God that was strange to see you again
Introduced by a friend of a friend
Smiled and said 'yes I think we've met before'
In that instant it started to pour

The members of the wizarding elite were dressed to the nines, forgetting for the night the worries that their hallowed, worn looking faces betrayed. They were there to celebrate success, not to mourn the losses that had followed the end of the war. Who better to exemplify the hope of a new future than the Weasley family, whose members had worked so hard to capture the last of the Death Eaters and take them to trial? Even Harry Potter himself had come to this social event, to support the family that had taken him in from the start and loved him regardless of the danger he placed them in. Fred and George Weasley were taking their business to the international level, spreading mischief and havoc to the world via Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes; it was most definitely an occasion for celebration. Their financial success in the two years since the war’s end had left them looking for new ways to spend their freshly earned money. Their profits had sky-rocketed without the burden of worry caused by the Dark Lord and his followers. New ideas had blossomed… and the Weasleys had always been a progressive family, ahead of their time… what better way to kick off the rebuilding of the wizarding world than by uniting in business with the son of an infamous Death Eater?

Captured a taxi despite all the rain
We drove in silence across pont champlain
And all of the time you thought I was sad
I was trying to remember your name...

Ginny Weasley scanned the room from her vantage point at the bar. Everyone looked so cheerful, so much healthier than they had. The cheeks of her brothers were rosy, their eyes bright again. She allowed herself a guarded smile; it had been so long since they were all together, all whole, all happy. Well, mostly whole anyway.

“Gin!”

A beaming Mageara Shacklebolt was calling her from nearby. Mageara had worked with her at St. Mungo’s when the war was at its peak. Ginny walked toward her, happy to see her friend in such high spirits, and so clearly enjoying the party. The two women embraced, their champagne-filled glasses clinking. As Ginny pulled out of the embrace, she saw him. He stood a few feet away from Mageara, sipping his own champagne and coolly observing the celebrating wizards and witches. Mageara caught the involuntary spark in her friend’s demeanor and followed the glance Ginny threw to the man nearby. Recognizing him, Mageara took hold of Ginny’s hands and led her toward him.

He hadn’t changed much, to look at him. He still held himself the same way, head erect and proud, bowing to no man. His broad shoulders were thrown back, the strength in them evident, though his dark, emerald robes covered them. And his chest… Ginny could remember tracing the muscles outlined there. She kept herself from continuing her rapid exploration down his body, pulling her eyes back to his face. But she couldn’t look at those eyes. Those eyes that knew exactly what she was thinking, piercing her mind, her heart. Instead, she’d focus on his hair. He’d styled it differently then, all slicked back, tightly under control. Now it had grown out some, brushing his ears, some of it hanging near those eyes, those silver eyes…

“Draco, darling!” Mageara placed her hand on Draco’s forearm. He smiled, the corners of his mouth curling upwards slightly, almost grimly.

“Mageara.”

Ginny tried desperately to keep her eyes from making contact with his. She was studiously examining the area to the left of his face, but Mageara could feel her discomfort, and took it for something quite different.

“Ginny, I don’t believe you’ve met Mr. Draco Malfoy. You must have attended Hogwarts together, but you don’t seem to know each other. And two such excellent people must meet each other!”

Mageara grinned cheekily, her eyes bright, dancing in the light of the chandeliers.

“Miss. Weasley.”

Draco’s hand extended towards her, slowly, cordially. She reached out her own tiny, freckled hand, finally allowing the inevitable. His quicksilver eyes locked on her wide, chocolate brown ones as they firmly shook hands.

“Mr. Malfoy.”

This scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin
Tried to reach deep but you couldn't get in
Now you're outside me
You see all the beauty
Repent all your sin

Quickly realizing that perhaps the couple were acquainted after all, Mageara disappeared on the arm of Colin Creevey, star photographer of the reformed Daily Prophet.

Their eyes met and held together, as the world around them melted away and became unimportant. He’d never forgotten those eyes. In them he’d seen the world, reflected as it could have been… could even still be? She’d been so happy then. He had made her happy. Those eyes had danced, the specks of gold coming through, contrasting with his own silver eyes… he missed her.

“It’s been a long time, Ginevra,” his voice careful, without emotion, his features schooled to betray no sentiment, whatsoever. And yet…

“Indeed, it has, Draco,” her eyes keeping in contact with his, as she sipped her champagne.

Goddammit. She knew him better than to fall for his façade. She knew he really wanted to talk to her. How did she know? She always knew, he answered himself. Those eyes sensed his discomfort. He watched the corners of her mouth drift upward.

“Perhaps we should sit down,” she inclined her head towards a fairly secluded table toward the back of the restaurant.

He inclined his arm to her in answer. As she took it, he couldn’t fail to notice the goosebumps that rose from her skin. Perhaps the years hadn’t changed her so much after all… he could only hope.

It's nothing but time and a face that you lose
I chose to feel it and you couldn't chose
I'll write you a postcard
I'll send you the news
From a house down the road from real love...

