Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all things Harry Potter.

A/N: This was written for wcoast_girl as part of the shardrive community on LiveJournal. She asked for post-Hogwarts D/G with a happy ending. I hope this will do. Also, I have only been to Vancouver twice, so I apologize if any of the details are wrong.

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Vancouver

Ginny Weasley wrinkled her nose in disgust as she looked about the small flat she would call home for the next eight months. She had chosen it because she wanted to be within walking distance of downtown, but couldn’t afford to pay much. Because nobody really knew what the Unspeakables did, it was easy for the Minister of Magic to talk about how important their work was but keep their funding to a minimum; even though she was there on Ministry business, Ginny had to pay her living expenses out of her own pocket. She had made the arrangements while still in London, and could now see why she had gotten such a good price. The flat was in the center of Vancouver’s red-light district.

Ginny sighed. The flat was small, dingy, and slightly smelly. The windows looked as if they hadn’t been cleaned since they were installed, the fixtures in the bathroom were stained with rust, and there was a spot on the bedspread that Ginny was particularly unwilling to identify. But it would have to do. She couldn’t afford anything better nearby, and she was exhausted. Ginny pushed away the offending bedspread and collapsed onto the ancient mattress. Despite the errant spring poking her in the back, she fell asleep almost immediately. She had had a very long day

Ginny had spent a full day at the office, finishing paperwork in preparation for her trip. She then took a Portkey to the Museum of Anthropology on the campus of the University of British Columbia, where it was still morning and she would be expected to put in yet another full day.

After Harry Potter finally defeated Voldemort, sacrificing himself in the process, Ginny had become fascinated by the ancient love-based magic he, and his mother before him, had used against the Dark wizard. If more had been known about such magic, she realized, Voldemort could have been defeated much earlier than he had been. Ginny and her family had suffered so much at the hands of Voldemort and his Death Eaters that when she left Hogwarts, she vowed to study ancient magic, hoping that what she learned would eventually stop other Dark wizards. Her family was shocked that she became an Unspeakable; they had always assumed that if anyone from their generation would do so, it would be Hermione Granger, who had instead taken a position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. But Ginny could be just as scholarly as Hermione with sufficient motivation. And her possession in her first year by the memory of the sixteen-year-old Dark Lord was certainly sufficient motivation. Now Ginny had come to Vancouver to learn more about the powerful magic that Canada’s First Nations had developed before they had been subjected to European influence.

Ginny had only a few minutes to explore the objects on display in the main part of the museum (including a particularly fascinating totem pole that the Muggles apparently couldn’t see), before she was greeted by Joseph Hall, the Head of the Mystic Division. He was plump and dark-skinned with flowing black hair flecked with white, and smiled at Ginny before leading her to the Division’s offices that were hidden beneath the museum proper.

Ushering her into his office, Joseph said, “Welcome to Vancouver, Ginny Weasley.” He gestured towards a chair then took a seat behind his desk, looking intently at Ginny.

“Thank you,” Ginny said, disconcerted by his stare.

“You have come here for a reason.”

“Yes,” Ginny said enthusiastically. “I want to learn about the magic of the First Peoples. You have never had a Dark Lord, and I would like to understand why.”

Joseph smiled enigmatically. “That may be your purpose for coming here,” he said. “But it is not the reason.”

Ginny was confused. What was the difference?

“You know, of course, that the basis of most ancient magic is love,” Joseph said absently, looking out of the magical window beside him.

Ginny nodded. “Of course.”

“The love of family,” he continued. “The love of friends. The love of a mate.”

Joseph paused and Ginny waited, not understanding his point. What he said was one of the first things that Edna Lovelace taught her when she began her training in the Department of Mysteries. She wondered for a moment if he thought she had come unprepared for her studies. But then he spoke again.

“Your purpose for coming here is to understand our magic, to bend it to your use.”

Joseph turned to look at Ginny with his piercing black eyes. “But you cannot do so without understanding all three kinds of love. The reason you have come is to experience that which you do not yet understand.”

Ginny bristled at the insinuation. “But…” she began.

“No,” Joseph said, cutting her off. “You may think that you understand, but you do not. Not truly.”

Ginny was confused. Of course she understood—she had experienced all three kinds of love, after all. She had loved her family all her life. She loved Hermione as if she was a sister, and if that were not the love of friendship, she didn’t know what else was. And she had loved Harry Potter unconditionally from the time she was ten years old. She had given her virginity to him in her fifth year at Hogwarts, so she was familiar with physical love as well. Joseph must be delusional.

“No,” Joseph said with a hint of a smile. “I am not crazy.”

Ginny gaped at Joseph. Could he read her read her mind? She quickly looked away to avoid his Legilimency. He chuckled.

“I do not need such tricks of the mind either,” he said kindly. “I have met enough people in my life to understand the way they think.”

