a/n: This one’s for Bob Seger.

Disclaiming! *G*

Ginny Weasley sat in a corner of the little pub and watched the man enter through a side door. He was covered from head to toe in a heavy black cloak, and not even his gender was evident but she instinctively knew it was him. He was as silent as a cat stalking its prey, his movements smooth and designed to blend into the crowd so as not to call attention to himself, but she’d known this man for a very long time, and knew all his tricks to go unobserved. She’d used the same tricks herself, on more than one occasion. Anyone else would have missed him entirely.

She stayed seated in her dim little niche, sipping the fire whiskey she’d gotten from the bar when she entered and continued to watch the man carry out his business oblivious to her observance. She’d had the advantage as he didn’t know to look for her as she’d known to look for him.

He leaned over the bar and spoke quietly into the barkeep’s ear. Ginny watched as he slid his hand across the bar, lifting it to reveal a small envelope only for a second before the barkeep covered it with his own hand and slid it over the edge and under the counter. Only when he turned to go did the man notice her in the far corner of the room. Even though she couldn’t see his eyes, she felt them boring into her. She knew she’d been spotted and inclined her head slightly at the figure in the cloak. With the barest nod in return, the man turned back to the barkeep and said something short, then began weaving though the tables to where she sat and seated himself across from her.

After a few moments, a plump waitress brought over a glass and a bottle and left it on the table. The man poured himself a drink, and then replenished Ginny’s glass as well. Unable to bear the silence anymore, Ginny snapped, “Would you take that damned hood off Draco, so I can see your face?”

He reached up and pushed the hood back off his head, letting it fall on his shoulders. Grinning at her he said, “Better?”

“Hell no," she replied. “You’re just as good looking as ever. I was hoping you’d gotten wrinkles or gone bald or something.”

Running his hand over the mass of white blond, he smirked. “Perish the thought, love. And might I say you look just as ravishing as ever.”

Ginny gave him a malevolent look.

“Are you here to try to take me in?” he asked, swinging the topic from the endurance of their mutual good looks to the reason of her presence so abruptly it left Ginny startled for a moment.

She’d always had to struggle to match quips with him. She had always been a second too late with her witty replies, a beat off with her sarcastic retorts. She scrambled to regain her composure from his quick change of tact and said, “If I were, would you be surprised?”

“Frankly yes. I can’t imagine that the great and wonderful Potter would send his best friend’s sweet and innocent little sister after the big bad Death Eater Malfoy.” He leaned in closer and leered at Ginny. “Or perhaps he knows now that you’re not as sweet and innocent as you make out to be, aye, Gin?”

“Shut it, Malfoy. What Harry knows or doesn’t know about me is irrelevant to my ability to do my job. And most definitely none of your business,” she said.

“Or perhaps you’ve finally gotten your heart's desire? Did Harry finally notice you’re a girl, Ginny? Did he finally see what’s been right there under his nose, waiting for him all these years? Or maybe I should say, most of these years. I’d like to be vain enough to think that there we at least a couple there that you’d forgotten Potter’s name,” he said, with a momentary wince that Ginny wasn’t sure she’d actually seen in the first place. He’d never been one to allow even a glimpse at his true emotions. And after all these years, why would he care if she still carried a torch for Harry?

Feeling the sting of his barbs finally penetrating her thick skin, she hissed, “You’ve not the foggiest notion what my heart’s desire is Malfoy. And your vanity has never been a question of what you’d like; it’s always been what you demanded to have.”

“You wound me Gin, you really do. One would think we weren’t friends anymore.”

“We were never friends, Malfoy. We were a lot of things, but never friends.”

“Ah yes, a lot of things,” he echoed, then once again changed topic on her. “So why did they send you, Ginny?”

This time she was ready for him, seeing his tactic was going to be bait and switch. “Because they’re desperate and running out of ideas. They thought they had you cornered in Berlin, but you were too quick for them. How did you get out of there without anyone seeing you, anyway?”

He shrugged. “I just turned around and walked out once I spotted the aurors. It was really just idiotic of Harry to send Granger. I was a bit insulted. Did he think I would forget what the Mudblood looked like?”

“Hermione is a Weasley now. And I don’t know why Harry sent her, I told him not to. Still, I thought you might have risked it, being so close to accomplishing your goal there,” Ginny replied.

“I’ve always known when it’s time to play and when it’s time to quit the game. And you’re not so different. If you were, you wouldn’t be so good at what you do. I heard about you trapping Zabini in Bulgaria. I heard about you spearheading the capture of Flint and you single handedly brought in Bulstrode,” he said, saluting her with his drink before knocking it back in one swallow.

“Yes, and I’ll just bet you heard how I let Parkinson slip through my fingers in Vienna, too,” she said, staring down into the amber liquid in her glass.

“The point is, Gin,” he said, leaning across the table toward her in earnest, “You're damn good at what you do, as good as I am at what I do. Considering our past, you shouldn’t be here and I see from the look on your face that you know that. So why would you let them send you?”

“Because they can’t catch you, Malfoy. And Harry knew I’d know how to find you. I’m sure he’s sitting in his office right now praying that I’ll do the ‘right thing’ and bring you in,” she said.

“Do you think you can bring me in, Ginny?” he asked.

She sat up suddenly at the words. Staring him directly in the eye she replied “Don’t doubt me, Malfoy. I can be quite ruthless, ask your boy Blaise. And I was taught by the most ruthless bastard known to the wizarding world.”

