Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns all things Harry Potter.
A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers! I have a rough draft written, but it needs a lot of work. Also, my husband helps me edit and I don't like to impose on him too often. Because of this, I expect to update every three or four days. Hopefully that is soon enough!
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Coming Home
Chapter 5: Draco
Ginny woke to a newspaper being thrown unceremoniously onto her chest. She looked up to see a cheery Remus grinning back down at her. She groaned. "Do you have to be so zippy so early in the morning?"
"Early? It is already half past nine! And I was sure you would want to pore over your press clippings," he added slyly. She groaned again.
"How bad is it?"
"Well, it could be worse, but see for yourself," he said, gesturing at the paper, which had by now fallen to the floor.
Ginny picked it up nervously. She soon saw that she had good reason for nervousness. The banner headline was in three-inch capitals: "POTTER WIDOW RETURNS!" There was also a photograph that took up much of the page: Ginny, shrouded in her overlarge cloak, holding an owl in a cage. Somehow she had forgotten the owl in the shuffle. Ginny hoped that Fred and George had fed the poor bird when they got home last night.
Ginny looked more carefully at the picture. Luckily, most of her face was in shadows and only the tip of her nose could be seen clearly. But a strand of red hair had come loose and was plainly visible. Her scrutiny of the photograph complete, she reluctantly looked at the accompanying article.
POTTER WIDOW RETURNS!
By Barnabas Bartleby, Staff Reporter
Witnesses in Diagon Alley yesterday reported seeing Harry Potter's widow, Ginevra Weasley Potter, who left the wizarding world over ten years ago, following the death of her husband. Although she attempted to disguise herself under a voluminous cloak, her telltale red hair gave her away. "I was at Hogwarts with her and several of her brothers," claimed solicitor Ernie Macmillan, "and I would know the Weasley hair anywhere. That definitely had to be her!" Others in the crowd agreed, though they could not boast such a close connection to Mrs. Potter. The woman's identity seemed to be confirmed when, once she realized she had been identified, she took refuge in Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, 93 Diagon Alley, which is owned by Mrs. Potter's brothers, Fred and George Weasley.
Witnesses place the woman many agree was Mrs. Potter in Ollivander's Wand Shop and Eyelops Owl Emporium. Proprietors Andrew Ollivander and Ernestine Eyelops would not comment on the woman's identity. Miss Eyelops, who is blind, claimed to be ignorant of her customer's identity. When questioned, Mr. Ollivander merely looked intently at the reporter, then returned to polishing a wand. Some have speculated that Mrs. Potter must have visited Gringotts before she began her shopping, but spokesgoblin Ferrum refused to comment. "I tell you again and again that we don't comment on our customers' business, but you can rest assured that if we ever change our policy, we will start by talking about you."
The wizarding world recently observed the ten-year anniversary of the death of Harry Potter, who is famous for twice defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Rumours are rampant about why Mrs. Potter has returned to the wizarding world now. For more information on Mr. and Mrs. Potter, please see page 7.
Ginny decided that she would rather not look at page 7. Remus noticed and said, "It is all just a rehash of the old news, not worth bothering with, really."
"Do you really think it isn't that bad?"
"Well, Bartleby was careful to never say it really was you in Diagon Alley, just that witnesses said it was you. And the picture is pretty much worthless. No one could recognize you from that. I think that you are safe for now, as long as you keep your hair covered. Though I would wear a different cloak next time, if I were you. Care for some breakfast?"
As she sipped her coffee, Ginny thought again about Draco Malfoy, and how she had been having coffee with him on a regular basis without suspecting who he was. At school he had been horrible; a bully who never missed an opportunity to torment her or her friends. He had looked down on her family as poverty-stricken blood traitors. But he had shown no signs of his old personality over coffee. Arrogance, yes, he had plenty of that, but he seemed mellower. And Fred and George actually seemed to like him, even knowing who he was. But it was hard for her to let go of old hatreds. She might be able to forgive him for what he had done to her, but it was much harder to forgive him for what he had done to Harry.
"Remus?" she asked. When he looked up from the Quidditch news, she continued. "What do you know about Draco Malfoy?"
"Draco Malfoy? Why would you want to know about him?"
"Well, he was in Fred and George's shop yesterday when I went there. And... and it turns out we have been having coffee together for a while, each thinking the other was a Muggle. He seems different, but I have trouble believing it."
"From what I have heard, he is different, at least somewhat. There were all sorts of questions about his role during the war, and he has been treated with suspicion by practically everyone. But his reputation has been squeaky clean since then. He has made every appearance of ridding himself of all of the old Dark Arts paraphernalia his father collected. He has given away a lot of money--he even funded a new pediatric wing for St. Mungo's. No one is really sure if it is all a front for something else, or is a genuine change of heart. He seems to keep to himself a lot. One thing I do know for sure is that he is one heck of a businessman. I read recently that he has doubled the revenues of his investment firm over the last five years. He has an uncanny instinct for which businesses will be profitable, like Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Your brothers have made him tons of money, you know." Remus smiled at her. "Does that answer your question?"
