Ginny Weasley walked into the large funeral home and took a seat at the very back row. No one noticed her. She spotted him quickly, at the front and to the side of the two caskets, with a clear view of his face and for the next twenty minutes she was absorbed in studying him. He had changed little in physical appearance - even his hair was the same length. But his mask was more firmly in place.
The ceremonies were long and difficult. How do you talk about a Death Eater who nearly broke a record giving to charities? But there were many funerals, and so there was less attention given to diplomacy than there might have been. Draco only blinked a few times.
Ginny followed the entourage to the ceremonial, open-air crematory. She watched Draco lay flowers on both bodies: he placed an equal amount on his father's chest, but he was slower with his mother's, pausing an extra moment with her.
He stepped back, and the magical fires were lit. They burned much quicker than ordinary fires, and as etiquette dictated, most of the mourners left while the flames still burned. But Ginny waited, still at the back, watching Draco as he stood before the pyres, his hands clasped behind him.
When the flames began to die down, he walked away, across the grass. She followed. He stopped a distance from the crematory, and so did she, not behind him but ten feet away to his side, waiting for him to acknowledge her or not.
He did.
Draco turned and walked toward her, close enough to touch her and stopped. For several long minutes they faced each other, silent, eyes locked.
Ginny spoke first. "We've both changed."
He said nothing, letting silence stand for agreement.
"Do you remember...what you said, that one night in those last weeks? You told me to remind you if you didn't remember?"
He spoke, his voice quiet and even. "I remember."
She smiled - not a happy smile, but a tired smile that was grateful for a small mercy. Some moments passed, and she looked up at him again. "What do you feel now?"
Draco did not answer. He studied her face for several more seconds, and then slowly raised his hand toward her face.
Ginny stopped breathing. Very slowly, his fingertips brushed her cheek, hovered there - and then he pressed his whole palm to her cheek.
They stood there, not aware of time. When Draco dropped his hand, it started again. The question had been answered.
"I burned the manor to the ground," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm moving into my mother's old estate. It's considerably smaller." He hesitated. "Would you like to move in?"
Ginny nodded. "I'll go pack my things now."
"You'll have to floo there the first time. The address is Ebonmark Hall."
"All right."
They waited still, though either knew why. Draco said finally, "I'll see you tonight."
Ginny nodded, quickly collected herself, and disapparated.
*~*
Stepping out of the kitchen of the Burrow, she first saw Ron and Hermione sitting on the sofa, her head leaning against the end of the sofa and her legs over his lap as they talked quietly. They had been married for over a year now, but Ron still hadn't moved out. All the Weasleys - other than Percy - had come home to live in the Burrow for the war.
"Where'd you go, Ginny?" Ron asked. Hermione turned her head to see her, her eyes flickering over her black robes.
Ginny had learned about lying in her last years at Hogwarts with Draco. Not only how to do it, but what was necessary and what wasn't. Once Draco left, it had been such a relief to not have to constantly lie anymore, she had taken a new policy of absolute, painful honesty. But now the old rules came back, and she made up her mind in a second: it was no longer necessary to lie.
"I was at Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's funeral."
Hermione sat up. Ron stared at her - not looking shocked, only baffled. Ginny met his gaze evenly. Eventually, Ron seemed to decide it was something she had to do for closure, and appeared to relax.
"Were they burned?"
Ginny nodded. "Of course."
Hermione was still looking at her, and Ron muttered, "That's fitting."
"Is everyone here?"
"No - Dad and Bill are out. Why?"
She made a slight shrug. "I need to talk to everyone soon. Tell anyone who comes in, all right?"
"All right...."
Ginny went up to her room and began packing. She didn't put in many clothes - even if she took her whole wardrobe, Draco would replace it in short order. Instead, she focused on other things - small presents from her family, pictures, though she had no idea where she would put them in Draco's house. And other memories - letters from her school friends, a locket, a card, a lock of black hair.
An ink-stained ribbon.
She finished when dusk was just starting. She glanced out the window - she needed to hurry since she promised Draco she would be there tonight.
Fortunately, her father and Bill had come home. Unlike the days before the war, everyone managed to come home early, regardless of work.