Draco chuckled. “Oh stop. You’re going to make me blush. On that note though, you have to know, Red, that I never meant to hurt you.”

Ginny cringed mentally at the use of the old familiar nickname. No one else had ever been allowed to call her that. She felt her temper flare that he had the audacity to use it now. “Didn’t you? Well let me ask you then, Draco, just what did you mean to do?”

Draco blanched a bit from her forthrightness. He hadn’t really expected her to tear up or get all sentimental like other women might at the mention of their past. He had taught her better than to allow her emotions to get in the way of whatever it was that had to be done. But he had expected that the quick change in subject once again, and the personal nature of it might cause her to withdraw and while she was regrouping, he’d have a few extra minutes to think of how to get out of this mess. Instead she had bellied up to the bar and challenged him on it. He was amused to feel some inner sense of pride in her boldness.

“I only meant to amuse myself at first. Then I meant to teach you something about life. I think I did that. You can’t argue that part of what makes you so good at catching Death Eaters is that you were in love with one for better than two years, can you?” He was pleased to see her swallow hard at the mention of her feelings ... now to go in for the kill. “What I never meant to do was two things. I never meant to hurt you, like I said, but I never meant to fall in love with you either.”

Ginny gazed at him steadily for what felt like the longest minutes of his life. He could see the confusion behind her eyes, although to anyone else, the slight softening would have been undetectable. He reached across the table to cover her hand with his. He thought the contact of skin might be just enough to push her over the edge and into making the decision to let him leave, the goal he had been working towards ever since he had spotted her in the pub.

Instead of having the effect he intended, Draco touching Ginny’s hand snapped her back to attention. She knew him too well. He would never touch her in such a blatant display of affection and open emotion if it were not calculated. This incensed her. It was not so much that he was trying to manipulate her; she’d learned many years ago to accept that manipulation was simply a part of what Draco was. It was that she had allowed herself to be manipulated.

Draco saw the hardness creep back into Ginny’s eyes. As she withdrew her hand from his, he knew he’d lost.

“You just disgust me. Turning on the charm, just enough to get you by. Really I’m surprised. No kisses? No declarations of pining away for me? Wait, no, that’s just not your style, is it. You, you aim higher than that. Were you next going to suggest a quick romp in bed for old time’s sake?”

He smirked. “Well, now that you mention it, I’ve never found anyone who could do that little thing you did with your tongue on my-“

She cut him off. “You’re still the same, Malfoy.”

“So are you, Red, so are you,” he said, and he felt sad that this red haired woman in front of him had been his once and that she’d never be again. He was also sad to see the look in her eyes that he so often saw in his own when he looked into a mirror. He’d been the one to put that look there, and though she’d never know, he was dreadfully sorry for that.

Ginny felt as though this whole episode had been some sort of a test for her. And she’d failed it. Even though she’d managed not to fall for his tricks, it had been a near thing, and Merlin help her, she couldn’t help but feel the small ache of longing for what would never be again when she looked into those cool gray eyes of his. After all this time, he could still tug at her emotions.

She pushed her chair back and suddenly rose. He looked up at her and asked, “Where are you going? I thought you were here to take me in.”

“Maybe I’ll just tell them you never showed, Malfoy. Maybe I just needed to see you. Maybe you needed to see me too. To see if anything had changed.”

“And has it? Changed, I mean?” he asked,

Ginny twisted her mouth up in a wry smile and said, “Some things never change.”

With a wicked grin, Draco nodded at Ginny, pulled the hood of his cloak back up over his head, and walked out of the pub, leaving Ginny to polish off the rest of the whiskey in her glass as she tried to think of what she was going to tell Harry.

a/n: After some encouragement from a couple of friends, I have decided that there might be a bit more to tell in this story. This is my first attempt at installments, since usually I finish a story before I post it. We’ll see how it goes.

“So how did he get away?”

“He didn’t get away,” Ginny Weasley replied, as she stood before the Head Auror’s desk. “I let him go.”

Harry Potter pushed at the spectacles perched on his nose and repeated Ginny’s words in a deceptively calm voice, “You let him go.”

She inclined her head slightly. “Yes.”

Harry’s lips tightened into a thin line and in the same unemotional voice he said, “I see.”

There was more than a hint of amusement in her voice when she replied quietly, “Do you?”

Harry felt the grasp on the calm he was desperately holding onto slip when he looked up to see the smirk on Ginny’s face. The fact that it bore a startling resemblance to the trademark smirk of the Slytherin in question only served to infuriate him more.

He slammed a gigantic tome of spells on his desk shut with a loud and sudden thwap, making both Hermione and Ron, who’d been standing by the window trying to seem unobtrusive, jump.

“Yes, Ginny”, Harry answered finally, “I see a lot of things quite clearly now.”

“Well, then,” Ginny said, “I guess there’s no need for any further explanation.”

She turned and strode out of the office. She’d made it as far as the corner to turn into the corridor leading to the exit of the ministry building when she heard her brother call out to her. She didn’t turn around or stop, but she did slow down to allow him and her sister-in-law to catch up.

“Gin,” Ron exclaimed, out of breath, “what the bloody hell was that all about?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Ron,” she said, speeding up her pace again.

Ron reached out and grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn and face him. “Why didn’t you just tell him Draco got away? That he didn’t show or something?”

“Because that wasn’t the truth. He did show. He didn’t get away. I let him go.”

