On August 10th Jane woke up and pushed the covers off with her feet. She slowly stretched out, and then, mid-stretch, she remembered what the day was. Jumping out of bed she rushed to the shower.

This was a very special day for Jane. Today, Jane was moving to England!

She hadn't been planning this move for very long; less then a month in fact. But once she made the decision, everything sort of fell into place; like magic.

Now most people wouldn't just decide to move to another county without giving it a lot of thought. But, well, Jane wasn't most people. Jane wasn't the kind of person to methodically plan. She was the kind that jumped right in and let the world lead her where it willed.

Had she always been like that? Well, Jane often wondered that same question, because Jane can only remember as far back as about three years ago.

Jane is a mystery.

One day Jane woke up in a hospital bed in Savannah, Georgia without any clue as to who she was. Despite the fact she'd been unconscious for over three months, as far as the doctors could tell, she was perfectly healthy. No signs of any trauma to the head. She talked to psychiatrists. She spoke to psychologists. She even conversed with a lady who put her under hypnosis. But after it was all done, she still had no clue who she was; nor did anybody else.

The police were baffled. They couldn't find any leads. No identification of any kind. No missing person report. Not even any dental records! The only item she had been found with, other then the clothes on her back, was a delicate silver ring linked through a thin silver chain. All they knew was she talked funny, and was obviously not from around there.

Eventually, the hospital let her go - she was healthy after all. The town hall issued her identification under the name Jane Thorn. She chose Jane because everybody at the hospital had called her Jane Doe, and she was rather fond of the Jane part. And Thorn because some of the hospital employees would bring her flowers, roses specifically (which she loved), and she would always laugh at herself when she was pricked by the thorns.

She stayed in Savannah for about a year. She loved being close to the ocean, and was fascinated by the natural beauty there. But, it just didn't feel right. So after about a year she moved to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

She liked it better there. Philly didn't have the natural charm of Savannah, but it did have a rich history she loved. And she found the busy city fit her well.

She had survived that year by doing odd jobs for the hospital. And when she decided to move, everyone who worked there was sad to see her go. She had been a favorite patient and worker, but they knew she needed to find out about her past. So a group of people called Friends of the Hospital helped her with the expenses to get to Philadelphia. Some people at the hospital used their connections to find her a small apartment. They even helped her get a job with a daycare center only a block from where she lived.

Jane loved working at the daycare! She was a natural with kids.

Jane made friends easily. But she yearned for family, and she knew Philadelphia wasn't where she would find them.

Jane loved looking at travel guides. She was always attracted to the ones about England. So once she made up her mind to leave Philly, London was her destination of choice. And today was the big day!

Once she showered and finished off her packing a friend from the daycare drove her to the airport.

Jane didn't like airports. There was something about flying around in a big piece of metal that didn't feel right to her. And she couldn't help wondering how they managed to stay up? Despite her fear, she boarded the plane and made the journey over the ocean to the one place she really felt drawn to.

Arriving in London, a rental agent picked her up from the airport and took her to her furnished flat on Tottenham Court Road.

Jane was exhausted! If she had still been in Philadelphia, it would have been past midnight. So she dropped all her things by the entrance and set off to find her bedroom. She would unpack later.

Her plan was to get a good nights rest, and explore the city the next day. Maybe look for any daycares that needed extra help.

But Jane's day would not go as planned.

After only a few hours of sleep, at 9am, London time, she was awoken by a tapping sound. Sitting up she looked around for the source of the disturbance. Then she heard it again.

Tap, tap, tap.

It seemed to be coming from the window. She turned her head, and sure enough, sitting on the window ledge was a small tan owl, tapping on the glass.

As odd as this sight was, it wasn't the first time Jane had seen owls acting strangely. During her two years in Philadelphia, she would occasional notice envelopes lying on the doorstep of her apartment. She had never really paid them much attention, until one morning when she walked out of the building and was surprised by an object falling out of the sky and hitting her on the head! Looking up, she saw an owl soaring away. And when she looked down she saw another of those envelopes laying on the step. It appeared to have a name written on it; 'Weasel' or something. Jane didn't observe it too closely.

And now, here she was, over 3000 miles away, staring at an owl pecking at her window.