"Perhaps. I guess I'll have to find out for myself. I really had been enjoying our conversations. It's just hard to accept."
"I know you probably keep hearing this, but most people have changed since you left. You probably should give him a chance. But I do not doubt that he is still capable of using charm to get whatever he wants, so do be careful."
"I will," Ginny smiled over the rim of her coffee cup.
***
Ginny was quite nervous the next morning as she walked into the coffee house. She wasn't exactly sure how to deal with Draco Malfoy face to face. But he gave her a bright smile as she sat down next to him.
"Ginny! I'm glad you came. When you weren't here yesterday, I was worried that I had scared you off."
"Well, I admit that I'm not quite sure how to react you. But that isn't why I wasn't here yesterday. After seeing my family, I didn't know how to get home without broadcasting my presence even more than I already had, and I really needed a shoulder to cry on, so I went to stay with Remus."
"Remus? Remus Lupin? The werewolf?" He sounded surprised.
"Of course! It's not as if there was a full moon last night, after all. And Remus is an old friend of mine. He's the one who helped me leave the wizarding world, and he convinced me to come back. He forced me to see Fred and George, too. He has really been wonderful. And completely nonjudgmental, unlike some others I could name," she said this last with a scowl.
"Huh? Did I judge? Oh, that comment about Lupin--sorry about that."
"Oh, I didn't mean you, actually, though thank you for apologizing about Remus. I meant my prat of a brother, Ron."
"What did the Weasel do now?" She glared at him. "Sorry. Old habits die hard, and the two of us still don't get along, you know."
"Actually, I don't know. I've realized that I know next to nothing. After all, here you are, Draco Malfoy of all people, being mostly nice. You even apologize for saying mean things. And my own brother refuses to see me!"
"He what?!"
"When I arrived at the Burrow last night, my mum insisted on Flooing all my brothers and they all came, except for Ron. Hermione said that he called me selfish for leaving and is angry because he got stuck with the press and the hero business when I left."
"You weren't selfish for leaving. You did what you had to do, and if he wanted to escape the press, he should have left as well. Don't let it bother you, Ginny."
"That's easy for you to say. Your brother doesn't hate you."
"No, my brother doesn't hate me, because I don't have a brother. But if I did, he probably would. Most of the world does, after all." He sounded bitter.
Ginny felt a sudden surge of sympathy for him. "I'm sorry, I don't want to wallow in self-pity. And I have trouble believing that everyone hates you. You always had such a following at school. Not to mention that you seem quite pleasant now."
"Well, a lot has changed," Draco said with a sigh.
"I guess so," she said with a half-hearted smile. "I suppose war and a whole lot of time do have that effect, don't they?"
"Yes, yes they do." There was a long, awkward pause in the conversation while both of them finished off the last of their coffee without looking at each other.
"I..." Draco began hesitantly. "I... Er... Would... Er... Would you be willing to hear about it?"
Ginny was a little surprised at his nervousness. "Hear about what?"
"About the war... And a whole lot of time?"
"If you want to tell me," she said, smiling reassuringly, "then yes, I'd like to hear."
Draco looked relieved. "I need to go now, but will you join me for dinner tonight? I'll tell you then."
She nodded and he scribbled an address on a napkin. "Here, this is my flat. You can walk from here. Will seven work?" She nodded again and he was gone. She looked down at the address and felt her stomach clench in nervousness. What was she getting herself into?
***
Ginny took a deep breath as she stepped off of the lift and faced the door of Draco's flat. She had never been in a building like this before. It reeked of old money and understated elegance. She had no doubt that the flat had been in the Malfoy family for centuries. It just underscored the differences between them. Their families hated each other, or at least they had. What was she doing, befriending a Malfoy? She knocked.
After a few moments, Draco answered the door with a wooden spoon in his hand. The unexpected sight somehow made her feel better.
"Ginny, come in! I'll be just a minute, but please make yourself at home."
Draco led her into a large and well-proportioned parlor. The furnishings were mostly antiques, probably worth more than Ginny's entire flat. But there were a few modern pieces placed here and there that helped keep the effect from being stifling. The highlight of the room, however, was the three large windows that overlooked St. James Park. She wandered over to them and watched the ducks on the pond until Draco returned.
"It's a nice view, isn't it?" he asked as he reentered the room. "I'm not sure if I would keep the flat if it weren't for the view. That and the fact that four centuries of my ancestors would probably all roll over in their graves if I sold it."
"It's lovely," she said, turning to him with a smile. Then, thinking of the spoon he had held, she added, "I never would have thought you would cook."
"Well, this is a Muggle building, and it wouldn't do to have a Muggle spot a house-elf, would it? So I learned to cook a few meals when I moved here. I eat out most of the time, but it is a rather relaxing pastime on the weekends. Would you like some wine? I bought it just for you."
