. . . . . .
A man who does not lose his reason over certain things has none to lose. - Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
. . . . . .
Ginny Weasley was not the sort of person to blindly hope that everything was going to turn out all right. Perhaps she had been, once, but that was before her best friend had turned out to be Tom Riddle and she’d very nearly gotten herself and her fellow students killed as a result of his deception and betrayal. That had been hard for her, harder than most people knew. She had gotten over it, but the experience had changed her. She was still just as upbeat and outgoing as she had ever been, but she found it harder to trust other people, to trust herself, to trust in the general goodness of the world- which was why it was so surprising that she had started to hope that maybe things with Draco would work out after all.
He hadn’t declared his undying love for her yet, of course, and she still felt somewhat inferior when she reflected on the type of girl he had dated in his past- even Pansy Parkinson, ill-mannered and alcoholic, was well-bred and sophisticated- but Ginny felt she and Draco had been getting along very well of late. Maybe there was a chance that . . .
That what? she demanded of herself as her mind wandered down that path yet again the Thursday after the party. She tried very hard to ignore that thought, as she had been doing for two weeks now, but it persisted and she finally gave in and decided that maybe it would be wise after all to decide for herself what she wanted. She wanted Draco to return her love, that was sure, but how? Did she want a boyfriend? Or did she want him to tell her to forget the eighteen-month limit and stay with him forever? It was a question that made her pause. Did she really want to be married to Draco Malfoy for as long as they both should live? Did she want Draco Malfoy to father her children? Did she want to throw her lot in with him, to be Mrs. Malfoy for the rest of her life?
She was pondering all this from inside a heavy quilt on a chair on a balcony on the fourth floor. It had been a long day at work and she’d come out to watch the sunset and relax, bringing a quilt to fight off the chill still lingering from the afternoon’s rainstorm. With she and Draco being so close lately, Ginny might have dared to ask him to come sit with her, but he wasn’t there. Another business trip had come up, which was in some ways better and in many ways much worse. It was nice not to be in such a constant state of worry about what he was thinking about her and what he thought she was thinking about him, but on the other hand she missed him a great deal. And he wasn’t expected home until Sunday. If they ever did get married- or stay married, she amended to herself- she hoped he wouldn’t leave on business so much.
Of course, she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that he was in the habit of leaving so often on business; for as long as he’d been working at the Ministry, he hadn’t had anyone he was leaving behind. That was another disconcerting thought. He’d never had anyone depending on him before. Was she holding him back from things he really wanted to do? Did he resent her being there?
She was inclined to think not. After all, he did seem to get along with her quite well. Sometimes she thought that they were friends. He had even hugged her of his own volition at Ron and Hermione’s party. And people hugged their friends, didn’t they?
But did he want to be more than that? And did she want him to be more than that? She found herself fiddling absent-mindedly with her ring, and after a moment she pulled it off and looked at the back of her hand. There was a dent and a white line where the ring had been. She knew that if she stopped wearing it, the mark it had left would soon disappear. But she also knew that it would take much longer than that for her to forget the mark that this marriage to Draco had left on her.
She slipped her ring back on her finger. “This is what I want,” she said aloud, but softly, afraid someone would hear. And then she leaned her head back against the chair and sighed.
Wednesday was a holiday in the wizard world, a five hundred year-old celebration of the day that, according to legend, the wizards and witches of Britain abolished feudal rule and set up the Ministry of Magic. Ginny got ready for work that morning while enduring no end of ribbing from Draco, who didn’t have to work because the entire Ministry shut down for the holiday.
Ginny thought that was fairly silly to give every employee the day off, especially considering that the Death Eaters had taken advantage of the total emptiness of the building when they’d tried to take over the Ministry offices on that exact day several years earlier. But, she supposed, it wasn’t her concern, so she left for work after saying goodbye to Draco, who suddenly seemed somewhat subdued despite his earlier high spirits in teasing her.
Her curiosity over his sudden reticence plagued her all day. It was a very slow day at St. Mungo’s, and she had plenty of time to wonder.
“I guess England’s behaving herself today,” Glennis said, coming up behind Ginny in the break room.
Ginny nodded her agreement. It was one-thirty in the afternoon and they’d only had two emergency calls the entire day. “You’d think that with the holiday more people would be out doing things and getting themselves injured.”
“Oh, yes, I’d forgotten about the holiday,” Glennis said. “Not that many businesses close for it anymore.”
“Except the Ministry,” Ginny said, her mind still on Draco.
“Oh, so your husband is off for the day,” Glennis said. “How dreadful that you’re stuck here.” She took a moment to check her wristwatch and said, “You know, I’ve got two new trainees coming in at two. How about you show them around, and then take the rest of the day off?”
Ginny was only too ready to agree to such a plan, and by a quarter to three she was back at Malfoy Manor. As she opened the front door, she nearly knocked over the house elf who was on the other side, polishing the doorknob. “Sorry!” she cried as the elf steadied herself.
“It is not Mistress’s fault,” the elf squeaked, clearly not used to being addressed by the mistress. “Sully should not have been behind the door.”
“You didn’t know I was coming,” Ginny said reassuringly before the elf got the idea to start beating herself for being knocked over. “Say, have you seen Draco?”
The elf appeared to be thinking hard. “Sully heard Master was going to visit old Master and Mistress’s graves.”
“His parents?” Ginny asked. “In London?”
“Sully is not sure,” the elf said. “Bernard might know-”
“It’s all right,” Ginny said, not wanting to trouble the elf more than she already had. “Thank you.” It would make sense, after all- the thought of visiting his parents’ graves would explain his somber mood that morning, and besides, many people used the holiday as a sort of day of remembrance for their dead. And that meant that Draco was most likely in London, in the national wizarding graveyard in Croydon. At least, she knew that Narcissa was buried there.
She considered going to find him, but she felt sure that if Draco had wanted her there he would have asked her to come. He probably wanted this time to himself, and she was willing to let him have that.
What to do, then? She considered catching up on paperwork- or sleep- but then she thought of the wonderful weather outside and decided to explore the park behind the house. She’d only ever been where Draco had taken her, and she wanted to see more of the beautiful grounds. After changing out of her work robes, she walked out back, picked a path, and headed off into the park.
The day was warm, the scenery beautiful, and Ginny smiled contentedly as she walked. The manicured yard soon gave way to meadows, interrupted by an occasional copse of trees, though the real woods were around the edge of the land. The scene was so sylvan, so serenely rural, that she almost gasped in surprise when she came out of a clump of trees at the top of a small hill and saw, to her left and some distance away in the trees, a gate in a tall stone wall. She was sure she hadn’t reached the edge of the Malfoy property, so, curious, she left the path and walked toward it.
It was a cemetery, as it turned out, completely hidden from view of the house by a tall group of trees. That didn’t surprise Ginny; before the construction of the national cemetery in London, those rich enough to own land in the country had been buried behind their houses. She wasn’t normally the type to frequent cemeteries, but she was curious and didn’t have anything else to do, and she tried the gate. It was closed but not locked, and she slipped through, surprised that it didn’t squeak as she closed it behind her.
The cemetery was not large- at least, in comparison with the national cemetery, which was the only graveyard with which she was very familiar- and surrounded on all sides by the stone wall. Within the walls were dozens of graves, most of them quite impressive and flanked by statues. Looking around, she saw the dates on the headstones were all from the eighteenth century or before; the national cemetery had been built in 1805, she knew, so it seemed her guess about the cemetery’s use was correct. She moved among the trees and statues, quietly examining the graves and the unfamiliar names on them and feeling a strange sense of respect for these, her newly discovered Malfoy kin.
She was so absorbed in looking around that she didn’t notice Draco until she was nearly right on top of him. He was some twenty feet away, his back to her, looking at a grave whose headstone seemed significantly newer than the others she’d seen. He was so still, standing there with his hands clasped behind his back, that she suddenly felt that she’d walked into something she shouldn’t. So, holding her breath, she began slowly backing away.
“I already know you’re there, Ginny.”
Fighting back an embarrassed grimace but still glad to see Draco, she walked toward him. “Sorry to barge in on you like this,” she said. “The house elves said you’d gone to London.”
He didn’t look at her. “So you decided to take advantage of my absence to go poking around a graveyard?” His voice was strangely flat.
She chuckled and immediately felt strange doing it in such a somber setting. “Glennis let me leave work early and I decided to take a walk, but then I saw this and I wanted to know what it was, and . . . anyway, I really thought you were in London. The house elf said you were at your parents’ graves.”
Draco was silent. After a moment, Ginny dared another step forward to read the simple headstone Draco was looking at, and she was shocked to see that the name carved there was Lucius Malfoy. Based on the death date it was the anniversary of his passing, and Ginny bit her lip as she suddenly remembered that Lucius had been killed in the raid on the Ministry exactly two years ago.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I forgot, and when they said you were at the cemetery, I just assumed it was the one in London, because I thought your mum was buried there-”
“She is buried there,” Draco said, shortly and acrimoniously. He still hadn’t looked at her, and it was then that she realized that he was angry- although, it seemed, not at her.