Jane rolled off the bed and walked over, planning to shoo the owl away, but as soon as the window opened, the bird hopped in. Then it did something very bizarre. Carefully balancing itself, the owl kicked one of its feet in the air. And that's when Jane saw the small envelope tied to the animal's leg. It seemed to be waiting for something. So she bent down and untied the envelope. As soon as she did, the bird jumped back to the window, and flew off.

Jane was perplexed.

Written in bright red across the face of the envelope was the name, 'Ginny Weasley'.

Ginny Weasley. Weasley. Maybe that was the name she saw on that other envelope!

Jane began to pace the room, trying to decide whether or not to open it. It wasn't for her; but it was brought to her.

After some consideration, she opened it.

Dear Ginny,

Happy Birthday love! I hope you're well, wherever you are. Your father keeps telling me to quit writing you, but I tell him, that I will continue to write until a letter comes back undeliverable!

Things here are fine. George's shop is doing so well. Ron's working there now! I think he is close to proposing to Hermione. But he never tells me anything, of course, so I can only suspect. Charlie got a rather nasty burn a few months ago. He came to stay for a few weeks after that. I think they were pushing him a bit hard. Percy met a girl recently, Audrey something. She's very nice. He still doesn't come home for family dinners much but it's getting better I think. Your father has added quite a bit to his muggle collection out in the shed. The latest contraption he brought home was something called a Food Processor.

The house seems so quiet with you gone. Ron's made a habit of staying at George's a few nights a week, and on the weekends he's off with Harry or Hermione. Harry is, well, he's Harry; brave front and all that.

We all miss you terribly dear and send our love. If you get this, come home to us or at least drop us an owl. I know I ask every time, but one day I know you will.

All my love,
Mum

Whoever this Ginny person was, it was clear her family missed her. Jane thought for a minute and decided she needed to reply; let this poor woman know the letter had not reached her daughter. The letter said to 'drop an owl'. Where would she find an owl? And how would she make it send a letter?

Feeling rather frustrated, Jane decided she needed to take a walk and clear her head.

Grabbing a jacket, Jane headed out her door, stuffing the letter in her pocket. As she walked down the streets of London, she looked through all the shop windows she past by; but didn't go in any of them. She just kept walking; not really paying any attention to where she was going.

Looking up at the shop signs, she saw one that read, The Leaky Cauldron. The name was very intriguing, and she decided to go in and see what sort of place it was.

Stepping through the door, she instantly decided it was not your typical shop. It looked like a pub of some sort, but every single person was dressed in a most peculiar way. Jane let out a small laugh as she took it all in. Then she spotted a man sitting at a table with an owl perched on his shoulder. Jane couldn't believe her eyes! Taking a deep breath, she walked up to the man.

"Excuse me sir," she said, "I couldn't help but notice the bird you have sitting on your shoulder."

"Oriel." He said.

"Pardon me?"

"Her name is Oriel. A beauty isn't she!" The man cast a loving look at the creature.

"Um… yes. A beauty," Jane replied. "Like I said, I couldn't help but notice her, and I was hoping you could help me with something. An owl came to my window this morning, and left this at my flat." Pulling out the letter, she held it up for the man to see. Jane had expected some sort of reaction; an owl delivering a letter! But he just sat there, as if it was a perfectly normal thing to have happen. So she continued on, "I wanted to send a reply to the woman who sent it to me, but I'm not sure how. Could you help me?"

The man gave her a puzzled look. "Help you? Do you want to borrow Oriel?"

"I suppose? I've never sent anything by owl before. I'm not sure how it works."

"Never sent anything by owl?" He sounded rather astonished.

"No sir."

"Well, certainly I can help! Where's your parchment?"

"Parchment?"

"You don't have any parchment? I'm afraid I don't have any with me dear. I suppose you can write on the back of that one," he said, pointing to the letter still clutched in her hand. Standing up he walked over to the bar and spoke to a man behind the counter. A minute later he returned with a large feather in his hand, which he handed to her. Taking the feather she stared at it for a second, and then noticed the bottom was sharpened and appeared to have ink on it. Catching on, Jane neatly scribbled a message on the back of the letter.

Dear Madam,

I received this earlier today. I'm sorry to say it did not reach your daughter Ginny.

Apologies,
Jane Thorn

It didn't sound very pleasant, but Jane really didn't know what to say. She handed the paper to the man.

Looking down at it, he said, "Where should it be sent?"

"Oh, I'm not sure! There was no address."