Ginny blushed and looked back at the wizard. He looked deeply into her eyes for several minutes.

“You were drawn here, were you not?” Joseph asked abruptly.

Ginny nodded involuntarily. “How did…?”

“Our magic is old, but not as old as some,” he said with amusement. “Egypt, Japan, Peru.

And yet you came here. Why is that? Your instincts brought you here.”

Ginny sat quietly, looking at her hands. She didn’t want to admit that Joseph was right. Mrs. Lovelace had told her that Egypt would be a much better destination, that the magical history there went back thousands of years earlier and she had a much better chance of making a significant discovery. But something in Ginny had resisted Egypt, and had drawn her here instead, to Vancouver.

“And when you decided to come here, you opted not to find a flat convenient to the university, but near the heart of the city. Why was that?”

“I…” Ginny began, but did not know how to continue.

“You have good instincts, Ginny Weasley,” Joseph said, smiling. “Follow them.”

And with that, Joseph turned to the paperwork on his desk, leaving Ginny to find her own way to her flat.

***

Ginny woke suddenly, finding the room still dark. Her wristwatch told her that it was only four o’clock in the morning, which meant it was noon in London. She wouldn’t fall asleep again. Granville Street, outside her window, seemed to be quiet; it must be too late even for the prostitutes and sex shops that lined the block. Ginny looked once again around her decrepit flat and decided that it was as good a time as any to familiarize herself with the city.

The quiet was only broken by the occasional passing car or pedestrian, giving her an opportunity to gape at the architecture. The contrasts of Vancouver appealed to her—the sleek modern and fanciful Art Deco buildings standing side by side, and the cosmopolitan city in the shadow of the craggy mountains.

As dawn approached, Ginny made her way northeast to Canada Place, the conference center and observation point that jutted out into the harbor. She leaned against a railing to watch the sun rise.

After a few minutes, a man joined her at the railing. “It’s lovely, isn’t it?” he asked quietly. Ginny nodded without taking her eyes off the painted sky. Somehow she knew that he expected nothing more from her.

Once the sun had risen, and the colors faded, Ginny turned to her companion. “Do you come to watch the sun rise often?” she asked politely.

“Yes, every day,” he said, turning to look at her head-on for the first time.

Ginny gasped when she saw his face. Her hand dashed automatically to the wand in her pocket. He had grown an inch or two and his hair had darkened slightly since she had last seen him ten years before, but there was no mistaking that face.

“Malfoy?” she asked, shocked.

At her use of his name, Draco took a step away from Ginny. She saw his eyes flick to her face, then her hair, then all around, as if he was considering fleeing. But when Ginny trained her wand on him, he sighed and raised both hands in supplication.

“Weasley,” Draco said with resignation.

“Did you know that you are wanted in England?”

Draco shrugged. “I didn’t know, but I suspected it. Are you going to turn me in?”

“What?” Ginny asked sharply. “You aren’t going to fight me?”

“And how would you expect me to do that?” he asked with a hint of his contempt. “You are armed and I am not.”

“I’ve seen you duel, Malfoy. You may not have been the best in the school, but you never would have given up without a fight.”

“Ah, but to duel, I would need a wand. And mine is locked very safely away in a bank vault.”

Ginny’s wand dropped slightly at Draco’s claim, though she did manage to keep it pointed in his direction. “You expect me to believe that you, of all people, live as a Muggle?”

Draco sighed. “I’m not stupid, Weasley. I know better than to go near anything magical. How else would I manage to avoid capture for so long?”

Ginny considered this for a moment. What he said made a lot of sense. She knew that it was possible to monitor magical activity, and magic in a household without any registered witches or wizards would be considered very suspicious indeed. But the whole idea seemed so out of character for the Draco Malfoy she had known in school.

Draco must have seen her confusion. “It was either live without magic or die at the hand of the Dark Lord. I think the choice was clear.”

Ginny nodded, almost despite herself.

“So,” Draco asked impatiently, “are you going to turn me in?”

Ginny looked at him for a moment with wide eyes. She knew that she should do it; it was her responsibility as an employee of the Ministry of Magic. But something in her resisted. “Follow your instincts,” Joseph had said. She lowered her wand.

“Not today, Malfoy,” Ginny said primly, then turned and walked away, leaving Draco gaping after her.

***

That day, Ginny began to peruse the artifacts in the Mystic Division’s collection. There was one piece in particular—a small, oddly shaped figurine of a bear with her cub—that Ginny found particularly fascinating. She placed it on her desk so she could examine it more carefully later.

***

The next morning, Ginny again woke early, tossed and turned for a while, and decided to watch the sun rise. When she arrived at Canada Place, she was surprised to see Draco there. She stopped walking for a moment then deliberately moved forward to stand beside him.

“Malfoy,” Ginny said politely.