“You know what sort of stress Harry’s been under lately. The whole Wizarding world is expecting him to clear up this sudden outbreak of Death Eater activities. That’s a lot of pressure. Merlin, he would have been in his rights to fire you Gin!”

The look of concern on Ron’s face should have given Ginny some comfort. Instead it pushed her beyond her last dregs of patience, coupled with that incredulous speech. Being unable to stand anymore, she unleashed her exasperation on her brother.

“Harry’s been under some sort of pressure or another since he was eleven years old. You’d think he’d be used to it by now. I told Harry I didn’t think it wise for me to take this assignment, and he knew all the reasons why I was right, and yet he chose to send me anyway. If Harry decides to fire me because of a direct result of his bad decision, then so be it.”

She turned to walk away, but Ron held fast to her arm. “Look, I’m only trying to think of you. There’s only so much you can expect to get by with, even if you are my sister, you know. I don’t know why you couldn’t have just told Harry that Malfoy didn’t show. I guess that insane infatuation with Malfoy affected you more than we thought. You certainly have acquired his arrogant pride. Poor Harry, I don’t know what he’ll do now. He was really counting on you Gin.”

Ginny turned to glare at her brother. “Why is it Ron that the first thing out of my family’s mouth when anything happens is to speculate on how it will affect Harry Potter? You claim to be thinking of me but the crux of it is how will it affect Harry, isn’t it? That seems to be the only time anyone notices anything I do. I often wonder, Ron, if Harry hadn’t been plagued with hearing the balisk, how long it would have taken anyone to notice I was missing when I opened the chamber.”

Ron blanched, and Ginny knew she’d hit the mark with her barb. He abruptly let her go and hurried back down the hallway.

Hermione Weasley, who’d been silent during the whole brother-sister tirade, turned to Ginny.

“Ron mentioned that Malfoy’s pride had rubbed off on you, Gin, but he forgot to add that you seem to have inherited his cruel streak as well”, she said quietly before turning to hurry after her husband.

Ginny watched them go for a moment and sighed. She hadn’t meant to hurt them, but neither was she in the mood to run after them and soothe their hurt feelings. She wasn’t sorry for letting Draco go, and she simply didn’t care enough to apologize.

She laid her head against the cool stone of the wall for a moment to collect herself. Let them all commiserate on her betrayal together. She was going home for a glass of wine and a good soak.

Ginny had almost gotten away. In fact, she was reaching for the door that led out of the building when she heard her name being called out. She recognized the voice of her boss, her friend and her adopted brother, Harry Potter.

Perhaps he had decided not to wait till he calmed down to fire her after all. For a moment she seriously contemplated the idea of pretending not to hear him and making a sprint to the Apparition point just outside, but then she took a deep breath and turned to face him.

As she watched the handsome black-haired man hurry down the corridor, she reflected on the broad scope of extremes that their relationship had taken over the years. Seeing him nervously smooth down his ever messy hair as he approached her made her smile. “Yes, Harry?” she said.

“Gin, I couldn’t let you leave that way,” he replied. “I’m trying to figure out what just happened. I’m sorry I was angry—”

“Harry, you have every right to be angry. I didn’t do my job, and I let Draco go purposefully. I understand your anger. In my defense though, I’d like to remind you that I strenuously objected to being sent on this particular assignment.”

“Is that why you did it Gin? Were you trying to prove some sort of a point? Getting back at me for sending you to catch Draco?”

Ginny sighed. “Oh, Harry, you don’t really believe that, do you?”

“I just don’t know what to believe, Gin. Ron was saying it was all about you being stubborn and prideful, and Hermione was implying that it all had something to do with the way our relationship ended in school, and honestly, Ginny, I’m just confused. It’s not like you to be so nonchalant about flubbing an assignment, to be so flippant towards me. You reminded me of….” Harry stopped, seemingly at a loss for words.

“Of Draco?” Ginny supplied for him.

“Well yes,” Harry agreed.

“Harry, I want you to know, I respect you enormously. Over the years, you’ve been my friend, my confidant, my hero even. You are truly my seventh brother and I love you. I’d do almost anything you asked me to do, catch anyone you asked me to catch. I’d go after the Dark Lord himself if he somehow managed to resurrect himself from that puddle of green slime you turned him into, if it’s what you needed me to do. But the one thing I won’t do for you, Harry, is cage Draco Malfoy. I don’t expect you to understand that, I’m not sure I do myself. And before you ask, no, I am not still in love with Draco, I barely think about him anymore. But I did love him once, Harry, and I just can’t be the one you depend on to bring him down. I’m sorry,” and with that Ginny turned and walked out the door and home to her tub.

Draco Malfoy dreamed that night. It was something that didn’t happen to him often. Most nights, he slept a peaceful, dreamless sleep. In his opinion, those who dreamed were burdened with a weakness of spirit that some called a conscience. He was conveniently devoid of such a useless item in his mentality.

But that night he dreamed. He dreamed of long red hair and tawny eyes that gleamed like gold and laughter that sounded like music. He dreamed of Ginny Weasley.

He jerked awake suddenly, as if he were having a nightmare. In a way, for Draco, dreaming of Ginny was a nightmare. She was the one of the few people that had ever elicited anything other than mild feelings from him, and he had left her behind years ago. Yet simply speaking to her for a few minutes had him waking in a cold sweat and longing to touch pale freckled skin with an ache so strong it left him shivering. And that, for Draco Malfoy, was very scary indeed.