She hadn’t seen him angry like this since their first day of marriage. She didn’t know if she should stay or flee and leave him with his grief. But she wanted to be there for him, if he needed her, so she asked, softly, “Why isn’t your father there, too?”
He finally looked at her, his smile false and laced with bitterness. “Didn’t you know? They don’t bury war criminals there. He and Mother bought that plot twenty years ago, and they always planned to be there together. But when I went to bury him the Ministry told me that they didn’t want him in their cemetery.”
“Did they let you have a funeral?”
“Of course. In fact, they let me use the Great Hall at Hogwarts. My father always was a favorite there.” And then he was staring down at the grave again, his moment of sarcastic anger over. “No, we just buried him. The house elves and I were the entire funeral party.” And then he stopped and pursed his lips together, as though he felt he’d said too much.
“No one else was there?” Ginny asked in shock.
“Snape was going to come, but then Voldemort summoned him,” Draco said, his voice once again flat. He was withdrawing, Ginny knew, hiding his emotions away from her in an attempt to maintain his illusion of confident carelessness. “The Death Eaters never cared much about taking time to bury their dead.”
“When was this?”
He didn’t respond until she repeated her question. And then, reluctantly, he said, “The day after the battle.”
“The day after,” Ginny repeated softly, her eyes widening. Things were beginning to fall into place, memories and events, and she had a feeling she knew more about that day than she’d originally thought. Draco looked away from her, a movement that Ginny recognized as a sign of discomfort, and she knew she was right. “The day back in the war, when you dragged me away from the Burrow and made me stand watch in your front hall all afternoon, you were out here burying your father.” She remembered that day only too well.
“There was no one else,” he said, and then winced as though he regretted speaking.
That struck her like a blow, the thought that he had once been so alone in the world that the only people he could find to help him with his father’s burial were the servants and an ill-tempered girl he had to coerce into helping. She thought of how she’d been so angry afterwards that she’d hit him, and her face burned with shame. “What about Elise or James?”
“Everyone still thought I was on the Continent. It had to be someone in the Order.” He sounded resigned, and Ginny knew that his brief moment of emotional openness was nearly over. If she didn’t keep him talking, she’d lose him back behind his usual facade.
“I was so angry with you for pulling me away from the party,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were doing?”
But apparently he was done talking. “Go back to the house, Ginny,” he said, his voice entirely flat, and she knew she’d lost this chance to see behind his mask.
“Draco, I’m sorry I hit you that day,” she tried again.
“Go home, Ginny,” he said, his voice still colorless but suddenly so firm that she was three steps toward the gate before she stopped herself. Her first inclination was to leave him alone, as he claimed to want, but then as she stopped and looked back at him, she had a sudden vision of him standing in that same spot two years earlier, looking down at a freshly dug grave, then, as now, very, very alone. She hadn’t done anything about it then- hadn’t known he was alone then, hadn’t loved him then- but now things were different. Without thinking it through any further, she marched the three steps back to Draco and grabbed his hand.
His response was so immediate it was almost comical- or would have been, in another situation. Draco immediately began trying to get away from her, pulling his arm away and swinging and twisting their joined hands in an attempt to extract his fingers from her firm grip. “Let go of me,” he said harshly.
“No.”
She hadn’t expected him to be so upset by her touch. As he kept flailing and telling her to let go, Ginny saw his expression become increasingly agitated, as though his mask was crumbling into pieces and allowing his real feelings to show through. She stood fast, her fingers clamped tight around his, though he was strong and it was hard to hold on to him.
“Ginny, let go,” he begged one last time, sounding desperate.
“Not until you talk to me, Draco.”
Then she saw, with sudden shock, that there were now tears running down his face. She was so surprised that she almost released his hand, but at that moment he stopped resisting her and stood stock still. “Don’t you get it?” he shouted through his tears. “I killed him. I killed my own father.”
She shook her head, surprised and confused. “You weren’t even there.”
“I was supposed to be there. I Apparated over with everyone else, but then I saw my father there and I couldn’t stand to face him. He still didn’t know I’d joined the Order. He thought I was hiding out on the Continent. I’d decided I’d rather have him think I was a coward than to know that I’d turned against him.”
“Draco-”
“Even when I was in the Order, it never occurred to me that he might die. He always managed to get out of everything. But I killed him.”
“The Order killed him,” Ginny said placatingly, inwardly wondering how Draco could think he’d killed his father when she knew for a fact that it was Ron and Hermione who had. “He was a casualty of war.”
Draco shook his head, and something in Ginny’s mind vaguely registered that at some point, she’d stopped squeezing his hand and it was now he who was gripping her hand as though she was the only thing anchoring him to the ground. “The Death Eaters were using a special defensive spell,” he choked out. “I told the Order how to get past it. If I hadn’t, they never could have killed him.” He looked at her desperately. “Who would do that to their own father?”
They were getting into dangerous waters. Ginny desperately wished that Dumbledore or even Remus Lupin were there instead of her. They would know what to say to comfort the suddenly unstable Draco Malfoy. He at least deserved that, instead of her clumsy words. “You did the right thing,” she said, because it was the one thing that made sense.
“How could that have possibly been the right thing?” Draco was no longer shouting or pulling away from her, but tears were still streaming down his face. “There have only ever been two people in the world who really loved me, and after one died I betrayed the other to join the Order. How could the right thing make me make him die?”
Three people, she thought sadly, and put her free hand on his free arm. “You didn’t make your father do anything,” she said firmly. “He followed Voldemort of his own free will and you were only reacting to that. It was a war. He had to have known that people die in wars and that by starting one, he was in danger. And you were only doing what felt right to you. That’s the only thing that you’re accountable for. You are not responsible for your father’s bad choices.”
He stared at her, wide-eyed, as though this was the first time he’d heard of such a thing. His shoulders were still shaking and he looked tired. She sighed and pulled out her wand, then slipped one arm around him. He didn’t protest as she Apparated away to the Manor. Ignoring the surprised looks of the house elves, she fetched him a glass of water from the kitchen, then Apparated again, this time up to his bedroom. “You should try to get some sleep, Draco.”
He obediently slipped off his shoes and robe and climbed under the covers, shaking his head when she offered him the water she’d gotten. She used her wand to extinguish the lights, then reached down to brush the hair out of his face. His eyes were closed and she thought she was already asleep, but suddenly he opened his eyes and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t go,” he whispered. She tried to pull away but his grip was tight and he was staring up at her pleadingly.
This is a bad idea, she told herself. It’s just because he’s upset, and when he’s feeling better he’ll forget about this and it will just hurt you. But as reasonable as this was, Ginny couldn’t abandon her Draco when he need her. So she set her wand on the bedside table and kicked off her shoes, Draco still grasping her hand, and then she climbed onto the bed and over the lump he made under the covers. “Because you always sleep on the right,” she whispered as she situated herself on the left side of the bed- on top of the covers, she told herself firmly. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips, and she scooted close to him and put the arm he still held around him. He relaxed into her embrace, his shoulders still shaking with the occasional hiccup. Soon his grip on her hand loosened and she knew he was asleep.
She lay there next to him for a few moments, torn as to what to do next. Part of her wanted to stay there with him, to see how he reacted when he awoke. But the more rational part of her was afraid that he would be upset that she was there, and after a brief internal struggle that rational side won. Moving carefully, she extracted her hand from his and slid off the other side of the bed, then collected her shoes and her wand and slipped into her own room, leaving Draco once again alone.
. . . . . .
It was highly inconvenient, Severus Snape reflected for not the first time, to be given stewardship of a place so far from Hogwarts. He visited Malfoy Manor at least once a week, and getting there required quite a bit of travel, what with the anti-Apparation spells at the school. What was even worse than going to Malfoy Manor once a week, however, was going twice a week, as he was forced to do that Wednesday afternoon. There was some business that needed taking care of, and Wednesday was the only evening of the entire week that suited him to leave the school. So, with a sigh, he wrapped his cloak around himself and began the journey to Malfoy Manor.
In truth, though, Severus didn’t mind the trips to Malfoy Manor nearly as much as he once had. Things had definitely improved in the last few months. Draco was much more open with him lately, much more patient and understanding, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why: it was all one Ginevra Weasley Malfoy. Which led to the second reason Severus no longer minded making trips to Malfoy Manor: he had recently taken to observing Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy and trying to gauge their feelings for each other.
It was certainly a strange pastime for the potions master. Severus had never had any interest in other people’s love lives before, but that was before Draco and Ginny. He had to admit, he had not been pleased to find out those two had wed, especially given the questionable circumstances around it. Since then, however, things had changed. Severus had seen the influence Ginny had on Draco, had seen the way she was able to handle him and his unpredictable emotions and his high-handed ways better than any of his earlier girlfriends. And soon after Severus had observed this, he’d found himself wishing that their marriage were not so temporary. And soon after that, he’d made up his mind that Draco ought not to let Ginny get away from him.