Ginny looked at the bottle he was holding out for her inspection. In their coffee house conversations, they had discovered a mutual love of wine. Ginny, having developed her tastes in the United States, drank a lot of relatively inexpensive Californian wines. Meanwhile, Draco knew next to nothing about American wines, but nearly everything about French wine.
One night when she was still living in Chicago, Ginny had tasted a Châteauneuf-du-Pape at a wine bar and had been instantly won over. When she had a little extra money to spend on wine, she would buy a bottle and savor it. Draco had apparently remembered her story, and had opened a particularly nice bottle.
"You remembered," she smiled up at him.
"Of course. It's not often that I find someone who gets so excited about wine. And I had no idea what you were talking about with the American wines. I actually tried to buy one today, but I spent twenty minutes just staring at the bottles in the store this afternoon, and couldn't figure out what was what. But Châteauneuf-du-Pape I could comprehend."
"Well, I do appreciate it. And if you want to buy a Californian wine, you could always just pick one with a label you like the looks of." He looked absolutely horrified by this. "What?" she asked with false innocence. "It's worked for me loads of times!"
As they laughed, they grew more and more comfortable with each other. They talked a little more about wine--Draco offered to let Ginny try some of his best Burgundies and Bordeaux, and she threatened him with a single-vineyard Ravenswood Zinfandel. The conversation then moved on to other things as well. Draco seemed to be interested in almost every topic Ginny brought up, and she couldn't believe how easy it was to talk to him.
After a while, Draco had to go see to dinner, and Ginny followed him into the kitchen without even worrying that it was probably rude. He didn't seem to notice, though; he just kept talking.
By the time they finished an excellent dinner of rosemary-encrusted lamb chops, potatoes fried with nutmeg, and green beans tossed with toasted almonds, Ginny felt as if they had known each other for years. And then she realized that she had known him for years. Or at least she thought she had. And that made her remember why she was there.
Draco must have picked up on her change of mood. He disappeared back into the kitchen to retrieve the creme brulée. They ate it quietly, each immersed in their own thoughts. When they finished, Draco led Ginny into a cozy sitting room, lit the fire and several candles, and opened a bottle of Armagnac.
"So..." Ginny said.
"So... I guess it's time for me to spill my guts," he said with a half smile.
"You don't need to tell me anything, Draco. After tonight I can tell that you have changed. I don't know what caused it, but I'm not sure I need to."
"I don't know why it is, but I feel like I owe you an explanation. It doesn't make any sense," he said wryly, "after all, you were married to Harry Bloody Potter. I haven't told the story to anyone besides my mother. But for some reason, I trust you. And if there is any chance that you might still want to know me after this, you deserve to know."
Ginny wasn't sure how to respond. She just settled deeper into the very comfortable sofa, and waited for him to continue.
"My father was a Death Eater. I'm sure you know this. It became common knowledge at the end of my fifth year, when he was sent to Azkaban. At least it was clear to those who weren't trying to delude themselves. Though I suppose you of all people knew before that, considering what he did to you in your first year."
Ginny, all of a sudden, became very fascinated with her fingernails.
"Most of my time at Hogwarts, I wanted to follow in his footsteps. I looked up to my father and thought he could do no wrong. He was a Malfoy, and he had taught me what that meant. To be a Malfoy was to be the pinnacle of the wizarding world, to be the strongest, richest, most powerful wizards there are, and to do everything in one's power to maintain that. He was never easy on me - he tested me, to make sure I was up to snuff. All I ever wanted was to please him, and to live up to my name. Once the Dark Lord rose again at the end of my fourth year, my father made it clear that to please him, I would need to please the Dark Lord. So all I wanted was to become a Death Eater."
Ginny was saddened by his admission. When they were in school, she had been convinced that he was a Death Eater. But after tonight, she hoped there had been more to him than that, even then. She decided to withhold judgement for the time being.
"It would have been stupid to give the Mark to those of us who were still at Hogwarts, under Dumbledore's watchful eye," he continued, "but we were still expected to help the Cause. I informed my father of whatever information I could learn at school, and sometimes he gave me assignments that would help the Dark Lord. But then, over the Easter holidays of my seventh year, he took me to my first meeting with the Dark Lord. And that changed everything."
Ginny looked up then, and caught his eye.
"At the meeting, we were told that there would be an attack on Hogwarts that would end in Potter's death, and victory for the Cause. We were all given assignments for the final battle. I was given the most important assignment of all the students - I was to incapacitate you, your brother, and Granger, so you couldn't help Potter. And I was willing to do it. I hated Potter, and would do whatever it took to get rid of him."
Ginny began to withdraw. She slipped her shoes off, and pulled her legs up onto the sofa, hugging them to her desperately. He was the old Draco, after all. Draco reached a hand out, and nearly touched her shoulder, but contained himself.