When he’d first entered into a relationship with Ginny, it was strictly for entertainment. And it had provided that quite nicely, on several different levels. It had driven the Weasel and Potter mad that she’d been with him. Draco barely contained his glee each time he had seen Potter’s mouth tighten when Ginny had reached for Draco’s hand in his presence. The stupid git had still been in love with her then, leaving her behind only because his martyr-like ideals told him he had to in order for her to be safe. How disillusioned Potter must have been when Draco convinced Ginny that if she waited on Harry, she’d be waiting forever.

Draco, on the other hand, had no such hero complex, and it didn’t bother him in the least that being involved with him put her directly in the line of fire of both Voldemort’s and his father’s displeasure. He felt that if he were asked about it, he’d explain his purpose and that would keep any sort of repercussion towards him that might come about from occurring. As for what might happen to her, well, it hadn’t been something he’d been bothered about back then.

And then there was the fact that Ginny had several entertaining physical features. On a list that had circulated through the boys dormitories at Hogwart’s during her sixth year, Ginny Weasley had been number two on the list of ‘The ten hottest Witches at Hogwart’s’, second only to Daphne Greengrass, and the only reason Daphne had beat her was because Daphne indulged in certain…sports, and one of them wasn’t Quidditch. Certainly Draco Malfoy’s reputation was such that people expected him to have one of the top three girls on that list on his arm. Daphne had been around a bit too much for her to make the grade, but Ginny would do nicely in her place. And it didn’t hurt that it was the girl that everyone knew Harry Potter still wanted.

And last of all, there was the quite unexpected bonus of the girl weasel’s wit. Of course, Draco had known from their few interactions over the years that she was somewhat strong willed and stubborn. He had found though, after a few interactions with her, that she possessed an intelligence that rivaled that of himself and that mudblood Granger. He could appreciate brains. Hanging about with dimwitted buffoons like Crabbe and Goyle , Draco found himself thrilled to have someone who could actually keep up with his thought process and understand him when he talked about anything more complicated than professional Quidditch scores, what was being served for dinner that night, or who needed some ‘roughing up’ to show proper respect for Slytherins.

So, Draco had set out with Ginny Weasley to cause some discomfort to the Golden Trio, impress the school with the prettiest girl, and to have someone to occasionally amuse himself with some semi-intelligent conversation. But he had been young then, and he hadn’t yet discovered that the fates had a way of turning on you when your plans didn’t follow their weaves.

Draco threw back the sumptuous covers of the bed and padded barefoot across the room to the wardrobe. “It’s a sodding faulty pensieve,” he muttered under his breath as he took a small stone bowl from the shelf on the top.

Draco rarely experienced what others would call ‘pangs of conscience’ but the few times he did, he found the myriad of emotions it brought on burdened him with extreme reactions, something he could not afford, in his line of work. So rather than be weighed down with self-doubt and remorse or regret, all emotions Draco found to be completely worthless, he had acquired the pensieve. He poured every incident in his life that had caused him any sort of emotional reaction into it, and while he still retained a memory of the incidents, the crippling effects of the emotions did not hamper him as they did others. One of the memories the pensieve held was of his relationship with Ginny Weasley.

Only now, it seemed the pensieve was not working properly. It couldn’t be. Draco simply didn’t believe that if it was, he would have woken up short of breath, dripping sweat, and with a hard-on in reaction of seeing his red-head after five years had passed to fade the memory. Draco made a disgusted sound as he caught that last though and rewound it in his head. She wasn’t his red-head any longer. He imagined she belonged to some other bloke now. In fact, it was quite likely that Potter had finally put his stupid morals aside and realized what he had turned away years ago.

Draco felt his hands clench tightly around the pensieve at the thought of Ginny with Harry and he nearly tossed the bowl across the room in frustration before he caught himself. He set the pensieve down carefully on the desk in the corner of the room and ran a hand through his rumpled hair. He examined the outside of the bowl carefully but could detect no cracks or anything out of the ordinary in it. Likewise, the magical substance the bowl contained did not look damaged or tampered with in any way.

Draco sighed. Obviously, if there was a problem with the pensieve, it had to be within it. Realizing that he wasn’t going to be getting anymore sleep that night anyway, he allowed himself to enter the pensieve, into a memory he’d placed there five years ago.

The blond boy watched the small red-haired girl from the safety of the shadows. He had come upon her on his normal nightly stroll, ensconced on the bench he often stopped at. He’d never known why the bench was there. It was dangerously close to the edge of the forbidden forest, a place the teachers at Hogwart’s definitely didn’t want the students. He often came there, just to get away from the noise and constant posturing of the Slytherin common room. But tonight he had found his quiet retreat already occupied. She had been there for the last ten minutes, not doing anything, just staring out into the forest and up at the night sky alternately, and his patience was wearing thin.

“Don’t do it,” Draco said, from his place just behind the blond boy, knowing already that the boy would indeed do it anyway.

The boy stepped out of the darkness. “Well, well, if it isn’t the girl weasel. What are you doing out her all alone, weasel girl, so close to the bad ole forest in the dark?”

The red-haired girl jumped at the sudden voice in the silence and turned around to glare at him. “Malfoy. It had to be you, didn’t it? Go away, my night’s already been ruined and you couldn’t possibly make it any worse, so there is no work for you here.”

“Oh, don’t be so quick, Red. I can always make it worse.”

“Don’t call me that, Ferret. I’m not interested in fighting with you, so just go away or I’ll hex you again.”

