The Leaky Cauldron hadn’t changed much, even through the war. Tom still bowed to them from behind the counter as they passed. Belatedly, Draco realized the bow was likely not for him, but for his companion.

“What exactly are you stocking up on?” Draco asked. “I should have been more specific before blindly volunteering my services. I don’t know how much of your mischief I can keep at bay.”

Ginny grinned broadly. She looked smashing, cheeks flushed from the crisp autumn wind, and red hair glittering in the sunlight. “A little of everything, really. Tell me, is your mother opposed to animals? I was thinking of getting a fire crab.”

Now he knew she was joking. “Don’t make me regret calling you a good houseguest.”

“But I thought you had to save me from my idea of human dignity?”

“If your idea of human dignity includes a fire crab, I’ll save you from that too.”

Jokingly, she frowned in concentration. “Hmm, I guess getting a new broom can wait. My dignity requires new coats, a few dresses, all my shoes were destroyed--”

Grabbing her arm, Draco practically dragged her toward Quality Quidditch Supplies. “You lost me at broom.”

Laughing, Ginny willingly let Draco pull her along. “You don’t plan to discourage my unladylike obsession with Quidditch?”

He looked back at her with a smirk. “I plan on feeding it until it’s as monstrous as my own.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him as he opened the door for her. “I should race you in a track you don’t own, Malfoy. Then we’ll see whose obsession is monstrous.”

Draco chuckled as she walked in. “You’re on, Weasley.”

Once inside, Ginny paused to soak in all the wonderful smells and sights. Newly oiled leather, bludgers bouncing threateningly in their cages, and, best of all: the display of brooms. She collected the required goods and equipment, including the still excellent Nimbus 2000.

“What, only Chaser gear?” Draco asked. “I thought you used to be a Seeker for a while.”

She shrugged. “Anything to get on the team, but I’ve always been a Chaser.”

“Seeker isn’t just anything,” Draco scoffed. “It’s the most important position!”

Shaking her head at him fondly, she paid for the expensive gear and broom with a wince, ordering it delivered to the Burrow.

“You’ll pick it up from there, I’m assuming?” Draco asked her as they left.

She nodded. “ ‘Undisclosed location’ wouldn’t work too well if all my packages are delivered to your front doorstep.”

He chuckled. “No, it would not.”

As they entered Flourish and Blotts, Draco spotted a lone Monster Book of Monsters struggling against the metal clasps binding it shut. “Merlin, I hated that class.”

“Come on,” Ginny grinned. “Anything that tried to rip a chunk out of you can’t be all bad.”

“Stop wasting time insulting me and hurry up, Weasley,” Draco growled amiably. “We don’t have all day. What do you need here?”

She shrugged. “Nothing specific, really. I just feel more homeless than anything without my books.”

As they browsed, Draco realized he was willingly running errands, a task he usually loathed. Not only willingly, but enjoying it.

The sole cause of his enjoyment rifled through the books stacked in front of her. “Look at this,” Ginny pulled out a copy of Magical Me by Gilderoy Lockhart, holding it gingerly by a corner as if fending off its disease. “I can’t believe they still have these around. I wonder why Dumbledore thought Lockhart would be able to teach us anything other than his favorite color.”

Draco nodded blankly at her, his brain still trying to process the new information. He found her attractive and volunteered to do things he hated to spend time with her…

Ginny’s brow creased with worry. “I just insulted Dumbledore and you didn’t respond. Are you feeling alright?”

Feeling the heat rush to his cheeks, Draco shook his head violently. “I think I need to sit down,” he managed weakly.

Ginny led him to a small bench in the corner. Sitting next to him, she pressed her hand against his forehead, staring intently at his face. “You seem a little warm. What’s wrong?”

“I’m probably fine,” he lied, intimately aware of the brush of her fingers against his skin. “Just had a momentary…” He racked his brain, trying to think of a manly-sounding ailment. “...dizzy spell?” And failing utterly.

She smirked at him. “How’s that tough Malfoy constitution doing for you?”

“It’s doing fine, thank you,” he gritted out, forcibly regaining his composure. “Come on, let’s get your books and go.”

A few wizards gave them odd looks as they stood in line, but Draco ignored them. He’d had worse. Mainly, his mind was preoccupied with the fiery redhead next to him, seemingly enjoying his presence as much as he did hers.

About to walk out with her purchases, Ginny stopped in the entryway, laughing to herself. “And here’s where we met!” She turned to Draco, smirking. “I believe you insulted my family and called me Harry’s girlfriend.”

"A gentleman like myself would never utter such foul things," Draco replied. "I don't know about your family, but you with Scarhead is flat-out repulsive."

Ginny smiled. He could tell as a bad thought hit her, and her light-hearted mood vanished. "Did you know that your father slipped me Tom Riddle's diary?"