In short order, everyone was collected together in the living room. Ginny stood before the stairs, her small trunk beside her. She spent several moments looking over her family, memorizing everything. Dad and Bill sitting at the table - Charlie and the twins standing together against the wall - Ron and Hermione standing with hands clasped - Mum sitting in her chair. For the first time in a while, she was struck painfully by Percy's absence. What would his reaction have been to what she was about to say? She could only imagine now.
"Are you going somewhere, Ginny?"
Her mother's voice and anxious face pulled her back. Decisively, Ginny nodded in answer. The anxiety turned to dismay, and she spent a bitter moment appreciating it before she stunned it all to hell. "I'm moving in with Draco Malfoy."
As predicted, no one spoke. She waited patiently.
"What?" Ron was first, naturally. "What did you say?" He took a half step forward.
He - and everyone else - didn't need repetition. "Draco and I began dating," she began calmly, but part of her laughed at the word. Dating? They had never been on a date. "- in my fifth year at school. We continued until he left. I met him again today at his parents' cremation." They were still gaping at her. It hadn't even begun to sink in. All so incredulous, with the exception of her mother, who looked like she might cry. Ginny hurriedly looked away from her.
She looked around at them again and found she really didn't want to have the discussion that was about to follow - where every one individually argued her sanity, demanded proof of it, and pleaded with her not go. It would take far too long, and Draco was waiting.
Ginny raised her hand, checking all of them. "I have to floo there. I'd like to do it from here, but if I'm going to be delayed, I'll use the fires in Diagon Alley."
"Ginny." Hermione broke apart from Ron, moving in front of him. She was pale, but clearly calmer than anyone else. "I'd like to talk to you outside, just for a moment. Please."
Ginny studied her for a quick moment, then nodded. Levitating her trunk after her, she followed Hermione out the front door. As soon as they crossed the threshold, voices started, but Ginny shut the door firmly behind her.
Light came from the kitchen, in addition to the sky, illuminating both of their faces. Hermione stepped very close, searching Ginny's face.
"You're not stupid," Hermione said quietly.
Ginny broke into a laugh. "No, I'm not stupid."
"And you're not naïve."
The smile faded. "I was naïve once. I learned very well from that experience."
Hermione's eyes searched her still. "Yes, you did."
A moment passed, and Ginny sighed quietly. "You'll see me again, Hermione."
She raised her eyebrows, questioning. "We will?" The emphasis was on the 'we.'
"Yes. I promise."
Another minute passed. "Can I owl you?"
"Yes. But address it to Ginny Malfoy."
Hermione's eyes widened, her look intensifying. "Are you sure?"
Ginny smiled. "Yes. Draco was always very sure on marrying. He wants to change my name."
Hermione almost frowned. Ginny remembered it was the opposite for her - Hermione had to take on Weasley.
"And address it to Ebonmark Hall."
"Why not the manor?"
"Draco burned it."
"Oh."
"Something he's wanted to do for a long time."
"Oh. I see."
Ginny regarded her. "I really have to go."
"All right. I'll - talk to them after you go."
"Thank you."
They went back in; Ginny kissed each of them, silently ignoring everything said, while Hermione helped hold Ron back, and quickly she stepped into the fireplace.
Draco was waiting when she stepped out. He stood as she straightened and glanced around the airy parlor. It was simple, soft, and elegant - paintings of landscapes in dark frames.
Draco caught her attention again, and an elf appeared, bowing once to take her trunk.
"I only kept three," he said, following her gaze. "What did you bring?"
"Not much." She let the house-elf take it.
He stepped closer. She looked up into his face. It wasn't as open to her as it had been at Hogwarts, but neither was it as cold as it had been in public earlier today. And she knew how to open it up again.
Draco raised a hand and brushed it against her face again, this time pushing it back into her hair as well. Ginny felt lightheaded.
Everything was very slow that night. Every movement was felt. Their breathing was audible; they felt aware of everything. It was like nothing they had ever experienced before or would experience again.
Afterward, they lay against each other, both at peace with the world at last.
Author notes: Blaise Zabini is a boy because of Dahlia, Arabella, and Jedi Boadicea.
To Liz Barr, the idea of cremating witches and wizards.
To Nita (She’s a Star), for the idea of killing off both of Draco’s parents.
To Poggy’s fanart, Arabella, and Jedi Boadicea for the idea of Draco being close to his mother.