"But then... But then my father... He bowed down to the Dark Lord. I could hardly believe it. As long as I remembered, he had taught me that Malfoys bowed to no one; that we were the epitome of wizard-kind. And he actually kissed the hem of that... thing's... cloak. And it made me wonder... It made me wonder how centuries of Malfoy superiority had led to my father bowing to some jumped up half-blood.
"When I got back to Hogwarts, I was in turmoil. Did I respect my father enough to follow him into servitude? Or was I Malfoy enough to stand up for what the family name meant? And, most importantly, what would happen to me in either case? I was, and still am, a Slytherin through and through, and my own well being comes above everything else. I'm not sure how I can expect you, a Gryffindor, to understand, but this is what it was like for me. It all boiled down to the question of what was in my own best interest. And, I am sorry to say, I couldn't decide."
Ginny looked at him again, trying to comprehend his story, but he was unfathomable.
"When it came down to it, I couldn't manage to do anything." He smiled wryly at her questioning gaze. "What do you think, Ginny? Did I accomplish my assignment? Were you incapacitated?" She looked down at her hands again. "No, I thought not. Maybe you would have been, but I hid in a closet instead."
Ginny's head snapped up at this admission. "You probably think I'm a coward - you are a Gryffindor, after all," he said, "but I couldn't really stomach taking either side. If I sided with the Dark Lord, it meant subjecting myself to his power, which I was unwilling to do unless it was absolutely necessary. And if I sided with you, I was practically admitting that Potter had been right all along, which I was equally unwilling to do. So I hid and waited to see which side came out ahead.
"You'll probably hate me for this, but if Voldemort had won, I would have thrown my lot in with him, even if it meant subservience. I would have found some excuse for not following through with my assignment, and would have been tortured to within an inch of my life for my failure. In the end, though, the Dark Lord would have remembered my bank account and spared me. But Potter won, which was much more awkward, really. Dumbledore and the Order never really believed that I didn't help the Dark Lord at the end, and all those that actually did help believed that I was a traitor to the Cause.
"And that brings us to the last ten years. I did have a following at Hogwarts, as you put it before, but I never had any friends. They respected money and power, and I had both. But they were never my friends. Those of them that managed to survive think I betrayed them. Theo Nott is the only one who doesn't, and he had turned against the Dark Lord well before I did. On the other hand, anyone who supported Potter, Dumbledore, and the Order were extremely slow to accept me. In fact, most of them still don't. They don't believe that I turned of my own accord. They think it was entirely a matter of siding with the home team. And to be honest, they're right. I have tried to do things that would brand me as ‘good,' like giving lots of money to charity, but it hasn't really helped, and I can't say I blame anyone for that. They have, after all, been only gestures. No one is willing to accuse me directly of anything. After all, there isn't enough evidence, and they're scared I would sue for libel if they tried. But the prejudice is there. No one refuses to take my money, that's for sure, but there is a level of insolence and disrespect wherever I go in the wizarding world.
"There are a few exceptions, people who have learned to respect me for what I am and the business I do, who are willing to look beyond my past. Your brothers are among them, which is part of why I continue to invest in their firm. Even if they weren't one of my biggest sources of revenue, I would continue to pour money into their business because of them. But most people try to take me for everything I'm worth, so I return the favor. I have a reputation as a very shrewd, very ruthless businessman, and for good reason. Don't tell anyone this, but there are some people I could never be ruthless with, like Fred and George. Every now and then I think I should be, but then I will meet with them and have a ball in the process, and I'll forget all about it." He stopped talking, and spent several minutes looking at his perfectly manicured hands.
After a few minutes, Ginny broke the silence. "Why did you want to tell me about this, Draco?" she asked.
"Because... Because you are a witch and are willing to give me a chance. I have done what I set out to do after the war. I am one of the richest and most powerful men in the wizarding world, as befits a Malfoy, and I have never subjected myself to anyone. But it is a lonely life. For years, my only social life has been with Muggles. To be honest, it really hasn't been too bad. I have some friends, real friends. I've even dated some Muggles. Can you believe that? There was one woman that I seriously considered marrying, but my training in pure-blood morality kicked in and I couldn't bring myself to actually do it. I'm ashamed to say I cheated on her just so she would break it off and I didn't have to. And at first I thought you could be another Muggle friend. But then you turned out to be a witch, and you came back, even though you knew who I was. I figured that you deserve to know the worst of it if you are going to continue."
He trailed off and refused to meet her eyes. She stared at him for several minutes, trying to process all that he had said.
"It isn't easy for me to trust you, Draco. You made my life, and the lives of people I love, hell for many years in school. I believe that when it came down to it, you didn't side with Voldemort, but you also didn't do anything to stop him. But... but I have enjoyed our conversations, and I am honored that you would tell me about your past. I would like to know you - even if I don't entirely trust you yet. Is that okay with you?"
He smiled at her and said, "That will do for now. Thank you for not dismissing me out of hand."
"You could have dismissed me just as easily."
"No," he said, "I've learned to never dismiss a potential friend."