Draco had completely forgotten. "I had no idea at the time," he replied quietly. "Although I wasn't upset when I found out."

He had no idea what spurred him to be so honest, but she seemed to appreciate it. "Worst memories of my life started right here," she added softly.

Draco gingerly put his arm around her, hand resting lightly on the small of her back. She didn't freak out or hex him, so it seemed to be alright. "Let's go make better ones then. I'll treat you to some ice cream?"

She leaned into him and his heart nearly exploded. Smiling softly, she said, "That sounds delightful."

Draco ate his ice cream slowly, savoring the moment, and trying to decide what to do about his Ginny problem.

The girl in question smirked at him from across the table. “You have ice cream on your nose.”

He scrubbed furiously at it. She giggled at his attempts.

"What else do you need to get today?" Draco asked her.

Ginny shrugged, cone held lazily in her hand. "I need to stop by Madame Malkin's for new Auror's robes. Don't panic, I already know my size! I shouldn't take long." Draco chuckled at that. With a mischievous grin, she added, "And then I hoped to show you Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. I'm assuming you haven't been?"

"I’ve been briefly. I'm not sure I'd be welcome there now, though," he responded tentatively.

Ginny frowned. "Fred and George love me more than they hate you. They'll give you the grand tour if I ask them to."

Not quite convinced, Draco raised an eyebrow, taking a bite of his ice cream. "If you say so."

"You'll be fine," she replied firmly, as if deciding it for the twins. "What are you doing after?"

"I'm meeting Blaise for a bit."

Her face instantly became concerned. "How's he doing?"

Draco shrugged. "That's what we're going to find out." Ginny nodded distractedly and he found her worry adorable. "Ginny," he prodded with a small smile, "Blaise is getting better, just too slowly. He'll be fine."

She raised her eyebrow at him playfully. "Well, if the Great Draco Malfoy said it, then it must be true."

He smiled haughtily. "I'm glad someone finally understands."

She shook her head fondly at him. "From the man who refused chocolate ice cream."

"Vanilla is good," he replied, frowning.

"But chocolate is delicious! And you admitted you haven't tried Fortescue's chocolate!" she insisted. Ginny could forgive being a Death Eater. Forgiving not liking chocolate was an entirely different matter.

She stuck a spoon into her cone, scooping out a bite and holding it tantalizingly in front of him. "You haven't lived until you've tried it!" she taunted.

"Fine," Draco agreed unwillingly. Before he could grab the spoon from her, she slipped it in his mouth.

It was hard to taste the chocolate through the rising embarrassment. "Mmm, good," he lied weakly.

Ginny rolled her eyes, taking the spoon back. "You're not even trying."

She scooped him another bite, but Draco snatched it out of her grasp. "I can feed myself, thank you very much!"

She giggled wickedly. "Just try it!"

He did. Without the added topping of humiliation, it tasted like heaven. "Merlin, what do they put in this thing?!"

Ginny's victorious grin was nearly worth it. "A swirl of fudge, some Muggle cookies called the Oreos, and a hint of mint. Better than plain old vanilla?" she gloated.

"Quiet, you," he growled, and helped himself to another bite.

Madame Malkin's was in sight as they left Fortescue's.

“I can’t believe your idea of a love-letter was that Potter’s eyes were the color of picked toads,” Draco teased as they walked, absently fingering his wand. “I mean, what kind of a psycho likes Harry-I’m-the-Chosen-One-Potter?’

Laughing, Ginny punched his arm. “I was eleven, ok? And who are you to talk? You dated Pansy the Pug!”

“Valid point, but still not even in the same league as Potter.” Draco shoved back into her. “I mean, what kind of idiot--”

“Expelliarmus!” a strange voice yelled.

Too late, Draco grasped for the wand as it flew from his hand. A hooded figure in the alley next to Madame Malkin’s caught it.

Immediately, Ginny rolled, the green blast of a Killing Curse only inches above her head. “Reducto!” she fired as she landed. The wall next to the figure exploded.

Draco dropped behind a bench. “Accio wand!” Try as he might, wandless magic had never been his forte. Now was no exception.

Two more hooded figures appeared behind the first. “Avada Kedavra!” one yelled.

Ginny rolled again, although it would have missed. “Incendio!” she shot back, fire erupting. The Death Eaters, now in the open, were forced to stand apart. Three different targets, and all firing on Ginny.

Nearly as one, they each cast the Killing Curse. Ginny dropped flat against the ground. Three green streaks slashed by, all missing. One only missed by a hair.

Draco had never felt so terrified and utterly useless. Why did they ignore him, though? He was the sitting duck, not Ginny, so brilliantly fighting for her life.