Of course it was highly unusual for a Weasley to join into the Malfoy line, but Ginny had proven that she could bear the Malfoy name with dignity. And Draco needed a wife. Severus wanted him to have someone to look after him, to keep him in line, to mother his heir. Most of all, though Severus would have eaten wolfsbane rather than admit it, he wanted his young friend to be happy. And although Ginny and Draco were a strange pair, since their wedding Draco had been happier than Severus had seen him in years. Yes, it was time that Draco settled down, and the perfect woman was already wearing his ring. The only question left, the one that Severus had been ruminating on for some time, was how to get Draco to realize this.
He was still thinking about it when he arrived at Malfoy Manor and rang the bell. Bernard the house elf showed him in with exquisite correctness, then spoke apologetically. Severus decided that it was a sign of how familiar he was becoming at the Manor, that the house elf dared to offer his opinions. “I’m not sure Master Draco is entirely up to callers today, Master Snape. Today is, as you may recall, the anniversary of Master Lucius’s death, and Master Draco spent the day visiting his parents’ graves.”
“Where is he now?” Severus asked resignedly. He’d completely forgotten that it was the day Lucius had died, and he was sure that Draco was in no fit state to do business- he took Lucius’s death very hard. It appeared that the trip from Hogwarts had been in vain.
“He is up in his room. But I believe he’s fine now. Mistress Ginny was with him.”
Severus raised his eyebrows in sudden surprise. “What do you mean, with him?” The house elves knew of Draco and Ginny’s sleeping arrangements, but he wasn’t sure if they realized that they were unusual. Still, Bernard would know if Ginny had been in Draco’s room instead of in her own.
Bernard seemed aback by Severus’s sudden interest. “They were out in the family plot together and she helped him back inside. He was crying, and she Apparated with him up to his room.” House elves were very powerful, Severus knew, and he wasn’t surprised that Bernard could sense where his master and mistress had Apparated to.
“Are they still there?” he asked.
“No. I went to ask him a question and he was asleep and she was in her own room. Will there be anything else, Master Snape?”
“No, I’m fine,” Severus said distractedly. “I’ll try back another day.” He let himself out and Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron, deep in thought. Perhaps Ginny and Draco were even closer than he’d thought. But if Ginny was still in her own room, then perhaps he was misreading the situation. Or perhaps, he decided finally, they were closer than he’d thought, but they hadn’t been able to admit it, to themselves or anyone else.
And that, he decided, was not acceptable. Something needed to be done to convince Draco he didn’t want to lose Ginny. Severus didn’t want Draco to waste any time producing an heir or running Malfoy Manor the way he was always meant to do.
And then the idea hit him, clear and simple and concise. Severus looked up at the clock. It was just before five, so if he hurried he could probably reach the office of the Malfoys’ lawyer before he left for the day. And then, with any luck, Draco and Ginny’s marriage could be sorted out by dinner. A self-satisfied smirk crossed Severus’s face, and he signaled to the bartender that he was done.
The Malfoys’ lawyer, an imposing man named Stirling, was quite surprised by Severus’s request. After examining Lucius’s will, however, he agreed that Severus was well within his rights. He wrote out a document detailing the changes Severus wanted to implement and then they both Apparated to the Wiltshire county government offices. It was closed for the holiday, but Severus had connections with people in the county, and a few calls on the Floo Network got a notary there. While the notary watched, Severus and Mr. Stirling signed the paper. A quick spell made two more copies of the paper; one was filed in the offices there, Mr. Stirling took one with him back to his own offices, and Severus took the last and Apparated to Malfoy Manor.
It was a six-thirty by then, which meant the Malfoys were probably eating dinner. Severus was an old friend, however, so he unhesitatingly knocked on the door. Unfortunately, when Bernard answered it, it was only to tell Severus that Draco was still asleep and Ginny had gone to dinner at her parents’ house. Biting back a curse, Severus decided to wake Draco up and then go find Ginny. He would have waited for Ginny to come home, but there was a summer staff meeting at Hogwarts at seven-thirty that he was required to attend.
When he Apparated up to Draco’s room, the popping sound that heralded his arrival woke the young Lord Malfoy with a start. He blinked blearily, and then suddenly his eyes widened and he turned to look at the other side of the bed. It was empty, of course, and somehow that made Draco look disappointed.
It wasn’t until he’d sat up and stretched that he noticed Severus standing in his room. “I know you miss me when you’re away, Severus,” he said, his voice still thick with sleep, “but this is just going too far.”
“Hilarious,” Severus said dryly. “I’m here on business, and I decided you’d been sleeping long enough. Since when do you sleep during the middle of the day?” As expected, that made Draco suddenly look uncomfortable. “Never mind,” Severus said. “Come sit down.”
Draco obediently got out of bed and sat at the large oaken table in the corner of his very large suite. Severus sat across from him and clasped his hands. “I’ve been thinking about this setup we have,” he began, “and I don’t like it. I’m always glad to help your family out, but you don’t inherit the estate fully for another fifteen months, and acting as estate steward for the last two years has taken up a great deal of my time and cut into my teaching career.”
“I’m sorry,” Draco said, sounding mildly confused. “What are you saying, then?”
“You’ve learned a lot over the last few months. I think you’re ready to run Malfoy Manor by yourself.” He took out the paper and set it in front of Draco. “I had Stirling write this up. It turns the Manor over entirely to you, effective immediately.”
Draco’s eyes widened and he set to examining the paper. “Entirely to me?”
“I’ll always be available if you need any help,” Severus went on as Draco read over the deed. “Or I’m sure that Zabini or Stewart would be willing to assist. But I think it’s about time you took on the responsibility. I think you’re ready.”
Draco looked up at him, his lips curving into a smile. Severus knew that he’d been wanting to run the Manor by himself, as his father and his grandfather and his great-grandfather had done- it was a matter of pride. “Thank you, Severus,” he said sincerely, then returned to reading.
Severus smiled. It was time to drop the bomb. “And what’s even better,” he said in his best cold-hearted git voice, “is that now no one has any leverage to force you into marriage, and you don’t have to stay in this one. You can drop that Muggle-loving Weasley girl right this moment, if you want.”
Even with Draco looking down at the tabletop, Severus could see his brow furrow. Then the young man slowly looked up at his old teacher, his expression somewhat confused and concerned.
“Just a thought,” Severus said.
“Oh,” said Draco, a thousand different emotions running over his face. “I- uh, I-” And he trailed off.
Severus, who had rarely seen his young friend at a loss for words, carefully hid a smile. “I understand Ginny is visiting her parents tonight.”
“Oh. I . . . Are you going to tell her?”
To say yes would seem strange- if it had really just been Manor business, it wouldn’t have concerned Ginny- so Severus shrugged nonchalantly. “She’s not home, and I don’t really want to wait. But maybe I’ll stop by the Burrow.”
Draco nodded again, still looking confused. Then he stood. “I think- I think I’m going to go see James.” He walked back to his bed and slipped on his robes and shoes. “I’ll talk to you later, Severus. Thank you again.” And then a smile slipped onto his face. “And I’ll- I’ll talk to Ginny.” And then he Apparated away.
Severus smirked, feeling very pleased with himself, and collected the deed off the table. He strolled out of the room and down the stairs at a leisurely pace, wondering whether to go to the Burrow now or wait until Ginny came home. It was only a quarter to seven, and he decided that as long as he left within a half-hour, he’d have time to get back to Hogwarts. With another self-satisfied smile, he sat down in the den to wait.
. . . . . .
It was ten to seven when Ginny left her parents’ house. Normally she would have stayed longer, but her curiosity was killing her. She wondered if Draco was awake yet, what he’d thought about her leaving his bed, if he even remembered that she’d stayed. And so, when the wondering finally got to be too much for her to stand, she bid her parents good night and Apparated home.
She was about to walk upstairs when she saw firelight flickering out of the den. The fire only burned when someone was in the room, so Draco had to be in there. Taking a deep breath and smoothing down her hair with her hands, she walked into the den . . .
. . . and saw Severus Snape. “Professor Snape,” she said, fighting back her disappointment. “What a surprise.”
“Mrs. Malfoy,” her old professor replied. “Charming to see you.”
“Are you here for Draco?”
“And you,” he replied. “Have a seat, Ginevra.”
She obediently sat down. “What can I do for you?”
“I have some news that might interest you,” he said. “You know I’ve always been opposed to the way Draco forced you into this marriage, but we now have the means of remedying it.”
“What do you mean?” Ginny asked, fighting back a sudden panic.
“It’s been very hard for me to travel back and forth between Malfoy Manor and Hogwarts every week,” he explained. “I know Lucius wanted me to help Draco out as he learned how to run the estate, but Draco has picked up on it much quicker than expected. I think he’s ready to take full control.” He produced the paper. “This relinquishes my power as temporary steward. Malfoy Manor is now Draco’s.”
“He’ll be happy to hear that,” Ginny said softly. Draco had told her before that he was excited to take over the estate. “But how does this affect me?”
“You’ll recall that Draco was worried that I would force him into a marriage, which is why he decided to marry you until he had full control of the estate,” Snape said, shrugging. “Now he has it, and there’s no reason for you two to carry on this farce.”
