Ginny looked at the clock as she finished wiping down the bar. It was half past eleven. In thirty more minutes, she would shoo the last of the inebriated patrons out the door. She checked to see where her boss was. If she could get away with it, she’d flip the sign on the front door to closed, so no one else would come in.

Her friends questioned her decision to work at The Masquerade, a bar where patrons wore masks or used cloaking spells to hide their identity. She couldn’t explain it. It just felt like where she should be.

Her family pointed out that she didn’t need the money. The twins were filthy rich from the joke store, and they had set up accounts for all of their family members. Her father retired early and now spent his time fiddling with Muggle devices. Ginny had tried staying at home and meeting her friends for lunch, but she soon became bored.

Harry hated her working at the bar. He said anyone who wanted to hide his or her identity was a bit shady. Ginny told him that she liked the idea of being anonymous. Everywhere she’d gone her entire life, she’d been recognized as a Weasley. Sometimes, she just wanted to be someone else. Harry had pointed out if she would set a date for the wedding, she would no longer be a Weasley.

He’d been right, but for some reason she just couldn’t do it. She told Harry that she had to figure out who she was, before she could marry him. Harry had retaliated at the next Weasley gathering by announcing that he had hired an official to marry them on the first of the next month. Ginny had tossed his engagement ring back in his face and stormed out.

Her family had been confused by this development. All Ginny could say was that Harry didn’t understand her. Everyone thought she was being immature, but she refused to give into their pressure tactics. It was soon a moot point. Harry went on a bender, hooked up with Lavender Brown, and Harry junior was born exactly nine months later.

Ginny found she didn’t resent Lavender. It was as if fate had pushed Lavender into Harry’s life, so that Ginny could start a new life of her own. So far, her new life consisted of a one bedroom flat and a job at The Masquerade.

The bell over the front door rang, and Ginny heard two men arguing as they entered.

“I don’t know why you like this place. It’s creepy. I like to see a person’s face when I talk to them.”

The second man said, “Haven’t you ever wanted to be someone else?”

“No,” the first man answered without hesitation. “I’m perfect just the way I am. People love me. Plus, this damn mask is uncomfortable.”

Ginny had snorted as she approached their table. Then, she apologized. “Sorry, it’s just that I agree with your friend here. Sometimes, it’s nice to be anonymous.”

The first man sighed. “I have worked hard to earn my reputation in work and at play. I like being a known quantity.”

The second man adjusted his mask so he could see better. “Could you bring us two cognacs?”

Ginny warmed the liquor, and then brought it to their table. She heard the first man say, “Why don’t you just change your name if you dislike it so much?”

The second man took his glass of cognac from Ginny and asked her, “Do you like your first name?”

“No, I don’t. My family puts a y on the end of it. It makes me sound like I’m five. If they use my full name, I sound like I’m eighty.”

The first man chuckled. “I believe you’ve found a kindred spirit.”

The second man looked at Ginny. “What name do you go by when you’re working?”

“I ask people to call me Nevra.”

“Why?” the second man asked. He seemed to really want to know, so Ginny told him the truth.

“It’s a shortened form of my name that I’ve always liked. I asked my family to call me Nevra when I was five, but they just laughed at me.”

“Family can be brutal,” the second man said.

The first man gave a cold sounding chuckle. “That is the truth.”

A shiver went down Ginny’s spine. “Why do I get the feeling you mean that literally?”

The second man sipped his cognac. “You’re obviously perceptive, Nevra.”

“I’m not sure there are many who would agree with you on that. Do you have a name you’d like me to use while you’re here?” she asked. She didn’t really need a name, but she was feeling a connection to the second man, and she wanted to be able to identify him if he came back another day.

The first man piped up. “I want to be known as Snape the Terrible.”

The second man chuckled. “Watch out, he may be in here. I think I want to go by a simple name. What do you suggest, Nevra?”

Ginny looked at what she could see of his face. His mask covered his hair and his eyes. He had a sharp nose and high cheekbones. His skin was pale. “I think you’d make a good Ian.”

“Ian it is then,” the second man told her.

Her boss hollered from the bar. “Ten minutes untill closing. Order your last round now, or risk sobriety.”

This announcement brought the usual laughter. Ginny worked her way around to the last of the patrons, and collected her tips. When she worked her way back to Ian’s table, it was empty. There was a hefty tip, however, which brightened her evening.


Over the course of the next few weeks, Ian stopped by the bar every evening and asked to speak with her. Ginny found she liked the attention. They discussed where they would live and what they would do if they were beholden to no one.

