
She had stood there, feeling as if Fred's ghost perched on her shoulder, watching Narcissa Malfoy sob and watching Draco cover his eyes with both hands. He looked around the room once, wildly, before finding her. The anguish on his face would have plowed furrows in her heart had it not been hardened by her brother's death. He had bitten his lip until she thought he might draw blood, then taken his mother's arm and led her from the Hall without a backward glance.
It wasn't until Harry took her hand that Ginny realized he had been beside her all the time.
*
"Ginny? You in there?"
Charlie's hand waving an inch from her nose, brought Ginny back to reality.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat, looking vaguely around the office. Her tiny kingdom, she thought, and it had been carved out of the land Draco loved so much. Was Fate playing with her again?
"Sorry." She stood up and stretched, shaking her right leg a bit to get the blood flowing again. "I think," she cleared her throat, "I think your idea is a good one, Hagrid."
*
The next day, Ginny sent an owl to the Manor inviting Draco to join her in the West Barn after lunch.
She had almost given up hope when he showed up shortly before tea.
"What is it, Miss Weasley?"
Startled, she whirled in the barn's center aisle, the gravel bedding she had been levitating falling to the concrete and scattering everywhere.
She swore loudly, and three of the four dragons roared and chuffed blue-orange flame. The flames were harmlessly diffused by the wards surrounding each brood dragon's pen, but the effect—and the noise—was still startling to the uninitiated.
Great. Ginny watched Draco cringe and clap his hands over his ears. We're off to a good start.
"Draco, I'm sorry." She spoke loudly but calmly, knowing nothing would calm the dragons faster than a return to normalcy. Sure enough, Friction and Scarlet immediately subsided, leaving only Firebug, a pugnacious, newly-matured female, pacing in circles and growling. "You startled me," Ginny continued.
"What is this about?" Clad in another black shirt and pair of black trousers, Draco was almost indistinguishable from yesterday. His hair, though, was tousled by the day's high winds, and Ginny had an urge to smooth it with her fingers. "Miss Weasley?"
"Hmm?" She jumped slightly. "Oh. Well, based upon our conversation yesterday, I realized you don't know much about our daily operations down here. I thought we could spend some time together, and I'll show you around, answer your questions, that kind of thing." When he merely raised one eyebrow, she followed up with "And please call me Ginny, Draco. We didn't used to be so formal."
He cocked his head to one side, assessing her, and Ginny shivered at the feeling of déjà vu. For a moment, they could have been two frightened kids in a dark room again, instead of two adults in a brightly lit barn.
"No, I guess we weren't," he murmured. He took a deep breath and exhaled her name in a sigh, as if he had been waiting for a long time to say it again. "Ginny."
She shivered for an entirely different reason.
"Come—" Her breath caught and she cleared her throat. "Come meet Scarlet. She's queen bee around here."
Side by side, they walked to the largest pen. Ginny was comfortable, and it took her a moment to realize it was not just because she was finally walking next to someone she would always love.
Draco made her feel normal.
Since her fall, Ginny's gait was choppy at best, her weakened right leg forcing her to take shorter steps and rely more strongly upon her left. Other people, even well-intentioned ones like her brothers or Harry, simply moved faster than Ginny could. She would fall behind, watch others realize it, and see them pause until she could catch up. Ginny was embarrassed by these constant start-and-stop mechanics and she couldn't help but feel it must be frustrating for others.
Draco somehow managed to adjust his gait to hers in a way that was unobtrusive and natural.
She smiled up at him and was pleased that he smiled back.
Together, they peered into Scarlet's pen. At just over 30 feet in length, covered in shining black scales and spines, and curled protectively around a glowing mauve egg, Scarlet was absolutely breathtaking. Or at least, Ginny thought so, but she could tell even Draco was impressed. Not everyone had the chance to get this close to a brooding dragon every day.