There was a moment of silence in which Ginny felt the floor dropping out from under her. “Oh,” she finally said, softly. “How nice.” She sat still a moment, collecting herself, then asked, “Have you told Draco yet?”
“Yes, and I explained that you two can now divorce whenever you should both feel so inclined. I believe he is presently visiting his friend James.” Severus stood and took the paper out of her hands. “I’m glad we had this chat, Ginevra. Please excuse me; I have a meeting at Hogwarts.” And then he Apparated away, leaving Ginny alone in the den.
Ginny sat very still after he was gone, sure her heart had stopped beating. It was over. She’d thought she’d have months left in which to convince Draco to love her, but her time with him was suddenly gone. She stared at the fire and wondered how everything could have gone wrong so fast.
How long she sat there she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that at some point in the midst of her meditation, one thought rose out of the swirling sea of emotions that battled inside her chest: tell him. It was her only chance now. And she believed- she hoped- there was a chance that he might not break her heart. They were so close now; surely he must feel something for her. Her mind made up, she resolutely stood and threw a pinch of Floo powder into the fire. “Elise and James Stewart,” she said clearly.
In a moment, Elise’s smiling face was visible in the flames. “Ginny!” she cried happily. “So good to see you! Are you looking for Draco?”
“Is he there?”
“You just missed him,” Elise said. “By the way, do you know what he’s so happy about?”
There was a long moment where Ginny froze, her breath catching in her throat, and she felt something in her chest twinge. “He was happy?” she asked, very quietly.
“Quite,” Elise replied. “He burst in here not five minutes ago, grinning like a Cheshire cat, and told James he wanted to buy him a drink. He invited me, of course, but with this baby coming . . .” She smiled fondly. “Anyway, they left for Diagon Alley not two minutes ago.”
Ginny looked slowly at the door the Severus had just exited through, then finally released the breath she didn’t realize she was still holding. She looked back at Elise’s form in the flames and suddenly found it very difficult to keep her face still. “So, Draco came over just a few minutes ago, grinning like a Cheshire cat, and told James he wanted to take him out for a drink?”
“Exactly,” Elise said.
Ginny made herself smile. She knew how forced it must look, but she also knew that if she didn’t force it, the tears forming behind her eyes and the lump forming in her throat would overwhelm her. “Thanks, Elise,” she said, fighting with everything she had to keep her smile from turning bitter. “That’s all I needed to know.”
Elise’s face vanished back into the flames, and Ginny fell back heavily on the sofa, the same sofa Draco had been lying on when they’d talked together that first night. That was it. It was really the end of their marriage. If the thought of no longer being married to her made him “grin like a Cheshire cat” and want to buy people drinks, then surely he felt nothing for her. No, he felt something for her: he despised her. He must, or why would he be so thrilled to have a chance to get away? She laid her head against the back of the sofa and began to cry.
It didn’t last long, however, as she was suddenly struck with the thought that she absolutely couldn’t be at the Manor when Draco got home. She couldn’t bear to face him when he told her he wanted her to move out. It would be far easier to leave, holding on to what dignity she could, before he could break her heart.
It didn’t take long to pack up her room, even without the house elves’ help; she didn’t think she could even face them. In a few minutes the nursery stood bare, holding no indications that she’d ever been there- except for her wedding ring, which she set on the dresser. Biting her lip, she Apparated down to the front hall, looking fondly around at the house that had become her home. Opening the front door, she ran her fingers down the molding around the door jamb as a goodbye. Then with a soft pop, she was gone.
. . . . . .
At the Leaky Cauldron, Draco was grinning like a Cheshire cat. His companion looked at him across the table a long moment, then asked, “All right, I’ll take the bait. What’s got you so pleased?”
Draco looked down at his drink, gathering his thoughts, then looked back up. “James,” he said slowly, “I think I’m in love.”
“Oh, no,” James said firmly, bringing his glass down hard onto the table. “You are not doing that to Ginny.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “I’m talking about Ginny.”
“Oh,” James said, somewhat taken aback. Then he added, “You’d think you’d have realized that before the wedding.”
“No, look-” Draco paused, wondering exactly how much to tell his friend. Ginny had made him swear never to tell anyone about the circumstances surrounding their wedding, but he wanted James to understand, and he wanted his advice. And his quiet friend would be very discreet, he knew. “You see . . . Ginny and I were never in love,” he said, looking down at his drink. “It was a marriage of convenience for both us. At the time we got married we both had . . . concerns, I suppose, that being married would solve. We’ve been lying to everyone for the past three months.”
“You two were really never in love?” But before Draco could answer, his friend was continuing. “Honestly, though, sometimes I wondered. You two were . . . distant, on occasion.”
Draco shrugged. “We’ve been lying to everyone,” he repeated, then looked past James’s head at the wall behind him. “But something changed and I really . . . I love her.”
He was as shocked by this revelation as James appeared to be by the truth about their marriage. He’d never thought that he’d fall for someone like Ginny Weasley. She was unrefined and unsophisticated. In school she’d been just an insignificant Gryffindor who fawned on Harry Potter, and during the war she’d been just another Order member who hated him. She didn’t understand anything about his world . . . but she understood everything about him. She’d stuck by his side through all of his insults and his insecurities and through revelations about his less-than-savory past, and somehow, through her loyalty and her forgiveness and her unfailing kindness, she’d made a place for herself in his heart.
James smiled sincerely. “I’m glad for you. Of course,” he added wryly, “I was glad for you when you got married. But now that I know you’re actually in love with your wife, I’m even more glad for you.” He paused. “Life’s better when someone’s there with you, I think,” he added, and from his faraway look Draco knew he was thinking about Elise.
“I think you’re right,” Draco said. “I’d never thought I’d want to settle down and dedicate my life to one person and be a family man, but now . . .” He gave his friend a lopsided smile. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, James.”
“Have you told her yet?”
“I’ve just now realized it myself.”
“Then what on earth are you doing here?” James demanded in good-natured exasperation. “Go home to your wife. Tell her you love her.”
“All right,” Draco smiled. “Thanks for hearing me out.”
“That’s what friends are for. Now go.”
Draco had always thought that the trouble with Apparation was that it got you places too quickly. Sometimes, walking was better because it gave you time to clear your head and think. So instead of Apparating straight home he went to the front gate and then meandered slowly up to the front door, trying to put his thoughts into order.
He wasn’t worried about what he was going to do. That had been perfectly clear from the moment Severus had told him about the deed: the moment he saw Ginny, he was going to kiss her. No, what he was worrying about was how she was going to react, especially since he wasn’t sure if Severus had gotten around to telling her about Draco’s taking over the Manor. Maybe, now that she didn’t have to stay, she’d want to leave. But he couldn’t believe that, and not just because he didn’t want to believe that. Things had been going so well. They were happy; she’d said that herself. And maybe she wasn’t in love with him, but she liked him; of that he was sure. And given that to work with, Draco felt that he could make her love him like he loved her. At the very least he had to try.
It really astounded him when he looked back on how he had changed. Once upon a time Ginny had insisted to him that marriage was something special, and he had said it was a joke. Then they’d married and Ginny had given up on convincing him that marriage was important, but now he decided that on his own. She would find that amusing. He smiled and quickened his step.
“Where’s Ginny?” he asked as he threw open the door.
Bernard was sitting on the stairs, which was very unusual for him. “I’ve been waiting for you, Master Draco,” he said.
“I’m touched,” Draco replied, amused. “Have you seen Ginny?”
“That’s why I’ve been waiting for you,” Bernard said. The house elf almost looked afraid, which was something Draco had never seen before. It seemed ominous, and he felt a sudden fear wash over him.
“Why? Did something happen? Is she all right?”
“She’s fine, sir,” Bernard said hesitantly. “It’s- she left.”
“Left?” Draco said, confused. “Left where?”
The house elf sighed. “Back to her parents, I presume.”
It was strange, some detached part of Draco reflected, that the room could be so still when he felt everything crumbling around him. He took refuge in that part of himself, and with the same detached interest walked calmly up the stairs to Ginny’s room.
It was empty, entirely devoid of any hint of the girl who’d slept there. Except- yes, there it was. Her ring was on the dresser. The sight of the glittering diamonds broke whatever spell he was under and brought him reeling back down to reality. She was gone. She was really gone. He turned around and around, staring at the bare dressers and shelves, and wondered how this could have happened. They’d been happy, hadn’t they? They’d been getting along, hadn’t they?
But then he remembered waking up earlier that afternoon to find his bed empty. How could he have not noticed that she was so eager to get away from him? He shook his head. How could he have not noticed that things had gotten so bad that she didn’t even stick around long enough to tell him goodbye?
Then he’d forget her, he decided. He’d been fine before she came to Malfoy Manor and he’d be fine with her gone. He found this anger very comforting and pulled it up around himself like a shield, then stalked toward his room.
His anger lasted until he reached his bed. Then he collapsed onto the sheets, and for the second time that day, Draco Malfoy cried.
