Draco Malfoy swung his weather-worn cloak about his shoulders, shielding his tattered and ill-fitted clothes, and readjusted the strap of his knapsack as he entered a dingy pub two miles out of Eastbourne. The sounds of people laughing, faint music, and mugs sliding across the bar counter rang in his ears.

It was a cool, breezy day in April. Draco had been out of Azkaban for only a few months, having wandered the country aimlessly since. His pockets were almost empty and he looked as though he could’ve used a good shave, but he didn’t care. His hair hung long and wild about his face. His face had aged in the seven years since he’d last seen Hogwarts, but the devious luster in his grey eyes had remained.

A man waved him over to a table by a window. He clasped the hand of his old friend, Blaise Zabini, before taking a seat. The table included two unfamiliar faces.

“Malfoy,” he muttered with a slight wave before taking a seat. A deck of worn cards was strewn about the table. Loose change and a few bills lay in front of each man.

“Samsel, Ricketts,” Blaise said, motioning towards the other men. The two men eyed him suspiciously.

“It’s Euchre. Have you played before?”

Draco smirked. “Of course. What’re we playing for?”

“Glad you asked,” Blaise said, returning the smirk. “Ricketts?”

Ricketts reached into his pockets and pulled out what appeared to be two scraps of parchment. On closer inspection Draco saw that they were two tickets to ride in the third carriage of the brand new wizarding ship, the MMS Potter.

Draco stifled a bitter laugh. “Well they weren’t discreet about their beneficiary in the least bit.”

“It’s the first ship exclusively for Wizards. It’s bound for Nova Scotia,” Samsel said defensively.

“All right, Malfoy, you deal,” Blaise said impatiently.

Draco tossed each player their cards and revealed the up-card, a nine of spades.

“This’ll be rough,” Blaise said, his eyes dancing wickedly.

The two men muttered incoherently while Draco’s expression mirrored that of his friend’s.

Twenty minutes later Draco and Blaise emerged from the pub, each clutching a ticket in their hand.

“When does this ship set sail?” Draco asked, using a hand to shield his eyes from the blazing sun.

Blaise checked his watch. “In ten minutes.”

Draco quirked an eyebrow at him before the two of them laughed. There was nothing humorous, only excitement and the promise of adventure as the two friends secured their little belongings and broke into a run towards the dock harboring the MMS Potter.

Draco took in the view as he kept close behind Blaise’s heels. Sovereign Harbor was predominantly Muggle. He could see numerous beach houses lining the sands. It had been some time since he’d been parted from his own wealth, but he still mourned the loss of it. He noticed a house with a red tiled roof and a balcony overlooking the sea. It reminded him of his own family’s beach house, before it had been confiscated by the Ministry. He shook his head at the memory and looked forward, towards the blue-green ocean waters.

“Where’s the ship?” Draco called out after Blaise, as they neared the boatyard.

“It’ll be like King’s Cross, mate, we can’t see it just yet,” Blaise responded over his shoulder.

Blaise had suffered the same way Draco had. He’d lost his entire fortune after the war and had struggled to make ends meet since. Unlike Draco’s family, he hadn’t had the misfortune of spending time in Azkaban. He still had the mischievous charm in his handsome face. His hair was cut close and he had thinned considerably.

When they arrived at the boardwalk, Draco had to catch his breath. The view was amazing. There were Muggles getting in and out of boats and seagulls soaring above their heads. The ocean was like something Draco had only seen in his childhood. He noticed a yacht preparing to set sail and his heart felt heavy with thoughts of his mother and father.

“Mother, I’m bored,” a six year old Draco pouted, taking a seat across from his mother. His arms were folded across his chest. “May I use my wand?”

“I’m afraid not, dear,” his mother chuckled. “Why don’t you help your father steer the ship? I’m sure he’d love the help.” The large hat on her head did little to stop the breeze from blowing her long blonde hair about her face.

“I did. But now I’m bored.”

His mother sighed and rose to her feet. She beckoned him to follow her and he clambered to his feet, having to walk faster to keep up with his mother’s long legs. She leaned across a railing overlooking the sea.

“Isn’t it beautiful, Draco?”

“No,” he said stubbornly.

“It is. Look, you can see a school of fish down there.”

Draco peered over the edge of the railing to get a good look.

“When we get closer to shore, I bet we can see dolphins.”

“What are dolphins?”

“Lovely animals. You’ll see.”

“Will there be peacocks as well?”

His mother laughed. “No, why would you think that? Peacocks live on land. You know that.”

“I know, but I thought maybe Father would want to see some.”

She ruffled his hair before draping an arm around his shoulder. They stood like that for a while, watching the sun set, only leaving when the house-elf that had accompanied them called them for dinner.

“There,” Blaise said breathlessly, pointing towards a stairwell. They clambered down the steps two at a time and found themselves in a dank, poorly lit tunnel used for storage. There were a few workmen mulling about with supplies.

Blaise made his way towards a noticeable crack in the concrete floor. He turned sharply to his right and walked three steps until he reached a solid wall covered with old fishing nets, broken masts, and torn sails.

“All right, just like in the old days,” Blaise said with a grin. Before Draco could say anything, Blaise took off towards the wall and vanished.

Draco took a deep breath and clutched his knapsack tightly. “Well, here goes nothing.”

Draco had his eyes squeezed shut when he ran through the wall and didn’t open them until he collided into Blaise.

“I know you love me, but I don’t swing that way.” Blaise winked at him, straightening himself out.

Draco looked around him. It was as though they were still in Sovereign Harbor, but there wasn’t a Muggle in sight. Instead he found wizards and witches bustling about, wearing anything from magnificent robes like Draco had once worn, to the ragged ones he had become more familiar with.

“Isn’t she a beauty?” Blaise whistled.

Draco finally tore his eyes away from the commotion to stare at the impressive ship anchored to the nearest dock. It was the largest ship he’d ever seen with snow-white sails held up by looming, extraordinary masts, a gold plated stern, and elaborately detailed nautical carvings of various magical creatures hung off the hull.

He rolled his eyes after seeing the name, MMS Potter, magically glowing on the side of the ship for all to see.

“Is that tosser going to be on this ship?” Draco groaned as the two of them made their way towards the boarding entrance.

Blaise shrugged. “Probably. But we’ll be having too much fun in the 'peasants’ quarters to run into him and his lot above deck.”

Draco winced. He knew that Blaise was trying to pass off their social descent lightly, but the truth was that they would both be bitter about it for a quite some time.

They found a line for a small table in front of the ship’s boarding ramp. A big sign for Wand Inspection hovered above the table. Draco took his wand out and fingered it.

“Is that the same one you’ve always had?” Blaise asked Draco as he took his own out.

Draco shook his head. “No, the Ministry snapped mine in half after the war. I purchased this one after I was released.”

A wizard standing in front of them jumped slightly upon hearing Draco’s words. He peered over his shoulder at them nervously.

Draco rolled his eyes.

When they approached the table they were greeted by two elderly wizards. They were both dressed smartly in matching blue robes. The wizard on the right, thin and skeletal, tipped his spectacles onto the edge of his nose as he examined at Draco warily.

“Name?”

“Draco Malfoy.”

The wizard held Draco’s gaze for a moment before scribbling some notes down on a piece of parchment.

The one on the left, stocky with ears too large for his head, took Draco’s wand and placed it on a scale. Tiny green sparks flew from the wand.

“All clear,” he said.

After Blaise’s wand checked out, they climbed up the ramp to show their tickets to an attendant. Draco took one last look around him, exhaling deeply, before stepping onto the ship.

Before he had a chance to take in his new surroundings, a smiling witch greeted the two of them.

“Welcome to the MMS Potter. I am Katrina, Guest Services Supervisor,” she said cheerfully, her smile stretching ear-to-ear. She looked to be a few years younger than Draco. “If you could please show me your tickets, I will direct you towards your cabins and provide you with an overview of the ship’s available activities.”

Blaise and Draco held out their tickets for her to see. He noticed her smile falter ever so slightly when she noticed just where they’d be staying. She quickly composed herself and rifled through a folder in her hand.

“And there you are. You’ll find a lift down this way to take you below deck.” She motioned to her left. “If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to summon the Lower Deck guest services representative, Hughie.” The two of them each received a glossy pamphlet with moving pictures of the activities available for visitors in the second carriage.

“May I see one for the Upper Deck guests?” Blaise asked, giving Katrina the same eerie smile.

She looked taken aback. “Well…I…your available activities are detailed in the pamphlet I just-”

“I know that love, I’m just curious is all. Is there a problem?”

“N-no- it’s j-just unusual,” she stammered, fidgeting with her name badge. She flushed and handed him a second pamphlet. Blaise took it with relish.

He laughed as they headed towards the lift that would take them to the lower decks. “Seven years ago that woman would’ve been groveling at our feet and demanding that Harry-bloody-Potter himself carry us to our chambers.”

“Yeah, well things were a bit different seven years ago,” Draco said quietly.

Draco tried to not let the vast array of amenities available to the Upper Deck guests bother him. Unfortunately, Blaise took much pleasure in rattling off the information from his second pamphlet.

“Blimey, get a load of this,” he said, “Three swimming pools, two of which are indoor and heated, spa and salon facilities, hot tubs, jacuzzis, a professional golf course, two night clubs, three dining halls, a ballroom, a casino, a movie theater…what’s that?”

“It’s a Muggle device that allows you to see theatrical performances on a large screen. Sort of like our photographs,” Draco replied.

“Like a telly?”

“Yes, except much bigger.”

“Bloody hell, we need to hang around up here, mate,” Blaise said, a longing look in his eyes.

“Well, what’s available for us?”

Blaise opened their pamphlet. “A dining hall, two pubs, a disco…well, that might be nice, yeah?”

Draco sighed and grabbed a hold of both of Blaise’s shoulders. “Look at me.”

His friend met his stare.

“It doesn’t matter what we do, what our beds looks like, what we eat for dinner, or what kind of Meade they serve. We’re here to have a good time. We’re the same ol’ gits with lighter pockets, ‘tis all.”

Blaise sighed and gave him a small smile.

They headed towards the lift Katrina had directed them to. Draco watched all the Wizards excitedly taking in their surroundings. There were children hanging off the ledges with parents trying to restrain them. Young and old couples walked about, holding hands. A group of young boys were pretending to duel with toy wands. It seemed as though none of them had a care in the world. They wore the best of robes, shiniest of shoes, and adorned flawless smiling faces.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my two favorite Slytherins,” a voice broke into Draco’s thoughts. He looked up to find a tall red haired man staring at the two of them. He had a smug expression on his face as he folded his arms across his chest.

“Weasley,” Blaise said, nodding curtly.

“How’d you manage to get on board?” Ron Weasley asked, a glint of suspicion flitting across his eyes.

“Stowed away, of course,” Draco said, smirking at him.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Ron grabbed Draco’s robes roughly by the collar. His eyes were blazing. “Now see here, Malfoy. There better not be any funny business going on.”

Draco kept his expression cool. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Let go of him.” Blaise sneered.

“The same goes for you,” Ron said, staring Blaise down. He released Draco before stomping off.

“Well, that was quite the reunion,” Blaise said, scowling after Ron.

“I think something’s going on,” Draco said thoughtfully.

Blaise looked curious. “What?”

“Weasley looked hot and bothered about something.”

“Gee, Malfoy, you don’t suppose…and I’m going out on a limb here…it was seeing the likes of us that set him off?” Blaise snorted.

“No, he seemed perturbed about something else.”

“Whatever, mate.” Blaise shrugged. “Our records have been as good as clean for years now.”

They headed towards the lift and began their descent. When they finally reached the bottom, they found a wide hallway that seemed to stretch on for miles. A sign hung above them. Directional arrows glowed next to each destination.

Guest Cabins
Recreational Facilities

Draco glanced at his ticket. Cabin 230. They headed down the hallway in search of their cabin. Draco couldn’t help but to notice the different people they passed by. Most appeared to be normal wizards and witches, but he spotted a few dodgy characters as well. A wizard in dark robes and a tattered hat grumbled a greeting towards the two of them. He held a cage that unmistakably carried a baby dragon.

