In the days following the fall of Voldemort, most of the former Death Eaters had their homes, lands or accounts taken from them. The Malfoys managed to salvage most of their ancestral estate by dint of Narcissa's aid to Harry Potter during the Final Battle. As much as it galled Draco Malfoy to be beholden to him, it was good to at least be able to stay in his own home. He had to answer to various Ministry officials as the newly reformed government tried to reorganize everything.

Draco was clearing through one of the lesser attics at Malfoy Manor. House elves had been banned in the new regime, and this wasn't a task he would have relegated to a house elf anyway. There were too many sensitive artifacts in the attics, and even his father wasn't willing to chance triggering any spells or traps that his ancestors might have laid into them. Malfoy Manor would never harm any Malfoy descendant permanently, but there was any number of temporary curses that could befall him if he wasn't careful.

Sorting through a collection of jewelry, he felt a sharp tingle shoot up his wand arm. Looking about in panic, it took him at least fifteen minutes to calm down. There didn't seem to be any traps sprung open, no curses or jinxes being sent his way. The jewelry had been in his family for at least ten generations, and it was a hopeless tangle of necklaces, bracelets and rings. He had been trying to untangle the mess to see if there was anything worth keeping. Draco couldn't tell which piece had triggered the sensation in his arm, but he also wasn't entirely willing to leave the tangle lying in the dusty attic either. His mother would likely know something about it; though she was a Black, she knew enough about Malfoy family lore and ancient spells worked into jewelry. She knew a lot about esoteric magic, whether it was currently considered dark magic or not.

Once downstairs, Draco couldn't bear to part with the collection of baubles. Even though Narcissa would hardly take anything he wanted to keep, Draco couldn't chance it. He knew it didn't make sense, but there was a dread panic rising with him at the thought of someone going through the collection and potentially taking something important. Most people he knew would be sorely tempted by the treasure he possessed, and Draco was actually breaking out into a cold sweat at the thought that the pieces would be stolen. He had to find someone of upstanding and sterling character to help him evaluate the jewels, someone that would never in a thousand years betray a sacred trust and steal from a patron.

Ginny Weasley had trained with her brother the curse breaker in the years following the Wizarding War, and she had recently opened a shop in downtown Wizarding London. It was a discreet storefront, excellent security and she had an impeccable reputation. While Draco would normally never step foot in such a place or deal with a Weasley, this was hardly an ordinary situation. And as poor as her origins were, the shop had a stellar reputation for being scrupulously honest. She all but had the blessing of the Ministry, so that had to count for something.

Draco thought someone had reached into his chest and broken him open as soon as she touched the tangled mess of jewelry. She deftly pulled it all apart once she determined that there weren't any particularly nasty hexes or curses on the mass, and it didn't take her long at all to sort it out into a pile. He had spent hours trying to detangle the pile, and he stared at her, stunned.

"This is a woman's trove," Ginny told him with a smile, an almost impish cast to her eyes. "You even brought it in the same trinket box. The box itself is spelled so that no man could ever take pieces out of it. So it would never untangle for you as long as they were anywhere near the box. It's an old, old spell. It's meant to keep husbands or brothers from going in and stealing pieces to sell off without a woman's permission."

As her fingers brushed over a particular ring, it felt as if Draco's insides caught fire. He swayed on his feet, nearly crashing into the table they were sitting at. He saw that Ginny had grown frighteningly pale at the same time, her freckles standing out in vivid relief. She seemed ready to faint, which made him feel a little bit better about the strange sensation washing over him. "What--?"

Ginny let out a choked gasp as she realized what she was holding. "Where did you find these?"

"Malfoy attics," Draco replied, also having difficulty getting anything out in a coherent fashion.

"Put this on my hand," she insisted, shoving the ring at him. He didn't know why he listened to her, but he did.

And as soon as he slid the ring onto her left hand, the fiery pain eased. She no longer looked as pale.

"So what in Merlin's name was that?" he groused, feeling vaguely ill somehow.

"Congratulations, Malfoy," Ginny told him, traces of hysteria and disbelief in her tone. "Now we're married."

"What? Say that again, Weasley, I think you said something about being married?"

"That was a binding ring," she said, looking up at him. "As in, in binds two people together irrevocably. This is for life, Malfoy. You can't marry anyone else or you'll die. If you even try to date someone else you'll feel ill."

He stared at her incredulously, but all he could think about was the vivid red of her hair, how her eyes seemed almost golden brown and that he wanted to know if she tasted as good as she looked.

Dear Merlin, what was he thinking?!

"Yeah," she said after a moment, pushing the trinkets back toward the box. He must have some kind of disbelieving noise because she sighed and nodded. "My thoughts exactly."

***

Narcissa Malfoy smiled politely at Ginny as she sat beside Draco. She knew what the binding ring was, and had believed it to be lost. "You must understand, Miss Weasley," Narcissa told her. "Those jewels were locked away for many generations, My husband was not aware that any strong magicks would have remained in the attic possessions. We didn't think this task would have such... serious consequences."