. . . . . .
A man who does not lose his reason over certain things has none to lose. - Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
. . . . . .
Ginny Weasley was not the sort of person to blindly hope that everything was going to turn out all right. Perhaps she had been, once, but that was before her best friend had turned out to be Tom Riddle and she’d very nearly gotten herself and her fellow students killed as a result of his deception and betrayal. That had been hard for her, harder than most people knew. She had gotten over it, but the experience had changed her. She was still just as upbeat and outgoing as she had ever been, but she found it harder to trust other people, to trust herself, to trust in the general goodness of the world- which was why it was so surprising that she had started to hope that maybe things with Draco would work out after all.
He hadn’t declared his undying love for her yet, of course, and she still felt somewhat inferior when she reflected on the type of girl he had dated in his past- even Pansy Parkinson, ill-mannered and alcoholic, was well-bred and sophisticated- but Ginny felt she and Draco had been getting along very well of late. Maybe there was a chance that . . .
That what? she demanded of herself as her mind wandered down that path yet again the Thursday after the party. She tried very hard to ignore that thought, as she had been doing for two weeks now, but it persisted and she finally gave in and decided that maybe it would be wise after all to decide for herself what she wanted. She wanted Draco to return her love, that was sure, but how? Did she want a boyfriend? Or did she want him to tell her to forget the eighteen-month limit and stay with him forever? It was a question that made her pause. Did she really want to be married to Draco Malfoy for as long as they both should live? Did she want Draco Malfoy to father her children? Did she want to throw her lot in with him, to be Mrs. Malfoy for the rest of her life?
She was pondering all this from inside a heavy quilt on a chair on a balcony on the fourth floor. It had been a long day at work and she’d come out to watch the sunset and relax, bringing a quilt to fight off the chill still lingering from the afternoon’s rainstorm. With she and Draco being so close lately, Ginny might have dared to ask him to come sit with her, but he wasn’t there. Another business trip had come up, which was in some ways better and in many ways much worse. It was nice not to be in such a constant state of worry about what he was thinking about her and what he thought she was thinking about him, but on the other hand she missed him a great deal. And he wasn’t expected home until Sunday. If they ever did get married- or stay married, she amended to herself- she hoped he wouldn’t leave on business so much.
Of course, she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that he was in the habit of leaving so often on business; for as long as he’d been working at the Ministry, he hadn’t had anyone he was leaving behind. That was another disconcerting thought. He’d never had anyone depending on him before. Was she holding him back from things he really wanted to do? Did he resent her being there?
She was inclined to think not. After all, he did seem to get along with her quite well. Sometimes she thought that they were friends. He had even hugged her of his own volition at Ron and Hermione’s party. And people hugged their friends, didn’t they?
But did he want to be more than that? And did she want him to be more than that? She found herself fiddling absent-mindedly with her ring, and after a moment she pulled it off and looked at the back of her hand. There was a dent and a white line where the ring had been. She knew that if she stopped wearing it, the mark it had left would soon disappear. But she also knew that it would take much longer than that for her to forget the mark that this marriage to Draco had left on her.
She slipped her ring back on her finger. “This is what I want,” she said aloud, but softly, afraid someone would hear. And then she leaned her head back against the chair and sighed.
Wednesday was a holiday in the wizard world, a five hundred year-old celebration of the day that, according to legend, the wizards and witches of Britain abolished feudal rule and set up the Ministry of Magic. Ginny got ready for work that morning while enduring no end of ribbing from Draco, who didn’t have to work because the entire Ministry shut down for the holiday.
Ginny thought that was fairly silly to give every employee the day off, especially considering that the Death Eaters had taken advantage of the total emptiness of the building when they’d tried to take over the Ministry offices on that exact day several years earlier. But, she supposed, it wasn’t her concern, so she left for work after saying goodbye to Draco, who suddenly seemed somewhat subdued despite his earlier high spirits in teasing her.
Her curiosity over his sudden reticence plagued her all day. It was a very slow day at St. Mungo’s, and she had plenty of time to wonder.
“I guess England’s behaving herself today,” Glennis said, coming up behind Ginny in the break room.
Ginny nodded her agreement. It was one-thirty in the afternoon and they’d only had two emergency calls the entire day. “You’d think that with the holiday more people would be out doing things and getting themselves injured.”
“Oh, yes, I’d forgotten about the holiday,” Glennis said. “Not that many businesses close for it anymore.”
“Except the Ministry,” Ginny said, her mind still on Draco.
“Oh, so your husband is off for the day,” Glennis said. “How dreadful that you’re stuck here.” She took a moment to check her wristwatch and said, “You know, I’ve got two new trainees coming in at two. How about you show them around, and then take the rest of the day off?”
Ginny was only too ready to agree to such a plan, and by a quarter to three she was back at Malfoy Manor. As she opened the front door, she nearly knocked over the house elf who was on the other side, polishing the doorknob. “Sorry!” she cried as the elf steadied herself.
“It is not Mistress’s fault,” the elf squeaked, clearly not used to being addressed by the mistress. “Sully should not have been behind the door.”
“You didn’t know I was coming,” Ginny said reassuringly before the elf got the idea to start beating herself for being knocked over. “Say, have you seen Draco?”
The elf appeared to be thinking hard. “Sully heard Master was going to visit old Master and Mistress’s graves.”
“His parents?” Ginny asked. “In London?”
“Sully is not sure,” the elf said. “Bernard might know-”
“It’s all right,” Ginny said, not wanting to trouble the elf more than she already had. “Thank you.” It would make sense, after all- the thought of visiting his parents’ graves would explain his somber mood that morning, and besides, many people used the holiday as a sort of day of remembrance for their dead. And that meant that Draco was most likely in London, in the national wizarding graveyard in Croydon. At least, she knew that Narcissa was buried there.
She considered going to find him, but she felt sure that if Draco had wanted her there he would have asked her to come. He probably wanted this time to himself, and she was willing to let him have that.
What to do, then? She considered catching up on paperwork- or sleep- but then she thought of the wonderful weather outside and decided to explore the park behind the house. She’d only ever been where Draco had taken her, and she wanted to see more of the beautiful grounds. After changing out of her work robes, she walked out back, picked a path, and headed off into the park.
The day was warm, the scenery beautiful, and Ginny smiled contentedly as she walked. The manicured yard soon gave way to meadows, interrupted by an occasional copse of trees, though the real woods were around the edge of the land. The scene was so sylvan, so serenely rural, that she almost gasped in surprise when she came out of a clump of trees at the top of a small hill and saw, to her left and some distance away in the trees, a gate in a tall stone wall. She was sure she hadn’t reached the edge of the Malfoy property, so, curious, she left the path and walked toward it.
It was a cemetery, as it turned out, completely hidden from view of the house by a tall group of trees. That didn’t surprise Ginny; before the construction of the national cemetery in London, those rich enough to own land in the country had been buried behind their houses. She wasn’t normally the type to frequent cemeteries, but she was curious and didn’t have anything else to do, and she tried the gate. It was closed but not locked, and she slipped through, surprised that it didn’t squeak as she closed it behind her.
The cemetery was not large- at least, in comparison with the national cemetery, which was the only graveyard with which she was very familiar- and surrounded on all sides by the stone wall. Within the walls were dozens of graves, most of them quite impressive and flanked by statues. Looking around, she saw the dates on the headstones were all from the eighteenth century or before; the national cemetery had been built in 1805, she knew, so it seemed her guess about the cemetery’s use was correct. She moved among the trees and statues, quietly examining the graves and the unfamiliar names on them and feeling a strange sense of respect for these, her newly discovered Malfoy kin.
She was so absorbed in looking around that she didn’t notice Draco until she was nearly right on top of him. He was some twenty feet away, his back to her, looking at a grave whose headstone seemed significantly newer than the others she’d seen. He was so still, standing there with his hands clasped behind his back, that she suddenly felt that she’d walked into something she shouldn’t. So, holding her breath, she began slowly backing away.
“I already know you’re there, Ginny.”
Fighting back an embarrassed grimace but still glad to see Draco, she walked toward him. “Sorry to barge in on you like this,” she said. “The house elves said you’d gone to London.”
He didn’t look at her. “So you decided to take advantage of my absence to go poking around a graveyard?” His voice was strangely flat.
She chuckled and immediately felt strange doing it in such a somber setting. “Glennis let me leave work early and I decided to take a walk, but then I saw this and I wanted to know what it was, and . . . anyway, I really thought you were in London. The house elf said you were at your parents’ graves.”
Draco was silent. After a moment, Ginny dared another step forward to read the simple headstone Draco was looking at, and she was shocked to see that the name carved there was Lucius Malfoy. Based on the death date it was the anniversary of his passing, and Ginny bit her lip as she suddenly remembered that Lucius had been killed in the raid on the Ministry exactly two years ago.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I forgot, and when they said you were at the cemetery, I just assumed it was the one in London, because I thought your mum was buried there-”
“She is buried there,” Draco said, shortly and acrimoniously. He still hadn’t looked at her, and it was then that she realized that he was angry- although, it seemed, not at her.