An elderly witch that reminded Draco of Trelawney from Hogwarts stood in the middle of the hallway, staring at the ceiling curiously. She kept mumbling, “Curious, very curious” to herself.

Two identical witches wearing indecent robes waved at Draco and Blaise with catty smiles. Draco shuddered involuntarily. Blaise laughed.

They found the door to their cabin. It was a plain, rusty colored door decorated only with their number in bronze lettering.

Blaise twisted the door handle open. The room wasn’t entirely bad. In fact, it was much better than what Draco had experienced recently. It was large enough for two occupants to stay comfortably. The room was furnished with two large beds, each covered in a deep blue bedspread. There was a dimly lit lamp in-between two plush armchairs, a dresser, a walk-in closet, and a bathroom. There were two pieces of chocolates sitting on a nightstand with a simple message, Welcome to the MMS Potter!

They even had a window that gave them a view of the horizon. Draco was relieved that they weren’t underwater.

Blaise threw his bag down and flopped down onto a bed. It creaked in response. “Lucky for us the room comes with two beds.” He rolled onto his side so that he was facing Draco, who was now sitting in one of the arm chairs. “And they’re roomy enough for any lady friends we might meet.”

“What happened to that girl you were seeing a while back?” Draco asked, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

“Nothing,” Blaise said simply.

“What do you mean ‘nothing’?”

“I mean she wasn’t very interested in a piss-poor bloke like me.”

“Blaise…”

“Look, Draco,” Blaise said sternly as he sat upright. “I mean no offense, but you’ve been in Azkaban all these years. You have no idea how bad it’s been. We all know my mother had more Galleons than she knew what to do with. But her record was clean. We didn’t associate with your lot so much.”

Draco cringed.

“But my last stepfather did. Selfish old arsehole." He shook his head to himself. "And when the Ministry went on their Death Eater rampage, they seized our assets. I was left with nothing, Draco. I’ve been struggling to make ends meet since. I was never branded a Death Eater, and yet I’m treated like one in society. Nobody wants to hire me. I’ve been working odd jobs, traveling from place to place. Sure, I make it seem like it’s all fun and liberating, but it’s not. I know I’d probably have it better outside of Britain, but I can’t seem to leave this place.”

Draco was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, mate.”

He didn’t know what else to say.

A sea breeze swept Ginny’s hair across her face. She ran her fingers through her red locks in an attempt to tame them. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. A hand grazed her back.

“We’re setting sail very soon,” Harry said from beside her. She turned to stare at him. He was smartly dressed in maroon colored robes and the ocean’s gleam reflected off of his glittering eyes.

“I haven’t seen the rest of the family,” she said, looking around her.

“They’re settling in,” he assured her. There was a moment of silence between them as they gazed at the habor, watching the last of the passengers hurrying up the ramp. “I’m really excited, Gin. We’ve all needed this.”

Ginny knew what he meant, and didn’t need to ask for clarification. It had been seven years since the war and the wounds caused by it were beginning to ache less. The wizarding world seemed much different after Voldemort had finally died. The first few years had been filled with an eerie quiet as everyone mourned the loss of loved ones and tried to rebuild their lives.

The Weasley family was still recovering. They were strong, each and every one of them, but they would forever be haunted by Fred’s death. And while they had grown accustomed to Bill’s scars, he was still a constant reminder of what life had been like.

Ginny had finished school at Hogwarts and began playing Quidditch for the Holyhead Harpies. She loved it. She found that her passion for the game and the intense training and rigor involved allowed her to escape the somber life waiting for her once she dismounted her broom for the day. She and Harry had resumed their relationship after the war, and she cared for him deeply, but too much had changed. The war had aged them in a way they could never fully grasp. She found herself standing at his side for comfort’s sake. Harry was constant. He was a man who loved her and that was all she needed, at least, that’s what she always told herself.

So to give the people something uplifting, Harry had proposed a wizard’s cruise. Such a concept was unheard of and was met with reservation. But Harry insisted that everyone needed to relax and enjoy themselves. People needed to remember that life could be good, too. She admired his enthusiasm and watched as he made preparations for a year. And the MMS Potter was to set sail that day with 2,000 wizards and witches aboard.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Harry kissed her temple. “I’ve got to make sure everything is set with the captain. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Ginny wrapped her fingers around the ship’s railing and leaned over for a better look at the boarding passengers. She could see wizards and witches levitating their bags behind them as they hurried their pace, parents hauling their children behind them and…

Is that Draco Malfoy? Ginny strained forward to get a better look. Why on earth would he be coming onboard? No, it can’t be him. Didn’t he just get out of Azkaban? This guy was dressed shabbily and his hair was long and disheveled. But then again, that shock of platinum blond hair wasn’t found on just any wizard’s head…

Ginny turned around to face the passengers on the ship. She spotted her father with the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. They were deep in conversation and their faces appeared grave. Ginny wondered what they were discussing.

“Dad, Kingsley,” she called out as she joined them. Her father stopped talking immediately. Kingsley, however, was always more subtle. He smiled at Ginny and patted her on the shoulder.

“Ginny.” He smiled. “How have you been?”

“Just fine,” she answered. “This is some ship.”

“It definitely is,” the Minister mused, looking around him.

“Er, Ginny,” her father began. “I think Fleur is unpacking, do you think you could help her get settled in?”

Ginny wanted revert back to her childhood and throw a fit at her father’s obvious attempt to make her leave. Instead she nodded and left the two men alone.

She found Fleur doing exactly what her father had said. Their cabin was spacious enough for the entire Weasley family. One wouldn’t have believed it was for only four occupants. Fleur, who was six-months pregnant with their third child, was hunched over a luggage stand, sorting through her belongings. Victoire, now six, was sitting on a small bed, reading a magazine. Dominique, a rambunctious child at three, was standing on her tip-toes, trying to get a better look outside the cabin’s window.

Both girls smiled at Ginny as she walked in. “Aunt Ginny!” Dominique barreled into her and Ginny picked up the little red haired girl into her arms. The family had all said how much she resembled Ginny as a little girl.

Fleur turned to face her. “Hello, Ginny! I am so glad zat you are here. I could use some help.”

Fleur looked breathless and her face was pink. Ginny had always thought Fleur was beautiful, but pregnancy made her glow even more. “Sure, what can I do for you?”

“Dominique has been very fussy, could you take her outside for a bit?”

Victoire dropped her magazine. “I want to go outside, too!”

“Why not? The more the merrier.” Ginny smiled at her nieces. “In fact, let’s see if we can find Teddy.”

Victoire beamed at her. “Oh yes, let’s find Teddy! I think he’s with Auntie Andie.”

The three of them headed out with Ginny holding their hands. She hadn’t the faintest idea where Andromeda and Teddy were staying, but it was just her luck that a blue haired boy about Victoire’s age jumped out of a cabin not too far from Fleur’s.

“Rawrrr!” he growled at them, barring his teeth and waving his arms about him wildly. Victoire giggled, but Dominique’s hand quivered in Ginny’s.

“Teddy, it’s not nice to scare people like that,” Ginny said, ruffling the boy’s hair. It was amazing how much he was beginning to resemble Remus.

“I’m sorry,” he said genuinely, lowering his hands. His hair turned a dark brown.

“Well, Teddy,” Ginny began, “we’re going out onto the deck. Would you like to join us?”

He grinned at her. “Yeah!” He grabbed Victoire’s hand and the two of them started sprinting down the hallway.

Dominique called after them, tugging on Ginny’s hand to quicken her pace. “Wait!”

Ginny had a hard time keeping the three children together once they’d gotten outside in the sunlight. Victoire and Teddy, whose hair was back to blue, skipped around the deck, playfully pushing each other. Victoire was just as beautiful as her mother. Her white blonde hair was tied into two pig tails and her deep blue eyes mirrored the ocean.

Dominique tugged on Ginny’s robes. “Aunt Ginny, what’s that?”

She looked towards the direction the chubby little finger pointed at. “That’s a seagull, sweetie. They’re birds of the sea.”

“She looks just like you.” A voice drawled from behind Ginny. She turned around to face Draco Malfoy.

Ginny was dumbfounded. I knew it was him! He looked completely different from their Hogwarts days, and yet not so different at all. His blond hair had grown out and had lost its youthful sheen. It hung back in a ponytail. His face was thinner and his gray eyes appeared haunted and made Ginny shiver slightly. He no longer wore the impressive signature robes of a Malfoy, and instead dressed like a…commoner who’d been through a rough patch. But whatever wear and tear he’d endured over the years hadn’t diminished his handsome looks.

“You can stop gaping at me anytime, Weasley.” He let out a small sound that took Ginny a moment to register as a laugh.

“Oh, Malfoy,” she said dumbly. “This is my niece, Dominique.”

“I could’ve sworn she was yours.” His eyes dropped to her left hand where he found what he’d been looking for – a large diamond on a thick gold band.

Ginny refused to take the bait and divulge information about her personal life. She crossed her arms across her chest. “How’ve you been?”

“Just fine,” he said, although there was a hint of sarcasm present. “And yourself?”

“Great.” Before Ginny could stop herself, she added quickly, "Why are you here?"

Draco laughed again. "Same reason everyone else is on this ship. To have a good time."

"I see," she said, eying the blond wizard carefully. Victoire and Teddy came running up to them.

“Aunt Ginny,” Victoire said, panting, “They’re going to set sail!”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to miss that! Go on and I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

Victoire grabbed Dominique’s hand and the two girls took off. Teddy hung back, eyeing Draco peculiarly. He held Ginny’s hand possessively.

Draco’s eyes widened. “How many do you all have?”

Ginny stared at him. She wasn’t sure whether he was trying to be rude. After all, the size of her family had been a source of ridicule for the Malfoy family. When Draco didn’t sneer at her, she relaxed. “Quite a few actually, Victoire and Dominique are sisters. This is Teddy, he’s…”

Ginny paused for a second. Merlin, I’m introducing Teddy to one of the only family members he has left. No, she reassured herself, they’re not really his family.

“He’s Remus and Nymphadora’s son.” She watched Draco’s face with anticipation.

Draco blinked, but kept his face expressionless. “Hello, Teddy.” He offered the boy his hand.

“Teddy, this is Draco Malfoy. He went to school with Harry and me.” Teddy took Draco’s hand reluctantly, but then a look of realization dawned on his face as his hair turned green, as it did whenever he was excited.

Draco retracted his hand in surprise. “A metamorphmagus?”

Ginny nodded. “Like his mum.”

Teddy continued to stare at Draco. “Hey…” he began, but couldn’t seem to finish his thought.

Ginny’s heart sank. He knew who Draco was. Surely Andromeda had told him about his living family members. She stared at Draco expectantly, waiting for him to react. His mouth opened slightly as if to say something.

Before either of them could say anything, a high-pitched scream pierced her ears. “Aunt Ginny! The ship is leaving!”

“Coming!” Ginny called back. There were so many people gathered on the deck now that she didn’t want to lose sight of her nieces. “It was…um, nice seeing you, Malfoy.” Draco nodded in return as she grabbed Teddy’s hand and pulled him towards the girls. She watched Teddy give Draco a last lingering look.

“Aunt Ginny,” the boy said, dragging his feet in an attempt to get an answer from her. “Was that man my cousin?”

Ginny reluctantly stopped and let out a sigh. She lowered herself to her knees so that she was at eye level with the boy. She rubbed his arms affectionately. His honey brown eyes seemed to stare deep into her soul, as if pleading for the truth. “Yes, he was.” She waited for the string of questions to pour from his mouth – Why haven’t I met him before? Does he know who I am? Does he not like me? Do I have more family?

But instead, Teddy merely said, “Oh.”

“AUNT GINNY!”

“Let’s go before the girls worry,” she said, giving his arms one last squeeze before straightening up. His eyes were dark, but he gave Ginny a lopsided smile.

“Minnie, please be careful,” Ginny said, steadying the little girl, who was straining to see over the edge of the ship.