He shuddered as he remembered the horrible bat-bogey hex she had put on him. Still, it only firmed his resolve to send her off in tears. “What is ‘it’ anyway? Have a fight with your boyfriend? Potter found himself another chit that snogs a bit better than you?”

It was a stupid thing to say. Not even a very good insult, as his standard of insults went, but it had more than the desired effect on Ginny. Her lip trembled and even in the dim light of the moon, Draco could see the tears glistening in her eyes.

“Harry is not my boyfriend, not anymore. Don’t you know that? Everyone else does.”

Draco snorted. “Everyone knows he’s still besotted with you, and only gave you up because he thinks he’s protecting you. Stupid git. Does he really think that breaking up with you is going to keep the Dark Lord from getting you if he decides to? It’s not as if everyone can’t see it was all a ploy.”

Ginny sighed and replied, “That’s exactly what I said. Glad to see someone agrees with me, even if it is you, Malfoy.”

“No! Don’t say it. You can still get away. Turn around and walk away. It’s not too late. Just…don’t…say it.” Draco said watching the face of his younger self change from arrogant confidence to displeasure as he realized he had comforted the red-haired girl instead of insulting her, and then to demonic smirking as he opened his mouth for the comment that would seal his fate to hers for the next two years.

“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Potter really did find someone who snogs better than you Weasley.”

“You said it,” Draco sighed, running a hand over his face.

Ginny was so quick that Draco didn’t realize she had moved until she was inches away from him, a strange gleam in her eyes. “Nobody snogs better than me Malfoy. Here, let me prove it to you.”

As she rose on her toes, she slid a hand around the back of his neck and tugged his shocked face down to hers…

Draco dragged his mind up out of the past in the pensieve back into the present of his dark bedchamber. No need to look any further into that particular memory. He remembered what had happened next without any help.

For just a moment Draco was sixteen years old again, angry at the whole world without really knowing why. And then she had kissed him and the world began to spin the wrong way. Draco told himself he would use Ginny, he told himself that it would entertain him to ‘keep’ her for a while. He told himself a lot of things over the next two years but the truth of it was, with one kiss, Draco Malfoy was betrayed by his own heart that night.

Shaking his head to throw the memory out of his head he sighed. Obviously there wasn’t anything wrong with the pensieve.

“Ah, Red, how the hell can it be that you can still do this to me?” he asked the empty room.

Draco was putting the bowl back on the shelf when he heard the pecking at his window. Closing the wardrobe doors, he turned and opened the window. A large brown owl hopped through and deposited a scroll on the desk.

“Does your mistress know what time it is?” Draco asked the creature as he picked up the scroll and began to unroll it. The owl only stared at Draco impassively.

Draco began reading the scrawling script on the scroll. His expression went from irritation to amazement. Snatching a quill from the desk he hurriedly dipped it into the ink jar and sketched a quick message on the bottom. He rolled the paper back up and held it up for the owl. The owl took the scroll and took flight through the window into the night sky. After watching it soar off for a moment, Draco closed the window and rubbed his hands together as he strode to the wardrobe for the second time that night.

His eyes rested on the stone bowl on the shelf for just a moment and he closed his eyes for a moment. It was good to see her again, he thought, but if that message is true, then things are about to change. There will be casualties and she’s likely to be one of the first. I don’t intend to be a casualty. Not even for her.
And with that, Draco firmly put all thoughts of Ginny Weasley from his mind. After dressing quickly he threw floo powder into the cold hearth and said “Spinner’s End” and stepped into the green fire.

Dusting soot off his shoulders, he looked around the dinghy little room. A pretty woman with a slightly pug-nose strode towards him.

“Draco, hello.”

Draco took the woman’s hand in his and kissed it. “Pansy. I was surprised to get a message from you. It wasn’t smart to be so careless with your location. Anyone could have intercepted your owl. You’re very high on the ministry’s wanted list right now, and I happen to know of at least one Auror who would love to know you’re right here under her nose. You left a very bitter taste in her mouth in Vienna.”

Pansy Parkinson rolled her eyes. “You mean your little weasel, I presume. Yes, I imagine she’d be chewing on the handle of her broomstick to get to me. That witch is a lot more dangerous than she appears. Too bad you couldn’t ever turn her to our side.”

“She isn’t my weasel anymore Pansy. And she isn’t little anymore either.”

Pansy gave him a sharp look. “You say that like you know from recent experience Draco.”

Draco gave her a twisted smile. “In fact, I do. I had the pleasure of running into Auror Weasley just today. Or rather, yesterday, considering the time.”

Pansy gasped. “You ran into her? And she saw you as well? No, don’t answer that, I can see from the look on your face that she did. I can’t believe that she didn’t stupefy you immediately and cart you off. By the Gods, Draco Malfoy, what is your secret? I scrambled to get away from her, and had to live hand to mouth for months because I didn’t dare use magic to contact anyone and you she lets just walk away?”

“Ahem. Forgive me for interrupting this intensely entertaining conversation, but we have bigger things to discuss at the moment.”

Draco and Pansy both turned and observed a slender, greasy haired man standing in the hidden doorway frowning at them both.

“Snape is right, Draco. You have to go in and speak to him. He has many new…ideas.” Pansy said, an indiscernible look on her face. “He’s asked for you already.”

“I’m still having difficulty believing he’s alive. Potter didn’t leave much of him the last time they….” Draco trailed off.

“Well, be that as it may, he is alive, and he wants to see you. Now.” Snape said, stepping out of the doorway and gesturing towards the dark room beyond.