"You don't need an address dear; just write down who it's for. Oriel will find them!"

Taking the letter back, Jane thought for a moment before deciding on 'Ginny's Mother'. She had no idea if that would be enough to find the woman, but without knowing an actual name it was the best she could do.

After the owl flew off, Ginny extended her thank you to the man and left the pub; laughing at herself over what she had just done.

So caught up in replying to the woman's letter, Jane didn't pay any attention to the tall man with bright red hair that walked in. Too busy laughing at herself, she missed the loud gasp that came from the other side of the room. And because she didn't linger, Jane never heard the sound of a glass shattering as it hit the stone floor.

After leaving the pub, Jane continued to walk around the city. She saw a place to buy fish and chips (a perfect British lunch in her opinion) located next to a little public garden. The garden was overgrown but had clean benches so seemed like a perfect place to have her lunch.

When she finished her meal she continued exploring the city. She passed several museums but didn't stop until she came to one about Egypt. Jane didn't know why, but she felt herself drawn to the place, and as a light rain was starting to fall she decided to step in and have a look.

The museum was fascinating! At every turn, she found something that caught her eye. And although she was enjoying herself she kept having this odd feeling, a sort of prickling down her spine.

As she finished looking at a rather disturbing display of skeletons sitting in over-sized pots, she turned and caught a man looking at her. He was a pudgy looking man in a tan suit and bow-tie, with a name tag showing he worked at the museum. He quickly looked away and so she continued on, thinking nothing of it. But she noticed the man always seemed to be close by and would speedily look away when they made eye contact.

Jane was being watched.

Jane had no idea who the man was or why she seemed to have attracted his attention, but with an explanation for the odd, prickly feeling identified, Jane hurried through the rest of the museum and back onto the busy London streets.

It was getting late in the day and she wanted to head back to her flat and begin the process of unpacking. She just had to figure out where her flat was.

She starting walking in the general direction she thought she should go, but got distracted thinking about the little man at the museum (and how disturbing it was to think a stranger was watching you) that she completely lost track of where she was going until she suddenly realized she was standing in front of her flat.

Well, that was lucky.

---

Standing in the kitchen, Molly Weasley gazed absentmindedly out the window. She saw the sun peek out for a moment, only to be swallowed once more by the clouds which had been present all day. A small puff of dust rose into the air as a few mischievous garden gnomes dug into her meticulously planted vegetable beds.

For most, it was a perfectly normal day; nothing particularly special about it. But for her, it was bittersweet. Today was her baby girl's birthday. But her baby girl wasn't there. She was missing.

After Molly had woken, finished off the business of making breakfast for her family, and got them off to work, she had settled down at her kitchen table and wrote her daughter a happy birthday letter, just as she had the previous three years.

She used to write more often. But with each letter, Molly would be on edge waiting for a response. And when none came, her heart would ache a bit more; a sort of depression settling over her for weeks after.

Her husband couldn't stand to see her in such a state and sat her down for a heart to heart a year ago. It wasn't that he wanted her to give up on them ever finding their baby, but he did want her to accept the fact they may never do so, and Molly needed to move past her grief.

Bollocks! Move past her grief. What nonsense! A mother does not stop worrying for her children; even more so if a child has simply gone missing without a trace. As long as there was breath in her body, Molly Weasley would not 'move past her grief' or give up on finding their Ginny. And Arthur Weasley, Merlin love the man, could shove it!

Molly turned her head to look at the family clock; it was a marvelous invention. The clock showed where each member of her family was. It had been damaged a few months before the Battle of Hogwarts, and setting it right again hadn't been made a priority. Eventually, it had been mended, but Ginny had gone missing by that time, and since she'd already come of age, the clock needed her consent to track her. Without her there to give it, Ginny's hand on the clock was stuck in 'Lost'.

Shaking herself out of her reverie, Molly started making a mental list of what she still wanted to do that day. Chucking a few gnomes was certainly on it.

Mrs. Weasley wasn't expecting anyone home for a few more hours, so she was quite startled when she heard a pop, and even more startled when her youngest son came running into the kitchen.

"MUM, MUM," he shouted, "I SAW HER! I SAW HER, MUM!"

Taking hold of his arms as he wildly waved them about, Mrs. Weasley tried to calm him so she could properly hear what he was going on about. "Saw her? Who are you talking about, dear?"