“Look, Aunt Ginny, seagulls!” she turned to smile at her aunt.

“We’re moving!” Victoire squealed. She looked hopefully at Teddy who looked quite sullen. “Teddy! Look, the water!”

He brightened up for his friend and leaned over the edge of the railing to point out the fish swimming beneath them.

Ginny eyed the boy warily for a moment. Maybe it would be best if Harry spoke to him later.

She looked around the ship. There had to be hundreds of wizards and witches on the deck as they waved at friends and family members on the pier. The sound of cheering became one prolonged rushing sound that drowned out the crash of the ocean waves as the ship set sail. Some people had begun to release sparks from their wands, which was met with gales of excitement. She could feel Dominique jumping up and down with enthusiasm.

Ginny spotted Ron and Hermione a few feet away, each holding the hand of little Rose, a wobbling toddler.

“Aunt Ginny,” Victoire asked, turning to face her. “Can’t all those people on the dock just apperlate onto the ship?”

Ginny grinned. “It’s Apparate. And no, they’ve made sure the wards have been closed.”

“So nobody could get off the ship either?”

“No. But why would they want to?”

“I don’t know.” Victoire shrugged. “What if they got bored of the ship?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure you guys won’t get bored. If you do, just let me know.” She winked and tugged one of the girl’s pigtails affectionately.

Ginny wrapped her arms around herself and shivered involuntarily. She took a deep breath and stared at the blue sky. The earth seemed to be revolving before her eyes. The sudden increase in the ship’s speed made her feel queasy.

“Hey squirt, you all right?” her brother Charlie said as he come up beside her. When he noticed her body sway a little, he reached his arms out to steady her. “Whoa. I think the ocean’s getting to you.”

“Y-yes, I think so,” she said shakily, holding a hand to her head.

“You go rest; I’ll look after the rugrats for you.”

Ginny vaguely nodded in acknowledgment before she headed towards her cabin. As she stumbled her way through the numerous witches and wizards that were still milling about the deck in excitement, she couldn’t help but feel a tiny sense of dread tingling through her body.

Draco leaned against the ship’s guardrail and stared out at the ocean thoughtfully. The breeze blew through his hair, whipping it about his face. The rubber band that was supposed to hold his shaggy hair together was useless.

The ocean seemed to go on for miles. There wasn’t a single speck of land in sight. The brilliant sun captured the various blue-green hues of the water, inviting an adventurous swimmer to immerse themselves in it.

He liked the openness of the ocean. It was a stark contrast to his days in Azkaban where he’d grown accustomed to sitting in a confined space for prolonged periods of time. Looking out at the ocean gave him the hope of endless opportunities.

He missed his mother. She would’ve loved to have been standing there with him, watching the sun as it prepared to set. Her golden hair would’ve been blowing about her face, just as his was. And she would’ve laughed, her eyes dancing. He could picture her white teeth as she did so; the music of her laughter comforting him. Her forehead would’ve reddened slightly from the heat of the sun, and her small chin would’ve been titled upward ever so slightly, as it always was, with pride.

Draco was having a good time. He couldn’t say that he was happy. Oh no, he didn’t think he could ever feel that again. In fact, he didn’t think could even remember what it felt like to be happy. It was an alien concept to him. But he was definitely satisfied. He’d bumped into several familiar faces, most of whom chose to ignore him, but some who were genuinely pleased to see that he was doing “well”.

He smiled as he thought back to his encounter with Pansy Parkinson earlier that day.

“Draco Malfoy!” his former housemate called out after him, dragging a pudgy boy with sand colored hair after her. He looked to be about four. “I never thought I’d see that face again.”

She extended her hand to shake his, but when he made contact, she pulled him into an awkward hug, still holding onto the boy.

“Pansy Parkinson,” he smiled genuinely when she released him.

She blushed slightly. “Actually, it’s Pansy Bletchley now.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, all the while still smiling. “Miles…really? Well, how about that.” He hadn’t seen Miles Bletchley in ages. They’d played Quidditch together in school.

The little boy made an incomprehensible whimpering sound that made the two of them look down at him suddenly, as if they just noticed he was there.

“Mummy! I need to…” he began, and turned a dark shade of crimson.

“What is it, sweetie? Mummy is talking to a friend.” Pansy rolled her eyes apologetically. “I don’t know where that worthless house elf is. She’s supposed to be looking after him.”

“I presume this is your child?” Draco asked. He’d never thought Pansy to be the mothering type.

She looked embarrassed for a moment. “Oh! I’m sorry. Draco, this is Malcolm. Malcolm, say hello to Draco. He’s an old school chum of Mummy and Daddy’s.”

The boy screwed up his face in defiance. It was remarkable how much he resembled his mother.

“Malcolm, you’re being very rude. Do you need a time out?”

Malcolm wailed in protest before scowling at Draco. “Hello,” he mumbled.

Pansy looked around her. “Where is Misty?” She looked flustered.

“Mummy,” Malcolm cried as he tugged on the sleeve of Pansy’s expensive robes. “I NEED TO GO POTTY NOW!”

Draco didn’t know if he should be disgusted or he if he could laugh. Pansy turned red.

“I must get going. Malcolm is out of control. It was really good seeing you,” she said. She leaned in to the plant two kisses into the air around his head before dragging her son along.

A twinge of sadness swept over him as he realized how many years of life he’d missed out on. His classmates had all moved on with their lives, having settled down comfortably with new families, and burying the past behind them. He, however, had to rebuild from scratch.

Draco rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. The deck was too warm to be wearing Wizarding robes. Instead he wore a striped white polo on Muggle khaki trousers. He’d grown accustomed to wearing such clothing since he’d been released from Azkaban. Muggle clothing was cheaper and had become a fad among the lower classes. He shuddered involuntarily. It was still difficult to accept the fact that his position in society had plummeted in seven years. He was now one of them, a simple, plain commoner with only a prison record and an ugly tattoo on his left forearm to separate him from the masses.

The old friends he’d run into on the ship had been polite enough to refrain from commenting on his attire. But that didn’t stop them from gaping at his long hair, pointing out what he’d heard many times before – how much he resembled his father. He’d grown over the years, as had everyone else. He was tall, broad shouldered, and surprisingly tan. His skin had darkened after meeting with the sun for extended periods of time after his release from prison. Daphne Greengrass joked that he looked like he’d been vacationing on the beaches of Tuscany. He’d also finally grown into his features. The little shard of dignity he had left in him told him he was quite handsome. But the other thing people were too scared to point out in him was the haunted look in his eyes. He was told from day one in Azkaban that the look never really disappeared. Every time he looked in the mirror he saw a defeated, tired man.

Draco watched the golden sun increasingly begin to blur around the edges as it began its descent. He headed towards the lift that would take him below deck where he would meet Blaise in one of the dining halls.

He found his friend sitting at a small table while casually looking through a menu. He didn’t bother to look up when Draco took a seat across from him.

“I’m thinking roast beef. What do you say?”

“Sounds all right. I think I’m going try some curry.”

“Hmm, sexy,” Blaise said thoughtfully. “Where are you coming in from?”

“Above.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow at the brief response.

“I was taking in the view, nothing special.”

Blaise shrugged. “Whatever, mate. I went to the gym.”

Draco snorted. “When did we become queer?”

“I didn’t have the luxury of spending time in Azkaban until I had a body that witches fantasize over, okay? I have to compensate.”

Draco smirked. It was true. The reason he turned the heads of many women was because of the grueling work they’d made him and the other inmates do at Azkaban.

When they’d finished their meal, their waitress, a mousy witch with short, brown hair and beady eyes, approached them. She had a smile plastered on her face, quite similar to the one the guest services representative that had greeted them on their first day had had on her own face.

“Would you mind filling out a comment card, please? This will ensure that our services are-”

Blaise held up a hand to silence her. “No thanks.”

She looked crestfallen and looked to Draco hopefully.

He nodded absently.

The fake smile returned and she handed him a piece of parchment.

“Don’t I need a quill?”

The woman searched through the pockets of her uniform. “Er…I don’t seem to have one on me.” She didn’t look apologetic.

Draco rolled his eyes. “I think I may have one.”

He rifled through the pockets of his pants and found a Muggle-style fountain pen his grandfather had given him years ago. The gold lettering on the pen spelled out A. Malfoy. It twinkled as he wrote, which it did every time the pen was in use.

When he finished filling out the parchment, the woman took it from him and mumbled her gratitude as she took off.

“What a strange bint,” Blaise said, taking a swig from his glass of red wine.

Draco nodded in silent agreement.

“Want to go dancing?”

Draco smirked again. “I told you. We’ve become queer.”

“Piss off, you wanker.” Blaise scowled.

The two rose to their feet and left the dining hall.

“You sure you don’t want to join me?” Blaise asked him, eying a blonde witch as they headed towards the lobby.

Draco shook his head.

“Seriously, mate, you’ve looked a little out of sorts today. It may do you some good to come out tonight.” Blaise walked a few steps ahead of him, and Draco knew it was to avoid a serious conversation.

“What do you mean?” Draco asked slowly, trying to fall into step with his friend.

“I don’t know. Have you been sleeping well?”

“We’ve only been here one night,” Draco responded.

Blaise stopped and waited for Draco to catch up. He ran a hand through his dark curly hair and stared at the ground. “You were…saying…stuff in your sleep last night. I just…I’m worried, is all.”

Draco felt as though his insides had fallen through him. “I did what?”

“Sleep talking,” Blaise tried. “Or well…to be honest, it was more like…shouting.”

It was Draco’s turn to run a hand through his hair. They were standing in the crowded lobby. A few passersby stared at them. “N-no, I can’t have been doing that. You sure?”

“Positive.”

There was an awkward silence between the two of them before Blaise decided to fill it with a sigh. “I think you were dreaming about…” His voice caught in his throat momentarily. “Azkaban.” The word came out in a raspy whisper.

Draco swallowed. “Oh.” And he suddenly remembered his dream.

He crawled along the stone floor, feeling his knees scrape with every move he made. The thin fabric of his prison garb did little to soothe the pain. His fingers felt numb as his nails raked across the stone. His breathing was ragged and sounded like tearing parchment every time he exhaled.

A deep croaking sound echoed from behind him. An icy chill crept down his spine.

His eyes widened and he slowly dared himself to turn around. The prison was dark save the flitting light from the moon that escaped through the small windows. The bars from the empty prison cells cast eerie shadows about him.

“W-who’s there?”

When there was no immediate response, Draco continued to drag himself along the ground.

Where are all the other inmates? he thought, panic rising. Surely his father wouldn’t have left without him…right?

“Draco.”

The whisper was barely audible and sounded almost like a mouse scurrying in the darkness. But Draco heard it clearly.

He stopped moving, his heart thudding.

“But you’re dead,” Draco said, the fear evident in his voice. He quickly rose to his feet, almost tumbling over. He made a grab for the wall and limped forward, his shoulder dragging along the cool stone for support.

The croaking noise returned, this time from right behind Draco. He whipped around to face the source, sweat dripping from his forehead. “No!”

A white face stared at him, partly shielded by a curtain of dark hair that caught the moonlight around the crown, like an ominous halo. The face was set in a pained expression and black eyes stared at Draco.

“No!” he cried out again, backing away.

But the figure made a grab for him. An ice cold hand latched onto his wrist and pulled him closer. He smelled the stench of decaying flesh. It was then that he noticed the crimson blood pouring from his assailant’s white throat. So much blood…

Draco gasped and tried to shake himself free, but to no avail.

“But…w-why?”

“You killed me!”

“No!” Draco screamed as the corpse pulled him even closer, their faces inches apart. He continued to scream into the darkness, all the while unable to tear his gaze from the dead, black eyes that stared at him accusingly.

“You okay?” Blaise’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Draco said, lips pursed. “I think I’m going to get some fresh air.”

Blaise looked concerned, but when Draco waved him off, the two parted away.

He needed to clear his head. The dream had plagued him for many years. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get over the death of Severus Snape.

