Many thanks to Alexandria Malfoy for her quick and fabulous beta job, and much love to BlueJeanJunkie for all her support and encouragement. HBP spoilers.


Lantern Walks

Ginny steps outdoors, lantern in hand. Wind and snow swirl around her, whistling softly past her ears. She closes her eyes for a brief moment and takes a deep breath, letting the chill evening air in and out of her lungs. It is nearly Christmas, the last day of school before the children go back home for the holidays, and the joyous cacophony within the castle seems in stark contrast to the melancholy she always feels at this time of year.

It is the eighth anniversary of the end of the Second War. It was eight years ago that Harry Potter put a permanent end to Voldemort's near reign of terror. Homes, businesses and lives were rebuilt, and everything was falling back into place; the war was soon becoming just another far-off piece of history to learn about and forget. She can see it dimming from the memories of her students with every passing year. Part of her wants desperately to reproach her children for letting the memory fade, for their increasing indifference to the sacrifice and hurt that she and her family and friends endured during those long years of despair and destruction. And still, another part of her is glad for their carefree innocence, hoping that they will never have to experience the deadly hatred and foolishness that had fuelled the war. Eight years is practically a lifetime to them, but for Ginny, sometimes eight years ago seems more like yesterday.

She can still point out the exact spots around the school grounds where her friends fell when the final, crucial battles took place on their doorstep, and she both prides and hates herself for retaining such macabre recollections.

"Ready, Professor Weasley?" asks the Headmistress, breaking Ginny's reverie.

Ginny nods, taking her customary place at the rear. She lights her lantern and holds it aloft, tacitly instructing the handful of students around her to do the same. The sky is just now darkening, and the lanterns cast hazy yellow patterns all around them.

Headmistress McGonagall assumes the lead and begins walking.

The lantern walk is an annual tradition started by Minerva McGonagall when she accepted the position of Headmistress upon Hogwarts's reopening seven and a half years ago. It is her way of honouring the memories of the slain. Though she had not thought to make the walks mandatory, the first year the tradition began, she had been joined by almost the entire student population. Then, she had explained to them that the lanterns in the dusk represented the unwavering light of the human spirit in the face of darkness. This is what she tells the smattering of students with her now.

There is some hushed chatter when Firenze makes his way through the group to walk next to the Headmistress. Ginny doesn't have to quiet them, however, as silence descends over the group as soon as Firenze begins to sing.

It is a song Ginny has heard before; both she and Firenze have gone on the walks since the first year. She has never understood the words, but she is nonetheless glad for the centaur's company. He is a creature close to the earth and understands the nature of the world far better than any of the rest of them, and his presence comforts her, especially as they near their first stop.

They approach a section of the wall that surrounds the school and eventually come to a halt where names have been etched in memory of those former Hogwarts students and staff who fell in the War. Some of the students lift up their lanterns to illuminate the wall, to see if they can find names they recognise.

Ginny doesn't need the light. Her fingers have long since memorised the locations of each name she has traced sadly before - Percy, Seamus, Hagrid and numerous others she regrets not knowing well enough.

Before long, they are walking again, their lanterns lighting the way. Their feet make little sound over the thick layer of newly-fallen snow as they pass the Quidditch pitch, where the House banners flap vigorously in the wind.

As they round the pitch and near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Ginny's eyes almost instinctively search for the last person she wants to see. He has not come for the past two years, and it unsettles her, though not more so than the fact that she has become so accustomed to his being in the shadows of the trees that she has begun to seek him out.

_______________

One

Ginny trails behind the rest of the group, holding her lantern far away from herself, hoping no one will turn around and see the tears streaming down her face. She knows that she has no reason to worry what the others will think of her since she can hear quiet sobs and sniffles ahead, but she tells herself it would be unbecoming for the students to see a professor in training unable to keep her emotions in check.

In truth, she tries to keep her face hidden because she hates to show any sign of weakness. It is, after all, what got her into trouble as a silly little girl in her first year at Hogwarts, and she rather hopes that her first year as a teacher at Hogwarts will be vastly more successful.

They skirt the edge of the Forbidden Forest, nearing the end of their walk. A flash of white in Ginny's periphery vision startles her, but when she turns to peer as far as she dares into the forest, she sees nothing. The rest of the group does not appear to have seen anything, and Ginny attributes the incident to a trick of the lights.

_______________

Two

"He is here with my leave," Professor McGonagall says quietly, when Ginny sees someone in the forest paralleling their path around the school grounds. "I've asked him to join us, but he'd rather stay out of sight, and understandably so," says the Headmistress with a slight shake of her head, though she does not elaborate on his identity.