She’d wanted him so much, he’d wanted her too. They’d been in love. She knew it was love. Nothing less could have done that to her, made her forget her worry, her fears for her brothers, her own concern for their vastly different backgrounds…

But then the war had reached its peak, and he’d disappeared, left her without a note, without an explanation; he was simply gone. She’d waited for him, she’d never stopped looking for that ash colored hair. After she’d begun at St.Mungo’s she thought she saw him at every turn of the hall. When the casualties poured in from the battles, she’d see that white-gold glint in her mind’s eye before she’d notice the flaming red hair of her family right in front of her. But she’d never seen him, not once…

Live through this, and you won't look back...
Live through this, and you won't look back...
Live through this, and you won't look back...

There she was, in front of him. How he’d longed to go looking for her, wanted to reassure that he was alive, that he loved her; he loved her so much. He caught a glimpse of those beautiful brown eyes as she glanced toward the rest of the guests. He knew she’d heard of what happened. He guessed she’d found out at some point. His betrayal of his father, his own flesh and blood, for what he could no longer deny.

The Dark Lord might never have had a chance in winning the war; but with the betrayal of the Malfoy heir, his passage downward was significantly swifter. Draco Malfoy’s work as a double agent played a great role in bringing the war to an end. It was even rumored that it was Draco that had covered Harry Potter’s back as he killed the Dark Lord, ending the fight once and for all.

As Draco gazed at her, he could feel his hands gripping the champagne glass more tightly; did she know what had caused him to turn sides? Surely she must have some idea? Did she think he would have left her, all alone, for nothing?

There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave
You were what I wanted
I gave what I gave
I'm not sorry I met you
I'm not sorry it's over
I'm not sorry there's nothing to say

”Gin…” His voiced was no longer as controlled as it had been. They’d sat stiffly, refusing to look at one another in the eye. The small talk had lasted for the last hour. He was fine, she was fine, her family was okay, his business was doing well, her job as a healer at St.Mungo’s made her happy. They’d faded into silence once they had run the bases considered polite conversation.

She looked at him, trying to hide the emotions evident in her wide brown eyes.

“Gin, I didn’t mean to leave you…”

Tears rushed to her eyes. She could feel them gathering, her throat tightening, her face growing warm and flushed. She knew her ears had turned pink and that her freckles were standing out most horribly.

“But you DID. I waited for you, Draco! I couldn’t sleep at night, ever. I didn’t know where you were, I didn’t know what I had done to make you leave me. I couldn’t figure out why. Why did you leave me there? You could have told me something, anything. But you just left me. When it was over you didn’t come back to me. You left me.” She’d let her self go, let the tears run, let her burning brown eyes meet his cool mercurial gaze. But she’d come full circle, realizing at the end that he had left her. Finally admitting to herself that he did not want her. That had to be it. All this time, she’d hoped it was something else, something he had been unable to avoid. But no, she knew it now; he didn’t love her, not like she loved him. He’d left, thinking that was the best way to end it.

“Gin…” She could hear him begin. She needed no explanation. She gathered herself together, slipping out of the booth, threading her way silently through the crowd, drawing little attention to herself. She’d just get out into Diagon Alley, get to an Apparation point, go home. She’d had enough for one night.

I'm not sorry there's nothing to say...

This was not going the way he wanted. She’d misunderstood him completely, she hadn’t realized what he thought was obvious. Oh, good Merlin, she thought he’d left her because he didn’t want her. She thought, oh gods, that he didn’t love her, that he’d run out? Everything he’d done for the past five years had been for her. He’d joined the side of Harry Potter for her. He’d fought Voldemort so that she could be safe. He’d wanted to make something of himself when he came looking for her. He hadn’t meant for her to be alone, so alone…

He forgot decorum, chasing after her, threading his was through the throng of people in the restaurant, following her red head through the witches and wizards of Diagon Alley. He finally caught her, just as she was about to leave from the apparition point.

“Gin…” He caught her arm. Her gaze turned to him; the immense anger, sadness, and weariness in her eyes completely unguarded as she glared at him. But was there something else there as well?

“What do you want, Malfoy?” She demanded of him, rage evident in her voice.

“I love you. I never wanted to leave you. I joined Potter for you, to let you know I loved you enough to do what you knew was right; what I could barely admit to myself was right. I didn’t want them to hurt you when they found what I’d done, I didn’t want them to know I loved you. They would have come looking for you if they knew I loved you, knew they could use you to get to me. I’ve spent the last two years in hiding and in rebuilding my family’s empire. I wasn’t going to come back to you empt-handed, Gin. Gods, Gin, I’m sorry. I never wanted you to be alone. I’ve loved you for so long.”

His hand reached up, wishing to cup her face. Instead, he let it fall, not wanting to risk doing something more to make her angry. He couldn’t bring his eyes to meet her face… until she spoke.

“You… love me?” Her eyes shown with hope now, still reflecting an inner battle within her.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He cupped her face with his hands.

“Oh Gin, I always have.”

He kissed her then. His lips covering hers, pressing together. She let herself collapse then, let her self fall into his arms. He pulled her into him, supporting her slight weight, and drowning out the rest of the world as things came to close, beginning again as though they had never ended.
The End.
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