Draco nodded in acknowledgement, then turned back to the rising sun.

When the sun had risen, Draco turned to Ginny and asked, “Are you going to turn me in?”

Ginny gave him a long look, then shook her head. “Not today, Malfoy,” she said.

“Have a good day, then,” Draco said with a nod before walking away.

They followed the same routine every morning for the next week.

Then one day, Draco broke the pattern. Instead of saying, “Have a good day, then,” he asked, “Well then, would you like to get some coffee?”

Ginny might not have registered the difference, except that instead of walking away, Draco still stood expectantly before her.

“I… I’m sorry. What?” she asked.

“I said,” Draco said slowly, “would you like to get some coffee?”

“Oh,” Ginny said, flustered. “I… Well, yes, that would be nice.”

Ginny followed Draco to a coffee house nearby. They sat quietly together, sipping their drinks, but not speaking. When they both had finished, they parted amicably, but Ginny was left very confused.

Ginny’s confusion only grew over the next two weeks as she and Draco continued to watch the sun rise and drink coffee together each morning. Why hadn’t she turned him in? And why did she feel more and more comfortable with him every day? Granted, he was the only person in Vancouver that she knew before, but they had never been on civil terms at Hogwarts. So why did she almost enjoy the time they spent together?

Then one morning, after a sunrise hidden under a gray mist, Ginny’s curiosity got the better of her. “Why do you do this every morning?” she blurted out. “Even in the rain?”

Draco started at Ginny’s question, spilling a little of his coffee. He gave her a long, searching look. He was so still that she was sure he would refuse to answer, but then he relaxed and cleared his throat.

“When we first came here,” Draco began, “my mother and I had been moving from place to place for over a year.”

Ginny frowned. Narcissa Malfoy was there too? Ginny had known that she had been reported as missing, but she had never bothered to think that she and Draco might be together.

Ginny’s confusion must have shown. Draco continued amusedly, “Yes, Weasley. My mother was here, but not any more. The first thing I did after seeing you was to send her away. As far as the Ministry is concerned, she has never committed a crime, but that would certainly change if they found she had helped me avoid capture. I wouldn’t risk her safety in case you turned me in.”

Ginny nodded, but she didn’t understand—not really. If Draco had sent his mother away, why hadn’t he gone with her? Why would he risk his own safety? But Ginny was sure that Draco wouldn’t answer these questions, so she didn’t bother to ask.

“The stress caused my mother to sleep poorly, and we obviously didn’t have access to Dreamless Sleep potions. It was usually almost dawn by the time she fell asleep, and I took to leaving the flat to avoid waking her inadvertently. The first morning, I came to Canada Place on accident, and found it to be so compelling, I kept coming back.”

“That sounds familiar,” Ginny said quietly. She stared into her nearly-empty coffee cup for a moment, wondering what to say next. But Draco changed the subject to something innocuous, and they chatted awkwardly until the café began to fill with people.

After that, Ginny and Draco conversed over coffee more often than not. He told her about his work advising Muggles about their finances. She talked about her interest in ancient art, even if she couldn’t tell him the details of her research. They discussed books and music, which surprised Ginny as she had never thought of Draco as particularly cultured. When she said so, however, he just looked down his nose at her in his most condescending way and muttered something she couldn’t quite hear, but was sure was unpleasant.

They also talked about food and wine. Ginny wasn’t surprised that Draco appreciated gourmet food, but she almost fell out of her chair when he told her that he liked to cook. Apparently he and his mother had a hard time of it at first, as neither had ever lived without house-elves. But once Draco had realized that cooking was similar to brewing potions, he managed to stop burning tinned foods and to make meals from scratch. And he had very strong opinions about methods and ingredients. He and Ginny could argue about cooking for hours at a time.

One particularly gorgeous Sunday morning, after a heated debate about whether the ideal fish was salmon or halibut, Ginny found that she didn’t want to leave the café, despite the large group of patrons eying her and Draco and their empty cups. So she spontaneously offered, “How about if we go to the market at Granville Island, buy some of each, and have a bit of a cook-off?”

Draco blinked a few times, then his face spread into a slow smile. “You’re on…Ginny,” Draco said. “After all, nothing beats my halibut in cream sauce.”

Ginny grinned. “No, Draco, that’s where you’re wrong,” she said, eying him up and down.

“It’s about time that you learned that paler isn’t always better!” Despite her taunt, Ginny looked away uncomfortably; she was slightly disconcerted that she found Draco to be almost attractive.

Draco laughed, placing his hand on Ginny’s lower back as he guided her out of the crowded café.