"GINNY, I SAW GINNY!"

Mrs. Weasley took a second to fully comprehend what he'd just said.

She had given birth to seven children, and running a household of that size was not for sissies. It had been noted over the years that Molly Weasley was not a woman you wanted to mess with. So when she drew herself up to her full height, and placed her hands on her hips, Ronald Weasley flinched out of habit.

"Ronald Weasley," she stormed, "that is not something you joke about!"

"I'm not joking, Mum!" he replied. "Really, I saw her! She was in The Leaky Cauldron! I called out and tried to run after her, but by the time I got through the crowd and outside she was gone. I looked for over an hour but couldn't find her anywhere! I know it was her, Mum, I know it was."

Feeling a little faint, Mrs. Weasley grabbed onto the table to steady herself. Looking out her window, she noticed a letter laying on the sill. Rushing over, she threw open the pane and saw the words 'Ginny's Mother' displayed. Unfolding the parchment, she realized it was the letter she'd written to Ginny just that morning. She hastily read, and then re-read the words that had been freshly added to the back.

"Ron," Mrs. Weasley whispered, "go get your father."

Plopping down onto a kitchen chair, she clutched the letter and took in a long shaky breath. Molly knew it would do no good to get her hopes up. So Ron thought he'd seen her; it wouldn't be the first time. Molly herself saw her daughter every day. She would catch a glimpse of red and swear it was Ginny's hair. Or she would see a broom sweep by overhead and think the flyer sat on the broom just the way her Ginny did. There was always something around that reminded Molly of her little girl, and, occasionally, there had been times she thought they really had found her. But there had been something in Ron's voice this time. Something, different. Something confident.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting there before she heard the 'pop' of apparition outside. Seconds later, her husband's head appeared in the kitchen doorway.

Graying, and walking slightly slumped with age, Arthur Weasley had been her center of strength for over 30 years. Seeing him now sent an odd mix of joy and calm through her. He would know what to do.

Within an hour, the Weasley abode (lovingly nicknamed the Burrow) had started to fill up. When Ron had disapparated to the Ministry of Magic to get his father, he'd seen his girlfriend Hermione Granger, who also worked at the Ministry, and quickly shouted to her what had happened. Hermione ran to the Aurors office, and relayed to their best friend, Harry Potter, what Ron had been yelling about. She really hadn't caught much of it. But she'd heard him shouting about Ginny, and knew from Ron's flustered behavior something was going on. And so, they too, set off for the Weasley's.

Arthur sent messages to Ron's brothers, via Patronus Charm, letting them know they were needed at the Burrow as soon as possible. Of the four, only George, along with his wife Angelina, had been able to come right away. Bill had been home, but received an urgent message from work just as the Patronus arrived, so his wife Fleur, and their young daughter, Victoire, had gone to the Burrow in his place.

The group assembled in the living room and Molly wanted to reveal the newest bit of information once all the family had arrived. But not knowing how long that would be, she relented and allowed Ron to tell his story.

"I'd just walked into The Leaky Cauldron", he began, a faint pop sounding outside. "I sat down and ordered my drink. I noticed someone with red hair on the other side of the room, but didn't pay any attention until she started walking toward the door. I only saw her back at first, but when she opened the door, she sort of twisted around and that's when I saw her face... it was Ginny. I know it was Ginny."

"Ron," Hermione started, voicing what others in the room were thinking, "we've all thought we've seen her before, but I don't believe Ginny could suddenly show up in Diagon Alley and no one else see her."

"I know what my sister looks like!" he yelled. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he quickly apologized, "I didn't mean to yell at you. And yes", he said taking a calming breath, "there have been a few times in the past, when I saw someone who looked like her. But this is different. I swear to Merlin the woman I saw at The Leaky Cauldron was Ginny."

"I know you believe it was," Hermione soothed, "but, maybe you just saw someone with red hair and wanted it to be Ginny?"

"Except he wasn't the only one to see her," came a voice from the doorway. Bill Weasley had arrived, unnoticed, while Ron was recounting his tale. "Hey Mum," he said, giving his mother a quick kiss on the cheek before settling himself on the couch beside his wife.