A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers! I have a rough draft written, but it needs a lot of work. Also, my husband helps me edit and I don't like to impose on him too often. Because of this, I expect to update every three or four days. Hopefully that is soon enough!
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Coming Home
Chapter 5: Draco
Ginny woke to a newspaper being thrown unceremoniously onto her chest. She looked up to see a cheery Remus grinning back down at her. She groaned. "Do you have to be so zippy so early in the morning?"
"Early? It is already half past nine! And I was sure you would want to pore over your press clippings," he added slyly. She groaned again.
"How bad is it?"
"Well, it could be worse, but see for yourself," he said, gesturing at the paper, which had by now fallen to the floor.
Ginny picked it up nervously. She soon saw that she had good reason for nervousness. The banner headline was in three-inch capitals: "POTTER WIDOW RETURNS!" There was also a photograph that took up much of the page: Ginny, shrouded in her overlarge cloak, holding an owl in a cage. Somehow she had forgotten the owl in the shuffle. Ginny hoped that Fred and George had fed the poor bird when they got home last night.
Ginny looked more carefully at the picture. Luckily, most of her face was in shadows and only the tip of her nose could be seen clearly. But a strand of red hair had come loose and was plainly visible. Her scrutiny of the photograph complete, she reluctantly looked at the accompanying article.
POTTER WIDOW RETURNS!
By Barnabas Bartleby, Staff Reporter
Witnesses in Diagon Alley yesterday reported seeing Harry Potter's widow, Ginevra Weasley Potter, who left the wizarding world over ten years ago, following the death of her husband. Although she attempted to disguise herself under a voluminous cloak, her telltale red hair gave her away. "I was at Hogwarts with her and several of her brothers," claimed solicitor Ernie Macmillan, "and I would know the Weasley hair anywhere. That definitely had to be her!" Others in the crowd agreed, though they could not boast such a close connection to Mrs. Potter. The woman's identity seemed to be confirmed when, once she realized she had been identified, she took refuge in Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, 93 Diagon Alley, which is owned by Mrs. Potter's brothers, Fred and George Weasley.
Witnesses place the woman many agree was Mrs. Potter in Ollivander's Wand Shop and Eyelops Owl Emporium. Proprietors Andrew Ollivander and Ernestine Eyelops would not comment on the woman's identity. Miss Eyelops, who is blind, claimed to be ignorant of her customer's identity. When questioned, Mr. Ollivander merely looked intently at the reporter, then returned to polishing a wand. Some have speculated that Mrs. Potter must have visited Gringotts before she began her shopping, but spokesgoblin Ferrum refused to comment. "I tell you again and again that we don't comment on our customers' business, but you can rest assured that if we ever change our policy, we will start by talking about you."
The wizarding world recently observed the ten-year anniversary of the death of Harry Potter, who is famous for twice defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Rumours are rampant about why Mrs. Potter has returned to the wizarding world now. For more information on Mr. and Mrs. Potter, please see page 7.
Ginny decided that she would rather not look at page 7. Remus noticed and said, "It is all just a rehash of the old news, not worth bothering with, really."
"Do you really think it isn't that bad?"
"Well, Bartleby was careful to never say it really was you in Diagon Alley, just that witnesses said it was you. And the picture is pretty much worthless. No one could recognize you from that. I think that you are safe for now, as long as you keep your hair covered. Though I would wear a different cloak next time, if I were you. Care for some breakfast?"
As she sipped her coffee, Ginny thought again about Draco Malfoy, and how she had been having coffee with him on a regular basis without suspecting who he was. At school he had been horrible; a bully who never missed an opportunity to torment her or her friends. He had looked down on her family as poverty-stricken blood traitors. But he had shown no signs of his old personality over coffee. Arrogance, yes, he had plenty of that, but he seemed mellower. And Fred and George actually seemed to like him, even knowing who he was. But it was hard for her to let go of old hatreds. She might be able to forgive him for what he had done to her, but it was much harder to forgive him for what he had done to Harry.
"Remus?" she asked. When he looked up from the Quidditch news, she continued. "What do you know about Draco Malfoy?"
"Draco Malfoy? Why would you want to know about him?"
"Well, he was in Fred and George's shop yesterday when I went there. And... and it turns out we have been having coffee together for a while, each thinking the other was a Muggle. He seems different, but I have trouble believing it."
"From what I have heard, he is different, at least somewhat. There were all sorts of questions about his role during the war, and he has been treated with suspicion by practically everyone. But his reputation has been squeaky clean since then. He has made every appearance of ridding himself of all of the old Dark Arts paraphernalia his father collected. He has given away a lot of money--he even funded a new pediatric wing for St. Mungo's. No one is really sure if it is all a front for something else, or is a genuine change of heart. He seems to keep to himself a lot. One thing I do know for sure is that he is one heck of a businessman. I read recently that he has doubled the revenues of his investment firm over the last five years. He has an uncanny instinct for which businesses will be profitable, like Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Your brothers have made him tons of money, you know." Remus smiled at her. "Does that answer your question?"