Also – would anyone fancy an epilogue? I had a vague idea to write one more chapter where Ginny, about six months after this point, takes her parents out to dinner. Would anyone want to read it?
The ceremonies were long and difficult. How do you talk about a Death Eater who nearly broke a record giving to charities? But there were many funerals, and so there was less attention given to diplomacy than there might have been. Draco only blinked a few times.
Ginny followed the entourage to the ceremonial, open-air crematory. She watched Draco lay flowers on both bodies: he placed an equal amount on his father's chest, but he was slower with his mother's, pausing an extra moment with her.
He stepped back, and the magical fires were lit. They burned much quicker than ordinary fires, and as etiquette dictated, most of the mourners left while the flames still burned. But Ginny waited, still at the back, watching Draco as he stood before the pyres, his hands clasped behind him.
When the flames began to die down, he walked away, across the grass. She followed. He stopped a distance from the crematory, and so did she, not behind him but ten feet away to his side, waiting for him to acknowledge her or not.
He did.
Draco turned and walked toward her, close enough to touch her and stopped. For several long minutes they faced each other, silent, eyes locked.
Ginny spoke first. "We've both changed."
He said nothing, letting silence stand for agreement.
"Do you remember...what you said, that one night in those last weeks? You told me to remind you if you didn't remember?"
He spoke, his voice quiet and even. "I remember."
She smiled - not a happy smile, but a tired smile that was grateful for a small mercy. Some moments passed, and she looked up at him again. "What do you feel now?"
Draco did not answer. He studied her face for several more seconds, and then slowly raised his hand toward her face.
Ginny stopped breathing. Very slowly, his fingertips brushed her cheek, hovered there - and then he pressed his whole palm to her cheek.
They stood there, not aware of time. When Draco dropped his hand, it started again. The question had been answered.
"I burned the manor to the ground," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm moving into my mother's old estate. It's considerably smaller." He hesitated. "Would you like to move in?"
Ginny nodded. "I'll go pack my things now."
"You'll have to floo there the first time. The address is Ebonmark Hall."
"All right."
They waited still, though either knew why. Draco said finally, "I'll see you tonight."
Ginny nodded, quickly collected herself, and disapparated.
*~*
Stepping out of the kitchen of the Burrow, she first saw Ron and Hermione sitting on the sofa, her head leaning against the end of the sofa and her legs over his lap as they talked quietly. They had been married for over a year now, but Ron still hadn't moved out. All the Weasleys - other than Percy - had come home to live in the Burrow for the war.
"Where'd you go, Ginny?" Ron asked. Hermione turned her head to see her, her eyes flickering over her black robes.
Ginny had learned about lying in her last years at Hogwarts with Draco. Not only how to do it, but what was necessary and what wasn't. Once Draco left, it had been such a relief to not have to constantly lie anymore, she had taken a new policy of absolute, painful honesty. But now the old rules came back, and she made up her mind in a second: it was no longer necessary to lie.
"I was at Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's funeral."
Hermione sat up. Ron stared at her - not looking shocked, only baffled. Ginny met his gaze evenly. Eventually, Ron seemed to decide it was something she had to do for closure, and appeared to relax.
"Were they burned?"
Ginny nodded. "Of course."
Hermione was still looking at her, and Ron muttered, "That's fitting."
"Is everyone here?"
"No - Dad and Bill are out. Why?"
She made a slight shrug. "I need to talk to everyone soon. Tell anyone who comes in, all right?"
"All right...."
Ginny went up to her room and began packing. She didn't put in many clothes - even if she took her whole wardrobe, Draco would replace it in short order. Instead, she focused on other things - small presents from her family, pictures, though she had no idea where she would put them in Draco's house. And other memories - letters from her school friends, a locket, a card, a lock of black hair.
An ink-stained ribbon.
She finished when dusk was just starting. She glanced out the window - she needed to hurry since she promised Draco she would be there tonight.
Fortunately, her father and Bill had come home. Unlike the days before the war, everyone managed to come home early, regardless of work.
In short order, everyone was collected together in the living room. Ginny stood before the stairs, her small trunk beside her. She spent several moments looking over her family, memorizing everything. Dad and Bill sitting at the table - Charlie and the twins standing together against the wall - Ron and Hermione standing with hands clasped - Mum sitting in her chair. For the first time in a while, she was struck painfully by Percy's absence. What would his reaction have been to what she was about to say? She could only imagine now.