She hadn’t seen him angry like this since their first day of marriage. She didn’t know if she should stay or flee and leave him with his grief. But she wanted to be there for him, if he needed her, so she asked, softly, “Why isn’t your father there, too?”
He finally looked at her, his smile false and laced with bitterness. “Didn’t you know? They don’t bury war criminals there. He and Mother bought that plot twenty years ago, and they always planned to be there together. But when I went to bury him the Ministry told me that they didn’t want him in their cemetery.”
“Did they let you have a funeral?”
“Of course. In fact, they let me use the Great Hall at Hogwarts. My father always was a favorite there.” And then he was staring down at the grave again, his moment of sarcastic anger over. “No, we just buried him. The house elves and I were the entire funeral party.” And then he stopped and pursed his lips together, as though he felt he’d said too much.
“No one else was there?” Ginny asked in shock.
“Snape was going to come, but then Voldemort summoned him,” Draco said, his voice once again flat. He was withdrawing, Ginny knew, hiding his emotions away from her in an attempt to maintain his illusion of confident carelessness. “The Death Eaters never cared much about taking time to bury their dead.”
“When was this?”
He didn’t respond until she repeated her question. And then, reluctantly, he said, “The day after the battle.”
“The day after,” Ginny repeated softly, her eyes widening. Things were beginning to fall into place, memories and events, and she had a feeling she knew more about that day than she’d originally thought. Draco looked away from her, a movement that Ginny recognized as a sign of discomfort, and she knew she was right. “The day back in the war, when you dragged me away from the Burrow and made me stand watch in your front hall all afternoon, you were out here burying your father.” She remembered that day only too well.
“There was no one else,” he said, and then winced as though he regretted speaking.
That struck her like a blow, the thought that he had once been so alone in the world that the only people he could find to help him with his father’s burial were the servants and an ill-tempered girl he had to coerce into helping. She thought of how she’d been so angry afterwards that she’d hit him, and her face burned with shame. “What about Elise or James?”
“Everyone still thought I was on the Continent. It had to be someone in the Order.” He sounded resigned, and Ginny knew that his brief moment of emotional openness was nearly over. If she didn’t keep him talking, she’d lose him back behind his usual facade.
“I was so angry with you for pulling me away from the party,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were doing?”
But apparently he was done talking. “Go back to the house, Ginny,” he said, his voice entirely flat, and she knew she’d lost this chance to see behind his mask.
“Draco, I’m sorry I hit you that day,” she tried again.
“Go home, Ginny,” he said, his voice still colorless but suddenly so firm that she was three steps toward the gate before she stopped herself. Her first inclination was to leave him alone, as he claimed to want, but then as she stopped and looked back at him, she had a sudden vision of him standing in that same spot two years earlier, looking down at a freshly dug grave, then, as now, very, very alone. She hadn’t done anything about it then- hadn’t known he was alone then, hadn’t loved him then- but now things were different. Without thinking it through any further, she marched the three steps back to Draco and grabbed his hand.
His response was so immediate it was almost comical- or would have been, in another situation. Draco immediately began trying to get away from her, pulling his arm away and swinging and twisting their joined hands in an attempt to extract his fingers from her firm grip. “Let go of me,” he said harshly.
“No.”
She hadn’t expected him to be so upset by her touch. As he kept flailing and telling her to let go, Ginny saw his expression become increasingly agitated, as though his mask was crumbling into pieces and allowing his real feelings to show through. She stood fast, her fingers clamped tight around his, though he was strong and it was hard to hold on to him.
“Ginny, let go,” he begged one last time, sounding desperate.
“Not until you talk to me, Draco.”
Then she saw, with sudden shock, that there were now tears running down his face. She was so surprised that she almost released his hand, but at that moment he stopped resisting her and stood stock still. “Don’t you get it?” he shouted through his tears. “I killed him. I killed my own father.”
She shook her head, surprised and confused. “You weren’t even there.”
“I was supposed to be there. I Apparated over with everyone else, but then I saw my father there and I couldn’t stand to face him. He still didn’t know I’d joined the Order. He thought I was hiding out on the Continent. I’d decided I’d rather have him think I was a coward than to know that I’d turned against him.”
“Draco-”
“Even when I was in the Order, it never occurred to me that he might die. He always managed to get out of everything. But I killed him.”
“The Order killed him,” Ginny said placatingly, inwardly wondering how Draco could think he’d killed his father when she knew for a fact that it was Ron and Hermione who had. “He was a casualty of war.”
Draco shook his head, and something in Ginny’s mind vaguely registered that at some point, she’d stopped squeezing his hand and it was now he who was gripping her hand as though she was the only thing anchoring him to the ground. “The Death Eaters were using a special defensive spell,” he choked out. “I told the Order how to get past it. If I hadn’t, they never could have killed him.” He looked at her desperately. “Who would do that to their own father?”
They were getting into dangerous waters. Ginny desperately wished that Dumbledore or even Remus Lupin were there instead of her. They would know what to say to comfort the suddenly unstable Draco Malfoy. He at least deserved that, instead of her clumsy words. “You did the right thing,” she said, because it was the one thing that made sense.
“How could that have possibly been the right thing?” Draco was no longer shouting or pulling away from her, but tears were still streaming down his face. “There have only ever been two people in the world who really loved me, and after one died I betrayed the other to join the Order. How could the right thing make me make him die?”
Three people, she thought sadly, and put her free hand on his free arm. “You didn’t make your father do anything,” she said firmly. “He followed Voldemort of his own free will and you were only reacting to that. It was a war. He had to have known that people die in wars and that by starting one, he was in danger. And you were only doing what felt right to you. That’s the only thing that you’re accountable for. You are not responsible for your father’s bad choices.”
He stared at her, wide-eyed, as though this was the first time he’d heard of such a thing. His shoulders were still shaking and he looked tired. She sighed and pulled out her wand, then slipped one arm around him. He didn’t protest as she Apparated away to the Manor. Ignoring the surprised looks of the house elves, she fetched him a glass of water from the kitchen, then Apparated again, this time up to his bedroom. “You should try to get some sleep, Draco.”
He obediently slipped off his shoes and robe and climbed under the covers, shaking his head when she offered him the water she’d gotten. She used her wand to extinguish the lights, then reached down to brush the hair out of his face. His eyes were closed and she thought she was already asleep, but suddenly he opened his eyes and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t go,” he whispered. She tried to pull away but his grip was tight and he was staring up at her pleadingly.
This is a bad idea, she told herself. It’s just because he’s upset, and when he’s feeling better he’ll forget about this and it will just hurt you. But as reasonable as this was, Ginny couldn’t abandon her Draco when he need her. So she set her wand on the bedside table and kicked off her shoes, Draco still grasping her hand, and then she climbed onto the bed and over the lump he made under the covers. “Because you always sleep on the right,” she whispered as she situated herself on the left side of the bed- on top of the covers, she told herself firmly. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips, and she scooted close to him and put the arm he still held around him. He relaxed into her embrace, his shoulders still shaking with the occasional hiccup. Soon his grip on her hand loosened and she knew he was asleep.
She lay there next to him for a few moments, torn as to what to do next. Part of her wanted to stay there with him, to see how he reacted when he awoke. But the more rational part of her was afraid that he would be upset that she was there, and after a brief internal struggle that rational side won. Moving carefully, she extracted her hand from his and slid off the other side of the bed, then collected her shoes and her wand and slipped into her own room, leaving Draco once again alone.
. . . . . .
It was highly inconvenient, Severus Snape reflected for not the first time, to be given stewardship of a place so far from Hogwarts. He visited Malfoy Manor at least once a week, and getting there required quite a bit of travel, what with the anti-Apparation spells at the school. What was even worse than going to Malfoy Manor once a week, however, was going twice a week, as he was forced to do that Wednesday afternoon. There was some business that needed taking care of, and Wednesday was the only evening of the entire week that suited him to leave the school. So, with a sigh, he wrapped his cloak around himself and began the journey to Malfoy Manor.
In truth, though, Severus didn’t mind the trips to Malfoy Manor nearly as much as he once had. Things had definitely improved in the last few months. Draco was much more open with him lately, much more patient and understanding, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why: it was all one Ginevra Weasley Malfoy. Which led to the second reason Severus no longer minded making trips to Malfoy Manor: he had recently taken to observing Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy and trying to gauge their feelings for each other.
It was certainly a strange pastime for the potions master. Severus had never had any interest in other people’s love lives before, but that was before Draco and Ginny. He had to admit, he had not been pleased to find out those two had wed, especially given the questionable circumstances around it. Since then, however, things had changed. Severus had seen the influence Ginny had on Draco, had seen the way she was able to handle him and his unpredictable emotions and his high-handed ways better than any of his earlier girlfriends. And soon after Severus had observed this, he’d found himself wishing that their marriage were not so temporary. And soon after that, he’d made up his mind that Draco ought not to let Ginny get away from him.