Ginny furrows her brow, trying to make out a face among the shadows, but he disappears, as though aware of her scrutiny, and soon, all Ginny sees are dark trees.

_______________

Three

She has forgotten about it until now, and Ginny finds herself paying more attention to the leaves rustling in the forest than Firenze's songs or Professor McGonagall's speech.

Her diligence is rewarded, however, when she finally recognises him. She gasps audibly, turning her colleagues and students' attention squarely on her. A look from the Headmistress quells Ginny's initial inclination to kick up a fuss about a former Death Eater's presence mere meters away. Stammering, Ginny lies that has stubbed her toe on a rock hidden underneath the snow.

Appeased, the rest of the group returns to the task at hand. When Ginny looks back up into the forest, he is gone yet again.

With nothing to do but worry and wonder, Ginny throws her handful of soil into the garden and watches absentmindedly as her students finish planting their evergreen.

_______________

They come to the end of their walk at the garden, situated between the Forbidden Forest and the school's vegetable patch.

The Ministry had originally suggested that they erect a stone statue of Harry Potter there for being the hero and saviour of the wizarding world. Harry nixed the idea right away, much to the Minister's dismay, and eventually the Hogwarts staff came to the consensus of creating a garden on school grounds to cultivate new life in commemoration of the lives lost.

Ginny stifles laughter when a first year admires a mass of large snapdragons just a little too closely and comes away with red, throbbing finger. Although no one ever really ascertained what the late Potions master's favourite plant was, the snapdragons were put in the garden in Severus Snape's memory. As though imbued with his testy spirit, the flowers bristle and lash out at the slightest provocation.

Charmed to maintain the ideal conditions for blooms year-round by Ginny and Professor Sprout, the garden is full of these kinds of plants, either the favourites or somehow having the characteristics of those long-gone.

In a short row at the back of the garden are seven evergreen shrubs, one planted each year during the lantern walk and visited throughout the year by those who had a hand in its growth.

Professor Sprout is waiting with an evergreen sapling for the students to plant in the back row. As the children busy themselves, Ginny lets her mind wander.

She remembers being incensed that Professor McGonagall had allowed Draco Malfoy on school grounds again following the war. She'd hated him then, despised everything he associated himself with, and wished the absolute worst on him for starting the war. In her mind, he was the ultimate catalyst for the war; without him, the Death Eaters would have never gotten into the school in her fifth year, Bill would have never been mauled, Snape wouldn't have been forced to kill the Headmaster, and the Order wouldn't have floundered for so long without Dumbledore's essential leadership.

Ginny knows now, and probably knew then, too, that that explanation was far too simplistic and, in fact, downright stupid. Of course the war wasn't his fault; numerous long talks with Professor McGonagall had shown her that. He'd simply been yet another deceived pawn in Voldemort's game, like so many others.

Of course, it had taken seeing his face to show her that, too.

_______________

Four

She is deliberately staying behind this year.

After wishing her students a happy Christmas as they re-enter the castle, Ginny extinguishes her lantern, whirls around and stalks back toward the Forbidden Forest. She doesn't know what she is going to say or do, though she is vaguely aware that she has her wand out and both her fists are clenched. She imagines that if he's still in the vicinity, she'll try to run Draco Malfoy off the grounds somehow, and if it takes hexing him into oblivion, she's more than happy to do it. It's an idiotic plan, of course, but she's done stupider things before.

Ginny stops in her tracks, as though she's run into an invisible wall. He is kneeling with his back to her in the garden, saying something she cannot hear to the flowers.

Her grip on her wand loosens; she knows she cannot in good conscience hex anyone while his back is turned.

He lifts his head and seems to sense her presence. Getting up with slight effort, he turns around to face her, his arms spread open, as if to invite her in.

Ginny lowers her wand arm, startled at his drawn countenance. His is hardly the face of evil she's come to imagine. She has not taken a good look at him since their school days and in the passing years, her mind has unconsciously given him harder lines and colder stares. It is the face in front of her now that will likely stay with her forever; he is no longer pointy or shrewd, but just sad.

"Why are you here?" she asks after what seems like an eternity has passed.

He stares as though he has never considered this question before.

The silence disquiets her, though she gets the feeling he could stand here staring forever.

"Please leave. You're not allowed to be here," she says. She hopes she comes off as combative. Anything, even a duel, would be better than the look in his eyes at this point.

He only nods and disappears into the forest, leaving Ginny thoroughly confused and unnerved.

_______________

Five

He has crept into her thoughts unbidden all year long and Ginny is determined to put a stop to it today.

She ushers the students back into the castle after the lantern walk and briefly considers her madness before making her way back towards the garden where she hopes she will see him again and for the last time.