***

That Tuesday, Ginny discovered a new closet in the Mystic Division. She was sure she had passed through that corridor hundreds of times before, but had never seen that particular door before. The closet was near bursting with artifacts. It took her most of the week to sort through it all, but in the end she decided it had been worth it. She spent hours poring over several interesting pieces that hadn’t been included in the Mystic Division’s inventory. But the piece that interested her most of all was a small figurine of two frolicking otters. She spent hours staring at it, somehow entranced. She placed it on her desk, next to the figurine of the bear and her cub that she had found during her first week at the museum. The two figurines seemed to be related to one another, but Ginny had no idea how.

***

After the great Halibut versus Salmon competition, of which there was no clear winner, Draco and Ginny made a point of cooking together two or three times a week. Sometimes, as she chopped ingredients or stirred a sauce, Ginny would think that she could get used to cooking with Draco in his gourmet kitchen with its spectacular view of English Bay. But she banished those thoughts, knowing that in December, she would have to return to England.

Ginny found herself spending more and more of her free time with Draco. At first, she refused to think about her motives, but as time passed, she realized that she actually liked him. This realization was somewhat shocking, considering their history, but as she had earlier, Ginny dismissed her reactions as stemming from the idea that he was a familiar face in a new city.

By the middle of August, Ginny was spending four or five evenings a week with Draco. One night, as he walked her back to her flat after a movie, he took her hand. He didn’t do anything else, or say anything, so she was unsure of what he meant by it. Was it just a friendly gesture, or did it mean something more? Did she want it to mean something more? She had found Draco more and more attractive as time passed, but that was surely just because of all the time they spent together. She didn’t want to examine her feelings too deeply, so she decided to pretend that it hadn’t happened at all.

But the next night, Draco held her hand again. Ginny was confused. Actually, she had come to expect confusion where Draco was concerned, but this exceeded anything she had experienced so far. The hand-holding quickly became habit, though the flutter Ginny felt in her stomach in response did not.

A couple of weeks later, Ginny invited Draco to her flat for dinner for the first time. When he arrived, he had brought both wine and a bottle of Cognac on the premise that if he had to spend the evening in her neighborhood, he would need lots of alcohol. After dinner, they settled on the only reasonably comfortable piece of furniture in the living room—a skanky loveseat that Ginny had tried to disguise with an afghan and throw pillows.

After a while, Draco reached out and took Ginny’s hand. Fortified by half a bottle of wine and a fair amount of Cognac, Ginny asked, “What are you doing?”

“I’m holding your hand,” Draco answered dryly.

“But why?”

Instead of letting go, as Ginny had assumed he would, Draco kept a firm grip on her hand. He brought his other hand to her face and traced a finger lightly along her jaw. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his voice low.

“No,” Ginny moaned, her eyes fluttering shut. Then she realized what she had said, and they flew open. “Yes! I mean…”

“What do you mean?” Draco asked in the same voice.

Ginny was flustered beyond belief. She had drunk more than usual, and Draco’s fingers, which had now moved to the shell of her ear, were frightfully distracting. “I… I just…,” she began, then finished in a rush. “I just want to know why!”

“Because…” Draco said, moving towards Ginny. His face was closer to her than it had ever been. She could make out small flecks of blue in his grey eyes. Ginny’s breath caught. “Because…” he said once again, cupping her cheek in his hand. And then he kissed her. It was sweet and tentative, but Ginny melted into it without thinking.

After a short time, Draco pulled away, resting his forehead against Ginny’s. “Oh,” she said in a small voice.

“Does that answer your question?” Draco asked. Ginny nodded breathlessly, then twined her fingers in his hair, pulling him in for another more passionate kiss.

***

Ginny spent the next three months in a daze, thinking almost always of Draco. She saw him nearly every day, now, but they spent less time cooking and more time snogging. She managed to work, or at least make it look as if she were working, the rest of the time. She tried to ignore the way Joseph’s eyes danced in amusement as he passed by her desk.

On the first day of December, Joseph invited her into his office. He stood looking out the window as she took a seat. “It is nearly time for you to leave us, Ginny Weasley,” he said quietly.

Ginny gasped at this statement. She had known this on some level—her stay in Vancouver had only been approved through mid-December—but she had been so caught up in Draco that she hadn’t thought about leaving.

“However,” Joseph continued, as if he hadn’t heard her, “I can convince your Ministry to allow you to stay longer if you feel you are making sufficient progress.”

“Am I making sufficient progress?” Ginny asked doubtfully, thinking of her lack of activity during the previous months.

Joseph turned to look at her, his dark eyes piercing hers. “Are you ready to go home yet?” he countered.

“I’d like to see my family again,” Ginny said, thinking of Christmas at the Burrow. But her mind inevitably turned to Draco. “But…”

Joseph nodded. “You need not answer now. Go home and think about it, then let me know once you have decided. If you would like to stay, you may return to your family for two weeks’ holiday. Then I will arrange for your stay here to be indefinite, funded by the museum, of course.”

Ginny gaped at Joseph. “You’d do that?”

