One pale hand resting against the door, Draco paused, turning to Ginny over his shoulder. “You’re sure this will work?”

She grinned far too mischievously for his taste. “I never said I was sure. Where’s your secret inner Gryffindor, Malfoy?”

“Dead, buried, staked through the heart, burned alive,” he muttered. “Scattered the ashes too, for good measure.”

Ginny shrugged, still enjoying herself more than should be sane. “Sounds about time to wake it back up. Besides, it can’t be worse than what you’re already imagining.”

“Don’t tempt fate,” he growled. But his hand pulled the door open of its own will, more to silence the debate than anything else.

Noise exploded over them. From every corner of the store, blinding, clashing color met their eyes, surrounded by swarms of people.

Ginny chuckled, shoving him the rest of the way inside. “I thought you said you’d been to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes before.”

“I have.” He stared around the room, kids leaning over its second floor balcony, enchanted paper planes flying every which way, some magical tightrope walking toy cartwheeling back and forth across the gap. Frantically, his brain tried to take it all in before it ruptured. “I just don’t remember it being so...alive.”

Fred himself swept over to them, a charming smile across his face. “Welcome to…” It faded as he saw who the new customers were. Fred seemed unsure whether a scowl was appropriate, and settled for a Disapproving Older Brother Frown.

“Hey, Fred,” Ginny called easily. She’d been ignoring those frowns for ages. “Hermione said she’d be here today.”

He nodded, observing Draco warily. “Upstairs. Auror business, I’m assuming?”

His sister shrugged. “Weasley business, if you’ve got a minute.”

Fred’s eyebrow rose. Curiosity had always been a surefire way to pin a Weasley Twin. He turned to a shopkeeper, tossing her a stray Pygmy Puff he’d been holding. “Store’s yours, Verity.”

Verity caught the Pygmy Puff with ease, briskly turning back to her customers. One sported a neon green black eye, complaining loudly while the other customers giggled behind his back.

Fred swept his arm toward the staircase and they followed him up it. “So what brings you two back to Diagon Alley so soon?”

Neither Draco nor Ginny could miss the implication: Fred had read the article. Behind her brother’s back, Ginny shot Draco an impish look. Draco returned it, fighting valiantly to keep from chuckling. “Odd that you should mention that,” he replied with surprising evenness. “Ginny received an incredibly irate Howler over our last trip.”

“Oh?” Fred barely bothered hiding his glee.

“Yes,” Ginny growled. “As if I haven’t made it abundantly clear that it’s none of Mum’s business.”

Fred grinned lopsidedly at his sister. “Don’t worry, she’ll get it about five boyfriends from now. Maybe six.”

“Ha.” Ginny scowled. She shoved open the door to the offices. Hermione perched happily behind a desk labeled ‘F. Weasley’, pouring over sheet after sheet of numbers, a quill tucked behind her ear.

“My, what a relaxing day off,” Draco drawled.

Hermione jumped at his voice. She looked up, frown lessening at the sight of her best friend and husband.

Fred shrugged. “She claims putting things in order helps her relax. And who am I to stop her from making my business actually earn money?”

A small smile twisted her lips. “It would be in the black either way--you’d just never know it. And your suppliers would eventually realize they weren’t getting paid.”

He smiled fondly at his wife before gesturing over his shoulder at Ginny and Draco. “These two have non-Auror business to discuss with you. Us,” he corrected.

Hermione pulled the quill out from behind her ear, turning her full attention on Ginny and Draco. “This is about the article, then?”

Draco groaned. “Has everyone in this whole bloody city read that thing?”

“Probably,” Fred added unhelpfully.

“It’s false?” Hermione asked.

Ginny grimaced. “Well, it was false, at the time. But it’s not...now?”

“Still is fairly false.” Draco raised a finger importantly. “I barely even knew you existed at Hogwarts and don’t ever plan on jumping in front of any Killing Curses. If I have enough time to jump, anyone else has enough time to dodge.”

Hermione couldn’t entirely fight down her smile. “And you’re telling us this…?”

“Because you seemed the least likely to hex us for it,” Ginny replied honestly.

Fred snorted in agreement. “I’ll send you a postcard of Ron’s face when I tell him.” He frowned, adding, “That doesn’t mean I approve.”

“I know,” Ginny cut in quickly. “Just a chance is enough.”

Draco cleared his throat. They all turned to him, instantly making him wish he hadn’t. “My mother and I are hosting a dinner party for the Aurors this week. We’d be honored if the two of you would be there, and the rest of the Weasleys as well.”