"Perhaps. I guess I'll have to find out for myself. I really had been enjoying our conversations. It's just hard to accept."
"I know you probably keep hearing this, but most people have changed since you left. You probably should give him a chance. But I do not doubt that he is still capable of using charm to get whatever he wants, so do be careful."
"I will," Ginny smiled over the rim of her coffee cup.
***
Ginny was quite nervous the next morning as she walked into the coffee house. She wasn't exactly sure how to deal with Draco Malfoy face to face. But he gave her a bright smile as she sat down next to him.
"Ginny! I'm glad you came. When you weren't here yesterday, I was worried that I had scared you off."
"Well, I admit that I'm not quite sure how to react you. But that isn't why I wasn't here yesterday. After seeing my family, I didn't know how to get home without broadcasting my presence even more than I already had, and I really needed a shoulder to cry on, so I went to stay with Remus."
"Remus? Remus Lupin? The werewolf?" He sounded surprised.
"Of course! It's not as if there was a full moon last night, after all. And Remus is an old friend of mine. He's the one who helped me leave the wizarding world, and he convinced me to come back. He forced me to see Fred and George, too. He has really been wonderful. And completely nonjudgmental, unlike some others I could name," she said this last with a scowl.
"Huh? Did I judge? Oh, that comment about Lupin--sorry about that."
"Oh, I didn't mean you, actually, though thank you for apologizing about Remus. I meant my prat of a brother, Ron."
"What did the Weasel do now?" She glared at him. "Sorry. Old habits die hard, and the two of us still don't get along, you know."
"Actually, I don't know. I've realized that I know next to nothing. After all, here you are, Draco Malfoy of all people, being mostly nice. You even apologize for saying mean things. And my own brother refuses to see me!"
"He what?!"
"When I arrived at the Burrow last night, my mum insisted on Flooing all my brothers and they all came, except for Ron. Hermione said that he called me selfish for leaving and is angry because he got stuck with the press and the hero business when I left."
"You weren't selfish for leaving. You did what you had to do, and if he wanted to escape the press, he should have left as well. Don't let it bother you, Ginny."
"That's easy for you to say. Your brother doesn't hate you."
"No, my brother doesn't hate me, because I don't have a brother. But if I did, he probably would. Most of the world does, after all." He sounded bitter.
Ginny felt a sudden surge of sympathy for him. "I'm sorry, I don't want to wallow in self-pity. And I have trouble believing that everyone hates you. You always had such a following at school. Not to mention that you seem quite pleasant now."
"Well, a lot has changed," Draco said with a sigh.
"I guess so," she said with a half-hearted smile. "I suppose war and a whole lot of time do have that effect, don't they?"
"Yes, yes they do." There was a long, awkward pause in the conversation while both of them finished off the last of their coffee without looking at each other.
"I..." Draco began hesitantly. "I... Er... Would... Er... Would you be willing to hear about it?"
Ginny was a little surprised at his nervousness. "Hear about what?"
"About the war... And a whole lot of time?"
"If you want to tell me," she said, smiling reassuringly, "then yes, I'd like to hear."
Draco looked relieved. "I need to go now, but will you join me for dinner tonight? I'll tell you then."
She nodded and he scribbled an address on a napkin. "Here, this is my flat. You can walk from here. Will seven work?" She nodded again and he was gone. She looked down at the address and felt her stomach clench in nervousness. What was she getting herself into?
***
Ginny took a deep breath as she stepped off of the lift and faced the door of Draco's flat. She had never been in a building like this before. It reeked of old money and understated elegance. She had no doubt that the flat had been in the Malfoy family for centuries. It just underscored the differences between them. Their families hated each other, or at least they had. What was she doing, befriending a Malfoy? She knocked.
After a few moments, Draco answered the door with a wooden spoon in his hand. The unexpected sight somehow made her feel better.
"Ginny, come in! I'll be just a minute, but please make yourself at home."
Draco led her into a large and well-proportioned parlor. The furnishings were mostly antiques, probably worth more than Ginny's entire flat. But there were a few modern pieces placed here and there that helped keep the effect from being stifling. The highlight of the room, however, was the three large windows that overlooked St. James Park. She wandered over to them and watched the ducks on the pond until Draco returned.
"It's a nice view, isn't it?" he asked as he reentered the room. "I'm not sure if I would keep the flat if it weren't for the view. That and the fact that four centuries of my ancestors would probably all roll over in their graves if I sold it."
"It's lovely," she said, turning to him with a smile. Then, thinking of the spoon he had held, she added, "I never would have thought you would cook."
"Well, this is a Muggle building, and it wouldn't do to have a Muggle spot a house-elf, would it? So I learned to cook a few meals when I moved here. I eat out most of the time, but it is a rather relaxing pastime on the weekends. Would you like some wine? I bought it just for you."