Ginny allowed Harry guide her into the dining hall with a hand against the small of her back. She was wearing a purple summer halter dress with a white cardigan to keep herself warm in the cool room. Her hair fell about her shoulders loosely. She thought she looked quite nice, unfortunately, Harry hadn’t thought so.

“What are you wearing?” he’d asked when she’d answered the door of her cabin to receive him.

“Hello, Harry, it’s nice to see you, too,” she’d responded, heading back inside to finish brushing her hair. “I believe they’re called dresses. Women tend to wear them from time to time, especially when they go out for the evening.”

Harry was dressed in a set of freshly pressed black robes. “I meant why are you wearing that? We were supposed to dress up tonight. The press will be everywhere, seeing as how it’s the first night on the ship.”

Ginny stopped brushing her hair in front of the mirror to stare at him. “And what’s wrong with what I’m wearing? This is a perfectly nice dress.”

He sighed. “It is, Gin, but it would be more appropriate for you to be wearing dress robes.”

“On the contrary, Harry,” she began evenly. “I thought we were supposed to be accepting Muggles. You of all people should know that.”

Harry raked a hand through his unruly hair. He looked like he was trying to maintain his cool. “Please don’t start with me on that. What I meant was that-”

“What do you mean? You seem unable to express yourself at the moment.” Ginny was now angry.

“Whatever, Ginny, can you hurry on up so we can get going?” he sighed again.

It was Ginny’s turn to exercise self-control. She was gripping the handle of her hairbrush so tight, she was expecting it to snap in half at any moment.

They’d walked towards the ballroom in silence. For the sake of pretenses, she’d linked her arm in his before a hoard of photographers stationed at the entrance hall ambushed them.

There was a blur of people, camera flashes, and incoherent voices as Harry lead her away, declining to pause for the journalists.

Ginny jumped back when a head of blonde curls pushed itself in her face.

“Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley! A few words if you will?” Rita Skeeter said, holding a quill and writing pad close to her.

Ginny made a face and felt Harry tug her along as Rita read aloud, “The soon to be Mrs. Potter refused to comment as she stared adoringly at her betrothed…”

If Ginny wasn’t still upset with Harry, she would’ve returned the amused smirk Harry gave her.

They took a seat at a table that was reserved for her family. She was relieved to see the smiling redheads.

“Ginny, dear,” her mother said to her from the other end of the circular table. “What happened to the nice blue robes you just bought?”

Ginny clenched her fists under the table. “Nothing, Mum, I just wanted to wear this.”

Hermione, who was seated next to Ginny, stared at her for a moment as the rest of her family became preoccupied with conversation. “You okay?”

Ginny nodded without looking at Hermione. It meant a lot to her that her friend simply squeezed her hand without another word.

On Ginny’s other side sat Percy’s wife, Audrey. Surprisingly, she was Ginny’s favorite sister-in-law. She was a tall, thin woman with chocolate colored curls that bounced around her heart-shaped face. Her deep blue eyes revealed a sense of excitement that Ginny had never seen in Percy. She assumed it’s what made the two of them work so well. All her brothers loved their wives more than any man could, but it was Percy and Audrey’s relationship that made Ginny’s heart melt.

They’d met at the Ministry; Audrey worked for the Department of Magical Transportation. It had begun as a simple debate over broom regulations and ended up with a wedding just eight months later.

Audrey leaned forward so that her face was inches from Ginny’s. She looked mischievous. “Kingsley and Dad have been darting around the dining hall like they’ve been hit by a Jelly-Legs Jinx.”

Ginny raised her eyebrows in interest. “What do you mean?”

“I think something is going on,” Audrey explained, looking around cautiously. “They’ve been whispering in hushed silences, and every now and then a ministry official will come by to tell them something.”

“Has Harry said anything?” she asked as an afterthought.

Ginny shook her head. “No, but you know he wouldn’t reveal anything.”

“Whatever is going on,” Audrey said, bringing her voice down to a barely audible whisper. “I hope it’s not too serious.”

Ginny couldn’t imagine what the problem was, if there even was one. Every wizard that boarded the ship was subjected to a security check. They hadn’t even let anyone who’d been in Azkaban the last six months on.

After their meal Harry approached Ginny with an extended hand. He had a small smile on his face as he asked her to dance. She sighed inwardly, noticing her siblings staring at her in anticipation to take the lead on the ballroom dance floor so they could follow in pursuit. Her hand trembled slightly in hesitation for the slightest of moments before she accepted his offer.

Harry had noticed her reluctance, and instead of expressing his displeasure, he merely widened his smile and tightened his grip on her hand.

They danced in silence and soon there were dozens of couples surrounding them.

“I’m sorry, Ginny,” Harry said, searching for her eyes. He took one of her hands and drew it to his lips.

“For what?” she asked, staring at him blankly. Too long she’d heard empty apologies come out of his mouth. She needed to know that he was aware of just exactly what he’d done wrong.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said. “I should never have said anything otherwise.”

Ginny was about to give him a smile, but he added, “And have you heard what the press has been saying? Your Muggle dress has been a hit! It will soon be all the rave among witches. You did some good thinking there, Gin.”

Ginny’s mouth dropped open for a moment. Of course! That’s all he’ll ever care about – what the press thinks of him.

“Yeah, I really did. And what if the press hadn’t liked it?”

Harry looked confused. “What does it matter? The press liked it!”

Ginny clamped her mouth shut into a thin line and nodded curtly. She allowed her hold on Harry to loosen.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, his eyes widening in alarm.

She sighed. “Oh, nothing at all, Harry. I’m going to get a bit of fresh air.”

He stared at her curiously, but he held onto her. “Would you like me to come with you?”

She wanted to laugh cruelly at him, but instead she took a deep breath. “No, thank you.”

Ginny stormed out of the ballroom, ignoring the calls of several people who tried to hail her over. The cool night air made her shiver. She blinked back tears as she made her way towards a guardrail by the stern and gripped it tightly. Her head bowed as she let out a quiet sob.

I’m not happy. I haven’t been happy for a very long time.

Ginny tried to wipe away some of the tears with the back of her hand.

I should be happy with Harry. I should be able to smile when I look at him. I should be able to melt when I look into his green eyes. I should be able to shiver uncontrollably when he touches me. I should be able to lose myself in a state of bliss when he makes love to me. I should be, but I'm not.

She stared at the black ocean, seeing nothing. The calm rushing of the water rang in her ears.

It’s like me – empty, hollow, and silently praying for a little bit of light.

Things between her and Harry had been tumultuous for the past three years. Instead of getting back together immediately after the war, they’d both allowed some time to heal and grow. They’d both needed it. It was hard to come back to love in a time when so much of it had been destroyed. But she’d truly believed that the best way to heal would’ve been to embrace the very thing that had brought down the Dark Lord – love.

And so two years after the war, she and Harry had decided to try again. It had been wonderful. They’d been happy and Ginny had found the will to live and love again.

But things had begun to change once Harry had decided to work for the Ministry. She’d pleaded with him not to. She’d reminded him that the Ministry had antagonized him for years. Ginny wasn’t stupid, she knew what was going on. The Ministry had needed to heal as well. And the best way was to rebuild their reputation. If Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, worked with them, then things were set. The Wizarding world would have faith in the Ministry once again.

“Ginny, this is my chance to change things. I can change the Ministry and make it good,” he’d said to her.

She’d admired his optimism, but knew that Harry would change along with the Ministry. He quickly rose in ranks in the Ministry, receiving promotion after promotion. He never thought twice about accepting a position, claiming that he was building a better future for Wizards, and for them.

She saw less of him even as time went by. He worked late and she was often exhausted from Quidditch practice. She found herself competing for his time, attention, and love. The Wizarding world had fallen in love with Harry Potter, and he with them. They couldn’t go anywhere in peace without him being ambushed. Their every waking moment seemed to be plastered onto the front page of The Daily Prophet. In fact, when he’d proposed, the Wizarding world found out before her parents had.

“I cannot believe those sodding leeches ran the story through! Why didn’t you do anything?” she’d cried out frustration, incinerating the paper with her wand.

“What could I have done, Ginny? I don’t have any control over what’s published.”

She knew that wasn’t true. With the amount of power Harry had accumulated, he could easily screen the press. It frightened her to think that perhaps he’d grown to like the attention. This certainly wasn’t the Harry she’d grown to love. The Harry who shied away from the journalists and photographers. The Harry who’d stood alone rather than conforming.

Ginny had to admit that Harry had definitely done great things for the new world they lived in, but he wasn’t her Harry anymore. And yet she couldn’t seem to leave him. He’d long since been part of her family. Her parents would be devastated if their relationship didn’t work out. He was Ron’s best mate. They were the golden couple of the Wizarding world. And despite all that had happened, he was, after all, her Hogwarts sweetheart. She couldn’t imagine a life without him.

She looked around the deck and couldn’t find a single soul outside with her. They were all enjoying themselves in the ballroom.

I’m so alone.

A cold sense of panic washed over her. Her breaths came out shallow and quick.

I’m trapped. I’m trapped.

She began to tremble violently. The large diamond bracelet she wore clattered against the guardrail loudly. Ginny backed away to stare at the wood planking in front of her.

I don’t want to live anymore.

She took a deep breath and threw a leg over the railing, her hands clutching it tightly. She steadied herself to get the second leg over. Her stomach flipped. The black ocean was hypnotizing and the propellers beneath her hummed loudly, drowning out the sound of the waves.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a male voice said.

Ginny jerked her head to look at the intruder.

Draco Malfoy stood a few feet away from her. His posture appeared to be relaxed, despite the fact that he’d stumbled across a girl about to jump overboard. His blond hair fell lazily into his eyes and his hands were in his pockets.

“Malfoy! G-get away!” she asked, shakily. Merlin, how am I going to explain this?

“I was wondering if you knew that throwing your other leg over would certainly result in you plunging into the deep ocean to your death.”

Ginny glared at him. “Just leave me the bloody hell alone.” She flung her second leg over and balanced herself so that she stood with her back against the ship. Her hands continued to grip the guardrail tightly. The wind plastered her dress against her body. She stared down at the ocean with hesitance.

“You know, if you want to off yourself, drowning probably isn’t the best way to do it,” he said quietly.

She turned to face him, keeping a tight hold on the guardrail. It was difficult to see him clearly with her hair blowing about her face. “I said to leave me alone! I’ll jump! I swear I’ll do it!”

“I don’t believe you,” he said calmly. “I don’t think you’ve really thought this through.”

Ginny stared at the white waves thundering beneath her. She gulped. “What do you know? You don’t know me at all!” Her lips trembled and she found the tears returning to eyes.

“No, you’re right, I don’t know you,” he said. “But if you were going to jump, wouldn’t you have done it already? I think you’re stalling.”

“Y-you’re distracting me! I told you to leave me alone,” she cried out, sniffing.

“Well, let it be known, that if you really are foolish enough to jump in, I’d have to go in after you.”

“No you wouldn’t. You’d be killed. This is no business of yours. I’ve asked you to bugger off!”

“I’m a pretty good swimmer,” he drawled lazily. His cool demeanor was irritating. “I’m not afraid. But I do think the water is going to be a bit cold.”

Ginny stared the ocean once more. The waves licked at the base of the ship. “R-really?”

Malfoy kicked off his shoes. “Oh yeah. I was merely assuming that you intended to drown, but I think you’ll most likely freeze to death. It’ll be bloody awful. Or you may fall into the propellers. That would be quite a mess to deal with.”

Ginny bit her bottom lip.

“So I’m hoping you won’t jump because I don’t want to have to endure either kind of pain – freezing to death or bodily mutilation.”

“You’re mad,” she said to him.

“So I’ve heard, but I’m standing on solid ground, and there you are…”

What do I do? Do I really want to do this?

“Give me your hand and I’ll help you over,” Malfoy said.

Ginny stared at him for a moment before nodding. “Okay.” She tried to twist her body around in order to face him completely, but felt herself slip as she lost her footing. She let out a cry. Her legs were dangling in midair and only one hand gripped the guardrail.