Joseph nodded. “You came here for a reason, even if your Ministry does not know it. I will not send you away until you have finished your business here.”

“But when will I be finished?” Ginny asked, utterly confused.

“You’ll know when it is done,” Joseph said enigmatically, turning back to the window. “And we will reassess your situation then. Have a good holiday.”

Ginny had more questions for Joseph than ever, but she knew a dismissal when she heard one. She could only hope that she would eventually understand.

***

That evening, Ginny was quiet and withdrawn, contemplating Joseph’s offer. She wasn’t ready to leave Draco yet; she was still much too infatuated. And then there was her work. She had learned much more than she had expected about First Nations’ magic, but she knew that there was something more that she was missing. Every now and then, as she sat at her desk, toying with her bear and otter figurines, she would feel as if she was on the verge of it, whatever it was. But then the moment would pass. Ginny was reluctant to let it go until she figured it out. But she missed her family: her mum’s fussing, her dad’s gadgets, the twins’ pranks—even Percy droning on and on about his current project at the Ministry.

Ginny was distracted from her thoughts when Draco sat beside her on the sofa, handing her a glass of wine. “What’s wrong?” he asked with a slight frown.

“I am supposed to return to England in two weeks’ time,” Ginny answered. She felt Draco stiffen beside her and pull away slightly.

“Oh, I see,” he said in an oddly formal voice. “When do you leave?”

“That’s just it,” Ginny said with a sigh. “I’m not sure if I’m going to go.” She felt Draco relax slightly, but he did not move closer. “Well, that’s to say that I am going to go back, at least for Christmas.”

Draco’s face was blank of any expression. “And after Christmas?”

“Joseph offered to let me stay on here indefinitely if I want to come back.” Ginny turned her head toward the window. She said wistfully, “I’ve never been away from my family for so long. I miss them. But…”

“Come back,” Draco said forcefully. Ginny turned back to him and was startled by how intensely he was staring at her. He repeated, “Come back.”

Ginny wasn’t sure how to react. She hadn’t been prepared for this. “I…” she began, but Draco interrupted her.

“Ginny, I… I don’t know quite what it is I feel for you.” He raised a hand to her cheek. But I do know I have never felt this way before. I would be miserable without you. Please come back.”

Ginny sat, dazed, looking into Draco’s eyes. He had never been so open with her before. A warm, tingling sensation spread throughout her body, and all thoughts of her family fled. She wasn’t sure exactly what she felt for Draco, either, but she wanted to find out where their relationship would lead. “I’ll come back, Draco,” she said quietly, and was rewarded with one of his most brilliant smiles and a kiss that took her breath away.

***

Christmas at the Burrow was everything Ginny expected it to be: colorful, chaotic, and loving. She enjoyed nearly every minute she spent in the crowded house. However, it was hard for Ginny to tell her parents that she was planning to return to Vancouver after the New Year. Molly tearfully begged Ginny to stay, but she was adamant. She eventually convinced Arthur that the work she was doing was too important to abandon. Molly, on the other hand, only gave her blessing when Ginny blushingly admitted that she was seeing someone in Vancouver.

Ginny told her parents that her “young man”, as Molly put it, was a Muggle, which she figured was close enough to the truth. Ginny did not mention that just before she left, she had moved all of her belongings into Narcissa’s old room in Draco’s flat. Draco had convinced her to do so, arguing that keeping her flat was stupid, as all she ever did there was sleep. Another advantage of the arrangement was that once a registered witch lived in his flat, Draco could begin to practice magic again, and it would be attributed to Ginny. But Ginny knew better than to tell any of this to her parents, especially as British wizarding society was all abuzz about Narcissa Malfoy’s return to England the month before. Apparently she had moved back into Malfoy Manor and had been living quietly there ever since. Ginny wondered if Draco knew about this and made a mental note to tell him when she returned.

***

One day in late February, Ginny wandered aimlessly through a second-hand store on the West Side. She had planned to use her lunch break to find a birthday present for Ron, but she couldn’t keep her mind on the task. She had been giddy and inattentive since Valentine’s Day, when she had told Draco that she loved him. He had returned the sentiment, and just the thought made her heart beat faster.

Ginny’s mind was firmly on Draco when she first laid her hand on the small dove figurine. She drew back from it quickly, startled by the shock of its magic. She looked at it carefully. There was something familiar about it, but it took her a moment to figure out what it was. Once she did, she rushed to purchase the figurine and make it back to the museum as quickly as possible.

Ginny was out of breath by the time she arrived at her desk. She picked up the bear and otter figurines that were already there and held all three together in her hands. Yes, they were definitely a set—they almost seemed to fit together. But Ginny’s excitement diminished when she realized that she had no idea what their purpose was.

“Ah, so you’ve made a breakthrough, I see,” Joseph said, peering over Ginny’s shoulder.

