She'd been pacing since he left. Or that's what it felt like. The little patch of carpet between the fireplace and settee in their sitting room was definitely worse for the wear.

Hermione Potter wanted to stop. She did. It was hard, though. Since the moment Ginny's nanny appeared downstairs, pleading with Harry to come with her, that someone was trying to get into Malfoy Manor, Hermione hadn't felt right. The danger was supposed to be gone. Ginny and her children were supposed to be safe.

But with a last name like 'Malfoy' would they ever be safe?

A lot had changed since Harry defeated Lord Voldemort five years ago. The world had become a better place. She and Harry finally married – after the world's longest engagement. Or so it seemed. Four years wasn't that long, honestly. That was what she told herself, anyway.

It never stopped, though. The danger. Hermione knew there would always be a wizard with dark intentions, or a Death Eater looking for the chance to revive his lord, or someone wanting to take advantage of The Boy Who Lived. She also knew that being Mrs. Harry Potter; she was a target as well. And that was a decision she made for herself.

Ginny, however, did not. There shouldn't have been danger in marrying Malfoy. Yes, his father was a Death Eater. But Hermione knew enough about tradition and magic to know that once Draco married, his father became powerless. Except it hadn't quite worked out that way.

Lucius Malfoy sold his soul to the devil long ago, for a bit of power. And the devil allowed him to hold onto it, for much longer than was right. Hermione knew deep in her bones Draco did the right thing when he killed his father. If he hadn't, she knew they would never find any peace. It was Draco's last gift to the world, to Ginny and his children. Yes, he died. But he'd died making sure they were safe.

Somewhere in the house, she heard the distinct pop of someone Apparating, and she allowed herself to breathe since hours before when he left. The sun was now up, and Harry would be expected at the Ministry in an hour or so. Hermione made her way up the stairs, until she found him in their bedroom. "Is everything okay?"

Harry smiled down at his wife, and bent slightly to kiss the top of her head. "Ginny is okay, if that's what you're asking. I'm not sure what else."

She frowned. "What happened? Was there an intruder?"

He began to pull his robes off, unfastening the buttons hastily. He was so tired, but Harry was sure he wouldn't be able to sleep. "Yes, someone was trying to get into the house."

Hermione studied him with wary eyes. Something was going on. "What aren't you telling me?"

Her husband shrugged, dropping the robe to the ground. Next he pulled the jumper he'd pulled on over his pyjama top off. "The 'intruder' was Malfoy."

"What?"

"It was Draco." His shoes came next, and he pulled the trousers from the previous evening off. "Draco Malfoy."

"I don't think I understand."

Harry took her arm gently and led her to the bed. First he lay down, then he pulled her next to him. "He's alive."

"Where's he been?" she asked. She tucked herself beneath his chin and sighed happily. "Harry, love, one thing, aren't you going to work?"

"I went by the Ministry first. Told them I'm not coming."

"Okay. Now tell me what happened."

***


There was an Apparation point in a field beside the Burrow, and Ron quickly made his way to the house. It'd be left to him to break to his mother and father that their estranged son-in-law had returned from the dead. Very undead, it might be useful to add.

Molly Weasley answered the door after the second knock, and smiled at him. "Ron! What brings you by?"

"'Ello, Mum. Is Dad around?" He leaned down to kiss her cheek.

Her face instantly fell. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"Mum—"

"Ronald Weasley, you'll tell me this instant!"

He gently took her by the arm and led her to the couch. Once she was seated, he stood above her. "I will tell you. But first, I need Dad here as well. It's something you both need to know. Let me Floo him."

Ron took a handful of the Floo powder from the jar and tossed it into the fire. Sticking his head inside, he clearly said, "Dad's office at the Ministry."

An instant later, the small office that Arthur Weasley and the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts occupied appeared. "Dad?" he questioned.

Arthur appeared behind a stack of files. "Ron? What is it?"

"Dad, I need you to come home quickly. It's important."

"Ron, what's wrong?" Arthur was already beginning to search for his wand beneath the papers on his desk. "Is it your mother?"

"Mum's fine, Dad. She's here with me. I just need you to come to the Burrow quickly."

"Alright, son."

Ron pulled his head from the flames; pleased to see his mother was still sitting where he left her. "Dad should be here any minute."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Arthur Weasley appeared in the middle of the living room, causing Molly to jump. "Sorry dear," he immediately apologized to his wife. Rounding, he stared at his youngest son. "Ron, what's wrong?"

"Dad, I think you might want to sit down." His father took the seat next to Molly, while Ron opted for the armchair next to the fireplace, across from his parents. "This morning, around three or so, Ginny's nanny came with urgent news. She said someone was trying to break into the Manor."

"What?" Molly gasped. "Already? Is Ginny okay? The children?"