“Reducto!” she screamed furiously. The ground in front of the Death Eaters exploded, throwing them backwards. “Stupefy!” She hit one, and he stayed down.

The second one fired off another Killing Curse, and Ginny rolled. Each time, a different direction, keeping it unpredictable. But every roll forced her farther from Draco and his bench.

“Accio wand!” Draco yelled without success. Still, no one bothered targeting him. As the Death Eaters fired Killing Curse after Killing Curse, a thought hit Draco that made his blood run cold.

Feeling far too much like a Gryffindor, Draco ran towards Ginny. He hunched over to reduce his target area just in case.

She barely spared him a glance. “Confringo!” she yelled again and again, holding her ground fearlessly.

Draco felt like an idiot standing in the open at Ginny’s side. “Stay close to me! I don’t think they’ll fire!”

“Crucio!” a Death Eater called.

Ginny deflected it. “Expelliarmus!” she returned fire.

The Stupefied Death Eater slowly got to his feet. “Flipendo!”

“Confringo!” another yelled.

The first missed, but the fire blast knocked Ginny and Draco backwards, singeing them.

Regaining her footing, she cried, “Expelliarmus!” and it hit. The Death Eater flew backwards, his wand flinging free.

Draco lunged for the fallen wand. Grasping it firmly, he yelled, “Accio my wand!” The familiar wood flew to his hand. He stood victoriously. “Crucio!” he cast and a Death Eater dropped, writhing in pain.

“Confringo!” Ginny roared.

The flames exploded over the Death Eaters. When they cleared, all three had Apparated away.

Ginny and Draco surveyed the area, casting Dark-Detecting spells to make sure they had gone.

She turned to him, intense concentration on her face. “They stopped using the Killing Curse once you came over. How did you know?”

A crowd started to form, people rushing to see who had been attacked. “A sneaking suspicion,” Draco replied guardedly. Before the spectators swarmed them, he pulled Ginny aside, whispering in her ear. “It’s not safe. Get to the Burrow, or back to the Manor. I’ll see you later tonight after I check on Blaise.”

She nodded, thankfully trusting him, and Disapparated.

Draco and Blaise strode (and rolled) through the all-too-familiar halls of Hogwarts. Once, it had felt like home. Now, it took everything in Draco to force the unwanted memories from resurfacing. Being a bully and all-around prat came to nothing in comparison with his sixth and seventh years. A dark, wry grin emerged. Odd how finally being a Death Eater forced him to realize how much he hated it.

The door before them opened. The only other man who truly fathomed Draco’s pain stood before them. “Malfoy, Zabini,” Snape inclined his head in greeting. With the same black robes and greasy hair, the addition of the fang-mark scar upon his neck stood out vividly. It did not help his nickname as the Vampire of the Dungeon. “You’re late,” he said with the now ever-present rasp.

Draco gave him a tight smile. “Had a bit of a run in with some Death Eaters. Diagon Alley, of all places.”

Snape’s eyes widened at that. He understood, as Draco did, that it was a sign of strength that they’d strike so openly.

He beckoned them in, walking over to his cabinets. “An odd request you made of me, but an interesting one,” Snape rasped. “The medical report you sent said Blaise was hit with two different spells.”

Blaise nodded. “St. Mungo’s was fairly sure one was the Cruciatus Curse.”

“I read as much, and agree,” Snape muttered mostly to himself. “The combination explains the nerve damage.”

He cast a diagnostic spell on Blaise and began mixing vials together. Draco shifted awkwardly. “Did you hear about the Nott raid in Ireland?”

Snape didn’t bother to look up, nodding slowly. “Nasty business. That Fountain of Fun was most certainly designed to kill you.”

That caught Draco’s attention. “You’re familiar with it?”

“Hardly. But I have been to that home, during the Second Wizarding War. Lacked any sort of security whatsoever. I’m surprised the Notts bothered to fortify it at all, really.” Snape did look up, then, reading Draco as easily as he always had. “You seem troubled.”

“Their wards shouldn’t have been that good,” Blaise replied for Draco. “We know the Notts, and they’re hardly skilled wizards.”

“Decidedly so,” Snape replied, resuming his work. “Find anything of interest? Or is all of that classified?”

“The one thing we did find is classified,” Draco reluctantly replied. “Everything else self-destructed.”

Snape raised an eyebrow at the potion. “Surprisingly foresightful.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking too,” Draco muttered. The picture became clearer and clearer, and he had a strong dislike for what it painted.

Snape straightened, holding a flask. “This should do it,” he rasped. “I prepared the parts beforehand, and I believe the amounts are accurate.” He handed it to Blaise. “Drink.”

Blaise looked wonderingly at the flask. “This will…?”

Snape cast him a patronizing look. “Only if you drink it.” More kindly, he added, “You should see results by morning.”