"Sorry I'm late," he continued. "I got an urgent message from the curator at the Egyptian Museum. He remembers meeting all of you, including Ginny, back when we went to Egypt on holiday. Apparently, a young woman came into the museum today, bearing a striking resemblance to my missing sister. He hadn't seen her in years so couldn't be sure, but thought I ought to know anyway."

"Mum show them the letter," Ron yelled.

The letter, which had up until then, stayed clutched in Mrs. Weasley's hand, was passed for all to read. And re-read.

Everyone was oddly quiet as they took in what they'd just heard and read.

Then the room erupted as everyone began talking at once.

"Why would she sign it Jane Thorn?"

"Why didn't she come to the Burrow?"

"Where could she have possibly been all this time?"

"Do you think she's still in London?"

And other such questions were being shouted over each other. Only Harry remained silent until finally he shouted, "QUIET!"

At the sound of his outburst, everybody settled down, and waited for him to continue.

"If Ginny really is back, we need to find her, as quickly as possible. That name she signed, Jane Thorn, does it sound familiar at all?"

All heads shook, 'No'.

"We have to find a way to contact her again."

"Send another letter," Hermione suggested. "If this Jane Thorn really is Ginny, we should send another letter. The owl found her once, it can find her again."

Jumping up, Mrs. Weasley summoned quill and parchment before running to the kitchen table, where she took a seat. As one, the others stood and followed; crowding around the table.

"What should I write?"

Everyone chimed in with their suggestions, so it took a good half hour before Mrs. Weasley completed the note.

Would you please meet with me at 9:00 tomorrow morning in The Leaky Cauldron? It's a matter of great importance.

Please send your reply with the waiting owl.

Hoping to see you there,
Molly Weasley

A general agreement had been reached to not use either the names Ginny or Jane, since there was confusion about who'd actually received the previous letter. They sent it with Hermes, a family owl, who had very strict instructions to not leave the recipient without a reply; even if he had to peck her all night!

The group all waited impatiently for the reply to come, and became very excited when an owl came flying in, but it wasn't Hermes. A handsome Postal Owl had brought them a message from one of the other Weasley brothers.

Da,
Got your Patronus; haven't been able to get away. Expect me sometime later tonight. I'll get all the details then.

Love,
Charlie

They settled back down and continued waiting in silence; the minutes ticking by at an agonizingly slow pace.

Finally, several hours after he'd flown off, Hermes returned with a piece of parchment tied to his leg. Rushing to the table where the owl had landed, Mrs. Weasley took the note. With shaking hands, she read off the words:

Molly Weasley,
As you can see, I received your message. Yes, I will meet you tomorrow morning at 9:00 in The Leaky Cauldron.

Sincerely,
Jane Thorn
PS…I will be wearing a white sweater.

A loud noise made them all turn to see someone stepping out of the fireplace. Dusting ash from his robes, Percy, the fourth Weasley son, said, "I came as soon as I could, Father."

Moments after Percy's arrival, Charlie appeared. And so, with the whole Weasley clan finally present, all were caught up on the events of the day and discussions began about what would happen tomorrow.

Of course, everyone wanted to be at the meeting, but Mr. Weasley reasoned, "If we all show up, and it's not Ginny, I imagine Ms Thorn will be rather panicky seeing such a large group. And if it is Ginny, well, there's a reason she hasn't come home. I think a small group will be easier than a room full. I say three of us, four at most, should make the trip. Molly will go, and Harry, you should be there in case this turns out to be an Auror matter. As for you boys, which of you would like to go?"

Well, that wasn't the right question. They all wanted to go. But after several minutes of bickering, Bill spoke up loudly, "Ron should be the one to go. Of all of us, Ginny was closest to Ron."

There were mumbles of agreement as Mrs. Weasley surveyed the room. Her large and loving family had been broken after the finally battle. With one son killed, continuing on had been a difficult process. Two years later, her only daughter completely disappeared. The thought of Ginny being reunited with them, and filling that missing piece, had her reaching for a tissue.

The tension that had enveloped the house when the news broke began to dissipate. At least it started to, until a loud, "Ahem", sounded. All heads swiveled to the dark haired man, with lightning bolt shaped scar, who had broken the silence.

"Ummm guys..." Harry Potter began, "there is someone...else ... that should go." An eerie silence took over the room as twenty eyes stared blankly at him.

Shifting uncomfortably under the weight of the stares, Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, you know I'm right," he said.

The twenty eyes began shifting back and forth with each other. They all knew who else was... but none of them wanted to admit it.