He held up a hand, signaling for her to stop the line of questioning. "Let me finish, Mum. When I arrived, Harry was already there. But there was someone else."

When he stopped, Molly Weasley said, "Well? Who was it? A supporter of You-Know-Who?"

"It was Draco," Ron said finally.

"Draco?" Arthur repeated. "It couldn't have been Draco."

"But it was," Ron insisted. "I saw him."

"How is that possible? You and Harry checked the scene at the Lake House years ago, Ron. Draco is dead."

Their youngest son shook his head. "No, when we couldn't find him, we assumed he was dead. After a month or so, we gave up looking. All of the options we considered never came close to the reality of the situation."

"And that was?" Arthur asked. He stood, looming over his wife and son, and said, "Did he leave her voluntarily? Fake his death? If so, then I need to have a talk with him right now."

He was ready to Apparate away again, when Molly pulled his wand from his hand. "Arthur, let Ron finish." She looked expectedly at her son. "That's not the end, is it?"

He shook his head. "His father prepared an Obliviate charm before their meeting, and when things didn't go his way, he cast it. None of the Auror's bothered to do a Prior Incantato on Lucius' wand, because Avada Kedavra was on Draco's. We would have known about the memory spell then."

"So Draco has been wondering around lost for seven years?" Molly asked. "That poor boy."

"From what he told Harry and me earlier, he's only recently started to remember. Apparently, he didn't even know he was a Malfoy until last week. Said he's been living as Nathan Hall, a Muggle, in New York City for seven years."

"A Muggle?" the woman asked. "Our Draco has been living as a Muggle?"

Ron swallowed his scowl at his mother's use of the word 'our'. Just because the git was married to his sister did not make him family. "Apparently. I plan on contacting someone at the American Ministry in the morning, and getting what information I can on Nathan Hall."

"But he was well?" Molly asked. She'd been the first in the family to take to Draco as a permanent fixture in Ginny's life, and she was rather fond of her only son-in-law. "Not too skinny?"

"Give Gin some time, Mum, and I'm sure she'll allow you to see Draco."

Arthur blinked at his daughter's name. "How is Ginny taking this, Ron?"

The young man looked up into the eyes of his father, a frown on his face. "She fainted, Dad. She was still out when I left earlier."

***


She'd had the most wonderfully strange dream. Someone had been trying to get into the house, and when she went to investigate she saw Draco.

Ginny knew she was losing it now. It was probably stress. They'd just moved, and she had re-emerged into society, and…

Wait, hadn't she gone to sleep with the twins? Weren't they supposed to be in the bed with her? And what time was it, anyway? They always woke her…

"Cera?" she asked. Opening her eyes, Ginny looked around, noting that she was still in her bed. "Seth?" Neither of them answered.

Ginny reached through the bed curtains and found her wand on the night table where she left it. There was also a class of water and a damp rag. Two things she most definitely did not leave there. What was going on?

She pushed aside the curtain, and immediately wished she hadn't.

Because she was hallucinating again. Sitting there, in the antique chair his mother had given them, was Draco. Aside from the clothes, he looked exactly the same. The same silver-blond hair, the same long, thin (and handsome) face, and she suspected the same gray eyes. Only she couldn't tell, because he was sleeping.

Ginny slipped on her bedroom shoes, and stood, preparing to go find her children. He wasn't there, of course. There was no way. She'd seen him before. Months after he disappeared, Ginny would turn and he'd be smiling at her. Or she'd see him across the market, waving at Blaise and herself. When the children were born, she thought she'd seen him in the room with her, her Mum, and the medi-wizard.

It was like he never left her at all. But he had. In her heart, she really didn't believe he was dead, but at the same time she was unsure as to whether she'd ever see him again. Lucius Malfoy had exacted his last revenge before his death. In life, he'd hated the thought of Draco and Ginny together, so in death he managed to keep them apart.

She walked past the not-there Draco and was surprised when he reached out to grab her wrist. Which was different. None of the hallucinations had ever touched her before. Looking down, she saw that his eyes were the same. The eyes she used to feel undressing her across the Great Hall at Hogwarts. The same eyes that filled with tears when he came to her in her dressing room before their wedding. The eyes she loved so much.

"This isn't real," she murmured. It couldn't be real.

"Virginia?" The hallucinations had never talked before, either.

"What's going on?"

Not-there Draco stood then. The other hallucinations moved, too. So it was still possible he wasn't real, right? Right. "Are you okay? You took a pretty hard fall."

"I… I don't understand."

He lifted his hand to the back of her head, searching through her wild red hair for a bump. When his fingers found the knot, she couldn't help but wince. When had that happened? "Who are you?"

His face fell then. "You don't recognize me?"

Ginny stepped away from him and frowned. "Of course I recognize you. And it's obvious that you're really here, and not something I'm dreaming. You look just like him. And I want to know who sent you. Why are you here?"