Draco looked at Pansy for a moment, who gave away no expression on her face, and then he swept past Snape and into the room.

When he came out, two hours later, the sun was rising. Draco dropped on the grimy couch and rubbed his temples with his fingers. Pansy sat down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Severus Snape only stood at the window, looking out to the dirty little street.

Finally Draco raised his head and with a look that took in both the woman at his side and the man at the window he asked “Sweet Circe, what are we going to do?”

The sun beamed in through the window and directly into Ginny’s left eye. She tried to rub it away as she rose from the bed and sleepily shuffled her feet on the cold floor, searching for her slippers. Not bothering to reach for the robe tossed over the end of the bed, she made her way to the kitchen and twitched her wand at the container of coffee beans.

As the beans poured themselves into the grinder on the counter a voice hissed in her ear, “You were right about some things never changing. You’re still not a morning person, Red.”

Ginny shrieked and jerked herself around, wand already brandished in front of her, ready to do battle. “Bloody hell, Malfoy! What in Merlin’s name are you doing in my kitchen?”

Draco, who had backed away when Ginny screamed, held his hands up beside his head in a gesture of surrender that vaguely reminded Ginny of something she’d seen on a muggle T.V. show once. She had the fleeting thought that he’d just love that comparison when he smirked slightly and said, “I came for breakfast?”

Ginny just continued to stare at him. Long moments passed. Finally Draco sighed dramatically and said, “Red, do you think you could take the wand off of me? I need to speak to you and frankly, your hair trigger hexing tendencies makes me a bit nervous.”

“What? Oh, sorry.” Ginny looked down and saw she was still pointing her wand at Draco defensively. She tucked her wand into the pocket of her pajamas. “But you shouldn’t just creep into someone’s house like that. In fact, how did you get in? I know I set my wards last night.”

“You’re too trusting, Red. Those wards are far too simple for an Auror. Does it occur to you that you’ve captured several of my colleagues and there are wizards out there that would descend on you in a second if they knew you kept only the simplest of guards up?”

“I’m going to have to ask you not to call me that anymore. And I’m not afraid of your Death Eater friends, Draco. Coffee?” she asked, and shoved the mug into his hands without giving him a chance to answer.

She leaned back against the counter and studied him for a moment. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that you’re here to turn yourself in, isn’t it? I mean, Azkaban isn’t exactly your idea of suitable repentance for your crimes, is it?”

Draco smirked over the lip of his cup. “Not likely, love.”

Ginny sighed and pushed a mass of red hair out of her eyes. “So….why are you here, Draco?”

Draco snorted at hearing her mimic his tone as she threw his words to her last night back at him this morning. “It’s a bit complicated, Re-Gin-er, Weasley. It’s going to take a while to explain. Do you want to get dressed first?”

Ginny glanced down at her pajamas, which were flannel and really quite modest. “Have you got a problem with the way I’m dressed?”

“Well, you are a bit distracting, all rumpled and cozy looking. The last time I saw you like that-“

Ginny held up a hand to cut him off. “Not again in this lifetime Malfoy. Make yourself…well, have a seat. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Ginny made her way back to the bedroom and shut the door behind her. She sat down on the bed for a moment to collect her thoughts. She felt she was taking it rather well that the wizard on the top of the Ministry’s wanted list had broken into her flat. Oh son of Medusa! I have the most notorius Death Eater in Britain sitting in my living room and he’s seen me wearing flannel pajamas with yellow ducks on them. No wonder he wasn’t worried about me taking him in. What am I going to do, beat him into submission with my fuzzy pink slipper?

Ginny changed quickly into jeans and a tee shirt. She suddenly found herself standing in front of the mirror in her room, studying her reflection and trying to tame her unruly red mane.

“Don’t worry Dear. He already thinks you look lovely,” said the mirror knowingly.

Ginny put down the brush and looked indignant. “I really could care less about how he thinks I look.”

“Sure you don’t, Dear,” replied the mirror smugly.

“You’ll want to watch that sass if you don’t want to end up reflecting dust and cobwebs in the broom shed back at the burrow where you came from.”

“No need to get nasty!” cried the mirror as Ginny stalked from the room.

Ginny walked back into the room and caught Draco examining the many pictures on her mantel. “You should recognize most of those people.”

Draco glanced up at her as she spoke and then his eyes went back to the picture he held in his hand. “Yes. I take it from the looks of this picture that your brother, what was his name? The one with the glasses-“

“Percy.”

“Yes, Percy. I always did have a hard time keeping the older ones straight. I take it he married the Clearwater girl after all?” he asked, holding the picture out to her.

Ginny took the picture from him and set it back on the mantel. She glanced briefly at the many pictures of her friends and family, most in stages of either smiling and laughing or waving up at her from the frames. “Yes he did. And Bill-“

“The one with the long hair that worked for Gringott’s?”

“Yes. He married Fleur Delacour.”

Draco whistled appreciatively. “A veela. Nice catch. What about the one who wrangled dragons?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Charlie. Charlie is still a bachelor but he’s been dating Nymphadora Tonks forever now. In fact, she’s related to you isn’t she? A cousin?”

“We don’t claim mudbloods and muggle lovers in my family, Red. Her mother was disowned years ago. Besides, doesn’t she sport pink hair?”

Ginny took great delight in shooting Draco’s own sneer at him. “Shows what you know. Tonks’ hair is purple right now…And don’t call me that.”