"Scarlet's a proven breeder, not an easy thing for a dragon in captivity." Ginny kept her voice just above a whisper now, but Scarlet lifted her head anyway, scrutinizing them through one brilliant purple eye. A scuffle when she was still a hatchling had marred her face with a bright red, bolt-shaped scar, costing her an eye and giving her a name. "We were thrilled when Scarlet laid an egg a month after her arrival here. We never expected it to happen so soon. She's my favorite." Ginny sighed happily, wishing again that she could pet one of her charges without losing an arm. It wouldn't do to forget Alasdair MacFusty, however…
"I'm sure she is." His tone was cool and his eyes were focused on Scarlet's scar. "It must be nice to have a dragon who reminds you of Potter. Must lessen the pain of separation while you're here and he's off being the Ministry darling."
"I don't miss Harry. I just saw him at Ron and Hermione's over Christmas." Ginny's tone, on the other hand, was completely benign. "In fact, Harry and his girlfriend are planning to drop by next week. Luna will be writing a series about the plight of Britain's magical creatures for The Quibbler and she's focusing on the preserve for the first article."
Draco leaned back, the coiled tension in his spine seeming to dissolve with the act. "So, Potter's really dating Lovegood?"
"Yes, and they're both quite happy about it." She rested her chin against a fireproof crosspiece. "Luna's a better match for him than I was, and she can keep up with him at all those Ministry functions he has to attend." She turned and smiled at Draco again. "I'm afraid these clodhopper boots--" she lifted one foot, "—don't really go with fancy dress robes for a Ministry Ball. Since high heels would make me fall over now, I think I've danced at my last Ministry party."
He exhaled audibly through his nose, almost as if he would breathe fire himself if he could. "As if I needed any further evidence that Potter's an ass."
"Don't misunderstand." Her voice was still mild. "I felt bad, but it wasn't because of anything Harry said or did. He hates those events and would quit going if he could, but the Ministry and the public still need him, so he goes."
His hand on the rail was almost close enough to touch. "Why did you feel so bad, then?"
"Because there were so few ways Harry and I were truly compatible. One of them was that we could be a beautiful public couple. I could dance on his arm as his famous Quidditch star girlfriend. After the accident, there was one less way we could connect, one less reason to be together." She shrugged, not proud of the years she and Harry had wasted on each other. "Even when we were unhappy—and that was most of the time—we were a hard habit to break."
Silent, they stood together watching Scarlet close her eye and put her head back down.
"I'm sorry I was late today," he said abruptly. "My mother needed me."
"It's okay." Her smallest finger brushed against his. "Come early tomorrow, and I'll put you to work."
"Oh, joy."
*
Draco became a regular fixture at the preserve over the following month.
He fed the dragons, changed bedding, made excellent suggestions for reorganizing the supply cupboards in both barns, and when it was noted with some concern that Blackjack's flame spout was not as hot as it should be, he produced the diary of a long-dead Malfoy who had been heavily into breeding dragons for the illegal sport of dragon baiting. The tips therein for herbal supplements put the molten blue-white core back in Blackjack's flame in under a week.
On the rare days when his mother needed him and he couldn't come, Ginny missed him horribly and her workload seemed suddenly heavier.
Ginny perched on one of the low stone walls, parchment on her lap and quill in hand. On the grass in front of her, Draco lay with his hands behind his head, twirling a blade between his teeth, and watching Friction swoop silently around the flight paddock.
"…but I think the reason she's not broody is that brat Firebug." He pulled the blade from his mouth and pointed it up at Friction. "Who could think about egg-laying with that little monster always making such a ruckus in the pen next door? If we move Friction next to Scarlet or Siena instead, I predict we'll see—"
"You're a fraud," she interrupted.
"Excuse me?" He sat up, dropping his grassy pointer.
"You're a fraud, a dragon-loving fraud." Ginny pretended to make a small notation on her parchment. "Coming down here every day with your long list of complaints, when all the while you love dragons just as much as I do."
Draco turned until he could face her cross-legged. "I'm a wizard, and my name is Draco. It would be pretty pathetic if I didn't love dragons."
"Do you realize how many official complaints you've filed with the Ministry since we set up the preserve? I do because Charlie looked it up." She toed his knee until he grabbed her ankle and squeezed. "Eighty-one! That's an average of one every day and a half." Ginny reached down and brushed his soft blond hair back from his forehead. "If you like dragons, what was the problem?"
"I don't want them here." His expression darkened. "This many dangerous creatures so close to my home are not good for Mother's nerves."
"But you've seen for yourself that it's as safe as we can make it."