I’m going to die! What was I bloody thinking?

In an instant, Malfoy was grabbing her other hand. Her feet frantically tried to find solid ground.

He offered her his other hand. She stared at it reluctantly. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to release the guardrail. I’m going to fall to my death!

“Take it!” he shouted at her. “I’m not going to let you fall!”

Ginny obliged and he gripped her hand tightly. She was surprised to find how strong his hold on her was. He pulled her over.

She fell hard onto her knees, panting. He stood nearby, eyeing her curiously as he straightened himself out.

Ginny sat up and hugged her knees to herself, staring ahead blankly. “I can’t believe I just did that. What was I thinking? I could’ve died! Well, I suppose that was the idea…”

“So, you’re all right then?” Malfoy asked, interrupting her rambling. She stared at him, as if seeing him for the first time.

He shifted uncomfortably, his hands in his pockets once again. The moonlight made his already white blond hair glow, giving his face an eerie look. It amazed her that the boy she’d grown to despise over the years now stood before her as her savior. She was frightened and humiliated at the same time.

“Oh, Merlin, Malfoy! I-I…you…w-what…if y-you,” she sputtered as her breathing quickened, much like it had earlier before she’d decided to jump. Her face crumpled and before she knew it, she was shedding uncontrollable tears.

She allowed her disheveled hair to fall in front of her like a curtain as her shoulders heaved up and down.

“Can I get someone for you?” Malfoy asked awkwardly.

She shook her head furiously and continued to cry, unable to stop the tears.

“Well, if there’s nothing I can-”

“Ginny!” a voice called out loudly. “What is going on here?”

She didn’t have to look up to recognize Harry. He was running towards the two of them, his black robes billowing about him wildly. She noticed Neville not too far behind him.

“What’ve you done to her, you-” he snapped dangerously at Malfoy, shoving past him.

Malfoy stepped back with his hands out in front of him. “I don’t like what you’re insinuating, Potter. I’ve done nothing to her.”

Ginny sniffed and gingerly rose to her feet. Harry helped her up. “He’s right. He didn’t do anything. I lost my footing while watching the propellers and almost slipped overboard, but Malfoy helped me.” She stared at the blond boy meaningfully, hoping that he wouldn’t say anything else.

He nodded, acknowledging the accuracy of the story.

Neville eyed Malfoy and spoke for the first time. “Well, if this is true, then he’s a bit of a hero, isn’t he?”

Harry blinked at Neville. He then pulled Ginny into a tight hug. “Oh, Ginny! Are you all right?”

She mumbled a quiet reply.

Harry turned to face Malfoy. “Well, I suppose I should thank you.”

Malfoy shrugged and turned around.

Ginny could feel Harry’s muscles tense suddenly. “Wait a second, Malfoy. What are you doing up here by yourself any way?”

Malfoy stopped walking, but kept his back to the two of them. “Enjoying a little bit of fresh air, Potter.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t sound very likely-”

“For goodness sake, Harry, he saved my life. Don’t hassle him,” Ginny pulled herself out of Harry’s arms and walked towards Malfoy.

He raised a blond eyebrow at her in surprise.

“I think a proper thank you is in order, especially after the way you’ve treated him,” she said to Harry.

Harry’s mouth dropped slightly. “W-what?”

“It’s not necessary,” Malfoy said quietly, inching away from her.

“Of course it is,” she said, staring at him, her expression hard.

Harry ran a hand through his thick hair. “Very well, what would you have me do, Ginny? Money?”

Malfoy’s expression darkened. “I don’t need your money,” he spat out.

“I think he should dine with us tomorrow,” Ginny said quickly.

“Wonderful idea,” Neville said, grinning. His blond hair blew about his face. “Malfoy can tell everyone about how he saved Ginny.”

The way Harry’s eyes bulged out of his head made her botched suicide attempt well worth it.

“I…well, of course,” he sputtered. “Malfoy, you should join us for dinner tomorrow.”

Malfoy shook his head. “That’s quite all right. I should actually be heading back down.”

He made to move away from them, but Ginny touched his arm lightly. “Please? It’s the least we could do.”

He seemed to hesitate as he stared at both Ginny and Harry. He let out a sigh. “Fine.”

Harry made his way towards Ginny and wrapped an arm around her waist possessively. “Then it’s settled. We’ll expect you at seven.”

Malfoy nodded in acknowledgment and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Ginny alone with Harry and her thoughts. He ushered her back inside, murmuring words of concern.

I almost tried to kill myself. What’s wrong with me?

Maybe Ginny hadn’t actually jumped, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t drowning.

The next morning Ginny sat up in bed, contemplating last night’s events. She’d tried to jump overboard in an attempt to kill herself. This wasn’t something she should take lightly.

“Am I really that unhappy?” she asked out loud to the empty room.

She tugged the bed sheets against her chest and breathed deeply. The faint sounds of the ocean could be heard outside of her cabin. The occupants of the ship would all be rising for breakfast soon.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Ginny got to her feet, threw on a dressing gown and padded over to the door in fuzzy slippers.

Peering through the peep hole she recognized her mother.

“Ginny, it’s Mum,” her mother said.

Ginny unlatched the door and stepped aside to let her mother in.

“Good morning, Mum,” she said, scratching the back of her head as she stifled a yawn.

“What on Heaven and Earth happened last night?” her mother asked, her voice oddly high-pitched.

Ginny collapsed back onto her bed and stared at the ceiling, as if the white plaster was somehow more interesting than her distraught mother.

“What?” she asked, playing dumb.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley,” her mother said, enunciating each part of her name with deliberation, the way she did when she was about to explode with anger. “Don’t you dare do that. You mysteriously left dinner early and the next thing I know, you nearly fell overboard! What makes matters worse is that you were in the company of Draco Malfoy, no less.”

Ginny sighed, staring up at her mother. “I wasn’t feeling well, so I went outside to get a bit of fresh air. I happened to be looking over the guardrail, but the wind was too strong and nearly took me over the edge. I’m lucky Malfoy was there, otherwise I surely would be lost out to sea, or much worse, right now.”

Her mother’s expression softened, much to Ginny’s surprise.

“You frightened us half to death. Ginny, darling, what is going on?” her mother asked, a look of anguish lining her eyes.

Her mother suddenly looked old. Ginny noticed wrinkles she hadn’t seen before. Her once vivid red hair was streaked with gray and her face had hollowed in considerably.

“You’ve been so…dismal and distant lately,” she continued, sitting down next to her.

I could say the same about you, Ginny thought, sitting up straight to look at her mother more closely. You’re still mourning over Fred. You can’t bear the fact that one of your children is no longer with us. It’s killing you inside. And while our family continues to grow, you see what we’ve lost, and not what we’ve gained.

Ginny shook her head. “I’m okay, Mum, really.” I just lied to my mother. Why can’t I tell her that I really am miserable? That I feel as though I’m a ghost, a mere shadow that drifts through life’s motions for the sake of others?

Her mother ran a hand through Ginny’s hair, stroking the side of her face in the process. She smiled sadly at her. “Oh, Ginny, I only wish you’d be honest with me.”

And I wish you’d come back to us.

She didn’t know how to respond to her mother, so she gave her a hug, inhaling her warmth.

“Don’t worry about me, Mum,” she whispered.

Her mother left shortly after to allow her time to dress. As she brushed out her hair, she couldn’t help but to think of how selfish she’d been. She’d been attempting to take her own life, at the risk of taking a part of her family with her. They were still healing; they would always be healing, struggling to compensate for the void that had been created seven years ago.

But that didn’t stop Ginny from feeling like something was clawing at her insides, kicking, and screaming to be released. To breathe.

Is that my destiny? To exist for others? For my family? For Harry?

Ginny realized she’d been absently brushing her hair for a good twenty minutes. She stared at her reflection in the vanity mirror.

“Come on, smile,” she urged herself, forcing her lips to curve upward. The result was a lopsided monstrosity that made her look as though she’d just consumed a Puking Pastille.

“You have a good life,” she said to her reflection. “You play Seeker for the Holyhead Harpies. You have a loving and doting family. You’re not bad looking. Well, I suppose your lips could be a bit fuller. And you could be a little taller. And maybe your eyes would look better if they weren’t so deep-set. And then you have a...solid relationship with Harry Potter.”

Her voice trailed off as she muttered the last part of her pathetic pep talk. She noticed her pseudo smile had disappeared.

Ginny was supposed to meet her family out on the deck for breakfast. She found them sitting by a café, spread out over three round tables.

“Aunt Ginny, please sit with me!” Victoire exclaimed, nearly jumping out of her seat.

Her niece was sitting with her younger sister, Teddy, Andromeda, and, Freddie, George and Angelina’s son.

“Oh well, I don’t know,” Ginny teased, stopping by a high chair with a baby Hugo sitting in it. “I think Hugo would like me to sit with him.”

Victoire looked crestfallen.

Hermione, who was attempting to feed Hugo mashed bananas smiled at Ginny. “I think Hugo would be okay with Aunt Ginny sitting with you lot today.”

Ginny ruffled the eight-month-old baby’s hair as he squealed in delight, thumping a pudgy, banana-covered fist on his tabletop.

Ginny took a seat next to her eldest niece, who beamed at her.

“Aunt Ginny?” Teddy asked, poking at his eggs.

“Yes, sweetie?” she responded, eyeing Freddie as he blew bubbles into his orange juice through a straw.

“Freddie!” Angelina’s voice called out from the table next to them. He scowled, but obeyed his mother.

“Could you take us swimming after breakfast?” Teddy finished. “Uncle Bill said you would.”

She turned around to face Bill, who sat with their parents, his wife, and Charlie. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he grinned at her sheepishly.

Andromeda spoke up. “The children have all come with their swimming costumes, but their mothers and fathers were hoping you would take them.” She smiled with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Andromeda looked very much like her sister, Bellatrix, but with chestnut colored hair. Her face was hard-set, her eyes heavily-lidded, but she was one of the most pleasant people Ginny had ever met. She’d aged considerably over the years, after having lost her whole family, but she dotted on Teddy, showing him as much love as anyone could give their only grandson.

“I’d love to, Teddy,” she said, smiling.

Teddy and Victoire grinned at each other and Dominique, sitting on Ginny’s other side, tugged on her arm.

“Me too?”

“Of course. It wouldn’t be fun without you,” she reassured her. “Oh, and Freddie, you’ll be coming with us too, of course?”

Her nephew sat across from them, pouting, his raven-colored curls hanging about his face. Despite his mother’s hair, he was definitely George’s son.

“He’s in trouble for nearly setting the curtains in our cabin on fire this morning,” Angelina explained, rolling her eyes. “No sweets today.”

Freddie crossed his arms around himself.

Ginny bit her lip to contain a laugh, so as to not upset the five-year old even more.

“Come on, Freddie, it’ll be fun,” Teddy said, offering the younger boy a small smile.

Ginny knew Freddie idolized Teddy. The two were quite close, much to Victoire’s dismay.

Freddie gave Teddy a lopsided smile, much like the one Ginny had attempted to make in her cabin earlier. “Okay,” he said, clearly not wanting to appear as excited as he really was.

She was able to just finish a blueberry scone when the children tugged her to her feet and began to run towards the pool.

“Slow down,” Ginny called after the older three as she held onto the hands of Dominique and Molly, Percy and Audrey’s four-year old.

Using her wand, Ginny was able to quickly transfigure her denim cutoffs and red tank top into a one piece bathing suit.

She blushed as a teenaged Wizard whistled at her.

“Aunt Ginny, I’m scared,” Molly said, whimpering, as Ginny tugged the little girl’s t-shirt over her head, revealing a pink bathing suit.

They stood before a pool the size of professional Quidditch field with dozens of Witches and Wizards swimming in it.

Ginny lead them towards the shallow end of the pool for children. Freddie, Teddy, and Victoire were already splashing about in it, their clothes having been discarded at the side of the pool in favor of their swimming costumes.

“Don’t be,” Ginny said to both her nieces as she dropped to her knees. “Here, this is what Nana used on me when I was your age.”