Aurors are the finest group of highly specialist officers that exist within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They are an elite fighting unit, whose primary responsibility is to investigate criminal activities related to the Dark Arts.

To become an Auror, one must undertake a rigorous series of training exercises. One must have excellent wand skills, be able to think quickly, be proficient in Charms, Potions, and must be practiced in the art of camouflage.

To be an Auror, one must dedicate themselves to constant training. One must be willing to work unconventional hours, and prepare to be called into service at a moments notice.

To be an Auror means one acknowledges they will be confronted with life and death situations, and face danger head on at every turn!

Harry Potter did not have all the necessary traits to be an Auror. But since he had basically saved all of the Wizarding World, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement made an exception for him.

In his younger days, Harry had not been one to strategically plan or deeply analyze situations; thinking several steps ahead had not been his forte. Through a series of events and prophesies, Harry Potter found himself smack dab in the center of a magical war when he was only a child. He acted on instinct to save himself and those around him. And that is how he spent most of his adolescent years.

Once he vanquished Voldemort, Harry knew he would become an Auror. He also thought, he would marry Ginny Weasley.

When the Battle of Hogwarts had been won, and he could start having a normal life, continuing the romance they had begun in school was high on Harry's list of priorities. But between her returning to Hogwarts for her final year, and the start of his Auror training, the romance was pushed aside. And when he tried to rekindle what they had started, he was too late. To ease his heartbreak, Harry threw himself into training. He excelled in the program and was now considered one of the finest Aurors at the Ministry.

Being an Auror wasn't just a job, it was a part of him. What he learned and practiced everyday was so deeply embedded into his psyche, he couldn't detached his job from his personal life. Which is, possibly, why he was the one to bring up the subject no one else seemed to be thinking of.

Harry did not want to bring him up. Harry would have been perfectly happy if he never had to see that git again in his life. He was the reason Harry and Ginny didn't end up in a happily ever after; married with a large family like they both always wanted.

But like always, his Auror instincts took over. And because his training had taught him to control his emotions, Harry knew they had to speak to the man.

The twenty eyes were still darting around, unwilling to acknowledge what he had said.

Harry sighed, rolling his eyes at their attempts to avoid the truth, and stated,"He was the last person to see Ginny before she went missing. And besides," he choked out, "he loved her".

---

It was a horrible room. The walls were covered in a vertical stripped wallpaper of black and pale muted green. The monstrously large furniture, with it's thick dark wood, was from the Jacobean era and was truly ghastly. The heavy curtains of dark green velvet reached from ceiling to floor and blocked out all light, giving the already imposing room a closed in feeling.

Draco hated the room.

Most days Draco Malfoy was able to ignore the rooms' existence and gave it no thought whatsoever. But then there were days like today, when the room served a very specific purpose.

When the owl arrived informing him guests would be flooing in thirty minutes time, he instructed the house elf to bring them to this room. It's oppressive nature was sure to make them uncomfortable, which means they would want to state their business and leave quickly.

He felt he was doing a spectacular job hiding the smirk lurking beneath his lips at their discomfort. He may have matured since his years at Hogwarts, but some things never change. A Malfoy getting one up on a Weasley was one of those things.

Currently, he was entertaining the patriarch and matriarch of the Weasley household, Ron (their youngest, oafish son) and his bookworm wife, the prankster George, and Harry Potter – the bane of Draco's younger existence.

None of his guests seemed eager to talk, causing a discernible tension in the air, which was broken by a tea cart of refreshments being rolled into the room. A slight flurry of activity began as finger sandwiches were passed out and tea poured.

"Thank you, Kitcher," Hermione said. The elf stared at her for a moment before mumbling a, "You're welcome", and disappearing out the door.

Draco rolled his eyes. Her kink, or whatever it was, with house elves was weird.

The awkward silence descended once more until Hermione spoke up, "So, Draco, how have you been?"

Great, he thought, small talk.

"Well," was his reply. He did not return the question.

Draco didn't consider himself a rude host. Normally, he was accommodating when guests came to visit. But these guests had flooed in, a gaggle of them, uninvited, wanting to convey some bit of news and now they seemed to be struck mute. And as much as he liked watching them squirm, he was starting to lose his patience.