"I'm still not happy about it."
Disgruntled, she set her parchment and quill aside. "Why not?"
Thoughtful, he gazed up at her for a moment. "You look beautiful sitting there."
Ginny blushed. It had been a very long time since Draco had last called her beautiful. When he held out his hand, she took it, and was surprised when he flattened it to the ancient wall and covered it with his own.
"Centuries ago, when the first Malfoys moved here, they made their home down here in this little valley." He looked past her, a light in his eyes as if he was seeing a vision far different than the modern buildings before him. "It was quiet and peaceful, and I'm sure it was beautiful. Being out of the way made concealing our presence from the local Muggles that much easier. Eventually, we were sick of hiding and built a new Manor on the hill, but this place was our beginning. These stones—" still hand in hand, they caressed the wall together "—are all that remain of the original keep. I couldn't prevent the Ministry from taking over, but I appealed to the Historic Division to protect these walls, and that's why you were instructed not to disturb them."
Draco brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the tips of her fingers, gritty from the stone. She felt a pang, knowing she had considered these walls an annoyance to work around when they were a vital part of Draco's history. No wonder he hated having the preserve here.
"This is why I fought you so hard," he said, confirming her thoughts. "To you, this is a safe place for your dragons. To me, these rocks are my bones, this land's my heart, and the breeze that blows through your hair is my breath. Yeah, I like dragons, but I love this patch of earth more."
He brushed away a tear she had not realized she'd shed and cupped her cheek.
"We have nowhere else to go," she rasped. "We were lucky to be sent here."
"I was lucky then too." His thumb traced her lips. "I wanted to see you here, sitting on these walls, living on this land. And though I'm betraying my ancestors, if I have to accept dragons to have you here, then accept them I will."
And when he kissed her, Ginny could have sworn the previously silent dragon flying above them roared in triumph.
*
Beside herself with excitement, Ginny watched Draco jog down the path from the Manor. In a black robe, loose pajama bottoms, and black boots, only his rumpled hair and white skin were visible in the moonlight.
"Ginny! Your owl almost broke through my window." He took the lantern from her hands and pulled her close to ravage her mouth. "Is this really it, or could I be so incredibly fortunate to have this be a booty call?"
She giggled, almost giddy. "Sorry, handsome." Her mouth tingled, and she indulged herself with another kiss before pulling open the door of the West Barn and tugged him inside. "This is it! Scarlet's egg is hatching!"
Whispering, holding hands, they crept up the aisle to the brooding dragon's pen. Next to the gate, the overturned keg Charlie had used earlier for a stool sat waiting, but Ginny knew sitting on something that low and hard would hurt her hip, so left it for Draco and crouched as best she could near the gate for a good view.
"Eeep!" she squeaked when Draco grabbed her and pulled her back onto his lap. Inside the pen, Scarlet chuffed in irritation.
"Sorry," he whispered in her ear. "The best seat's right here."
Mute, she nodded, eyes fixed upon the first egg to hatch at the Wiltshire preserve.
A series of yellow cracks had formed across the egg during the afternoon, first spotted by Hagrid and confirmed by Charlie. Ginny knew her two assistants were in the bunkhouse, wishing they could be here to witness the birth, but Ginny felt this moment was sacred and special. The only person in the world she wanted to share it with was Draco.
His arms crossed over her stomach, holding her close, and she covered them with her own. "Thank you for being here," she whispered.
"Thank you for wanting me here," he whispered back.
Over the next hour, they watched the unborn dragon squirm in its shell, looking for a way out. Scarlet blew a steady stream of steamy breath over the egg, and the hatchling strained upward, pushing the fractured shell out in search of heat. First a talon, than the pointed tip of a small tail, than an elegant snout broke pieces of the egg off the whole until, with startling suddenness, the rest of the egg fell away.
Ginny could have cheered.
Scarlet's blistering tongue scraped goo off the hatchling and the pint-sized dragon sneezed and fell backward. Ginny and Draco both laughed out loud, but when Scarlet cast a murderous eye upon them through the wards, they clapped their hands over their mouths and retreated to the storage room.
"It's like a miracle, isn't it?" Ginny wrapped both arms around Draco as he shut the storeroom door and hugged him tight. "I'm so happy!"