Hermione frowned. “Even the non-Aurors?”

Draco shrugged. “They’re practically honorary Aurors anyway. I think every squad would jump at the chance to have the witch who defeated Bellatrix on their side.”

Fred raised an eyebrow mischievously. “Even yours?”

Draco winced. Thankfully Ginny laughed, stepping in. “When Draco wants to get a Howler every time he so much as looks at his Lieutenant, Mum will be at the top of his recruitment list.”

Fred and Hermione chuckled, both thinking back to the Howlers they’d earned. And Mrs. Weasley liked Hermione.

“Fair enough,” Hermione replied, still smiling. “So where’s the party?”

Draco braced himself. “Malfoy Manor.”

All air evaporated from the room. Hermione flinched as if he had physically punched her in the gut. Instantly, Fred threw an arm around her, daring anyone to comment.

“I’ve been staying there for weeks now,” Ginny added softly. “I know I don’t have bad memories of the place, but right now, Grimmauld Place looks darker than it does.”

“I’ll be alright.” Hermione steeled her face but remained leaning against Fred. “It’s just a party, right?”

Slowly, Draco nodded, unsure how to properly respond to such willingness to move forward. “Ginny and I were hoping for a Quidditch match as well.”

Fred’s eyes lit up at that. “Oh?”

“Slytherin Squad versus the Weasleys.” Ginny grinned mischievously. "Draco's got a full pitch."

Fred turned to his wife. "Hermione?"

Unconsciously, she rubbed at her scars through her sleeve. "I'll be fine. Someone has to keep you in line." Hermione smiled faintly.

Her husband shrugged. “If she’s good, I’m good.”

“Thank you,” Draco said softly, but meant it.

Hermione looked at him, trying to play it off casually. “I lead the Aurors. What kind of boss would I be if I skipped their parties?”

Pulling her closer, Fred laughed fondly into her hair. “The kind of boss you’ve always tried to be, if my redeeming influence hadn’t saved you.”

She couldn’t help but grin at him. “Speaking of boss,” she turned to Ginny and Draco, “I called Bill up to investigate the wards on the Nott House.”

A melodramatic groan exploded from Fred. “I should time how long it takes her to bring up work.”

“Did Bill find anything?” Ginny asked intently, ignoring her brother.

Hermione nodded. “He said it could have held five squads till they suffocated. He literally didn’t believe me when I said one squad had beaten it, unscathed, and down a Charms Expert.”

Ginny and Draco shared a victorious grin.

“So.” Hermione’s face twitched as she struggled with the words. “Consider this a formal commendation.”

Draco gasped audibly. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” Hermione couldn’t keep herself from adding, “Just please, please, take a Charms Expert with you next time.”

Fred nodded sagely. “She cries herself to sleep thinking about all that lost evidence. Might be her new Boggart, actually.” Hermione elbowed her husband playfully.

Draco grinned, thinking of how good it was to have Blaise back and walking. “Wouldn’t dream of doing a mission without him.”

Ginny snorted. “I don’t think he’ll let you once he hears we got a commendation without him.”

Once Draco and Ginny stepped out of sight of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, Draco pulled Ginny against him, kissing her thoroughly. She giggled against his mouth. “Collecting your reward for a mission well done?”

He made a noise of agreement and continued kissing her. “Can we move to Russia? Permanently? They probably need Aurors over there.”

She swatted his arm. “Fred and Hermione were wonderful, and you know it.”

“I know.” His mouth twitched with a grin. “I’m just glad it’s them breaking the news to the rest of your clan. I don’t fancy having my nose broken six times in one night.”

Chuckling, Ginny shoved into him. “Fair enough.” A mischievous glint came over her eyes, and Draco waited in fear and excitement. “Want to go on a date with me?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, Weasley, I’m dating you to not go on dates. When, tomorrow after work?”

Her grin broadened. “Right now. I think we’ve both had a stressful day so far, and I’d like to turn it into a good one.”

This sounded better and better. “What did you have in mind?”

Lacing her fingers through his, her grin turned positively devilish. “It’s a secret. Are you up for the challenge, Malfoy?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re on.”

Squeezing her hand, Draco gave her his complete trust as she Apparated them to some unknown, likely nefarious location.

Draco looked around curiously. A simple brick alleyway, with no real distinguishing factors. He frowned in confusion at Ginny.

She tugged on his arm, leading him out towards the street. “Just so no one will see us Apparate. The fun’s out this way.”