Draco snorted, turning back to the pictures. He glanced over them all and said in a far-off voice, “You’re very lucky, Weasley, that you didn’t loose anyone you cared about.”

“But I did,” said Ginny, picking up the picture of Seamus Finnigan that was winking cheekily at her. She stroked the frame with a sad smile and turned to Draco. “We lost many friends although I was lucky enough not to loose any of my family. Other people weren’t so lucky. I thought of you when I heard about your mother. I know that had to be hard. And then to lose Crabbe and what happened to Goyle…”

“I don’t want to talk about Greg.” He gave her a harsh glance and Ginny decided she didn’t care to travel that road at the moment and let it go. Looking again at the pictures, he picked another one up. “Ah, now I remember these two. And what are the identical devils up to now?”

“If you are referring to Fred and George, then they are up to the same thing as always, practical jokes and pranks. Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes is doing quite well. They’re both married as well. To the Patil twins. Fred married Pavarti and George married Padma.”

“Twins married to twins. Sounds like a practical joke in itself.” Draco snickered a bit and set the picture back in its place. “Actually I always secretly admired those two. They were brilliantly evil, and always managed to get away with it looking like heroes.”

Ginny chuckled. “Brilliantly evil, what an apt description of those two particular brothers. I guess you aren’t going to ask about Ron and Hermione, then?”

Draco made a face. “I don’t need to. I read about the wedding in the paper. I’d say they deserve each other but I’m sure you’d take it as a compliment. Is it safe to assume then that you have several nieces and nephews then?”

Ginny poured herself another cup of coffee. “Not really. Bill and Fleur have a son, and Percy and Penelope have two. Padma and Parvati are both pregnant, so we’ll be having at least two new additions in another few months. Sometimes I have to wonder about just how much togetherness those four indulge in, but I’m not sure I want to know the answer. Ron and Hermione don’t seem to be willing to accommodate my mother’s desire for grandchildren at the moment though.”

“What about you and Potter?”

The question was so out of the blue, Ginny choked on the sip of coffee in her mouth. Draco pounded on her back while she coughed. When she could breath again she sputtered, “Bloody hell, Malfoy, are you trying to kill me?”

“Not exactly what I had in mind, no, especially after seeing you in those duckie pajamas.” A glance at his face showed a rather perverted leer and wiggling eyebrows directed at her. Ginny’s face was suddenly very hot and she didn’t know who she was angrier at, Malfoy, for jabbing at her about the pj’s or herself for coloring up like a school witch.

Straightening up, Ginny leaned an elbow on the mantel and glared at Draco. “Ok, the little pleasantries are very nice, but it’s so not you, Draco. You’re ruining my image of the cold ruthless Death Eater. What would your colleagues think if they heard you asking about Weasley marriages and births?”

“Likely that I was trying to get into your knickers.” He replied, giving her a smirk. “In fact, I’m not sure that’s a bad idea. Your knickers always were more interesting off that on.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow and pinned Draco with an icy stare. Once again, long moments passed, and once again, Draco found himself giving in to the battle of wills and sighing.

“Voldemort is alive.”

Ginny stared at him blankly for a moment and then shook her head as if to clear it. “Excuse me; I thought I heard you say the Dark Lord is alive.”

“You heard properly. I was summoned to see him just last night.”

Ginny gave Draco a dark look, and settled herself in a chair by the hearth. “What sort of scam is this Malfoy? Whatever it is, it’s not going to work. Just because I let you walk yesterday doesn’t mean I’m an easy mark. I was there when Voldemort was destroyed, remember? I saw the puddle of green slime that was all that was left when Harry finished him.”

“I was there too, wasn’t I? I saw the same thing you did. I know it would be impossible for him to return yet again. And yet, the impossible has happened. He is alive. He is very weak, but that won’t last long, I suspect.”

Ginny set her coffee cup down and leaned forward, looking earnestly at him. “Look Draco, this is me you’re talking to here, not some Auror off the streets. Why don’t you just be upfront and tell me what this is all about instead of spinning this silly story? Even for you, this is too outlandish.”

“I swear Ginny, it’s true.” He cursed under his breath as Ginny just leaned back in the chair and tapped her fingers on the arm, all the while keeping that incredulous look on her face.

Running a hand through his hair, Draco turned his back to her. A few seconds later, he turned back to her and strode across the room to stand directly in front of her. “Perhaps this will make you believe I’m telling the truth.”

Ginny looked down at the arm he had shoved under her nose and suddenly she felt faint. There, on the inside of his forearm, was the dark mark. And it had turned from the normal black of the tattoo to blood red.

“No one can do that but him, Ginny, you know that. And he couldn’t even do this last night. I was summoned by owl. This means he’s already growing stronger.”

Ginny actually felt the blood drain from her face as it registered what she was looking at. She grabbed his arm and stared. She whispered, stricken, “Bloody hell, Malfoy .I…I don’t see how this is possible. Harry destroyed him. I saw it happen. It…it isn’t possible!”

“It is possible. It’s happening.”

Ginny suddenly shoved his arm back at him and let go of it as if it were a hot potato. The look of amazement was gone from her face, replaced with a glare directed at Draco.

“Even if it is true, and mind you, I’m not saying I believe you, but even if it is, why are you here telling me this? Why aren’t you dancing with joy over the fact that your master has survived? Doesn’t this mean you can start your efforts to take over again? All the terrorizing of muggles and muggle-borns?”