"You should be. This happened because you're taking such good care of Scarlet." He swayed Ginny back and forth, careful to not hurt her leg. "I would have brought a bottle of champagne with me for a celebration, but your kamikaze owl distracted me."
Ginny laughed and broke free of his arms, too excited to be still. She chattered happily as she wandered aimless through the small room, sometimes stopping and hugging herself in an effort to contain her joy. Eventually, though, she became aware that Draco was just sitting on a workbench, swinging one foot and gazing at the floor.
"Draco?"
"Hmm?"
Ginny stopped between his legs and tipped his chin up. "Are you all right?"
He smiled and dropped a kiss into her palm. "I'm fine. It's just…a new life. It's amazing, isn't it?" She nodded, and he continued. "That's one innocent little dragon out there. Will it grow up to be a good mum like Scarlet? A sweetheart like Friction? Or will it grow up and eat crusty old MacFustys for breakfast?
We're all innocent in the beginning, aren't we? It's just…it makes you think."
She bit her lip, but there was something she wanted to ask, something that had been on her mind since the first morning after Draco had spent the night in her little house and Charlie had watched him walk home.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Gin," her brother had muttered. "Hagrid may think the git's gone respectable, but he's still a Malfoy."
"Draco, do you ever have any regrets?" He raised one eyebrow. "I mean, are you ever sorry for the choices you made back then, back when we should have been innocent but that blasted war wouldn't let us be?
"Sometimes I am," she answered her own question. "I'm sorry I started dating Harry again. I'm sorry I kept my feelings for you a secret for so long." Her cheeks pinked in the dim light. "I'm sorry I didn't stand with you when your father was arrested."
Draco looked down at his empty hands. "Your brother had just been killed."
"Not by you."
"By Death Eaters, though." Reflexively, he touched his left forearm where Ginny knew the faded remnants of the Dark Mark still marred his skin.
Ginny covered his hand with hers. "I'm still sorry."
"I think I've become a better man than anyone would have guessed I could be." He was so quiet Ginny could still hear tiny moths striking the lamp above their heads. "If I had made other choices, maybe my life would be easier. If my father had made different choices, maybe he wouldn't have died in prison and my mother wouldn't be…" He trailed off, sighing.
"But, no. I don't have any regrets." His hands curved around her waist and drew her close until she was flush against him. "I won't—I can't be sorry for who I was. I hated everyone and I was proud of it. But you should know, Ginny," he pressed the sweetest kiss to her brow, "that who I am…and who I've become is because I loved you." He kissed his way down her nose, over her cheeks and jaw, before finding her mouth. "I love you still." His lips grazed hers as he spoke and she could feel his words down to her soul. "I never stopped."
"Draco…Draco…" Ginny pulled him off the bench and into her arms, and they sank to the floor together.
*
"Ew."
"Don't be a baby, Malfoy." Charlie folded his arms along the gate and smirked at the blond. "Dragon's aren't mammals and they aren't vegetarians. What did you think little Firebolt would eat?"
"Whatever I may have thought, it wasn't regurgitated venison." Draco curled his lip and turned his head away from the sight of Scarlet feeding her hatchling.
"I wish we coulda named her Edwina," Hagrid said apropos of nothing. "She looks more like an Edwina than a Firebolt ter me."
Ginny rested her head sleepily against Draco's shoulder and smiled. "Sorry, Hagrid, I already promised Draco he could name her. You can name our second hatchling."
"She's clearly a Firebolt." Draco glanced at the gorging hatchling and nodded decisively. "Anyway, what kind of name is 'Edwina the Dragon'? Might as well name her—"
"So this is where you've been, Lucius. For shame."
Draco froze, his face falling into expressionless lines, but Hagrid and Charlie both gasped. When Ginny turned, she understood why and also knew that Narcissa Malfoy was very ill indeed.
Draco's mother stood weaving in the doorway. From her white-blonde hair, braided and tied with girlish ribbons, down to her feet, in their incongruous high-heeled green dress shoes, Narcissa was a portrait of madness. A winter-weight robe slipped from one skeletal shoulder when she held out her arms to her son, and Ginny realized the older woman was naked underneath. Draco flinched, and when Ginny tore her eyes away from Narcissa long enough to look up, she saw his eyes were squeezed tightly shut.