Ginny lofted an eyebrow at Narcissa. Serious consequences seemed like such a mild term for bonding for life to someone she barely knew. Oh, they'd argued and fought in school, but she had no idea what he was like as an adult. She wasn't so prejudiced that she would count schoolboy antics against him or automatically label him evil as many others in the Wizarding World would do. "Needless to say, neither of us expected this outcome to evaluating the spells on that trove of jewelry." She had actually learned quite a bit of diplomacy since her Hogwarts years, and was employing a lot of it now. "But the fact is, the spells are now in place. If either of us develop any kind of romantic attachments to other people, we'll start gettting ill, perhaps even die."

Draco looked at his mother glumly. "It was an accident, but we still need to proceed as if this was something we had intended. I don't plan on dying anytime soon, Mother."

"Of course not," Narcissa said crisply. "There's more than enough room here at the Manor..."

"I'm sorry," Ginny interrupted, "but I couldn't live here, Mrs. Malfoy."

"We have more than enough space." Narcissa was clearly nonplused, not sure how to proceed. A small part of Ginny was actually proud of that fact.

"I have my business to run, and quite frankly, I'm not very comfortable living anywhere near your husband," Ginny said in matter of fact tones. Draco had asked why his father couldn't meet her, but Ginny hadn't given him much more of an explanation than that. The fact that he had to ask told her that he hadn't been involved in any of the Dark Arts his father had been involved in.

Narcissa understood immediately and merely nodded. She had a slightly sour look, but Ginny disregarded that. Narcissa didn't have to like her, and that she didn't ask why Ginny didn't like Lucius Malfoy clearly implied that she knew exactly what had happened. Family enmity wasn't enough to explain the adamant stance that Ginny had taken, especially when she was agreeable enough to see Narcissa and have business dealings with Draco.

After the stilted meeting came to an end, Draco pulled Ginny aside. She ignored the thrill that went through her at his touch, though it was difficult to do so. The old binding rings were meant to enforce fidelity and affection in a marriage, and had been more common when marriages in the upper echelons of Wizarding society were arranged due to social standing. They fell out of favor when more and more people were marrying for love instead of just money.

"What was that about?" he demanded. His body was pressed against hers, and Ginny fought to stand still and not simply grind against him. There was something in his eyes that was more than just wanting to know what went unspoken with his mother. She couldn't tell if it was desire for its own sake or simply because of the binding ring.

"Bad things happened a long time ago," Ginny replied shortly, pushing him slightly away from her. "Nothing we can change now, and nothing that affects us now."

"What do you mean? He's my father and you can't stand to be near him. We're married, you said. I want..." His voice trailed off ineffectually and he took a half step back away from her to run an hand through his hair in an agitated manner. "I don't know what I want. It's probably not even real."

"I need to go home," Ginny told him, nodding. "That ring is changing everything. It's forcing things."

"It's no better than a curse. You're a curse breaker. Can't you do anything about it?"

"I've already started looking," Ginny replied evenly, which only seemed to make her heart clench in her chest. Draco's mood seemed to dip as well. She wasn't sure if she would find the exact spell that had been worked into this particular binding ring, but part of her didn't even want to try. She should ask Bill about that, since he would be unaffected by the binding ring. But part of her didn't want the connection to Draco to break. That part also wanted him to move in with her and share her bed, so she tried her best to push it aside and focus on the matter at hand. "There are dozens of different binding spells, so I need to track down which would be the most likely to have been worked into this ring."

"That could take a long time," Draco remarked. He didn't seem as disturbed by this as he had been the day before in her shop.

"It could," she replied noncomittally.

"I should stay with you," he said with a decisive nod. "If you won't stay here, I'll have to stay with you. To keep you safe, of course."

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she snapped.

"Yes. But you're my wife now. I'm taking that responsibility seriously."

Something inside of her was thrilled at the prospect, but she squelched it ruthlessly. "I have a perfectly good ward system in place. I'm a skilled duellist and curse breaker. I have a successful shop that I run alone. I think I can handle this."

Draco let out a little breath. "I have responsibilities, too, Ginny. And now you're one of them."

"You're only saying that because of this ring."

He shook his head. "I take everything related to my family seriously. It's just about the only thing."

She could hear the sincerity in his voice. Though it was possibly a mistake, she relented. That little part of her was immensely pleased by that prospect.

***

For a man that had a slim build, Draco seemed to take up entirely too much space in Ginny's apartment. Magic meant that his belongings fit neatly alongside hers in the closets and dressers, and there was even his own sink thanks to the duplication spell in her bathroom. It was that she lived in a single bedroom flat above her shop, and there was only one Queen sized bed. Which they would have to share, because Draco absolutely refused to sleep on the couch or allow her to sleep on it. Ginny tried arguing against that move, but he kept shooting that down.

It was odd to go through her usual daily routine with someone else in her flat. Draco followed her around, learning where everything was kept. He was being attentive and thoughtful, which Ginny found disturbing on some level. She didn't know him on any but a superficial level, and he was trying to get to know her on an intimate one. She didn't know how she felt about sharing a bed with him, either. He was being respectful and his attention was more than she had received in years. Maybe that was why some part of her relished his attention.