“Aqua Erectus.” Using her wand, she tapped both girls gently over the head. Blue wisps of smoke traveled from the tip of her wand and whirled around the two girls.

Dominique giggled. “That tickled.”

“That will keep you afloat. And I’ll be with you the whole time.”

She took their hands once again and waded into the water, descending the small, stone steps in the pool. She lowered herself, taking a seat on one of the steps, the water stopping at her waistline.

The two girls ran their hands along the surface of the water, their expressions ecstatic. After a few minutes they became more comfortable and moved further out into the water.

Ginny allowed herself to relax, stretching out, all the while keeping an eye on her nieces and nephews. The gentle waves from the splashing of children created a soothing effect on her.

Maybe all she needed to do was to unwind a little. It had been a hectic year, with the Harpies getting ready for the World Cup, Harry’s preparations for the ship, all the children…

“Mind if I join you?” a voice broke into her thoughts. “The other end is a bit full.”

She turned around to see a tall man standing at the edge of the pool. The blinding sun cast a dark shadow about his face, so she couldn’t discern who it was.

“Excuse me?” she responded, attempting to shield her eyes.

The man lowered himself onto his knees so that he was at eye-level with Ginny. He wore nothing but black swimming shorts. She swallowed, taking in his naked and chiseled chest before looking up to meet his face.

“Malfoy? What are you doing here?” she asked dumbly.

She was embarrassed to see him, after what she’d gone through the night before. Was he there to gloat and make her feel bad about herself? Did he want something in return for helping her?

He gave her a small smile. “Attempting to swim. Is that a problem?”

Ginny stared at him. “B-but…”

“I know, I shouldn’t be up here using your pool, but the worst they can do is ask me to leave,” he said, his cool gray eyes catching the light of the pool water.

She opened her mouth to say something, but quickly closed it.

“So,” he asked, almost shyly, “do you mind?”

Ginny shook her head. “Er…no, go ahead.”

He slid himself into the pool, a few feet away from her. His solid chest was now gleaming from the water. She noticed that he’d become tan since their school days. He no longer had the white, pasty skin that they’d taken joy in making fun of behind his back during their schooldays. Now he was actually quite…

No! She scolded herself before she could finish her thought. He’s a Malfoy! What are you thinking, you idiotic girl?

Her mind replayed the events from the night before. She could feel herself dangling from the ship’s guardrail, afraid that she’d fall. Her feet scrambled to find some solid footing, but her heels scraped against the ship’s surface uselessly.

But that’s what you’d wanted, wasn’t it?

She could see Malfoy’s face as he thrust his arm out to her. His blond hair was blowing about his face wildly. His expression was serious and tense, his eyes wide with fear.

I’m going to die and the last thing I’ll see is Malfoy’s face.

“Are those all miniature Weasleys?” Malfoy asked, tilting his head towards the five children splashing each other.

Ginny nodded quickly, still embarrassed by her thoughts. “Yes. You’ve seen Dominique, Victoire, and Teddy. There’s also Molly and Freddie.”

“Are there others?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Oh yes, there’s Rose, Hugo, Roxanne, and two on the way,” she said, smiling to herself.

Malfoy floated through the water, moving a few more feet away from her. She watched him stretch his arms out as he held himself up. The muscles in his back flexed as he moved.

Ginny quickly realized her mouth had been hanging open ever so slightly. She slammed it shut.

“What about you and Potter?” Malfoy asked casually.

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. “I hardly think that’s any of your concern.”

“I apologize,” he said, though Ginny didn’t think he really sounded sorry.

There was an awkward silence between them.

“Take it! I’m not going to let you fall!” Malfoy shouted, his face was hard and blazing with determination.

She squeezed her eyes shut and let go of the guardrail. She could feel his hard grab a hold of hers, gripping it tightly.

He must think you’re nutters, she thought. Any minute now he’s going to make fun of you, your family, Harry…

“You know,” she said to him, staring at him pointedly. “I’m fine, really. I must’ve had a little too much Firewhisky during dinner.”

He furrowed his brow. “Okay…”

“I mean it. It’s not a big deal. Nothing happened. I’m fine, I’m here, relaxing. Things are great.”

He stared at her, his face blank.

“I have a good life, Malfoy,” she said, a little louder than was necessary.

“All right,” he said simply, keeping his eyes on her.

“You don’t believe me,” she said, disappointed in herself for sounding disappointed at all.

She heard a faint whistling sound and felt something bump the side of her head. A Muggle beach ball landed on the surface of the water with a soft splash.

“What in Merlin’s beard,” she exclaimed, turning around to face direction the ball had come from.

Malfoy chuckled softly.

“You think that’s funny?” she asked, glaring at him. Taking the beach ball, she threw it at him. It hit him smack in the middle of his face before bouncing back onto the water.

He looked surprised for a moment as water dripped from his face, but he recovered quickly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. For a second, Ginny thought he looked quite like Andromeda. He lunged at her, and before she could react, he grabbed her by the shoulders.

Ginny squirmed, blinded by the splashing water of his sudden movement. “Let go of me!” she cried, kicking her legs at him from under the water.

He pushed her downward until she was completely submerged in the water. She felt him let go and he quickly swam away from her.

She resurfaced, gasping for air and pulling her wet hair out of her eyes. She let out an unladylike growl. “Draco Malfoy!”

“You really need to loosen up,” he drawled. He hoisted himself onto the edge of the pool and began to dry himself off with a towel.

“I c-can’t believe you have the audacity to…to…,” she sputtered, her heart racing.

He ducked his head and threw his towel over it, rubbing vigorously. She decided to take advantage of the situation. Swimming towards him stealthily, she grabbed his dangling ankles and pulled him. He let out a yelp as he fell in. She felt him grab her waist to steady himself, successfully pulling her under as well.

They both surfaced, sputtering and panting for air. She rubbed her eyes, peering at him, ready for him to retaliate.

He shook his head wildly, attempting to dry his hair. His eyes met her eyes as he laughed.

Ginny couldn’t help but to laugh with him.

“You’re sneaky,” he said, wringing his now drenched towel.

“Yeah, well, I try.”

Ginny swam towards the stone steps and got out of the pool. A house elf (or was it a ship elf?) offered her a fresh towel. She dried herself off, catching Malfoy's eye for a second as he watched her.

He quickly looked away as he climbed out of the pool, and used his wand to perform a drying charm.

The bright sun illuminated his tan, giving him a healthy glow. Ginny couldn’t help her eyes from trailing down his body.

“So I’ll see you at seven?” he asked, his lips twitching slightly.

“Yes, seven,” she repeated as she wrapped the towel around her waist.

He was about to leave her company when all five of her nieces and nephews emerged from the pool as well, running towards her. Their wet feet smacked against the stone tiles as they giggled, racing each other.

They panted heavily as they finally approached her. She handed them all clean towels to dry themselves off and removed the floating spells from Molly and Dominique.

“Aunt Ginny!” Molly said, tugging on Ginny’s arm. Her short red curls bobbed around her face. “Freddie was the one who threw the beach ball at you!”

“I didn’t!” Freddie cried, looking at Ginny desperately.

“Did too!” the four-year-old challenged.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Ginny said, looking at Malfoy. He looked amused.

“Who’s that?” Freddie blurted, pointing at Malfoy.

“It’s not polite to point, Freddie,” Ginny said. “This is Draco Malfoy, he went to school with your Uncle Harry and me.”

The five children stared at Malfoy. He looked obviously uncomfortable with the introduction.

“Er…hello.”

“Were you in Gryffindor, too?” Victoire asked.

Malfoy was about to respond, but Teddy beat him to it. “No, he was in Slytherin.” He uttered the House name with venom.

Ginny stared at Teddy, appalled. The boy was staring at Malfoy with his jaw clenched.

“I-I…Teddy! That was very ru-” Ginny began.

But Malfoy shook his head. “It’s all right. Yes, I was in Slytherin.”

Freddie stared at Malfoy in awe. “So are you a sneaky, nasty…oompf!”

Ginny quickly covered Freddie’s mouth with her hand. She laughed nervously. “Children! They say the funniest things sometimes!”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. He didn’t look amused anymore.

“Well…er…we need to get going,” Ginny said hastily. “Say goodbye to Mr. Malfoy and get your clothes.”

The children mumbled their goodbyes as Ginny hurried them away. She turned back to give Malfoy an apologetic look. But he wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at Teddy. The blue haired boy was staring back at him warily as Freddie chatted enthusiastically next to him.

“You’ve gone bloody mental,” Blaise said to Draco, as the two of them ran side-by-side on Muggle treadmills.

“It’s a free meal.” Draco adjusted the speed on his machine so that he was sprinting.

“With Potter and the Weasleys,” Blaise cried out, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

“Ginny Weasley is tolerable,” Draco said defensively.

“You’re smitten, you git!” Blaise laughed at him, subsequently tripping on his feet and flying off the treadmill. He landed in a heap and scowled at a middle-aged Wizard laughing nearby.

Draco stopped his machine to help his friend up.

“Now who’s mental?” Draco smirked as he pulled Blaise to his feet.

“She’s betrothed, to Potter,” Blaise argued, straightening himself out. “You’re messing with something that’s going to get you nothing but trouble.”

“It’s only dinner, Blaise,” Draco said, sighing. He grabbed a towel and wiped away the sweat dripping down his face.

“No,” Blaise said seriously. “First, you’re saving her life, and then you’re playing all cute in the pool with the Weasley brats, and now dinner. I don’t think it’s going to end there.”

Draco wasn’t about to admit to his friend that he had indeed been thinking about the witch more than he should’ve been. He wasn’t sure what it was about her. She was an odd character who tended to babble and ramble more than was becoming of someone her stature. But then again, the Weasleys were new to high-society.

Perhaps it was because he found her company exhilarating. She was like a forbidden fruit, someone with whom he shouldn’t be consorting with. She was Potter’s fiancée, and given the size of the colossal rock on her finger, he’d clearly placed his mark upon her. As much as Draco had grown up over the years, it still brought him pleasure to irk his childhood rival.

Or maybe it was because she was stunning. She wasn’t a conventional beauty by any means. But she had a simple charm about her that captivated him. Her soft complexion was sprinkled with cinnamon-like freckles, her doe-like eyes brimming with passion that she’d been forced to contain over the years, and her red tresses were like waves of silk. Looking at her was like sitting in the presence of an angel. Not to mention, seeing her in a red bathing suit wasn’t too bad of an experience.

While everyone else gave him shifty looks, gossiped about him when they didn’t think he was within earshot, or simply ignored him like the Plague, Ginny seemed to stand him. Or, so he thought. She wasn’t nasty, nor did she fake pleasantries with him.

And then there was Teddy, the son of his estranged cousin. He’d only seen him once before, and that was shortly after the war when he’d just been a baby. He knew that Teddy and Andromeda were his only living relatives, but he felt nothing for them.

Draco had grown up in a home where their names had been forbidden. Having been an only child, he’d often gotten lonely. His mother had set up an innumerable amount of play dates for him, but sometimes he desired the presence of a sibling.

As per Malfoy tradition, he knew that his father had been an only child as well. So he’d asked his mother once if he had any cousins, and she’d dismissed him.

“You know very well that Aunt Bella and Uncle Rolf have no children,” she’d said, occupying herself with a book so as to not meet his eyes.

“But, isn’t there anyone else? Don’t you have another sib-”, Draco had tried.

He’d recalled the Black family tapestry he’d seen. Cygnus and Druella Black had three children, Bellatrix, Narcissa, and their middle child, whom Draco knew nothing of, not even a name. There had been no date of birth, or date of death, since his or her entire existence had been blasted off the tapestry.

“No,” his mother had said sharply. “And it would do you good to not bring this up again.”

This bothered Draco even more and he was determined to find out about the missing relative. It wasn’t until four years later that he’d discovered anything at all, and that had been by mere chance.

One year before Draco was to attend Hogwarts, his parents had gotten into an argument. They’d forgotten to perform a Silencio charm on their bedroom door, and Draco had been able to pick up pieces of their arguing.