"Lucius, how could you? Consorting with blood traitors and—" she looked at Hagrid, her lip curling into a Bellatrix-like sneer, "—beasts of all sorts. Throw them out!" Narcissa raised her arms above her head and shimmied in a bizarre dance. "Throw them out, my love, and we'll return to the Manor and bar the gates!"
"Mother." Draco left the others behind and walked toward his mother. "Mother, I'm not Father. I'm Draco."
Narcissa froze, arms still raised, robe billowing bat-like around her body. "Draco…Draco, yes, of course, you're Draco. Lucius would not have let this happen." She began to cry, and Ginny felt her stomach turn in revulsion and pity. "Oh, how can you be so ungrateful," Narcissa wailed. "After everything I did for you, how can you let these foul people bring their monsters here?"
"Mother…" Draco was close enough to touch when Narcissa's eyes blazed with a sudden hatred so intense Ginny had not seen the like since she fought this woman's sister during the Final Battle. Ginny cried out even before Narcissa's hand fell, but it was too late.
Draco never flinched as his mother's nails gouged his cheek.
"You want them to get me," Narcissa shrieked, backing away. Inside their pens, the dragon's stomped their feet and roared out warnings. "You want them to get me, so everything will be broken and you'll be free to forget. I won't let you, I won't let you!" Alternately screaming and wailing, she turned ran back up the path.
"Merlin's balls." Ginny heard her brother's whispered exclamation, but she was already running to Draco's side.
"Draco!" Ginny flung her arms around his shaking body. When Ginny pressed her face against his chest, she could hear sobs hitching his lungs. "Oh, Draco. Why didn't you tell me?" Her own hand shaking, she reached up with gentle fingers to staunch the blood dripping from his cheek. "We'll help her, we'll Floo St Mungo's right now."
"No!" Draco pushed her hands away. "She doesn't need St. Mungo's!"
"She needs somethin', Malfoy." Hagrid's beady black eyes were wet with sympathy. "A Healer's a good place to start."
"No! She has a Healer, and there's nothing anyone can do. I promised her she'd never have to leave Malfoy Manor. I promised her." Draco's voice broke, but when Ginny tried to embrace him he shrugged her off again.
"Stop it! Something happened to her when my father died, but she was all right until you showed up with these things." Draco grabbed a fistful of gravel and hurled it through the open barn door. Already agitated, the dragons roared again, and Firebug began slamming her tail against the sides of her pen. Charlie swore and disappeared back into the barn, wand raised.
"Draco, please!"
"I shouldn't have stopped." Draco raked his hands through his hair until it stood on end. "I should have kept fighting the Ministry until someone listened to me. Bloody hell, I could have bribed someone." He backed away from Ginny. "But no, I wanted you. I put you ahead of my family, and it broke my mother." He choked and turned on his heel, sprinting in the direction his mother had run.
"Stop!" Tears were already sheeting down Ginny's face. Before she could follow more than a few steps, however, Hagrid's massive hand gently pulled her back.
"Let 'im go, Ginny. Jus' let 'im go. He needs t'be with his mum right now."
"But Hagrid…" Ginny felt like panic had constricted her throat down to a pinpoint. "He needs me too. He…I…I love him."
"I know yeh do." He smoothed her hair down in the morning sunshine and let her cry.
*
Ginny shifted in her bed until she felt less pressure on her bad leg. Her movement knocked a small cascade of crumpled tissues to the floor.
On her bedside table, next to a photograph of Draco leading Friction out to the flight paddock, the hands on her clock slowly changed from one to two.
Ginny scrubbed fresh tears away with another limp tissue. Draco had not returned to the preserve after running away that morning. Her owl, letter unopened, had been sent back looking like it had been hexed.
Charlie's contact in the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau reported that the Malfoys had filed eight new complaints about the preserve today.
Ginny rolled onto her back. How could he be so stupid, she wondered. Why was he acting like this? She promised herself that tomorrow she would storm the Manor if she had too. She would—
Scarlet roared, and the sound pulsed through Ginny's open window, prickling her flesh with goose bumps and lifting her head off her pillow. She had never heard a roar like that before. She listened intently, but everything was calm…
---until the night was shattered by roars of pain and fear from the West Barn.