Draco all but cornered her in her kitchen. "I want to help," he told her. "Need me to do anything?"

Kiss me. Get out. Take my clothes off. Leave. "Um..."

A hand along her elbow jolted her from her tumultuous thoughts, sending a bolt of pure desire through her. "Ginny," he murmured, his fingers curling around the joint and touching her skin.

Their mouths crashed together, tongues tangling and arms wrapping around each other. It was as if they were trying to fuse together, sharing the same breath. When they separated, Ginny was panting for breath and trying to figure out a classy way to invite him to her bed.

"How about we skip dinner?" he offered, a sensual curl to his lips.

She dragged him to the bedroom as her reply.

***

Ginny was stretched out and sore but sated, body curled up around Draco's in her bed. He slept deeply, snoring lightly. She threaded her fingers through his hair, carding it gently. That part of her that the bonding spell seemed to create was comfortable now, pleased that the marriage was finally consummated. Now it seemed as though Draco was even more firmly entrenched in her life, this spell even more fixed into her psyche.

She wanted to be perturbed by this. She wanted to rail against this odd quirk of fate that landed them together, that made Draco care about upholding family traditions. They were bonded for life now, and the thought of marriage used to terrify her. Because of the magical ring on her finger, the terror was overridden. It wasn't the same as being possessed as a young girl, but she had always been leery of not being in control of her own faculties. This desire to be with Draco was an unnatural urge, even if it had its perks. He was an attentive lover, making her writhe and scream for what felt like hours before he had finally merged his body to hers.

There were worse fates, such as being tied to someone horrible, an evil man that she couldn't get away from for the rest of her life.

With that sobering thought, Ginny let her mind wander over various binding spells that might have been in use several generations before. More complicated spells could possibly override willpower, but the individual components of such spells could vary as widely as the practitioner. Even if she could track the root spell, she couldn't guarantee breaking it completely. She could narrow it down, but a large part of her no longer wanted to.

Ginny could always owl Bill with her suspicions, but he would take it seriously and likely see it as a threat of some kind. He wouldn't understand that Draco had been just as trapped by this, just as blindsided. All he had known was that there were spells on the jewelry collection, and he had gone to an expert to try to unravel it. He wasn't stupid enough to set off unknown spells, and it was bad luck that had them both touching that binding ring. It was automatically looking for potential bindings, and it only quieted once he had put the ring onto her finger.

That was it. She nearly bolted upright in bed, but a light snore from Draco stopped her.

It wasn't an ordinary binding ring by any means. It was a seeking binding ring.

There were very few practitioners generations ago that could have crafted a seeking binding ring, which was much more complicated to do than a "simple" binding ring. The spells had to be interwoven together and layered into the actual ring itself, becoming part and parcel of the ring. The spells weren't simply layered over an existing ring, as usual binding rings were. This was a magical object from start to finish, and it was likely that none other than Nicolas Flamel had made it himself. Flamel would never have created a deadly object, and any sense of compulsion would never lead her or Draco onto a harmful path. It was cold comfort, since she was still bound to Draco, but it was comfort nonetheless. The ring was altering her perceptions of him, but it wasn't altering how she felt about his parents, his heritage or anything else about his history.

Almost as if he could tell that she was thinking about him, Draco stirred. He blinked sleepily at her. "This is weird, isn't it?" he asked, sleep slurring his voice slightly.

"How so?" she asked cautiously.

"I never... My parents had plans for me. I never would have broken them, never would have questioned them." His fingers trailed down her arm. "I don't know you very well, but I'd like to. Think we'll suit nicely."

Ginny blinked, not sure how to respond. "I hope so. It's not as though we have any other choice in the matter."

Draco chuckled sleepily. "We could've done worse, I'm sure."

"Oh?"

"You could be stuck living in Potter's shadow the way everyone thought you'd be. I'd be in a loveless marriage of my parents' choosing." Draco propped himself up on an elbow to look at Ginny with her riot of red hair strewn across the pillow, her brown eyes looking at him directly. There was nothing meek about her, even if she was polite enough about it. There was a core of strength in her, always had been. Maybe he had never appreciated it before, but it was a strength of character he had never been encouraged to build. "This is real," he said in a sober tone of voice. "Maybe not what we would have chosen on our own, may not what we expected it to be. But this is real, and I'm sure we could make it work. At least in the bedroom we're compatible."

Ginny laughed, unable to help herself. That silly quirk of his lips was adorable to look at, and Draco had a point. At least he wasn't stupid and wasn't trying to change who she was. "It might be nice to figure out the rest of it."

"Yeah. I'd like to try that."

Pulling him down for a kiss, Ginny smiled. "Me, too."

No need to worry about the binding ring. So what if they were bound for life? So what if it was an accident? Sometimes these kinds of things happened for a reason. Sometimes it worked out.

They were both sure that this was one of those times.

The End