Two months into this new friendship, Ian sat at his usual table until all of the other customers had gone. Ginny approached his table with a sense of excitement.

“Ian, I have to lock up.”

He took her hand. “Sit with me for a minute.”

She sat, and the butterflies in her stomach flew in ever widening flight patterns.

“I would like to know who you are. I’d like to take you away on one of those fantasy trips we discussed.”

Ginny smiled at him. He reached for her mask, and she grabbed his hand. “Kiss me, first. I’m afraid you might not want to after you’ve seen who I am.”

Ian leaned over and brushed his lips against hers. He was tentative at first. When she didn’t move away, he slid his hand around her shoulders and pulled her closer. Heat seemed to shimmer between their bodies. When he started to pull away, Ginny uttered a single syllable, “More.”

That seemed to be all he was waiting for. He pulled her bodily onto his lap. His mouth skimmed down her neck, hitting her pulse points. His hands skimmed over her curves. She arched into his caress and marveled at how right this felt.

When he pulled back from her, she reached up and began to remove his mask. He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. “Say that you’ll go away with me.”

Ginny looked into his eyes and promised, “I’ll go away with you.”

He let her pull his mask off. She made a small sound of surprise. Then, she reached out and ran her hands through his white blond hair. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

Draco Malfoy stared at her with his piercing gray eyes. “You know me?”

Ginny smiled. “Not really, but I think a week in Fiji ought to change that.”

He smiled and reached for her mask. Ginny’s stomach clenched. She grabbed his hand. “If you’re disappointed and you change your mind, I’ll understand.”

“I won’t change my mind,” he told her. “What has come before doesn’t matter. You’ll always be Nevra to me.”

When the mask came off and her bright red hair came tumbling down, Draco could only stare. A cold lump settled in Ginny’s chest, and she felt tears come to her eyes. She made to stand up, and he caught her by the waist.

“What are you doing?”

Bitter laughter came from Ginny’s throat. “I saw the look on your face,” her voice broke as tears filled her eyes.

Draco held her firmly in place. “Stop it. Look at me, Nevra.”

Ginny stopped struggling, and she looked at his face. His eyes were a stormy gray.

“I was shocked to see that it was you. I can’t understand why you would want to be with me. My father tried to sacrifice you to Tom Riddle when you were ten. I was horrible to you in school. My family name is synonymous with evil.”

Ginny could hear the pain in his voice. “You aren’t evil,” she told him. “I know you helped The Order in the end.”

Draco looked down. “I didn’t do it, because it was the right thing to do. I did it to save my mother.”

Ginny reached out and brushed his cheek with her fingertips. “You’re twenty five years old. You aren’t that boy anymore. Just like I’m not the youngest child of the spotted Weasleys.”

A ghost of a smirk crossed his face. “I hate to point this out, but technically you are still the youngest Weasley.”

“Actually, I’m not. I have six nephews and two nieces. They are all Weasleys, and they are younger than me.”

Draco reached out and ran his fingers through her hair. “I see your point. Do you still want to be called Nevra?”

“I do. I’ve wanted to be called Nevra since I was a child. What about you? Are you Ian, or Draco?”


He seemed to think for a moment. “Ian is not a shortened form of Draco. I think it would confuse people when we went out if you were calling me by another name. They might think I’ve Confunded you.

Ginny pouted. “We are not supposed to worry about what other people think. We’re going to Fiji. Aren’t we?”

“What’s your schedule look like this week?” Draco asked.

“I can leave a note on the bar that I’m taking a week off.”

“You won’t get fired, will you?”

Ginny stood up and held out her hand. “It doesn’t matter if I do. I think I found what I was meant to find.”

“All right, Nevra. Write that note, and then we’re going to Fiji.”

“I need to pack.” Ginny told him as she scribbled a message on the back of a menu. Draco made this process difficult by coming up behind her and kissing the back of her neck.

“You don’t need to pack,” he told her. “We’re going to a private island. Clothing will be optional.”

Ginny laughed as she signed the note. “This trip is sounding better and better. How long did you say we’ll be gone?”

“I believe I said a month.”

***

Three months later, wedding announcements were mailed from Fiji. The article in the paper stated that Mr. Draco Malfoy and Mrs. Nevra Malfoy had no plans to return to England anytime soon. They thought it was best if they waited until after the birth of the twins to travel.


***

Ronald Weasley started seeing a therapist shortly after the wedding announcement arrived. The tick in his left eye is now barely noticable.

***

Strange whirling noises have been heard coming from the Malfoy Crypt.