"Ginny!" She heard her brother scream.
Ginny threw herself out of bed and staggered to the window. The scene before her was like something from a nightmare.
The West Barn was burning down.
Ginny raced through her house and out the door faster than she thought she could run. Her wand was clutched tightly in her hand, but she already knew it was hopeless. There was only one kind of fire that could burn through the fireproof materials and wards protecting the building. There was only one kind of fire that could burn her dragons until they shrieked in agony, their cries tearing at her heart. It had to be Fiendfyre.
Demonic hands of fire clawed at the barn's roof. Enemy dragons sculpted from flame slammed into the walls, tearing them down and spreading destruction. Worst of all, a hissing flame snake slithered through the grass, burning everything it touched until it reached the corner of the storehouse and set it alight.
It would spread until the entire preserve was destroyed.
"Expecto Patronum!" Charlie's Patronus shot past almost faster than she could see, on its way, no doubt, to bring the Ministry to their aid.
Over the flame's rampage, Ginny heard Blackjack and Tinder roaring in the untouched East Barn. The males could hear the desperate cries from the females, she knew. "Hagrid!" she screamed. "The East Barn! Get them out! Hurry!" The smoke was almost too thick, but she glimpsed Hagrid's unmistakable silhouette racing toward the stud barn.
Behind Ginny, Scarlet screamed again.
Scarlet, Firebolt, NO! Ginny ran for the East Barn, spotting Charlie casting one ineffectual defense charm after another on the structure. A sound like cracking timbers was heard, and Firebug suddenly crashed through the weakened wall. Her leathery black wings were engulfed in Fiendfyre and she bucked wildly, trying to escape the pain.
"No!" Desperate to help, Ginny ran heedlessly close to the tormented dragon, but Firebug had already noticed Charlie and decided to direct her rage at him. "Charlie, look out!"
"Get back, Gin!" Her brother danced out of the way of Firebug's thrashing tail. "Don't go in there!"
But Scarlet screamed again, so much weaker than before, and Ginny ran through the hole Firebug had left in the barn.
Inside, the smoke was as black as evil's heart and impossibly thick. Ginny cast a Bubble-Head charm so she could breathe, but she was still blind and groping along blistering hot walls to try and find her bearings.
"Ginny!"
No, she told herself. It couldn't be Draco.
But a spell unlike any she had ever heard, a combination of song and poetry in a mix of languages she couldn't identify echoed eerily though the barn. It was sung in Draco's voice, and before it, the Fiendfyre began to recede.
"Scarlet," she whispered hoarsely. Finally finding the dragon's pen, Ginny pulled herself up onto the gate and peeked inside.
What had been her favorite dragon, the start of the breeding program, and the focus of Ginny's dreams was now a lifeless mound of sizzling flesh. It was too hot for tears. Ginny could only stare and let Draco's song wash over her.
A violent cracking split the night as the Fiendfyre, as if in a last-ditch effort to overcome Draco's countermagic, tore the roof from the barn.
Draco abandoned his song in a scream of denial, and Ginny looked up in time to see a fiery timber, as long as a Hebridean Black, falling straight toward her. She knew she couldn't dodge. She raised her wand and shrieked, "Reducto! just as Draco body-slammmed her and they both went skidding down the aisle.
The floor was so hot, Ginny could feel blisters rising and bursting on her skin. Around them, glowing fragments of the timber fell like meteorites, and she heard Draco hiss in pain as embers struck his back.
"It's over," she choked out. "Are you happy now?"
He knelt above her, and in the hellish light of the fire she could see his lips moving: Sorry…sorry…I'm sorry. But Ginny heard nothing as unconsciousness claimed her.
*
Ginny had never again expected to wake up and have Harry's face be the first thing she saw, but she couldn't say her ex-boyfriend's appearance was unwelcome. She struggled to sit up and felt every bone in her body protest.
"Easy, Ginny. You're going to be fine, but you had some burns and a bad blow to the head." Harry put his arms around her and helped ease her up. Once he was sure she was stable, he took a step back, and Ginny was able to take her first good look around.