Blaise downed the flask, making only a grimace at the likely horrendous taste. “Thank you,” he managed eventually, but meant it.

Snape gave a small, genuine smile. “It is a noble thing, what you and your squad do,” he rasped softly. “Were I not teaching, I would join it myself.”

His words caught Draco off-guard. “Thank you,” he barely managed without his voice cracking.

“Did you know that Slytherin House is at a record low for sorting?” The pain over his House that Snape normally hid surfaced despite his wishes. “All of those offered a choice choose elsewhere.”

“We’re doing our best to change that,” Draco replied softly.

Snape’s mouth twitched in a hint of a smile. “Then you have quite a task ahead of you.”

Hesitantly, Ginny knocked on Hermione’s door. Fred opened it, squeezing his sister in a bear hug. “Ginny’s here!” He announced over his shoulder, swinging his laughingly protesting sister into the living room.

The flat over Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes wasn’t large, but with some Expansion Charms and Hermione’s decorating skill, it had become a lovely little home.

The woman in question watched them from the doorway to the bedroom, smiling fondly at her husband and best friend. “Careful, Fred, she had a raid just yesterday.”

Fred examined Ginny from arm’s length. “Seems intact. Any nasty Slytherins I need to go beat up for you?”

Rolling her eyes, Ginny shoved past him. “If they needed hexing, I would have done it by now.”

Tousling her hair, Fred said, “Alright, I can tell when I’m not needed. I’ll leave you two ladies to it.”

Hermione curled up on the couch, patting the seat next to her. Ginny perched awkwardly, knowing she needed to talk to her friend, but not knowing what to expect.

“You haven’t taken Harry up on his offer,” Hermione threw out.

“I like my squad,” Ginny responded defiantly. “Sure, they’re not...normal or very nice, but I like them.”

Hermione frowned. “Not nice is one thing, Ginny. But mean, and cruel, and--”

“They’re not,” Ginny cut her off firmly. “I wasn’t kidding when I called them my friends. I don’t know Warrington, Daphne, or Goyle well, but they’re dedicated Aurors. Blaise or Draco? Even if the squad folded up tomorrow, I’d still count them as friends."

Hermione winced. “Malfoy?”

“Go on,” Ginny sighed. “Tell me the list of terrible things he’s done.”

Her friend looked away. “No, you know it just as well as I do.”

“He’s definitely a jerk, but…” Her cheeks flamed at the realization. Draco definitely would NOT have counted their day together as a date, not with her of all people...

Hermione watched Ginny intently. “But…?”

“But I wouldn’t be within ten feet of him if I thought he was even the slightest bit evil,” Ginny concluded. A memory of having his arm on her back, heat spreading from his touch, rose unbidden to her mind. Significantly less than ten feet, all right.

“And it’s easy to think he’s worse than he is, once you’ve made up your mind,” she added. “He called me repulsive a while ago--”

“He WHAT?!” Hermione exclaimed.

“--but apparently just thought I’d know he was joking, because obviously I’m not repulsive.” Ginny raised an eyebrow, Hermione’s reaction proving her point perfectly.

“Oh.” Her friend stared off in the distance for a while, processing.

Ginny chuckled. “Called me noble, too.”

Hermione gave her a level stare. “That had to have been an insult.”

“It was,” Ginny giggled. “But not entirely, and he meant it. That might have been a bad example, actually. But anyway, he’s prickly, he’s funny, and I like him.” Her face flushed as she realized the statement was truer than she’d meant it to be. Merlin, she did like him.

Hermione made a face. “So now I have to put up with the Amazing Bouncing Ferret at family dinners?”

Ginny snorted. “Well, no, that was just for you guys to get a chance to meet them fairly. I don’t think either side wants a repeat of the Burrow.”

“Thank Merlin.” Hermione gave her a scrutinizing look that Ginny had come to be very wary of. “Just how close of friends are you, anyway?”

Ginny swallowed. “Close...ish?” Her face flamed as bright as her hair, a tell Ginny had never been able to stop.

Hermione’s mouth fell open in shock. “Ginny! You’re not...you’re not--”

“We’re not,” she could answer honestly. “Not dating, not anything.”

Again, Hermione read her like a book. “But you’re not...opposed to that?” The shock faded, to be replaced by confused disgust.

“Don’t worry, Hermione!” Ginny answered with false brightness. “I’m still a Weasley, and that’ll keep him further from me than anything you could conjure up.”

Her best friend tried for a look of sympathy, even if it fell short. “I won’t lie and say I’m sorry about that.” Hermione’s face twisted as she attempted to say the words. “But I will say...that I wish you had better taste in men?”

Ginny laughed, chucking a couch pillow at her, amidst Hermione’s shrieks and pillows fired in return.

And everything was right in the world.