Ginny shrugged. “Yes, though a limited one. They go together, I’m sure. But your guess is as good as mine as to why.”

“Why don’t you take them with you? Perhaps then you will understand more quickly.”

“But the bears and otters belong to the museum!” Ginny protested.

Joseph shrugged. “They will be more useful to the museum if you discover what they are for, will they not?” Ginny nodded. “Then by all means take them.”

***

Over the next two months, Ginny carried the figurines around in her pocket. She always seemed to be touching them, and she would examine them carefully when she was sure she was alone. She was certain that they held deep meaning and great power, but she still didn’t understand their nature.

Meanwhile, living in the same flat was bringing Ginny and Draco ever closer. Ginny still slept in Narcissa’s room, but she found it harder and harder to restrain herself with Draco. Much to Draco’s frustration, Ginny had been strangely reluctant to make their relationship sexual. This confused her, as she wasn’t a virgin, but she still felt as if the time was not quite right. It was almost as if she were waiting for some sort of sign.

One day in early May, as they watched the sunrise together as usual, Draco turned to Ginny and took her hand in his. “It was a year ago today that we found each other here,” he said quietly. “Did you realize that?”

Ginny shook her head, surprised.

“When my mother and I first arrived in Vancouver,” Draco continued, “I knew I would never want to leave. There is something about this city that fits me. It was such a relief when my Dark Mark disappeared. I knew that the war was over and I would be safe here.”

Ginny was listening intently. It was rare for Draco to speak so candidly about anything.

“Then you came,” he said, “and I thought it was all over, that you would have me sent to Azkaban. But you didn’t. I immediately made plans for my mother and me to leave the city, but when it came down to it, I couldn’t go with her.” Draco paused as if contemplating how best to word what he wanted to say. “Something… compelled me to stay. Something about the city, and something about... you, Ginny.”

Ginny felt a tear roll down her cheek. Draco wiped it away with the back of his hand. “Just as I knew then that I would never want to leave Vancouver, I know now that I never want to leave you.” He took a deep breath. “Ginny, will you marry me?”

Ginny’s heart leapt, and she threw herself into Draco’s arms. “Yes!” she said. “Yes, yes, yes!”

After a very long celebratory snog, Ginny and Draco realized the disadvantages of proposing marriage at dawn; they both had to go to work. As soon as she arrived at the museum, Ginny told her coworkers the good news and sent an owl to her parents. But she couldn’t sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. A smiling Joseph sent her home early.

Ginny arrived at the flat full of anticipation. Surely their engagement was the sign she had been looking for; tonight would be very special indeed. She ventured cautiously into Draco’s bedroom. She had never been in it before, not wanting to intrude on his privacy, and not wanting to tempt herself any more than necessary. But now that she had made up her mind that she was ready to have sex with Draco, keeping away from temptation was no longer an issue, and maybe she could find some way to surprise him.

Ginny looked around curiously. The room was as nicely decorated as the rest of the flat, mostly in blues and greens. A patch of red, however, caught her eye. As she moved closer, she saw that a piece of First Nations artwork hung above a chest of drawers. This surprised Ginny, as she hadn’t seen any similar art elsewhere in the flat.

But the artwork itself shocked Ginny even more than the idea of Draco owning it; she had never seen anything like it. It was a round plaque of some kind, with figures carved in relief. Ginny gently removed the plaque from the wall so she could examine it more carefully. The carving consisted of three scenes arranged in a circle: a bear and her cub, two frolicking otters, and a dove. Ginny gasped and her hand automatically reached for the figurines in her pocket. She held them up to the plaque and was only mildly surprised to see that they fit exactly into the relief carvings. So the set had not been complete, after all, she thought.

Just then, Draco entered the room. He seemed slightly startled to find Ginny there, but she was too fascinated by the plaque to notice.

“What is this, Draco?”

“I’m not sure. I bought it a day or two after Mum and I arrived in Vancouver. I don’t really care for First Nations art in general, but something about that piece has always appealed to me.”

Ginny nodded. “Just like the figurines appealed to me. I wonder…” But Ginny trailed off as Draco’s arms slid around her from behind. She felt his lips on the side of her neck.

“Would you like to go out to celebrate?” he asked. “I can pull some strings to get a table at Lumière.”

Ginny sighed, then turned around in his arms. She ran her hand down his chest. “Or maybe we could get takeout and spend the evening at home.”

***

When Ginny woke the next morning, she was startled to see light pouring in through the window; they had missed the sunrise for the first time.

Ginny rolled over to find Draco watching her. “Good morning,” he said with a smile. “I thought you would never wake up.”

“Mmm,” Ginny said, stretching. “Well, you did give me quite a workout last night.”

“But it was worth it.” It was not a question.