"Are you going somewhere, Ginny?"
Her mother's voice and anxious face pulled her back. Decisively, Ginny nodded in answer. The anxiety turned to dismay, and she spent a bitter moment appreciating it before she stunned it all to hell. "I'm moving in with Draco Malfoy."
As predicted, no one spoke. She waited patiently.
"What?" Ron was first, naturally. "What did you say?" He took a half step forward.
He - and everyone else - didn't need repetition. "Draco and I began dating," she began calmly, but part of her laughed at the word. Dating? They had never been on a date. "- in my fifth year at school. We continued until he left. I met him again today at his parents' cremation." They were still gaping at her. It hadn't even begun to sink in. All so incredulous, with the exception of her mother, who looked like she might cry. Ginny hurriedly looked away from her.
She looked around at them again and found she really didn't want to have the discussion that was about to follow - where every one individually argued her sanity, demanded proof of it, and pleaded with her not go. It would take far too long, and Draco was waiting.
Ginny raised her hand, checking all of them. "I have to floo there. I'd like to do it from here, but if I'm going to be delayed, I'll use the fires in Diagon Alley."
"Ginny." Hermione broke apart from Ron, moving in front of him. She was pale, but clearly calmer than anyone else. "I'd like to talk to you outside, just for a moment. Please."
Ginny studied her for a quick moment, then nodded. Levitating her trunk after her, she followed Hermione out the front door. As soon as they crossed the threshold, voices started, but Ginny shut the door firmly behind her.
Light came from the kitchen, in addition to the sky, illuminating both of their faces. Hermione stepped very close, searching Ginny's face.
"You're not stupid," Hermione said quietly.
Ginny broke into a laugh. "No, I'm not stupid."
"And you're not naïve."
The smile faded. "I was naïve once. I learned very well from that experience."
Hermione's eyes searched her still. "Yes, you did."
A moment passed, and Ginny sighed quietly. "You'll see me again, Hermione."
She raised her eyebrows, questioning. "We will?" The emphasis was on the 'we.'
"Yes. I promise."
Another minute passed. "Can I owl you?"
"Yes. But address it to Ginny Malfoy."
Hermione's eyes widened, her look intensifying. "Are you sure?"
Ginny smiled. "Yes. Draco was always very sure on marrying. He wants to change my name."
Hermione almost frowned. Ginny remembered it was the opposite for her - Hermione had to take on Weasley.
"And address it to Ebonmark Hall."
"Why not the manor?"
"Draco burned it."
"Oh."
"Something he's wanted to do for a long time."
"Oh. I see."
Ginny regarded her. "I really have to go."
"All right. I'll - talk to them after you go."
"Thank you."
They went back in; Ginny kissed each of them, silently ignoring everything said, while Hermione helped hold Ron back, and quickly she stepped into the fireplace.
Draco was waiting when she stepped out. He stood as she straightened and glanced around the airy parlor. It was simple, soft, and elegant - paintings of landscapes in dark frames.
Draco caught her attention again, and an elf appeared, bowing once to take her trunk.
"I only kept three," he said, following her gaze. "What did you bring?"
"Not much." She let the house-elf take it.
He stepped closer. She looked up into his face. It wasn't as open to her as it had been at Hogwarts, but neither was it as cold as it had been in public earlier today. And she knew how to open it up again.
Draco raised a hand and brushed it against her face again, this time pushing it back into her hair as well. Ginny felt lightheaded.
Everything was very slow that night. Every movement was felt. Their breathing was audible; they felt aware of everything. It was like nothing they had ever experienced before or would experience again.
Afterward, they lay against each other, both at peace with the world at last.
Author notes: Blaise Zabini is a boy because of Dahlia, Arabella, and Jedi Boadicea.
To Liz Barr, the idea of cremating witches and wizards.
To Nita (She’s a Star), for the idea of killing off both of Draco’s parents.
To Poggy’s fanart, Arabella, and Jedi Boadicea for the idea of Draco being close to his mother.
Also – would anyone fancy an epilogue? I had a vague idea to write one more chapter where Ginny, about six months after this point, takes her parents out to dinner. Would anyone want to read it?
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