“The school will teach him all about the Dark Arts,” his father was saying. “I’ll not have my son attend that rudimentary institution that Dumbledore calls a school.”

“Might I remind you that’s where we attended, Lucius?” his mother said, her voice high-pitched. “I won’t have my baby going off to school in Bulgaria. It’s much too far.”

His father let out a soft growl. “This is ridiculous. We have a chance for our son to learn from the best. Karkaroff has assured me that he’ll be admitted.”

“I don’t care!” His mother was now shouting. “He could’ve gotten into Mo Shu Xue Xiao, but he’s still going to Hogwarts.”

“This is so typical of you,” his father said thickly. “I shouldn’t have expected you to have said anything otherwise. After all, we’re talking about a school that mollycoddles Mudbloods, and your sister…”

His mother drew in a sharp breath and Draco heard the sound of a slap.

“How dare you!”

There was a momentary silence before he heard his father speak. “Narcissa, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. We’ll send Draco to Hogwarts.”

So Draco knew he had an aunt and something had happened with her regarding Mudbloods. He needed to know more, so he sought out the one person who he could
ask about such things – his grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy. The aging man had been ill for many years and his parents had told Draco to be prepared for him to die soon.

The summer before Draco left for Hogwarts for his first year, he approached the elder Malfoy at St. Mungo’s.

“Grandfather, may I ask you something?” The nurses had cast a shield around him so as to deflect the disease. But Draco still stood a few feet away from the old man.

Abraxas Malfoy had been a grumpy, short-tempered man. Draco had often seen him chiding his father, and the much taller Lucius Malfoy would hang his head low, cowering in fear. However, his grandfather had done nothing but dote on Draco. He’d constantly showered him with gifts, allowed him to get away with things, and told him embarrassing stories about his father’s childhood. He’d tell Draco about the importance of blood purity and family.

“Yes, my child, go ahead,” his grandfather said, smiling weakly.

“I wanted to know about my family…er, well, the Blacks to be more specific,” Draco began, studying his grandfather’s face.

The old man seemed to stiffen, but he straightened himself to an upright position on his bed. “What brings on this curiosity?”

“I just wanted to know,” Draco said. “And Mother refuses to tell me anything.”

His grandfather smiled to himself. “That mother of yours is one stubborn woman. Did I ever tell you she refused your father’s marriage proposals twice before accepting?”

“Er…no, you didn’t,” Draco said. Well that was interesting…but he’d ask about that at another time. “But what of the sister that’s been blasted off the Black tapestry?”

The solemn expression returned to his grandfather’s face. “Your mother would kill me for telling you this, but I suppose I’m dying anyway.”

Draco winced slightly at his words.

“Andromeda,” his grandfather said. “She is your mother’s middle sister.”

“W-what?” Draco asked, bewildered by the response.

“She married a Muggle-born, you see, and that wasn’t taken very well,” his grandfather said darkly.

“Oh,” was the only thing Draco could muster.

“So she was banished from the family, as she so deserved,” he said.

“Where is she?”

His grandfather stared at him for a moment. “Draco, it would do you no good to dwell on these things. She’s been blasted off the family tree for a reason. We don’t associate with those types.”

“But I just want to know,” Draco said.

“I don’t know where she is. She’s still married to that Mudblood, I assume. They had a child, Nymphadora. That is all I know.”

Draco felt his heart soar. He had a cousin.

“But I meant what I said. Leave it be. And do not repeat what I said,” his grandfather said seriously.

Draco nodded and bid his grandfather goodbye. He never got a chance to ask him about his parents’ marriage, as Abraxas Malfoy died six months later.

After the disaster with Professor Quirrell at the end of Draco’s first year at Hogwarts, the Malfoys began to prepare for the possibility of the return of the Dark Lord. There was increased anti-sentiment for Mudbloods and blood traitors. And Draco’s dreams of having the family he’d always wanted waned with this new fervor. His aunt had been a blood traitor, having married a filthy Muggle-born. His parents had been justified in wanting to have nothing to do with bad apple of the family.

He saw his cousin Nymphadora for the first time during his sixth year at school. There was increased security at Hogwarts, and Aurors had been employed for the students’ protection. They’d passed each other in a hallway at school once and glanced at each other momentarily before he forced himself to look away, his boyhood arrogance overpowering his desire for family. But he couldn’t help but notice the faint facial similarities they both carried. She had the same high cheekbones and pointed chin as he.

It made him think – if his grandfather had emphasized the significance of family and blood purity, what did one do when the two came into conflict with one another? Did one have to choose which was more important?

This question had haunted Draco during his last two years in school. He didn’t find the answer until the after the final battle – that family did indeed supersede blood purity.

And now that he was left with no family, save for two individuals with whom he’d been forbidden to associate with, he was conflicted once again.

Teddy reminded Draco of himself as a child, stubborn, outspoken, and yearning for family. But Draco didn’t have the faintest idea on how to handle the situation. He wasn’t good with children, for one thing. And he couldn’t just pretend the feud had never occurred, could he?

Draco and Blaise left the gym and began to head back towards their cabin.

“Malfoy!” a voice called out after him.

The two of them turned around. Draco recognized the tall, red-haired man as a Weasley. He couldn’t pinpoint which one it was, seeing as how there were so many. He was a bit more built than the rest of them and had long hair, much like Draco’s currently.

The Weasley caught up with them.

Upon closer inspection Draco could see that this one had the unique distinction of two large and jagged scars across his face.

He’d heard about this Weasley. Fenrir Greyback had gotten to him during the first battle at Hogwarts. Draco felt a pang of guilt.

“So you’re to be dining with my family tonight?” the Weasley asked. He didn’t look friendly by any means, but he didn’t look hostile either.

“Yes,” Draco replied.

“Do you have anything to wear?”

For a moment, Draco fondly recalled his large walk-in closet at Malfoy Manor that contained numerous custom-made dress robes.

“No.”

“Well,” the Weasley said, “Ginny has requested that I lend you something.”

“Oh, right,” Draco said.

“Come with me,” the Weasley said, turning around.

Blaise shot Draco a look, but he waved him off.

They walked in silence, taking the lift to the Upper Deck. The cabin was empty, much to Draco’s relief, as he didn’t want to have to deal with more than one Weasley at a time, especially since this one was intimidating as is.

The room, or rather suite, was spacious and elaborately decorated. The Weasley crossed the sitting area and beckoned Draco to follow him into a bedroom.

Given the female amenities neatly arranged across the dresser, Draco figured the Weasley was married. Perhaps this is the one that had married Fleur Delacour.

The Weasley swung open the doors to a large armoire, revealing several dress robes.

“Take your pick,” he said, stepping aside for Draco to access.

Draco felt his face grow hot. It was one thing to face your poverty, but it was another thing entirely to face it in the presence of a stranger. This seemingly simple task of selecting a set of dress robes to borrow for one evening was too humiliating for him.

Draco closed his eyes and envisioned his old closet once again, picturing the rows and rows of neatly pressed dress robes on hangers. There were all sorts of colors and fabrics, navy blue, pinstriped gray, midnight black, emerald and olive greens…

“Look, I know this is a bit awkward,” the Weasley said, interrupting his thoughts. “Try this one.” He handed Draco a set of charcoal gray dress robes.

Draco took them quietly. They really were a smart set of robes. Even still, he’d be wearing someone else’s.

“There’s a bathroom behind that door,” the Weasley said.

Draco took the robes and entered the bathroom. He dressed quickly and stared at his reflection in the mirror. They fit rather well, considering he wasn’t nearly as tall as the wizard who owned the robes. He actually looked quite nice.

He emerged from the bathroom and found that the Weasley was no longer alone. He’d been right, as Fleur sat on the edge of the bed, eyeing him with interest. Her very pregnant belly swelled in front of her.

Draco was a little embarrassed by her presence.

“Oh, Malfoy,” Fleur said, her French accent still thick. “You look so very handsome in deez robes.”

She turned to look at her husband. “Bill, please say you’ll let him keep them!”

Bill laughed nervously. “Well, Malfoy, I must say you clean up nicely. It’s a shame those robes don’t fit me anymore. Why don’t you keep them?”

Draco knew that the two were being kind, and hadn’t meant to offend him, but he felt that being offered charity was worse than borrowing something.

“I couldn’t do that,” he said. “Thank you for allowing me to borrow these tonight. I’ll have them returned to you.”

Fleur shook her head. “No, you must take zem! Bill has grown…how you say…a little ‘eavy?” She playfully slapped a hand against Bill’s abdomen.

She rose to her feet and Bill gave her his hand to steady her. She placed a hand against her back as she walked towards Draco, stopping directly in front of him.

Draco felt lightheaded for a short moment. He recalled just how much effect this woman had on all the young wizards at Hogwarts all those years ago.

Her pale blonde hair, much like Draco’s, was tucked neatly behind her head in a chignon, a few loose tendrils framing her thin face. Her deep blue eyes bore into his and he fought the urge to lose himself in them.

“You must keep them, please,” she said, smiling at him.

He nodded slowly, unable to do much anything else.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you with shoes,” Draco heard Bill say.

Draco blinked, remembering that there was a third person in the room. Fleur moved away from him.

“Oh, that’s quite all right, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Draco said. “Thank you.”

He returned to his own cabin to find Blaise taking a nap. His friend snorted awake once the door closed behind Draco.

“Well look at you! In Weasley threads,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Not bad, my friend.”

“I’m wearing your dragon hide boots,” Draco said, rummaging through their shared closet.

“You need to do something with your hair, mate,” Blaise said.

Draco turned to stare at him. “What’s wrong with it?”

“You look…scruffy.”

“Well, I’m not cutting it shorter.”

“No, but do something. Here…” Blaise jumped off his bed and pulled out his wand. He pointed it at Draco’s head.

“Now hang on a second, what do you think you’re-”

Blue tufts of smoke tingled at his scalp. Draco blinked at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was still long, but the boyhood sheen he hadn’t seen in many years had returned. He fingered his ponytail. It now looked and felt feather light.

Draco smirked at Blaise. “Queer.”

Blaise shook his head at him. “You’d better going, it’s quarter ‘til seven. Be sure you’re home by midnight, or that glossy hair will vanish.”

Draco made a face at Blaise and took one last look in the mirror. He looked…nice. In fact, he didn’t look like the poverty-stricken ex-convict anymore. He looked more like his old self. He knew his mother would be proud if she could see him now. She’d say that he looked just like his father.

He headed towards the grand dining room and followed the other wizards and witches wearing smart dress robes. Some of them looked at him, and once recognition dawned on them, they turned to whisper to each other.

He descended a large marble staircase, casually looking about. It was rather nice.

There was a wizard playing a piano near the foot of the staircase, and waiters and waitresses bustled about, offering drinks to guests.

He shifted awkwardly, waiting for any sign of a Weasley. He was beginning to become annoyed by all the staring.

And then he saw Potter begin to climb down the stairs, his arm linked with the Weasley matriarch. Right behind them was Ginny.

His mouth dropped slightly as he watched her gather her fancy blue dress robes to descend the stairs. The corset was form fitting, and the rest of the robes billowed out at her waist. Her hair was pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. She wore a simple diamond pendant around her neck.

He couldn’t help but to smile at her frazzled expression as she struggled to stay upright in her obviously uncomfortable robes. Once she was halfway down the stairs, she took notice of him.

She smiled, taking a delicate hand to brush a few loose strands of her out of her eyes.

She was beautiful. Maybe Blaise was right, maybe he was smitten.

“Draco,” Ginny greeted him.

“Ginny,” he said, nodding. He took her hand and lightly brushed his lips against it, bowing slightly. Her face flushed in response.

“Shall we?” he asked, extending his arm to her. She took it willingly. Her grip was gentle and comforting, especially in a room full of unfriendly strangers.

As they headed towards the dining room, he noticed people staring at them wide-eyed. He expected her to become self-conscious and pull away from him. He suddenly realized how damaging this must be for her – for the great Harry Potter’s fiancée to walk in with the incorrigible Malfoy, who’d just been released from Azkaban no less.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he should’ve stayed in with Blaise tonight instead of getting dressed up and pretending he was something he was no more.