As she'd expected, he is there, kneeling in the garden again.

Intuitively, Ginny keeps her distance; he is talking, but not to her, and she suspects it is a conversation not meant for her ears.

He falls silent after a while, and when Ginny can stand it no longer, she clears her throat. She sees his shoulders sag, as if in a heavy sigh, and he turns to look at her.

"Why have you come?" she asks.

He stands and steps aside, showing that he was kneeling in front of some red snapdragons, and she finally understands.

Ginny opens her mouth to say something, but he holds up his hands.

"I'll leave," he says hoarsely.

Before she can make up her mind as to whether or not to stop him, he is gone. Ginny remains standing in place for a few moments, not noticing the snow that has begun to fall. She walks towards the flowers they'd planted years before for Snape.

Of course he would come visit Snape here. The old Potions master's body was never found, and so he was never given a grave. Ginny suddenly feels like a fool for chasing Malfoy away, for depriving him of his chance to pay his respects to his mentor.

As she steps closer, she notices that he has laid among the snapdragons a small, white narcissus.

_______________

Six

She refuses to have this weighing on her conscience. When he comes tonight, she will apologise, leave him be and finally be able to get his haunted visage out of her mind; it is an image that troubles her much more than she cares to admit.

It has begun to snow heavily by the end of the lantern walk, and though the Headmistress gives her a curious look when she says she will remain outside for the time being, Ginny is adamant on going through with her plan.

After an hour, the warming charm on her cloak begins to wear off, and Ginny is forced to admit that he will not come.

She trudges back towards the castle and gives the garden a long, searching look before going inside.

_______________

Seven

She has convinced herself that it was the weather that kept him away last year.

Long after the lantern walk is over, Ginny stands in front of an empty garden, fighting tears she cannot understand why are welling in her eyes.

"Perhaps you scared him away, dear," the Headmistress muses behind her.

Ginny feels Professor McGonagall's hand on her shoulder. "Why did he come those first few years?" Ginny asks, having never gotten a satisfactory answer out of Malfoy.

"Oh, for the same reason we all come," Professor McGonagall replies lightly. "Peace."

_______________

As has been her habit the past few years, Ginny remains outside while the Headmistress leads everyone else back inside after the evergreen has been planted. She searches the surrounding area, still hoping Malfoy will turn up. She has long given up on apologising; now, all she wants are answers.

She goes inside the greenhouse to get a pot of narcissus she has been growing at home, and, hoping she hasn't made a gross misjudgement, Floos herself to his house.

_______________

"Why are you here?" he asks when she turns up in his fireplace.

Ginny hesitates. He offers her his hand as she tries as gracefully as she can to get out of the hearth.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm sorry," she says.

He lets go of her hand. "For what?"

Ginny doesn't know how to answer that question. Instead, she presents him with her potted flowers. "I was going to plant these next to the snapdragons," she says. "But I thought you might like to do it instead."

He looks at the flowers, and then back at her, and in a moment of madness she thinks she could get lost in his eyes.

_______________

Together, they transfer the potted narcissus into the ground next to Snape's snapdragons, which, for once, are calm.

They sit side by side in darkness and silence.

"They're my mother's favourite flowers," he says finally. "Her namesake."

Ginny nods, not knowing if she ought to respond.

"She and Severus were great friends," he explains, though she has not asked. "No one could find their bodies after. I like to believe they're off holidaying somewhere exotic and having the time of their lives, but - Well, that's just stupid, isn't it?"

She wants to tell him no, but can only manage to squeeze his arm in an ineffectual gesture of comfort. She wonders if anyone has offered him any solace since the war's end. She suspects she might be the first, and feels doubly foolish for trying her hardest to get rid of him when he tried to come to the garden before.

"Will you come next year?" she asks, her voice filled with a hopefulness she didn't know she held.

"If you'd like me to," he replies.

"It's not the same without you," she says, only half-joking.

"I'll do my best," he says, smiling at her.

She realises that for as long as she had gone to school with him, she has never really seen him smile. She returns it with a grin.

Ginny does not think to ask him any more questions; her words seem trivial in contrast to the fact that he has obviously found what he had been coming for. He is looking at the flowers now, and she steals a surreptitious glance at him; she is heartened to see a trace of serenity in his face.

A chill begins to settle around them. Draco lets out a soft sigh. "You'd better get inside," he says, standing up reluctantly and holding out his hands to help her up.

It is late, and all the students should be in bed by now. "Do you want to come inside the castle to warm up a bit? The elves make really good hot chocolate," she adds rather hastily.

He nods, and they walk towards the main doors of the school, with her hand still in his. It does not occur to either of them to let go.