Draco stopped, the tugging going unheeded. “Is this...Muggle London?”

Ginny just grinned. “Come and find out.”

With much trepidation, he stepped around the corner. Bright lights lit the streets, with cars zooming past, and Muggles walking and talking amongst themselves. One particularly brightly lit building near them seemed to have Muggles flocking around it, lining up outside and strolling in and out.

Without further explanation, she tugged him into the back of the line with her. A board overhead had words that made no sense, followed by numbers. Times? “Weasley, what the hell are we doing?” he whispered to her.

She giggled infuriatingly. “We’re being Muggles. And we’re just in time for the 7:20 showing.”

“Showing of what?” Malfoy frowned. “Plays don’t have this many times. Do Muggles watch plays en mass?”

“It’s called a ‘movie’,” she finally informed him. “They’re like photographs, but tell stories, with sound and stuff. Hermione brought me to my first one a while ago, and I absolutely adored it. Drawings of lions that talked, and sung, and everything.” At Draco’s utterly bewildered look, she added. “You’ll just have to see for yourself. This one’s got something to do with a special school and a bald man in a wheelchair. Fred recommended it.”

Looking up at the board in pain, Draco felt his life spiral farther and farther out of control. “I’m trusting my evening to the recommendations of Fred Weasley. What is this world coming to?”

It was their turn at the front. Ginny paid smoothly, having Hermione to imitate, and apparently kept a wad of Muggle money on her for exactly this purpose. At the food counter, she picked up some fried corn and two Muggle fizzing drinks.

Entirely out of his element, Draco blindly followed Ginny into their numbered room. A giant wall of moving images stretched in front of the darkened rows of seats.

Image after image flashed in close succession, with explosions and brief clips of dialogue. "This is a movie?" Draco breathed, trying to hide his awe. He couldn't tell what the heck was happening, but boy was it fascinating.

"This is a trailer. It's showing you a sample of a movie that's coming out soon." Ginny, gracious in victory as always, grinned wide enough to split her face at Draco's wonderment.

"I would like to see these 'Pirates of the Caribbean'," he stated matter-of-factly.

She giggled. "Alright, Mr. Malfoy. Let's find our seats for this one first."

Pulling him away from his gaping, she guided him to the back row, where they wouldn't disturb the Muggles.

The ‘movie’ started.

“Mutants,” a voice announced over a black photo. A few stars appeared. “Since the discovery of their existence, they have been regarded with fear, suspicion--often hatred. Across the planet, debate rages. Are mutants the next link in the evolutionary chain? Or simply a new species of humanity, fighting for their share of the world? Either way, it is a historical fact: sharing the world has never been humanity’s defining attribute.”

Ginny looked in horror at the screen. “Oh no,” she whispered breathlessly.

Draco leaned over in excitement. “Are you sure this wasn’t made by a pure-blood?”

“It’s Muggle, alright,” she responded with growing dread.

The real action started. One funny-looking man with a tail tore through row upon row of the Muggles with their ineffectual weapons--simply by Apparating.

Minutes later, Draco understood. He leaned over to Ginny. “These are wizards who can cast one spell wandlessly! The redhead’s a Legilimens, the blonde bloke cast the Freezing Spell, the other bloke cast Incendio, and the bald one in the wheelchair uses a powerful Imperius!”

“I think you’re missing the point,” Ginny protested feebly.

But, feeling quite proud of himself, Draco settled back in his seat.

“That school was eerily like Hogwarts,” Ginny remarked as they left the movie.

Draco chuckled. “I thought I was missing the point? And more importantly, what the Muggles would do to Hogwarts if they knew it existed.”

“Muggles aren’t bad,” Ginny frowned. “They’re just like you and me, only without magic.”

“Ginny, even the Muggles think they’re intolerant,” he replied, gesturing back at the theater they walked away from. Unconsciously, he rubbed at his left arm. “I mean, not that wizards are much better, but still.”

“If you’re saying we should stay separate, even Xavier agrees with you. Probably Dumbledore as well. It’s why we have Muggle-repelling wards around the school in the first place.”

Draco nodded. “I’m not saying Magneto’s right. I’m saying he’s understandable, and a bit awesome.” He pinched his fingers together, indicating the small size. “Even just the teensiest bit. You have to agree.”

Grudgingly, Ginny nodded. “That plastic prison escape was freaking awesome. You have me there. But it’s despite his homicidal tendencies, not because of them.”