Draco rolled his eyes. This was the age old argument between the two of them, rearing its ugly head once more. He didn’t have time for this just now. He’d wasted enough time with the idle pleasantries, trying to make her feel more comfortable and not suspicious of his presence. To waste any time on this argument that would never be resolved between the two of them would be to lose valuable time. Time he didn’t have.

“You’ve never understood have you? How many times do I have to tell you? No one started out wanting to kill anyone. All we’ve ever wanted was for pure-blood to be protected, to receive the proper respect from those who aren’t. To not have to be afraid of muggles finding out about us. It doesn’t make sense for wizards and witches to have to hide.”

“Yes, I remember all your ridiculous arguments about pure blood and superiority. Hogwash, all of it. And if I remember correctly, despite all the protests you made about not wanting to hurt people, that’s exactly what it amounted to in the end.”

Draco clenched his fists in frustration. Leave it to Ginny to drive him beyond the ability to control his temper. “Damn it all, yes, it went too far. Yes, we did things we didn’t want to do. Our parents put all their eggs into Voldemort’s basket, and by the time we were all old enough to know what was going on, we found ourselves under the control of a madman. There were only a few who were blind to what a lunatic he was. But by then there wasn’t anything we could do but follow his orders or die ourselves.”

Ginny gave him a skeptical look. “I suppose there was no way any of you might have sacrificed a little hide to defy him, would you?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “No, none of us loved muggles and mudbloods enough to die, Ginny. You know better than that. It’s in the Death Eaters’ nature to survive at all costs.”

“Well then I guess you all must have been very glad that Harry destroyed him then, aye?”

“As much as it galls me to admit it, yes, Potter did us a favor when he vanquished the Dark Lord. There were at least a dozen plots through out the death eater ranks to do the same at the time. I was involved in one of them myself. He saved us the trouble, and knowing what I know now, probably saved our skins as well.”

“I’m sure he’d be thrilled to hear that.” Ginny said wryly.

“I’ll be sure to thank him when I see him.” Draco said sarcastically, “Listen, Red, I’m trying to tell you that Voldemort is alive and while he’s not well physically at the moment, I’m sure he’ll rectify that as soon as possible, although that is not our biggest problem at the moment.”

Ginny looked incredulous. “It’s not? Well, forgive me but I fail to see what could possibly be a bigger problem.”

“Well, how about the fact that he’s even more insane than he was before?”

“It’s not possible to be more insane. Enough beating around the bush, Draco. If you’ve something to tell me, then spell it out now, else I’ll go back to believing this is all some sort of elaborate plot and haul you in now.”

Draco sneered. She was as bold and confident as she’d ever been. “I hope you don’t think I’d go quietly, Red.”

“Don’t call me that! And what are you going to do Draco? You’re in my flat, within my wards. The only way you could get away would be to kill me. Are you going to Adavra Kedavra me in order to escape? Can you?”

Ginny knew as she met his eyes that she’d been lulled into a feeling of security by his affable mood. She’d forgotten this was Draco Malfoy she was talking to. She knew that once more she’d failed some inner test when his gray eyes iced over once more and he closed in on her. When he was so close to her that they were practically touching, she raised her face to the man who was looking down at her, refusing to back down or away from the challenge his body language was issuing.

“You of all people should know, Red, what I’m capable of in order to assure my own survival. I can do whatever I have to do, even to you. And I don’t intend to spend any time at all in the Ministry Dungeon. Understand? This is too important, even more important than you.”

“Well, as I said, some things never change, do they?”

His eyes pinned her with an even colder look and Ginny struggled to suppress the chill that ran down her back. Any question she’d had in her mind as to whether or not Draco would hesitate to harm her was answered. He would have never been as weak as she had been the day before in the pub. Had their situations been reversed, Ginny would have found herself looking through the bars of a cell right now.

They stared at each other for what seemed like an endless moment. Then she sighed.

“This is an endless argument between us, Draco, and I for one, don’t see a resolution to it. So, instead of spending the rest of the day debating semantics, why we just assume I believe you and you tell me what it is you want to tell me?”

Draco exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Hurting Ginny was not something he wanted to do today.

“You have to help me stop him.”

She nodded. “Of course. We’ll go see Harry now. You can show him the mark, and tell him what you’ve told me.”

“NO!” he shouted. “Don’t you realize that Potter will never believe me? He’ll throw me in the dungeon as soon as he sees me. Ginny, I don’t have time to convince him I’m telling the truth. He’ll think it’s a plot and by the time you’re able to get him to listen, it will be too late.”

Ginny knew he was right. The second Draco Malfoy stepped into Harry’s line of sight there’d be a duel of epic proportions.

“Well then I really don’t know how I can help you, Draco.”

Draco knew this was the moment of truth. He had to convince her to do something that he wouldn’t do himself in her shoes. Trust him.

He absentmindedly rubbed his arm and said, “I don’t have a lot of time. There’s something I need to do, right away. It will keep his eyes off me long enough for me to tell you everything and come up with some sort of plan. I need something from you, without too many questions in order to do that though, and you aren’t going to like it.”

Ginny twisted her mouth in the semblance of a smile. “I already don’t like this. But I suppose after having you in my flat all morning without notifying the Ministry means I have no choice but to go along. What is it?”

“I need you to get the Death Eaters out of Azkaban.”

“You can’t be serious!” Ginny exclaimed, but when she looked at him, she knew he was very serious, indeed. She sighed loudly and rubbed a hand across her face. “Bloody hell, Malfoy!”