Of course it was highly unusual for a Weasley to join into the Malfoy line, but Ginny had proven that she could bear the Malfoy name with dignity. And Draco needed a wife. Severus wanted him to have someone to look after him, to keep him in line, to mother his heir. Most of all, though Severus would have eaten wolfsbane rather than admit it, he wanted his young friend to be happy. And although Ginny and Draco were a strange pair, since their wedding Draco had been happier than Severus had seen him in years. Yes, it was time that Draco settled down, and the perfect woman was already wearing his ring. The only question left, the one that Severus had been ruminating on for some time, was how to get Draco to realize this.
He was still thinking about it when he arrived at Malfoy Manor and rang the bell. Bernard the house elf showed him in with exquisite correctness, then spoke apologetically. Severus decided that it was a sign of how familiar he was becoming at the Manor, that the house elf dared to offer his opinions. “I’m not sure Master Draco is entirely up to callers today, Master Snape. Today is, as you may recall, the anniversary of Master Lucius’s death, and Master Draco spent the day visiting his parents’ graves.”
“Where is he now?” Severus asked resignedly. He’d completely forgotten that it was the day Lucius had died, and he was sure that Draco was in no fit state to do business- he took Lucius’s death very hard. It appeared that the trip from Hogwarts had been in vain.
“He is up in his room. But I believe he’s fine now. Mistress Ginny was with him.”
Severus raised his eyebrows in sudden surprise. “What do you mean, with him?” The house elves knew of Draco and Ginny’s sleeping arrangements, but he wasn’t sure if they realized that they were unusual. Still, Bernard would know if Ginny had been in Draco’s room instead of in her own.
Bernard seemed aback by Severus’s sudden interest. “They were out in the family plot together and she helped him back inside. He was crying, and she Apparated with him up to his room.” House elves were very powerful, Severus knew, and he wasn’t surprised that Bernard could sense where his master and mistress had Apparated to.
“Are they still there?” he asked.
“No. I went to ask him a question and he was asleep and she was in her own room. Will there be anything else, Master Snape?”
“No, I’m fine,” Severus said distractedly. “I’ll try back another day.” He let himself out and Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron, deep in thought. Perhaps Ginny and Draco were even closer than he’d thought. But if Ginny was still in her own room, then perhaps he was misreading the situation. Or perhaps, he decided finally, they were closer than he’d thought, but they hadn’t been able to admit it, to themselves or anyone else.
And that, he decided, was not acceptable. Something needed to be done to convince Draco he didn’t want to lose Ginny. Severus didn’t want Draco to waste any time producing an heir or running Malfoy Manor the way he was always meant to do.
And then the idea hit him, clear and simple and concise. Severus looked up at the clock. It was just before five, so if he hurried he could probably reach the office of the Malfoys’ lawyer before he left for the day. And then, with any luck, Draco and Ginny’s marriage could be sorted out by dinner. A self-satisfied smirk crossed Severus’s face, and he signaled to the bartender that he was done.
The Malfoys’ lawyer, an imposing man named Stirling, was quite surprised by Severus’s request. After examining Lucius’s will, however, he agreed that Severus was well within his rights. He wrote out a document detailing the changes Severus wanted to implement and then they both Apparated to the Wiltshire county government offices. It was closed for the holiday, but Severus had connections with people in the county, and a few calls on the Floo Network got a notary there. While the notary watched, Severus and Mr. Stirling signed the paper. A quick spell made two more copies of the paper; one was filed in the offices there, Mr. Stirling took one with him back to his own offices, and Severus took the last and Apparated to Malfoy Manor.
It was a six-thirty by then, which meant the Malfoys were probably eating dinner. Severus was an old friend, however, so he unhesitatingly knocked on the door. Unfortunately, when Bernard answered it, it was only to tell Severus that Draco was still asleep and Ginny had gone to dinner at her parents’ house. Biting back a curse, Severus decided to wake Draco up and then go find Ginny. He would have waited for Ginny to come home, but there was a summer staff meeting at Hogwarts at seven-thirty that he was required to attend.
When he Apparated up to Draco’s room, the popping sound that heralded his arrival woke the young Lord Malfoy with a start. He blinked blearily, and then suddenly his eyes widened and he turned to look at the other side of the bed. It was empty, of course, and somehow that made Draco look disappointed.
It wasn’t until he’d sat up and stretched that he noticed Severus standing in his room. “I know you miss me when you’re away, Severus,” he said, his voice still thick with sleep, “but this is just going too far.”
“Hilarious,” Severus said dryly. “I’m here on business, and I decided you’d been sleeping long enough. Since when do you sleep during the middle of the day?” As expected, that made Draco suddenly look uncomfortable. “Never mind,” Severus said. “Come sit down.”
Draco obediently got out of bed and sat at the large oaken table in the corner of his very large suite. Severus sat across from him and clasped his hands. “I’ve been thinking about this setup we have,” he began, “and I don’t like it. I’m always glad to help your family out, but you don’t inherit the estate fully for another fifteen months, and acting as estate steward for the last two years has taken up a great deal of my time and cut into my teaching career.”
“I’m sorry,” Draco said, sounding mildly confused. “What are you saying, then?”
“You’ve learned a lot over the last few months. I think you’re ready to run Malfoy Manor by yourself.” He took out the paper and set it in front of Draco. “I had Stirling write this up. It turns the Manor over entirely to you, effective immediately.”
Draco’s eyes widened and he set to examining the paper. “Entirely to me?”
“I’ll always be available if you need any help,” Severus went on as Draco read over the deed. “Or I’m sure that Zabini or Stewart would be willing to assist. But I think it’s about time you took on the responsibility. I think you’re ready.”
Draco looked up at him, his lips curving into a smile. Severus knew that he’d been wanting to run the Manor by himself, as his father and his grandfather and his great-grandfather had done- it was a matter of pride. “Thank you, Severus,” he said sincerely, then returned to reading.
Severus smiled. It was time to drop the bomb. “And what’s even better,” he said in his best cold-hearted git voice, “is that now no one has any leverage to force you into marriage, and you don’t have to stay in this one. You can drop that Muggle-loving Weasley girl right this moment, if you want.”
Even with Draco looking down at the tabletop, Severus could see his brow furrow. Then the young man slowly looked up at his old teacher, his expression somewhat confused and concerned.
“Just a thought,” Severus said.
“Oh,” said Draco, a thousand different emotions running over his face. “I- uh, I-” And he trailed off.
Severus, who had rarely seen his young friend at a loss for words, carefully hid a smile. “I understand Ginny is visiting her parents tonight.”
“Oh. I . . . Are you going to tell her?”
To say yes would seem strange- if it had really just been Manor business, it wouldn’t have concerned Ginny- so Severus shrugged nonchalantly. “She’s not home, and I don’t really want to wait. But maybe I’ll stop by the Burrow.”
Draco nodded again, still looking confused. Then he stood. “I think- I think I’m going to go see James.” He walked back to his bed and slipped on his robes and shoes. “I’ll talk to you later, Severus. Thank you again.” And then a smile slipped onto his face. “And I’ll- I’ll talk to Ginny.” And then he Apparated away.
Severus smirked, feeling very pleased with himself, and collected the deed off the table. He strolled out of the room and down the stairs at a leisurely pace, wondering whether to go to the Burrow now or wait until Ginny came home. It was only a quarter to seven, and he decided that as long as he left within a half-hour, he’d have time to get back to Hogwarts. With another self-satisfied smile, he sat down in the den to wait.
. . . . . .
It was ten to seven when Ginny left her parents’ house. Normally she would have stayed longer, but her curiosity was killing her. She wondered if Draco was awake yet, what he’d thought about her leaving his bed, if he even remembered that she’d stayed. And so, when the wondering finally got to be too much for her to stand, she bid her parents good night and Apparated home.
She was about to walk upstairs when she saw firelight flickering out of the den. The fire only burned when someone was in the room, so Draco had to be in there. Taking a deep breath and smoothing down her hair with her hands, she walked into the den . . .
. . . and saw Severus Snape. “Professor Snape,” she said, fighting back her disappointment. “What a surprise.”
“Mrs. Malfoy,” her old professor replied. “Charming to see you.”
“Are you here for Draco?”
“And you,” he replied. “Have a seat, Ginevra.”
She obediently sat down. “What can I do for you?”
“I have some news that might interest you,” he said. “You know I’ve always been opposed to the way Draco forced you into this marriage, but we now have the means of remedying it.”
“What do you mean?” Ginny asked, fighting back a sudden panic.
“It’s been very hard for me to travel back and forth between Malfoy Manor and Hogwarts every week,” he explained. “I know Lucius wanted me to help Draco out as he learned how to run the estate, but Draco has picked up on it much quicker than expected. I think he’s ready to take full control.” He produced the paper. “This relinquishes my power as temporary steward. Malfoy Manor is now Draco’s.”
“He’ll be happy to hear that,” Ginny said softly. Draco had told her before that he was excited to take over the estate. “But how does this affect me?”
“You’ll recall that Draco was worried that I would force him into a marriage, which is why he decided to marry you until he had full control of the estate,” Snape said, shrugging. “Now he has it, and there’s no reason for you two to carry on this farce.”