_______________

It is the ninth anniversary of the Second War's end. Ginny has not seen nor heard from him since she invited him into her office for hot chocolate a year ago. She has not expected anything more or less, and she tells herself it doesn't bother her in the slightest; since when were they friends, anyway?

Still, she cannot seem to stop herself from furtively craning her neck this way and that to try to catch a glimpse of him among the trees.

She begins to get antsy when the children plant their evergreen. And finally, she has to admit to herself that she's missed his company all this time, even though they'd only really spent half a night together a year ago. But in that half a night, she'd learned his life story, his mannerisms and his temperament, and had graduated from feeling animosity to pity to friendly affection to - well, it won't do her any good to go there.

Professor McGonagall pats her on the arm before taking the group back into the castle.

Ginny remains in the garden, feeling more and more ridiculous that she is even standing out here at all, waiting for someone she probably never should have gotten to know, much less fallen in love with. She cringes at the impracticality of it all; how could she have possibly developed feelings for Draco Malfoy?

Still, she waits.

_______________

He never made her any promises, but she still feels the disappointment of a broken vow.

A large owl, so magnificent and disdainful it could only belong to Draco, hoots impatiently at her, holding its leg out begrudgingly so she can detach the piece of parchment tied to it. She releases the bird of its burden and watches it take off and disappear into the clouds before unfurling the note.

Ginny,

I'm sorry to tell you that I cannot make it tonight. I have something very important to see to.

D.M.

She reads it several times over, wondering if there's any other way to read into his brusque words. There isn't, she finally decides; he clearly has other priorities and has no interest in picking up where they left off. She is mildly surprised that it hurts as much as it does.

Folding the parchment carefully and tucking it into her robe pocket, she sighs and watches her breath dissipate into the cold air. She steals a last glance at the empty garden, letting her last hope slip away.

Perhaps, she muses, perhaps it is better this way.

_______________

The slow trek back to her office gives her enough time to thoroughly convince herself that she was never in love with him at all. She's hated him without reason before; she supposes it is equally likely that she could fancy herself in love with just as little justification.

Of course, the pangs in her heart tell her quite a different story, but she is intent on ignoring those. Rationalising her feelings is far easier than accepting the fact that he's quite clearly given her the brush-off.

It is her rather own fault, then, that she is totally unprepared for what awaits her inside her office.

Dozens of lit candles adorn her desk and shelves, giving the room a soft, dreamy glow instead of the harsh lamp light she has become accustomed to. More importantly, Draco Malfoy is sitting in the middle of it all, his hair illumined by candlelight, giving her a fleeting impression of a beautiful fallen angel.

Her breath catches at the sight, and suddenly the hope she left behind has soared back in full force, aching in her chest. "You," she breathes.

He nods.

"But you said..." she trails off, and pulls out his note from her robe pocket. She's looked it over so many times there's no possible way she could have misread his words.

He gestures to his handiwork, and she feels a laugh of relief bubbling up in her throat. So this is what he had to attend to.

"I realised," he says, getting up and gradually closing the distance between them, "that I've never thanked you properly."

"So you turned my office into a fire hazard?" she blurts out nervously and mentally smacks herself immediately afterwards.

He laughs, and it is a brilliant laugh that makes her want to fall in love with him a little more.

"I'm afraid you've missed the point entirely," he says, smiling as he sweeps a loose lock of hair away from her eyes.

"What is it, then?" she asks, vaguely aware that her breath is coming in slight shudders.

"The point is," he says, his voice soft and low. "The point is that I've gone a year being an absolute idiot, and that it took me a year to realise what I should have known as soon as I stepped into your office for hot chocolate. I'm in love with you," he ends simply.

She is almost certain that the level of brightness in the room has gone up a few notches from the glow she feels emanating from her cheeks. She has heard those words before, from the lips of other men, but never have they made her want to fall to her knees and laugh and cry at the same time. But she does none of these things because he's pressed a kiss to her lips, pushing all extraneous thoughts out of her mind, and nothing else matters now but how he feels against her.

A lifetime and a half later, they break apart breathlessly, and it is only with utmost concentration that Ginny can remember her name at all.

"Thank you," he whispers in her ear, his breath lingering at her cheek and sending shivers coursing anew through her body.

"For what?" she asks hazily. There is nothing he owes her, least of all, gratitude. After all, it is he who has brought her here. It is not about the garden or the lantern walk any longer, nor had it been for a long time. But it is only now that she realises that from the moment she saw his face, it was him she came for all along.

His lips brush her temple. "For you," he murmurs, lifting her chin to meet her eyes. "You are my peace."