He was startled when he felt her pull him closer to her.

“Those vultures,” she whispered to him, laughing. “This will certainly give them something to talk about.” She raised her chin haughtily and the two of them entered the dining room.

They approached a table of Weasleys.

Potter and Molly Weasley had just arrived as well, and he was helping her into a chair. They both stopped when they noticed Draco and Ginny.

All of Draco’s doubts in attending this evening disappeared as he noticed Potter’s reaction. His mouth hung open at he stared first at Draco, and then at Ginny’s arm in his.

Molly fumbled back to her feet and Draco stepped aside. She took her daughter’s hands and twirled her around.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, Ginny,” Molly said.

“Oh, Mum, you said this when I was getting ready with you,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes, but clearly flattered at the same time.

Draco didn’t think it was possible for a woman to gush so much. The interaction between mother and daughter made him feel awkward and out of place.

“Oh my,” Molly said, suddenly turning to look at Draco. “Don’t you look handsome. I’m so glad you could join us.”

Draco thought he hadn’t heard her correctly. Did she just pay him a compliment?

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley,” he said, bowing slightly. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“And so charming,” she said, beaming at him.

Draco caught Ginny’s eye, who was smirking at him. Harry on the other hand looked livid.

They all took a seat and Draco found himself sitting in-between Arthur and Charlie Weasley. The Weasley patriarch barely spoke a word to Draco, but he reassured himself that it had more to do with the fact that the Minister was sitting on his other side. However, he found that Charlie was quite amicable.

“So Draco, what is it that you do nowadays?” Charlie asked him.

Draco pretended to be preoccupied with his Yorkshire Pudding as he formulated a response. He’d been asked this before, but there was no way to spin his current disposition into something glamorous.

“I’m working on different investments right now,” he said casually, hoping that the ambiguity of his response would keep Charlie at bay.

“Oh, that’s good,” Charlie said.

“I hear that you work with dragons?” Draco asked.

“Yes, I was in Romania for quite some time, but I’m now traveling between Scotland and Norway.”

Ginny sat across from him and she would make ridiculous faces at him when no one was watching. Potter sat next to her, and although Draco did his best to avoid looking in his direction, he seemed to be consistently glaring daggers at him.

And whenever Ginny wasn’t watching, Draco couldn’t help but to stare at her, marveling at how her skin glowed, or how her eyes danced with amusement as she laughed with the sister-in-law seated on her other side.

He also couldn’t tear his eyes away whenever Potter would lean in to whisper something into her ear, placing a hand against her back as he did so. At one point, Potter positioned his hand on top of hers, gently rubbing her fingers. It disturbed him to find his own hands balling into fists at the site of this. The two of them were engaged to be married, why should a harmless and endearing gesture bother him?

After dinner the guests rose to dance. Draco watched as Harry offered his hand to Ginny, lifting her to her feet. The two of them disappeared among the many couples.

“I’m unattached as well,” Charlie said. “But that doesn’t mean a man can’t enjoy dancing with the beautiful single women.” He rose to his feet. “Here, let me introduce you to someone.”

Draco moved slowly behind Charlie as they approached two blonde witches, seated at a table not too far from theirs.

“Draco, this is Miss Amber and Daphne Greengrass,” Charlie said.

Draco took Amber’s hand and lightly brushed his lips against it. “Nice to meet you.”

“Charmed,” she said, but her eyes were on Charlie as she gave him a devilish grin.

Daphne smirked at him, as he did the same with her. “Malfoy, you rascal,” she teased. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“Hoping you’d grace me with a dance,” he said, returning her smirk.

“Of course,” she said, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

They moved towards the dance floor, one hand on her waist, and the other gripping her hand gently.

“How many sisters do you have?” he asked her.

“Five. Astoria and I are the youngest,” Daphne said.

They danced gracefully, as Draco took the lead with Daphne matching each of his steps. They must’ve looked like quite the pair, as some people stopped to stare at them.

“You’ve still got it in you,” Daphne said. “Always the charismatic dancer.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Draco said. “So tell me, why hasn’t a handsome, rich wizard whisked you off your feet yet?”

Daphne laughed, her blue eyes sparkling against her white dress robes. “I break too many hearts to settle down, Draco. You should know that.”

The two had briefly dated at school until they found that they were much too similar. There was only enough room for one narcissistic and short-tempered personality.

He enjoyed her company. She hadn’t changed much over the years. She was still as beautiful and cynical as ever. They danced for two songs before she disappeared to entertain herself with other eager men.

Draco noticed that Potter was now dancing with Gabrielle Delacour. He wondered where Ginny had gone.

“I was wondering when you’d become free for a dance.”

He turned around to see Ginny standing before him. Her face was slightly flushed from dancing.

He gave her a small smile. “May I have this dance?”

She nodded, and he took her hand as they moved amidst the other dancing people.

“I’m impressed,” Draco said, placing a hand against the small of her back as they danced. “You dance very well.”

“Well that’s no good,” she said. “Weasleys aren’t supposed to be cultured and refined.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Malfoy, it was a joke,” she said, laughing. “Lighten up.”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“You aren’t so bad yourself. In fact, you look quite nice tonight,” she said, meeting his gaze for a moment before looking away quickly. “Are these robes new?”

Draco blinked at her. Was she teasing him? After all, she’d been the one to send Bill after him.

“They’re very nice,” she mused, allowing a hand to run across one of his sleeves. “They bring out your eyes.”

“Thank you,” he said. “And if I may say so, you really do look beautiful tonight.”

She blushed. “Look at us, a Malfoy and a Weasley making nice with one another.”

“Why do we still have to be defined by our family names? I’m Draco and you’re Ginny. That’s all that matters.”

Ginny stared at him with a peculiar expression on her face. Her eyes bore into his and he saw that controlled emotion burning behind her gaze. He pulled her closer to him so that their bodies were almost touching. She smelled like freshly bloomed orchids.

“These dances are an awful bore,” she said, looking away from him once again.

He smirked. “Let’s get away.”

“What?” she asked, her eyes meeting his again. “I-I don’t know.”

“Come on,” he urged. “Trust me.”

“Okay.”

They looked about each other, making sure no one was watching them. He took her hand in his and darted out of the dining hall, ascending the stairs two at a time.

She giggled as he tugged her behind him. “This is all so sneaky. Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he said.

“Draco,” she said, her breathing slightly rapid, “I think there’s someone following us.”

He turned around to see a shadowy figure trailing behind them.

For a moment he thought that their rendezvous would have to end and she’d return to her world, and he to his.

“Go, go!” she cried, her hands gently pressing him forward.

They began to hurry down a corridor unfamiliar to Draco. They passed by several cabins.

His heart was racing at the thrill of the situation. He could hear their jagged breathing and the sound of their shoes thumping against the floor. The doors of all the cabins became one blurred image.

“In here,” she said, pulling him towards a narrow hallway.

They passed by several Emergency Floo Networks. At the end of the hallway was a door.

Ginny took out her wand. “Alohomora!”

The door opened with a soft click. They hurried inside, slamming it shut behind them. They were in a dark stairwell.

“Where does this go?” he asked.

“The Lower Deck,” she said.

The clambered down the stairs and sure enough, once they’d reached the bottom, they were in the Lower Deck lobby.

They stopped to catch their breath.

“Well, that was something,” Ginny said, laughing. Her hair had now fallen loose into soft waves and framed her heart-shaped face.

“Well, this is where I was going to bring you any how,” Draco said, smoothing out his robes.

He took her hand and the two of them made their way towards a double door entranceway.

“What is this place?” she asked. He felt her squeeze his hand tightly.

“It’s a night club where us po’ folk entertain ourselves,” he said.

As soon as they walked through the doors, the sound of lively music engulfed them. The club was spacious and dimly lit. A bar was situated in the middle, where many people were gathered. Just beyond the bar was a dance floor, complete with flashy lights and smoke, for a dramatic effect.

She clung to his arm as they made their way through the nightclub.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked her, leaning into her ear so she could hear him over the music.

“No, I’m all right for now,” she said.

They stood at the edge of the dance floor, watching dozens and dozens of people gyrating to the music.

“I don’t know about this, Draco,” she said. “I’ve never danced like that.”

“It’ll be fun,” he reassured her. “It’s much better than ballroom dancing.” He pulled her onto the dance floor, keeping her close.

He shifted a little, attempting to get the rhythm, all the while, keeping his gaze on her. She bit her lip in hesitation, watching his footwork.

“Here,” he said, pulling her against him. He placed his hands on her waist. “Is this all right?”

“N-no…yes…it’s all right,” she said, refusing to meet his eyes.

He guided her body so that her movements met his. She was stiff and rigid at first, but eventually she let her guard down. She laughed as he twirled her around, dipping her low and bringing his face a mere inch away from hers. Her eyes widened and he noticed her breath catch in her throat as she held onto him.

As the music began to pick up, the entire room was jumping. It was difficult to see with the number of people surrounding them, the blinding lights, and the smoke that encircled them.

Ginny had gotten the hang of things and was now moving her hips against Draco’s. She was waving her arms about her, a smile on her face as she sang along to the lyrics with the rest of the crowd.

He slid a hand down her back, stopping it dangerously low. He liked how soft her body was, and how it felt against his again. The heat emanating from her sent chills down his spine. He leaned in slightly so that her chest was barely touching his.

She twirled herself around so that her back was against his chest. She took his hands and placed them on her own hips. He gently assuaged her body through the silky fabric of her robes. She placed her hands on his, encouraging him.

For a moment Ginny turned her face to look up at him. Their eyes locked and Draco saw a deep emotion in her eyes that he couldn’t read. Her hair now clung to her face with sweat. She was breathing rapidly. Her makeup had run dry and was replaced with a pinkish glow. But Draco thought she’d never looked better. She looked free.

His heart thudded against his chest and the music sounded faraway…the dancing people became fuzzy patterns of light. He could feel his own sweat dripping down his neck. He could hear her breathing quicken and feel her body heave against his own. She was so soft…so lithe. Her closeness to him was intoxicating.

Her lips parted ever so slightly. He leaned in, attempting to close the gap between them. She closed her eyes, anticipating their contact.

But Draco thought of the numerous Weasleys who’d been cordial with him during dinner. He thought of Bill who’d merely used Ginny as an excuse to offer Draco something to wear. He thought of Molly who’d told him he looked nice when other people had given him shifty glances. He thought of Charlie who’d talked to him about all sorts of things, no questions asked, making Draco feel like a normal person.

And then he thought of the girl in his arms, so willing for Draco to kiss her. She was so beautiful, so full of energy. He was a fool, but he couldn’t seem to do it.

He released Ginny and her eyes flew open in surprise.

Draco gave her a small smile. “It’s getting a bit late. I think your family will begin to worry.”

Her eyes darkened. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think of that when we left the dining hall in the first place.”

“Ginny,” he said, softly, unsure if she could hear him over the music. He cupped the side of her face, running his fingers gently through her hair.

He felt her shiver slightly and her expression relaxed. “Let’s go.”

They barely spoke a word to each other as he walked her back to her cabin. When they approached her door, he waited as she pulled out her key.

“Draco, I-” she began to speak, but faltered, as if trying to formulate the right words.

“Thank you for having me for dinner. It was lovely,” he said quickly, nodding slightly.

She blinked at him, her expression unreadable. “Oh, Draco,” she said, a trace of sadness in her voice. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“I beg your pardon?” he asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“Treat me as the others do.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I know.”

There was an awkward silence between them.

His racing heart had not skipped a beat since their almost kiss in the nightclub. He waited for her to place her hand on her doorknob, signaling that the night was truly over. But she didn’t.

“Goodnight,” he said, desperate to end the deafening quiet that had settled between them. He knew what she wanted, because that was what he wanted as well. He took a step back.

A wave of disappointment spread across her face. She nodded. “Goodnight.” Her hand finally touched the doorknob and she let herself in, shutting the door without another look at him.