Ginny laughed at Draco’s tone of voice. “Yes, it was worth it, you arrogant cad.”

Draco offered to go out and bring breakfast back to the flat. Yawning, Ginny pulled on one of Draco’s spare bathrobes. As she was about to leave the room, her eye caught the plaque and figurines Draco had distracted her from the night before. She brought them into the living room, where the light was better and she could examine them more carefully. At first, Ginny was careful not to jar the plaque, so the figurines would not be dislodged. But after a moment, she realized that they weren’t moving at all. At some point in the night, the figurines had fused themselves to the plaque. What kind of magic was at work here?

In the living room, Ginny set the plaque on the coffee table, then went into the kitchen to start the coffee. Before she could look at the plaque again, however, someone knocked on the door. Ginny went to answer it, wondering who would visit so early in the morning.

“Dad?” she asked, opening the door. “What are you doing here?”

Arthur hugged Ginny tightly, then followed her into the flat. “Well, we got your owl and I just had to come see you and meet your fiancé,” he said, settling himself on the sofa. Ginny’s stomach lurched. She had been so excited about their engagement that she had sent the owl to her parents without thinking about what to tell them about her fiancé. Now she would have to come up with something quickly.

Ginny smiled weakly, and sat in a nearby armchair. “How did you manage to get here so quickly?” she asked, trying to buy herself some time.

“Oh, well, last year, Basil from the Portkey Office had a bit of a run-in with some walking shoes that wouldn’t stop walking. I helped him out with that, so he was happy to make a Portkey for me this morning. Your mum wanted to come too, but we decided that wouldn’t be such a good idea, as this trip isn’t really authorized.”

“I see,” Ginny said, trying to think quickly.

“Tell me about your young man, Ginny,” Arthur said, clearly unaware of her discomfort.

“Oh, er, he’s the one I was seeing over Christmas.”

“Ah, yes. The Muggle. What does he do?”

“He helps Muggles invest their money.”

“Really? Is that anything like the goblins?”

Ginny was about to answer, but she was distracted by a noise at the door to the flat. She stood quickly. Draco must be back with their breakfast. Maybe she could head him off before her father saw him. But before she had taken more than a step, the door burst open, and Draco stepped inside.

Both Arthur and Draco froze as they recognized each other, but Arthur reacted first. “Ginny, get back!” he yelled. “It’s Malfoy! He’s dangerous!”

Arthur jumped to his feet, wand raised. Before Draco could do anything more than drop the food he was carrying, Arthur shouted, “Stupefy!”

“No!” Ginny yelled. She instinctively leapt to block the spell, even though she knew she was too far away to do make a difference.

But at the same time Ginny moved, a brilliant white light appeared from the plaque on the coffee table. The Stunning Spell seemed to bounce off the light and back onto Arthur. He collapsed in a pile on the floor.

“Dad!” Ginny said, running to her father’s side. She reached for her wand, then realized it was still in Draco’s bedroom with the clothes she had worn the day before. “I’ll need to wake him up.”

“Maybe we should talk about how to keep him from trying to Stun me first,” Draco said, trying to catch his breath.

“Oh, you’re right,” Ginny said, settling down next to Arthur.

“What was that, anyway?” Draco asked.

“The plaque! It must be some sort of protection charm. The spell rebounded, just like when Voldemort tried to kill Harry. I need to talk to Joseph!” Ginny started to move towards her bedroom, where she kept her owl, but Draco stopped her.

“What will Joseph say when he sees me?” Ginny could see the fear in his eyes. But Ginny had learned to trust her instincts over the past year.

“Don’t worry, Draco. I wouldn’t be surprised if he already knows all about you. And if not, he won’t say anything to the authorities. And if he does,” she added fiercely, “I’ll go to Azkaban with you.”

***

When she returned to the living room, Draco had moved Arthur to the sofa, where he would be relatively comfortable. He held Ginny tightly until Joseph arrived.

Joseph didn’t blink when he saw Draco, only nodded at him in greeting. He took one look at the room and seemed to understand what happened. “I see you have finally put all of the pieces together, Ginny Weasley,” he said, nodding at the plaque.

“You knew?” Ginny asked, dumbfounded. Why hadn’t he told her ages ago?

“I suspected, but this is something you must learn for yourself.”

“But I still don’t understand,” Ginny said.

“Take another look at that,” Joseph said, gesturing to the plaque. “Your father can wait.”

Ginny looked once again at the figurines she knew so well: the bears, the otters, and the dove. Now they were all one, it seemed, fused together by some unknown magic. Her mind strayed to the first conversation she had with Joseph, more than a year earlier. He had told her that the basis of ancient magic was love—love of family, love of friends, love of a mate. She looked again at the figures. That was it! She was amazed she hadn’t seen the symbolism earlier. For the First Peoples, the bear and her cub stood for family, the otters for friendship, and the dove for love. They had fused together in the plaque—what could that mean?