She sat on a makeshift bed on the front porch of the bunkhouse, and from there she could see the charred and smoldering ruins that had been the West Barn, the storehouse, and her own little home. Teams of Aurors, in the same dark robes as Harry, and Ministry workers in the green robes of the Beast Division swarmed over what was once Ginny's preserve. Several of them were working together to try and shore up the roof of the East Barn, the only part of the structure that appeared to have been damaged by the Fiendfyre.
Heartsick, she put her head down on her knees so she wouldn't have to see anymore.
"Charlie and Hagrid?" Her voice was muffled against her legs.
"They're fine." Harry sat on the bed next to her. "Charlie had to have a couple broken bones fixed, and he has a few new burn scars for his collection, but he's already working in the barn. Hagrid got some of his hair and beard burnt off, but he's fine too. He's somewhere around."
Ginny nodded and turned her head until she could see Harry. "Could you find Draco and ask him to come talk to me?"
He sighed. "Malfoy confessed to starting the Fiendfyre."
She groaned and sat back up. "Yeah, I know."
Harry looked startled. "You think he did it? Because both Charlie and Hagrid are fingering Malfoy's mum."
"And I agree with them. It doesn't surprise me at all that Draco would try and take the blame, though." Briefly, Ginny described Narcissa's strange behavior yesterday morning and everything Draco had done to fight the fire.
"That pretty much confirms what Charlie and Hagrid said." Harry stretched out his legs. "Malfoy must have devoted a lot of time to learning how to fight Fiendfyre after watching it kill Crabbe. Without him, we would have had a much harder time tonight." He smiled sideways at her and pushed his glasses back up on his nose. "Once he was certain you were safe, he ran everywhere casting that charm of his." He shrugged. "Then after he was done, he came over, turned himself in, and confessed to starting the fire he had just risked his life fighting."
Ginny used Harry's shoulder to pull herself to her feet, gasping when her leg felt like it would crumple under her weight. She had seriously overextended her muscles tonight. "I need to go find him."
"Um…" Harry's cheeks pinked. "He's under arrest."
"What?!"
"I know, I know." Harry held up his hands as if he expected Ginny to punch him. "I don't think he did it, but we have a crime and a confession. We're looking for evidence, but right now there's nothing that links Mrs. Malfoy to the fire except for her weird behavior yesterday." He paused for a moment. "So, it's you and Malfoy now, huh?"
She lifted her chin. "It's always been me and Malfoy. Now let him go!"
Harry grinned. "Wait until Ron finds out."
She punched his shoulder. "Harry, please."
"We're doing our best, Gin. I'll try to make this work out for you." At that moment, Charlie and Hagrid thundered up the steps and a middle-aged Auror called for Harry from the corner of the West Barn. "Gotta go, Gin." He dashed off and her assistants took his place.
The news was almost as bad as Ginny had feared. Thousands of galleons worth of supplies had been destroyed when the storehouse burned; her office was a total loss and so were most of her possessions. Worst of all, of course, was the confirmation that Scarlet was dead and the news that they had also lost Siena and Firebug. The good news was that the males were fine, if still spooked, Friction had survived with severe burns but would recover, and that Firebolt was alive and unhurt. Hagrid had found the hatchling under Scarlet's body, kept safe from the fire.
Ginny put her head on her brother's shoulder and cried.
"I'm sorry to interrupt." Ginny, Charlie, and Hagrid turned and saw that Harry was back, accompanied by a gaggle of Aurors who appeared to be guarding a small bag. Ginny's breath caught because she recognized the look on Harry's face; it was the bright, excited look of an Auror about to catch his prey.
"Could you describe for me again what Mrs. Malfoy was wearing when you saw her yesterday?"
Together, Ginny and the others went through the details: the pink ribbons in her hair, the robe, and the dress shoes.
Harry grinned. "Do you still have trouble in high heels, Ginny? Are they bad for your leg?"
"Yes." Ginny's heart was pounding. "I don't even own a pair anymore."
"We found footprints all around the back of the West Barn, where the fire began. It's like someone was dancing back there or something. The prints are of a woman's high-heeled shoe. And then Johnsson found this." Harry took the bag and pulled out a broken heel, long, sharp, and Slytherin green.
"I think we've got her now," he said simply.