"I was under the impression," he began, as he settled himself on the hideous chair by the gigantic fireplace, "there was some piece of news you wished to share." There, maybe that would get the snitch flying.

"Yes," Harry supplied, trying to swallow a bit of sandwich.

Draco wrinkled his nose. His school yard feuds with Harry, and all the others from his Hogwarts days, had ended. They were civil to each other now, and would nod their 'Hellos' and 'Goodbyes' in public, but they certainly didn't like each other. He had tried. Out of respect for his fiancée he had. He'd only been mildly successful.

"Molly received a letter today," the scar-head continued, "and we think it may be a lead."

"A lead," Draco repeated. "To what?"

Harry hesitated for a moment before saying, "To Ginny." Draco's jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed at the dark haired man sitting in front of him.

"Here," Molly said, taking two letters from her pocket, "I have them." Harry stood and took the letters from Molly's hands. It was the first words she had spoken since her arrival.

The room was quiet as Draco took the letters and read through them. When he looked up again all eyes were on him, eager to see how he would respond.

"What makes you think this woman knows anything about Ginny?" he finally asked.

"Well, you see," Harry said, glancing around the room as if to confirm what he was about to say with the others, "we think Jane is Ginny."

"I sent that letter to Ginny this morning," Mrs. Weasley said, gesturing toward one of the pieces of parchment. "You know I've been sending her letters since she disappeared. I've never gotten any response before. But today, I got that reply. And Ron, Ron saw her! And then," Mrs. Weasley continued, "she was seen at the Egyptian Museum in London!" She was beginning to fidget and her voice was getting higher and faster as she spoke. "On their own none of these things would matter much, but all of them together on the same day isn't a coincidence." She had scooted to the edge of the monstrosity his ancestors considered a couch, and was gripping her husband's hand. The look she was casting was a mixture of joy and anxiousness.

Draco spent the next several minutes sitting in his chair, listening to the events that had transpired that day. After hearing Molly go more in detail about the letters, and Ron recounting what he had seen, and hearing about the sighting at the museum, Draco was left feeling a bit numb.

"So," Harry concluded, "we knew you would want to be at the meeting tomorrow morning. We thought you could meet us there around 8:45?"

There was a slight moment of silence before Draco gave a, "No," as his simple reply.

"No?" Harry asked. "You don't want to go with us to see Ginny?"

Draco tried to control his temper.

"You aren't going to see Ginny. You're going to meet a woman named Jane Thorn. I," he sneered, "have better things to do with my day." Draco stood and shoved the parchment back to Potter. "It was lovely seeing you all again." He hoped he conveyed the appropriate amount of sarcasm. "Kitcher will show you out." And before another word could be spoken he left the room.

Draco kept his composure as his walked to his study, where he slammed the door, stalked to the bar, poured a healthy helping of Firewhisky, then collapsed on the chair behind his desk. Taking a quick drink he felt the alcohol's slight burn as it slid down his throat, before setting the glass down and resting his head back against the cushioned chair.

Draco was irritated.

Over the past few years, Mrs. Weasley would occasionally pop in. At first, it was to interrogate him over the whereabouts of her daughter. Then it was to exchange information or ideas about where she might be. Eventually, her visits became an excuse to talk about Ginny.

Once she was convinced he had nothing to do with the disappearance, Mrs. Weasley and he had become allies in their search for her. They never became close, but he developed an appreciation for the woman, and she was one of the few members of Ginny's family he didn't mind being around.

When Molly Weasley looked at him tonight with so much... hope, Draco thought, just for a second, what she was saying could be true; that Ginny was back. But after that second, common sense took over.

She had been missing three years. Draco used every resource he had to locate her, without anything turning up. There was no reason for her to have left in the first place, much less without telling a soul. One thing Draco was certain of, she didn't leave by her own free will. And his Ginny would not have docilely accepted whatever fate befell her. Which means she couldn't come back. And that could only mean something malicious. He had to move on.

He hadn't, of course. There were too many questions to ever really have closure. But he had resolved to not dwell on what almost was; the life he and she were planning. Ginevra Weasley, for reasons he still couldn't completely comprehend, was the only woman he had ever loved.

Shaking his head, Draco stopped his line of thought before his mind took him to memories he didn't want to recall. He looked at the now empty glass sitting on his desk, then at the bottle of Firewhisky on the bar.

Draco was going to get thoroughly pissed.