Ginny looked at the bottle he was holding out for her inspection. In their coffee house conversations, they had discovered a mutual love of wine. Ginny, having developed her tastes in the United States, drank a lot of relatively inexpensive Californian wines. Meanwhile, Draco knew next to nothing about American wines, but nearly everything about French wine.
One night when she was still living in Chicago, Ginny had tasted a Châteauneuf-du-Pape at a wine bar and had been instantly won over. When she had a little extra money to spend on wine, she would buy a bottle and savor it. Draco had apparently remembered her story, and had opened a particularly nice bottle.
"You remembered," she smiled up at him.
"Of course. It's not often that I find someone who gets so excited about wine. And I had no idea what you were talking about with the American wines. I actually tried to buy one today, but I spent twenty minutes just staring at the bottles in the store this afternoon, and couldn't figure out what was what. But Châteauneuf-du-Pape I could comprehend."
"Well, I do appreciate it. And if you want to buy a Californian wine, you could always just pick one with a label you like the looks of." He looked absolutely horrified by this. "What?" she asked with false innocence. "It's worked for me loads of times!"
As they laughed, they grew more and more comfortable with each other. They talked a little more about wine--Draco offered to let Ginny try some of his best Burgundies and Bordeaux, and she threatened him with a single-vineyard Ravenswood Zinfandel. The conversation then moved on to other things as well. Draco seemed to be interested in almost every topic Ginny brought up, and she couldn't believe how easy it was to talk to him.
After a while, Draco had to go see to dinner, and Ginny followed him into the kitchen without even worrying that it was probably rude. He didn't seem to notice, though; he just kept talking.
By the time they finished an excellent dinner of rosemary-encrusted lamb chops, potatoes fried with nutmeg, and green beans tossed with toasted almonds, Ginny felt as if they had known each other for years. And then she realized that she had known him for years. Or at least she thought she had. And that made her remember why she was there.
Draco must have picked up on her change of mood. He disappeared back into the kitchen to retrieve the creme brulée. They ate it quietly, each immersed in their own thoughts. When they finished, Draco led Ginny into a cozy sitting room, lit the fire and several candles, and opened a bottle of Armagnac.
"So..." Ginny said.
"So... I guess it's time for me to spill my guts," he said with a half smile.
"You don't need to tell me anything, Draco. After tonight I can tell that you have changed. I don't know what caused it, but I'm not sure I need to."
"I don't know why it is, but I feel like I owe you an explanation. It doesn't make any sense," he said wryly, "after all, you were married to Harry Bloody Potter. I haven't told the story to anyone besides my mother. But for some reason, I trust you. And if there is any chance that you might still want to know me after this, you deserve to know."
Ginny wasn't sure how to respond. She just settled deeper into the very comfortable sofa, and waited for him to continue.
"My father was a Death Eater. I'm sure you know this. It became common knowledge at the end of my fifth year, when he was sent to Azkaban. At least it was clear to those who weren't trying to delude themselves. Though I suppose you of all people knew before that, considering what he did to you in your first year."
Ginny, all of a sudden, became very fascinated with her fingernails.
"Most of my time at Hogwarts, I wanted to follow in his footsteps. I looked up to my father and thought he could do no wrong. He was a Malfoy, and he had taught me what that meant. To be a Malfoy was to be the pinnacle of the wizarding world, to be the strongest, richest, most powerful wizards there are, and to do everything in one's power to maintain that. He was never easy on me - he tested me, to make sure I was up to snuff. All I ever wanted was to please him, and to live up to my name. Once the Dark Lord rose again at the end of my fourth year, my father made it clear that to please him, I would need to please the Dark Lord. So all I wanted was to become a Death Eater."
Ginny was saddened by his admission. When they were in school, she had been convinced that he was a Death Eater. But after tonight, she hoped there had been more to him than that, even then. She decided to withhold judgement for the time being.
"It would have been stupid to give the Mark to those of us who were still at Hogwarts, under Dumbledore's watchful eye," he continued, "but we were still expected to help the Cause. I informed my father of whatever information I could learn at school, and sometimes he gave me assignments that would help the Dark Lord. But then, over the Easter holidays of my seventh year, he took me to my first meeting with the Dark Lord. And that changed everything."
Ginny looked up then, and caught his eye.
"At the meeting, we were told that there would be an attack on Hogwarts that would end in Potter's death, and victory for the Cause. We were all given assignments for the final battle. I was given the most important assignment of all the students - I was to incapacitate you, your brother, and Granger, so you couldn't help Potter. And I was willing to do it. I hated Potter, and would do whatever it took to get rid of him."
Ginny began to withdraw. She slipped her shoes off, and pulled her legs up onto the sofa, hugging them to her desperately. He was the old Draco, after all. Draco reached a hand out, and nearly touched her shoulder, but contained himself.