There was a moment of silence in which Ginny felt the floor dropping out from under her. “Oh,” she finally said, softly. “How nice.” She sat still a moment, collecting herself, then asked, “Have you told Draco yet?”
“Yes, and I explained that you two can now divorce whenever you should both feel so inclined. I believe he is presently visiting his friend James.” Severus stood and took the paper out of her hands. “I’m glad we had this chat, Ginevra. Please excuse me; I have a meeting at Hogwarts.” And then he Apparated away, leaving Ginny alone in the den.
Ginny sat very still after he was gone, sure her heart had stopped beating. It was over. She’d thought she’d have months left in which to convince Draco to love her, but her time with him was suddenly gone. She stared at the fire and wondered how everything could have gone wrong so fast.
How long she sat there she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that at some point in the midst of her meditation, one thought rose out of the swirling sea of emotions that battled inside her chest: tell him. It was her only chance now. And she believed- she hoped- there was a chance that he might not break her heart. They were so close now; surely he must feel something for her. Her mind made up, she resolutely stood and threw a pinch of Floo powder into the fire. “Elise and James Stewart,” she said clearly.
In a moment, Elise’s smiling face was visible in the flames. “Ginny!” she cried happily. “So good to see you! Are you looking for Draco?”
“Is he there?”
“You just missed him,” Elise said. “By the way, do you know what he’s so happy about?”
There was a long moment where Ginny froze, her breath catching in her throat, and she felt something in her chest twinge. “He was happy?” she asked, very quietly.
“Quite,” Elise replied. “He burst in here not five minutes ago, grinning like a Cheshire cat, and told James he wanted to buy him a drink. He invited me, of course, but with this baby coming . . .” She smiled fondly. “Anyway, they left for Diagon Alley not two minutes ago.”
Ginny looked slowly at the door the Severus had just exited through, then finally released the breath she didn’t realize she was still holding. She looked back at Elise’s form in the flames and suddenly found it very difficult to keep her face still. “So, Draco came over just a few minutes ago, grinning like a Cheshire cat, and told James he wanted to take him out for a drink?”
“Exactly,” Elise said.
Ginny made herself smile. She knew how forced it must look, but she also knew that if she didn’t force it, the tears forming behind her eyes and the lump forming in her throat would overwhelm her. “Thanks, Elise,” she said, fighting with everything she had to keep her smile from turning bitter. “That’s all I needed to know.”
Elise’s face vanished back into the flames, and Ginny fell back heavily on the sofa, the same sofa Draco had been lying on when they’d talked together that first night. That was it. It was really the end of their marriage. If the thought of no longer being married to her made him “grin like a Cheshire cat” and want to buy people drinks, then surely he felt nothing for her. No, he felt something for her: he despised her. He must, or why would he be so thrilled to have a chance to get away? She laid her head against the back of the sofa and began to cry.
It didn’t last long, however, as she was suddenly struck with the thought that she absolutely couldn’t be at the Manor when Draco got home. She couldn’t bear to face him when he told her he wanted her to move out. It would be far easier to leave, holding on to what dignity she could, before he could break her heart.
It didn’t take long to pack up her room, even without the house elves’ help; she didn’t think she could even face them. In a few minutes the nursery stood bare, holding no indications that she’d ever been there- except for her wedding ring, which she set on the dresser. Biting her lip, she Apparated down to the front hall, looking fondly around at the house that had become her home. Opening the front door, she ran her fingers down the molding around the door jamb as a goodbye. Then with a soft pop, she was gone.
. . . . . .
At the Leaky Cauldron, Draco was grinning like a Cheshire cat. His companion looked at him across the table a long moment, then asked, “All right, I’ll take the bait. What’s got you so pleased?”
Draco looked down at his drink, gathering his thoughts, then looked back up. “James,” he said slowly, “I think I’m in love.”
“Oh, no,” James said firmly, bringing his glass down hard onto the table. “You are not doing that to Ginny.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “I’m talking about Ginny.”
“Oh,” James said, somewhat taken aback. Then he added, “You’d think you’d have realized that before the wedding.”
“No, look-” Draco paused, wondering exactly how much to tell his friend. Ginny had made him swear never to tell anyone about the circumstances surrounding their wedding, but he wanted James to understand, and he wanted his advice. And his quiet friend would be very discreet, he knew. “You see . . . Ginny and I were never in love,” he said, looking down at his drink. “It was a marriage of convenience for both us. At the time we got married we both had . . . concerns, I suppose, that being married would solve. We’ve been lying to everyone for the past three months.”
“You two were really never in love?” But before Draco could answer, his friend was continuing. “Honestly, though, sometimes I wondered. You two were . . . distant, on occasion.”
Draco shrugged. “We’ve been lying to everyone,” he repeated, then looked past James’s head at the wall behind him. “But something changed and I really . . . I love her.”
He was as shocked by this revelation as James appeared to be by the truth about their marriage. He’d never thought that he’d fall for someone like Ginny Weasley. She was unrefined and unsophisticated. In school she’d been just an insignificant Gryffindor who fawned on Harry Potter, and during the war she’d been just another Order member who hated him. She didn’t understand anything about his world . . . but she understood everything about him. She’d stuck by his side through all of his insults and his insecurities and through revelations about his less-than-savory past, and somehow, through her loyalty and her forgiveness and her unfailing kindness, she’d made a place for herself in his heart.
James smiled sincerely. “I’m glad for you. Of course,” he added wryly, “I was glad for you when you got married. But now that I know you’re actually in love with your wife, I’m even more glad for you.” He paused. “Life’s better when someone’s there with you, I think,” he added, and from his faraway look Draco knew he was thinking about Elise.
“I think you’re right,” Draco said. “I’d never thought I’d want to settle down and dedicate my life to one person and be a family man, but now . . .” He gave his friend a lopsided smile. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, James.”
“Have you told her yet?”
“I’ve just now realized it myself.”
“Then what on earth are you doing here?” James demanded in good-natured exasperation. “Go home to your wife. Tell her you love her.”
“All right,” Draco smiled. “Thanks for hearing me out.”
“That’s what friends are for. Now go.”
Draco had always thought that the trouble with Apparation was that it got you places too quickly. Sometimes, walking was better because it gave you time to clear your head and think. So instead of Apparating straight home he went to the front gate and then meandered slowly up to the front door, trying to put his thoughts into order.
He wasn’t worried about what he was going to do. That had been perfectly clear from the moment Severus had told him about the deed: the moment he saw Ginny, he was going to kiss her. No, what he was worrying about was how she was going to react, especially since he wasn’t sure if Severus had gotten around to telling her about Draco’s taking over the Manor. Maybe, now that she didn’t have to stay, she’d want to leave. But he couldn’t believe that, and not just because he didn’t want to believe that. Things had been going so well. They were happy; she’d said that herself. And maybe she wasn’t in love with him, but she liked him; of that he was sure. And given that to work with, Draco felt that he could make her love him like he loved her. At the very least he had to try.
It really astounded him when he looked back on how he had changed. Once upon a time Ginny had insisted to him that marriage was something special, and he had said it was a joke. Then they’d married and Ginny had given up on convincing him that marriage was important, but now he decided that on his own. She would find that amusing. He smiled and quickened his step.
“Where’s Ginny?” he asked as he threw open the door.
Bernard was sitting on the stairs, which was very unusual for him. “I’ve been waiting for you, Master Draco,” he said.
“I’m touched,” Draco replied, amused. “Have you seen Ginny?”
“That’s why I’ve been waiting for you,” Bernard said. The house elf almost looked afraid, which was something Draco had never seen before. It seemed ominous, and he felt a sudden fear wash over him.
“Why? Did something happen? Is she all right?”
“She’s fine, sir,” Bernard said hesitantly. “It’s- she left.”
“Left?” Draco said, confused. “Left where?”
The house elf sighed. “Back to her parents, I presume.”
It was strange, some detached part of Draco reflected, that the room could be so still when he felt everything crumbling around him. He took refuge in that part of himself, and with the same detached interest walked calmly up the stairs to Ginny’s room.
It was empty, entirely devoid of any hint of the girl who’d slept there. Except- yes, there it was. Her ring was on the dresser. The sight of the glittering diamonds broke whatever spell he was under and brought him reeling back down to reality. She was gone. She was really gone. He turned around and around, staring at the bare dressers and shelves, and wondered how this could have happened. They’d been happy, hadn’t they? They’d been getting along, hadn’t they?
But then he remembered waking up earlier that afternoon to find his bed empty. How could he have not noticed that she was so eager to get away from him? He shook his head. How could he have not noticed that things had gotten so bad that she didn’t even stick around long enough to tell him goodbye?
Then he’d forget her, he decided. He’d been fine before she came to Malfoy Manor and he’d be fine with her gone. He found this anger very comforting and pulled it up around himself like a shield, then stalked toward his room.
His anger lasted until he reached his bed. Then he collapsed onto the sheets, and for the second time that day, Draco Malfoy cried.
. . . . . .
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