He took a step back. "I'm Draco Malfoy," he told her. It was a phrase she'd heard him say many times before, one he had practiced on the plane trip over. Still, it didn't feel right. Even to his own ears, Draco didn't sound like he believed his claim. He added, "Your husband."

She shook her head. "No… you can't be. My husband is…"

"Right here," he told her. He thought about reaching out to touch her face, but knew she'd reject him if he tried.

"He's gone," Ginny said weakly. "His father killed him."

"Virginia, that's only what they want you to believe. I'm here." He held up his left hand, the gold ring glittering in the light. "On the inside, Draco is inscribed." His right hand fished in his pocket and he pulled out her ring. "It matches the Virginia on this ring."

Her eyes narrowed as she studied the ring he was holding. "Where did you get that? What did you do to him!"

"I am him, Virginia. I am Draco Malfoy." This time it was sad with more conviction and confidence, and Draco began to believe a little more.

She still didn't believe him. Because if she let herself believe, and then it turned out to not be true… she didn't think she could lose him all over again. She wasn't strong enough, not this time. She couldn't do it again.

"Then tell me something about us, something only Draco would know. Something he would have never told anyone." Ginny waited patiently, as his eyes widened. "Well?" she asked. "Tell me."

This was impossible. He didn't remember their past! There was no way he could tell her… "I asked you to marry me on a gondola in Italy." Wait… where'd that come from?

Her mouth softened from the hard line. "You could have read that in the paper. Someone only you and I, if you are Draco, would know." She crossed her arms across her chest, her fingers tapping against her elbow as she waited.

How had he known about the gondola? "The first time we made love, it was in a small alcove behind the kitchen at Hogwarts." Where were these memories coming from? "It was the first time for both of us."

"Draco might have told his friends about that." She knew he most likely hadn't, of course. With the exception of Blaise and Greg Goyle, none of his fellow Slytherins approved of his relationship with Ginny. "Something else," Ginny demanded.

He smiled then, the third memory coming to him. It was like something out of a movie, except he suddenly realized it was his life. "On the day of our wedding, I came to visit you. I wanted to say my vows in private. You didn't agree at first, but then you said, 'Fine, but when my mother shows up to yell at you, and our marriage goes to hell, it's your fault.' Then you told me I was beautiful."

She'd never told anyone, of course. There were few really sacred moments with Draco, but the moment he was describing was one of them. Ginny looked up at him, her eyes alight with hope. "You sort of frowned, and said 'Men aren't supposed to look beautiful.'"

"They aren't." Draco took a step closer, this time reaching out to touch her cheek. "Do you believe me now?"

Ginny nodded. Amazingly, she wasn't crying, even though she could feel the tears just behind her eyelids. She steeled herself though; there was no reason to ruin this beautifully perfect moment with tears. "I don't understand… how?"

"Shhh." Draco placed his forefinger over her lips, as he studied her. He took in her messy red-hair, the white silk nightgown, and the fuzzy black slippers on her feet. She was thin, but rounded in the right places. From childbearing, he imagined. "You are so beautiful."

"Please don't make me cry?" Ginny asked. "Don't let me ruin this by crying."

"Virginia, love, there are such things as happy tears."

Damn him. He was going to make her cry anyway. "I know that. But…"

"Shhh." His hand moved from her cheek to the back of head, as he pulled her forward. She took a step to meet him, her soft body melting against his hard one. His second hand went to her hip, both of her hands smoothing up his chest. "Would it be okay if I kissed you?"

Ginny nodded her approval, still not quite sure if this was happening. But if it was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.

His lips covered hers gently. Moving against her softly, surely as he rediscovered what once was his. His tongue came out and she sighed wistfully, allowing him entrance. He didn't push too hard, only dipping inside of her mouth for a quick taste. There would be more of that later.

Her hands fisted in his sweater, bringing their bodies in full contact from chest to hip. He continued to kiss her, his lips moving against hers in perfect harmony. It was as if he was made to kiss this woman.

And he was, as far as he was concerned.

When Draco finally pulled back, her lips were red and swollen. She looked thoroughly mussed, but loved. Ginny reached up to touch her lips and then she touched his cheek. "Are you really here? Are you really real?" she asked.

Draco took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. He kissed her fingertips. "I'm here, Virginia. I'm standing right here with you."

Ginny nodded, accepting his answer. She'd want details later; answers to her endless list of questions. And there was the matter of the children: they needed to meet their father. And Blaise… poor Blaise. Except he was in America, right? She'd need to tell her family, of course. They'd need to know.

But for now, she allowed her husband to pull her into his strong arms, hers automatically wrapping around his waist. He even smelled just right, she noticed. As she closed her eyes and finally allowed the tears to flow, she realized it finally happened.

He'd finally come home.
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