"But then... But then my father... He bowed down to the Dark Lord. I could hardly believe it. As long as I remembered, he had taught me that Malfoys bowed to no one; that we were the epitome of wizard-kind. And he actually kissed the hem of that... thing's... cloak. And it made me wonder... It made me wonder how centuries of Malfoy superiority had led to my father bowing to some jumped up half-blood.
"When I got back to Hogwarts, I was in turmoil. Did I respect my father enough to follow him into servitude? Or was I Malfoy enough to stand up for what the family name meant? And, most importantly, what would happen to me in either case? I was, and still am, a Slytherin through and through, and my own well being comes above everything else. I'm not sure how I can expect you, a Gryffindor, to understand, but this is what it was like for me. It all boiled down to the question of what was in my own best interest. And, I am sorry to say, I couldn't decide."
Ginny looked at him again, trying to comprehend his story, but he was unfathomable.
"When it came down to it, I couldn't manage to do anything." He smiled wryly at her questioning gaze. "What do you think, Ginny? Did I accomplish my assignment? Were you incapacitated?" She looked down at her hands again. "No, I thought not. Maybe you would have been, but I hid in a closet instead."
Ginny's head snapped up at this admission. "You probably think I'm a coward - you are a Gryffindor, after all," he said, "but I couldn't really stomach taking either side. If I sided with the Dark Lord, it meant subjecting myself to his power, which I was unwilling to do unless it was absolutely necessary. And if I sided with you, I was practically admitting that Potter had been right all along, which I was equally unwilling to do. So I hid and waited to see which side came out ahead.
"You'll probably hate me for this, but if Voldemort had won, I would have thrown my lot in with him, even if it meant subservience. I would have found some excuse for not following through with my assignment, and would have been tortured to within an inch of my life for my failure. In the end, though, the Dark Lord would have remembered my bank account and spared me. But Potter won, which was much more awkward, really. Dumbledore and the Order never really believed that I didn't help the Dark Lord at the end, and all those that actually did help believed that I was a traitor to the Cause.
"And that brings us to the last ten years. I did have a following at Hogwarts, as you put it before, but I never had any friends. They respected money and power, and I had both. But they were never my friends. Those of them that managed to survive think I betrayed them. Theo Nott is the only one who doesn't, and he had turned against the Dark Lord well before I did. On the other hand, anyone who supported Potter, Dumbledore, and the Order were extremely slow to accept me. In fact, most of them still don't. They don't believe that I turned of my own accord. They think it was entirely a matter of siding with the home team. And to be honest, they're right. I have tried to do things that would brand me as ‘good,' like giving lots of money to charity, but it hasn't really helped, and I can't say I blame anyone for that. They have, after all, been only gestures. No one is willing to accuse me directly of anything. After all, there isn't enough evidence, and they're scared I would sue for libel if they tried. But the prejudice is there. No one refuses to take my money, that's for sure, but there is a level of insolence and disrespect wherever I go in the wizarding world.
"There are a few exceptions, people who have learned to respect me for what I am and the business I do, who are willing to look beyond my past. Your brothers are among them, which is part of why I continue to invest in their firm. Even if they weren't one of my biggest sources of revenue, I would continue to pour money into their business because of them. But most people try to take me for everything I'm worth, so I return the favor. I have a reputation as a very shrewd, very ruthless businessman, and for good reason. Don't tell anyone this, but there are some people I could never be ruthless with, like Fred and George. Every now and then I think I should be, but then I will meet with them and have a ball in the process, and I'll forget all about it." He stopped talking, and spent several minutes looking at his perfectly manicured hands.
After a few minutes, Ginny broke the silence. "Why did you want to tell me about this, Draco?" she asked.
"Because... Because you are a witch and are willing to give me a chance. I have done what I set out to do after the war. I am one of the richest and most powerful men in the wizarding world, as befits a Malfoy, and I have never subjected myself to anyone. But it is a lonely life. For years, my only social life has been with Muggles. To be honest, it really hasn't been too bad. I have some friends, real friends. I've even dated some Muggles. Can you believe that? There was one woman that I seriously considered marrying, but my training in pure-blood morality kicked in and I couldn't bring myself to actually do it. I'm ashamed to say I cheated on her just so she would break it off and I didn't have to. And at first I thought you could be another Muggle friend. But then you turned out to be a witch, and you came back, even though you knew who I was. I figured that you deserve to know the worst of it if you are going to continue."
He trailed off and refused to meet her eyes. She stared at him for several minutes, trying to process all that he had said.
"It isn't easy for me to trust you, Draco. You made my life, and the lives of people I love, hell for many years in school. I believe that when it came down to it, you didn't side with Voldemort, but you also didn't do anything to stop him. But... but I have enjoyed our conversations, and I am honored that you would tell me about your past. I would like to know you - even if I don't entirely trust you yet. Is that okay with you?"
He smiled at her and said, "That will do for now. Thank you for not dismissing me out of hand."
"You could have dismissed me just as easily."
"No," he said, "I've learned to never dismiss a potential friend."
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