He agreed vigorously. “Of course, of course. But still!” Tossing a grin at Ginny, he continued, “That movie was amazing. Still think it was made by a pure-blood.”

“I told you, it’s Muggles only! We don’t have the faintest idea how to do that movie stuff with magic!”

Chuckling, Draco slipped his arm around Ginny, content to just walk the streets of London with her. He looked around. Couples, groups, and lone people strolled along, minding their own business, even this late at night. From that perspective, the two of them looked no different, just a couple out for a stroll. The Muggle world was so much bigger, with its towering buildings and crazy amounts of people. It was easy to get lost in. Right now, Draco liked it.

He leaned over, kissing Ginny on the side of her head. She smiled up at him. “What’s up?”

“Just happy I can do that without getting it plastered on the front page,” he replied honestly. Ginny laughed happily, and it warmed him to his toes. A topic he’d been dreading bringing up surfaced in his mind. Reluctantly, he realized this was his last chance to mention it. “Ginny,” he started, but she immediately turned, catching the change in his tone.

“What’s wrong, Draco?” she asked, brow furrowed.

He sighed. “You need to hear it from me, before anyone else mangles it. I’m trying to go to Azkaban to talk to my father.”

Concern flashed across her face, but she waited until the other shoe fell. “Why’s that?”

Awkwardly, Draco scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I think he might know something about what Nott and Macnair are up to. I’m seeing too many of his fingerprints on everything.” At her look, he continued. “Nott and Macnair aren’t talented wizards or strategists. Wards are specifically tricky, and something my father excelled at. Snape said the Nott wards were new since Voldemort’s downfall. Something like that required an expert, and I know of very few.” In a softer voice, he added. “Also, I knew the tune the fountain played. It’s one he always loved.”

Ginny brushed her hand against his cheek. “Are you going to be ok?”

Frowning, he nodded. “I haven’t written to him at all since he went there. We have a... complicated relationship, to say the least. I’d rather not go, but I think I have to.”

She nodded with sad understanding. “Do what you must.”

“Out of the question,” Hermione cut him off firmly. “Azkaban is strictly controlled, and there’s no way you could go without it looking like cavorting with the enemy.”

“I said I’d have to go in secret,” Draco insisted. “Beyond just that, both sides will want me dead if they find out. The Death Eaters will assume he spilled his guts to me regardless of what he knows or says.”

Hermione scowled. “It’s a pointless risk. We’ve had Aurors interrogate every prisoner on that island under Veritaserum, and everything they’ve said is on record.”

Draco shook his head. “I think he’s been involved in something since getting to Azkaban. The Nott wards are new, and none of the current uncaptured Death Eaters have the skill to manage it.”

“All communication with Azkaban is strictly controlled and monitored. We’d know if suspicious messages were carried.”

“Traitors happen,” he replied, “as we well know. So do bribes. Even you know it’s not impossible. And I’d say Nott managing that ward without blasting his foot off is even less likely. You heard what Bill said.”

Sighing deeply, Hermione nodded. Reluctantly, she added, “We’ve stopped making any headway at all with Macnair. I can’t believe I’m saying this--” With a grimace, she looked Draco in the eye. “There’s a mole in one of the senior squads.”

Draco’s eyes widened in shock--at the news, and at her openness. “That bad?”

She nodded grimly. “We nearly lost three good Aurors on the last mission. Their intel is just too accurate.” Evaluating the man before her, she questioned, “What do you expect to gain from Lucius?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied honestly. “There’s a good chance he’ll tell me nothing of value whatsoever. Or mislead me. He’s entirely unsupportive of everything I’m doing.” Wishing he could get around telling Hermione, of all people, Draco added, “But I think there’s a good chance he’s involved with Nott and Macnair, with a high probability he’s leading them.”

The witch looked skeptical, but refrained from commenting. “What makes you say that?”

Draco winced. “Ever since his failure after Voldemort’s first fall, Lucius planned how to avoid it a second time. If Voldemort fell again, how to unite the Death Eaters under his leadership instead.”

Her eyes widened. “You didn’t think this relevant before? What are these plans?”

“He confessed as much under Veritaserum during his trial. No one took it seriously, as he didn’t fight the charges. He never bothered sharing those plans with me.”

Hermione frowned into her steepled fingers, lost in thought. “Alright,” she finally declared, standing up from her desk, “let’s get you to Azkaban.”

Her sudden change caught Draco off guard. “What about security?”

She smiled with the menace of a well-trained Auror. “I’m coming with you.”