Ginny looked up from the plaque, confused. But then she saw Draco and she finally understood. “Family, friendship, and love, all in one,” she said reverently. “Now that we are getting married, I will have all of that in Draco. That’s why I couldn’t understand before.”

Joseph nodded. “And now that I do, the charm was activated,” Ginny continued.

“Yes,” Joseph said. “You might also think about when you found each of the pieces.” Ginny considered this. She had found the bear almost immediately, but that wasn’t surprising since she had always known the love of family. The otters had come just after she and Draco had started to truly become friends. She found the dove while thinking about how much she loved Draco, and how much he loved her. The plaque, the glue that held them all together, had been with them all along, but Ginny hadn’t found it until they had committed to each other. Ginny smiled in satisfaction. It all made sense now. Except that she and Draco weren’t truly family, not yet at least.

“The charm is used to protect a family, right?” Ginny asked. Joseph nodded. “But then it shouldn’t have worked yet, not until we are married.”

“True,” Joseph said, smiling mischievously. “But I daresay the magic doesn’t understand legalities. It no doubt thinks that you are already married.”

Ginny blushed, realizing that Joseph must know how she and Draco had spent the previous evening. She changed the subject. “Should we wake my dad now?”

“I think a Calming Draft would be in order before we wake him,” Joseph said. “Luckily, I happened to bring one with me.” As a precaution, Ginny sat in Draco’s lap while Joseph administered the potion and woke Arthur. He would be less likely to attack Draco if he might hit Ginny with a curse instead.

Arthur sputtered as he woke, but Joseph spoke quietly to him, and he calmed quickly. He winced as he looked at Ginny and Draco, but did not reach for his wand.

“Your Muggle fiancé is really Draco Malfoy?” Arthur asked Ginny after a few minutes.

“Yes, Dad. I didn’t know how to tell you. And he has been living as a Muggle.”

Arthur looked doubtful. “It’s my duty to report him to the Ministry, you know.”

Ginny sighed. “I know, Dad. It was my duty, too, but I decided to give him a chance instead.” Ginny looked at Draco and smiled. “I’m glad I did.”

Ginny turned back to Arthur. She said seriously, “I’ve made my choice. Now it is time for you to make yours. I can’t stop you from reporting Draco. But if you decide that’s what you need to do, we will leave tomorrow and you will never see me again.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Arthur asked.

“Follow your instincts,” Ginny said. “But remember that the charm that protected Draco wouldn’t have worked if we didn’t both truly love each other.”

Arthur looked carefully at Ginny. Draco wrapped a protective arm around her, and she relaxed against him. Arthur took a deep breath. “Very well then,” he said. “But I will expect to receive an owl from you every week, and if I don’t get one, I will change my mind.”

“Thank you, Dad!” Ginny said, hugging him tightly. Draco awkwardly shook Arthur’s hand.

Meanwhile, Joseph watched the whole scene with his enigmatic smile.

***

Ginny and Draco were married soon after Arthur returned to England. They stayed in Vancouver, where their protection charm held the place of honor on their coffee table. Joseph offered Ginny a permanent position at the Museum of Anthropology. She continued to research ancient protective charms and was eventually able to develop one which, though not as strong as hers, also didn’t require the same level of self-discovery to activate it. Soon, every family in the wizarding world had one in their home.

Ginny visited her family twice a year, without her “Muggle husband”. Only Arthur and Molly knew his true identity; the rest were told that he was uncomfortable around too much magic. After a few years, Ginny brought her twins to visit as well. And if some of her brothers were surprised by Tina’s blonde hair or Edward’s stand-offish attitude, they never told Ginny so.

Unbeknownst to Draco and Ginny, however, Arthur had gone to visit Narcissa Malfoy. Based on what she told him about Draco’s actions during the war, he had begun to make discreet suggestions to a few well-placed people at the Ministry. Urged on by a sense of forgiveness that had been lacking during the immediate aftermath of the war, and Arthur’s incessant prodding, the Wizengamot had eventually reopened Draco’s case.

On the seventh anniversary of Ginny’s arrival in Vancouver, during their daily visit to Canada Place, Draco, Ginny, and the twins were greeted by an owl that seemed to fly out of the sunrise itself. It bore an official-looking letter addressed to Draco. Ginny froze at the sight of it, and Draco opened it reluctantly. But once he did, his face lit up in happiness. It contained a notice that based on the lack of evidence against him, the Wizengamot had rescinded the order for Draco’s arrest. He was now free to practice magic, and to return to England if he chose.

The envelope also contained a note from Arthur Weasley. “Congratulations,” it read. “I’m sure that you will want to stay in Vancouver, but you should know that Molly and I will expect you and your mother at the Burrow every Christmas from now on!”