*
A suspicious house-elf with wriggling ears led Ginny through Malfoy Manor to a large solarium. Standing there with his back to the door, Draco was a dark shadow in a room of light. She stared for a moment, loving the sight of him after weeks apart.
There would be no trial for Narcissa Malfoy. Draco's mother had been judged insane and confined to St. Mungo's. Since the judgment, though, Draco had shut himself in his home and refused all contact with everyone. Even Ginny.
So she had come to him, making the long trek from the preserve to the Manor. Saying nothing, she crossed the room and stood beside him, looking through the windows at a field of roses.
"This was my mother's garden." He stared straight ahead. "When I was younger, she maintained it so carefully. When my father died, she stopped going out there." He swallowed hard. "It's a thicket of thorns now."
"But it's still beautiful." She reached out to touch his arm, but he shied and put distance between them.
"My mother's going to die locked up in St. Mungo's just like my father died locked up in Azkaban." His eyes looked dead in his white face. "I was such a disappointment to them. I could never be the Malfoy they wanted me to be. I could never be enough for you either."
She wanted to follow him, but for every step she took, he took one back. "Draco, please. I'm so sorry for all that's happened, but we can rebuild just like we did before."
"'It's over,'" he quoted. "'Are you happy now?' Everything we had between us burned in that fire."
"That's not true! Draco, I was crazed and hurt. I was talking about the preserve, not about us!"
He turned his back and leaned against the window. "There's nothing left, Ginny."
Ginny's eyes blurred with tears. She wanted to scream "why?" She wanted to shake her fists and rail at the heavens. Why would Fate kick her down again? Did everything really need to come down to time and chance? Would it always happen that they would be together only to be torn apart in the end?
She took a deep shuddering breath. "The fire hurt the preserve pretty bad. We lost half our dragons. We lost buildings. Everything I had burned in my house, including irreplaceable things like my family pictures. I'll never get them back, they're lost forever." She swallowed back a small sob. "It's not as beautiful as it once was; everything's scorched, and the flowers and grass are pretty much gone."
She crossed the room and took his arm then, turning him to face her. "But do you know what's still there? What the fire couldn't touch? The walls of your family keep. They're still standing, just as they have been for hundreds of years." He closed his eyes, and Ginny cupped his face between her hands.
"The way I love you is like those stones." Her voice was choked with tears but she pushed on. "It's indomitable, this love I feel for you. It's eternal. No fire could burn it away. Together, we could use it to build a future." She pressed close, despairing when his arms remained at his sides. She pressed her lips over his heart. "I love you," she whispered.
And she let him go and walked away.
*
Ginny levitated fireproof shingles to the roof of what would become her new cottage, nodding in acknowledgement when Charlie yelled down his thanks. Rebuilding was exhausting work, made all the harder by the fact that they still had dragons to take care of, one of whom was an orphaned hatchling.
She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. Did she want to make the thick liquid venison mixture Hagrid called a deer milkshake for Firebolt, did she want to magic liniment onto Friction's burns, or did she want to tackle the mountain of paperwork and grant requests waiting in her temporary office in the bunkhouse? If she were honest, she would admit all she really wanted to do was crawl into a hole and cry for a hundred years.
She wished she could recapture some of her enthusiasm, some of the pleasure she used to take in the preserve, but she was too heartbroken.
It had been a week, and she'd heard nothing from Draco.
In the flight paddock behind her, Friction chuffed and gave off a fluting trill. Astonished, Ginny turned toward the normally taciturn dragon.
Draco stood next to the paddock, one hand resting on the wards as Friction happily butted her head against them. Ginny wavered on her feet, wondering if this was a dream. His voice reached her, calm and affectionate. Dressed in jeans and a blue work shirt, he appeared casual and relaxed in a way she thought he might not have been since before the war. He glanced back and smiled when he met her eyes.
Shaken, Ginny walked to him, and when she lay one hand on the fence rail, he covered it with his own, blessedly warm and familiar.
"So, we're rebuilding?" His voice was gruff with emotion. "Do you really think it's worth it?"
"Yeah."
"It'll be a lot of hard work, I'm afraid."
She pulled her hand out from under his and stepped into his arms, hugging him tight and blinking back tears when he hugged her in return. "We have a strong foundation here. I think we'll make it."