He didn’t say a word as he shrugged on his coat and heavy woolen scarf, preparing for the work day in tense silence. He drank a stale cup of coffee while gazing at the floor, purposefully not looking at the woman who sat in the large armchair across the room. After tiring of the lukewarm liquid, he sat the half empty mug on the counter and walked swiftly out the front door without a backward glance.

This was the routine. Their anger erupted in the evenings, only to cool into bitter silence the following morning. They used to try to compromise when the children were young. Now however, with all out of the house save one, this unspoken truce had been disregarded. It had not always been like this, of course. All couples start out perfect and happy in the beginning, before poisonous thoughts seep into the mind and proceed to destroy the heart. Their poison was the past. His nightmares. Her doubts. His regret and anger. Her efforts to forget.

Ginny rose from her chair a few minutes after the door slammed shut, either by wind or by force Ginny did not know. There was no use dwelling on the argument. This was just how her life was. The blissful years of the early days of marriage were long gone, nothing more than memories captured in the few moving portraits around their house. She had known it was going to be difficult when she married him. She had always hoped, however, that in the end, love would win. That her life could be perfect because she was marrying the famous boy of her childhood dreams.

If only it could have been that simple.

Ginny continued tidying up the mess of their most recent fight: the broken glass that had been shattered against the wall, the papers that had been pushed off the kitchen table, the picture frame that had fallen behind the couch, too embarrassed by such displays of anger to remain so visible. It was not that their most recent fight had been any more heated than normal, Ginny considered while sweeping away the last of the glass shards, it was just that she was reaching her limit. She couldn’t take this any longer. There was something wrong between them that no amount of love or compromise could fix. Maybe after a year or so, they could try again. For now, however, happiness was impossible and they both knew it.

Sighing, Ginny made her way to the shower. She needed the steam if she ever wished to clear her thoughts enough to make a mature decision. Her reflection in the large bathroom mirror caught her eye. She mostly avoided mirrors these days and could barely recognize the tired stranger who looked at her. Dark circles surrounded eyes that once sparkled with life but now were dull with exhaustion. Fine lines were beginning to etch her face, creating delicate webbing from her eyes and around her mouth. These lines seem to tell more stories of sadness and anger than of laughter. Her hair, a chaotic mess, was still the vibrant Weasley red, but the gold tinge of youth had faded. The woman in front of her was no longer the smiling, joking girl of her school days. The thought brought bright, unshed tears to Ginny’s eyes.

After taking a quick shower, Ginny threw a few things into a large canvas purse. She was just going to get out of the house for a few days. She needed that to clear her head. She was positive he would not find himself missing her. She considered writing a note, but couldn’t think of anything to say. She didn’t know how long she would need to be alone and she highly doubted he would even attempt to look for her even if a note were not left.

Perhaps it was whatever made her fall for him in the first place, perhaps just marital commitment. Either way, she couldn’t bring herself to just leave. So, compromising, she scribbled that she would be in contact with him when she was ready to talk.

There, Ginny thought, placing the Post-it note on the fridge before heading for the door. She highly doubted Harry would care that she was gone. He was probably going to stay at her brother’s for a few days anyway. He always ran for Ron and Hermione whenever things got particularly bad with the relationship. It was one of the many things that bothered Ginny about marrying her brother’s best friend. He always had someone to run to. Where did that leave her?

The brisk wind slapped her face as she stepped out the front door. Though she loved the location of their small house, with the gorgeous, unobstructed views and the quiet peace of the country, living on a hill without trees definitely did have its drawbacks. The wind was certainly one of them. Pulling her coat closer, Ginny Apparated.

The small pub was loud when she stepped in from the back door. The Yodeling Dwarf was one of the few places in town that belonged solely to the wizarding world. Due to the low concentration of wizards in the area, there was no need for much more than this, a small but friendly place to gossip, relax, and have a pint of delicious butterbeer. Ginny sat at the worn bar, relieved to be out of the house at last.

“What’ll it be fer you, miss?” the bartender asked politely, drying off a glass mug.

“Just some tea, please.”

He brought her a steaming cup a few moments later. Ginny breathed in its warm aroma before taking a careful sip of the boiling liquid. It felt nice as it crept down her throat, warming her entire body as it went. The strong taste brought with it a bit of liveliness that Ginny thought had been lost in the fight of last night.

She was just beginning to think that perhaps she could have a good day when she looked up to see the back of a head she certainly did not want to see. Though she had rarely caught but passing glimpses of him on the covers of various cheap magazines since her days at school, the appearance was undeniable. The pale blond hair had been perfectly placed, the expensive robes were not showing a speck of dust, and Ginny had no doubt the cologne that wafted towards her cost more than her entire wardrobe.

Malfoy.

Ginny’s curiosity overcame her common sense as she peered over her cup at the blond head. She knew she should leave. She did not want to run into any school acquaintances looking like she just rolled out of bed, much less one that would make taunt her mercilessly for it.

“Can I help you?” a voice said, interrupting her thoughts with aristocratic precision.

The man had turned around during Ginny’s mental battle and was staring at her with cold, grey eyes. He hasn’t aged a day since he left school, Ginny thought, still gazing speechless at the face of her childhood enemy. His hair looked different, falling almost delicately around his face softening the sharp features. Ginny supposed that was because he was no longer applying near-lethal amounts of product like he had when they were younger.

“Excuse me…?” the man said again, uncertain of the silence that greeted his previous question.

No, it was not just the lack of gel that made him look different. His face was softer, lacking the hard, pointed features she remembered. She also noticed that his eyes weren’t grey at all but instead a light blue-green color. Maybe she just never looked at him close enough in school to notice these things.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ginny muttered quickly, hoping he didn’t think she was a complete idiot for just standing staring at him for the past few moments. She waited for the sarcastic comment that was surely on the man’s lips.

“It’s fine,” he answered. Ginny was shocked to hear no mockery in his voice. "Although you might want to purchase another cup of tea seeing how the majority of your cup is on the floor.”

“Oh.” Ginny could feel the hot blush of embarrassment creeping up her cheeks as she noticed that she indeed had spilled a great deal of tea on the floor. This couldn’t be the same person she went to school with. It was impossible. His voice remained polite and almost kind though Ginny was quite certain she had made an absolute fool of herself. The Draco Malfoy she knew would have verbally ripped her to shreds by now.

“I just thought… Well,” Ginny started, figuring if he hadn’t figured out who she was by now, she might as well ask. “I thought you were someone I went to school with.”

To her surprise, the man smiled. Not a smirk. Not a leer. Not a grimace. It was an actual smile with some hint of warmth and humor behind it. “I think you might be mistaking me. Unless you left Hogwarts a few years ago, that is. In that case, it would be very possible.”

Ginny laughed in spite of herself. “No, I left that school quite a long time ago. I was there during the war, actually.” Ginny knew this gave away her age, but this smiling man did not seem to mind as he took a seat next to her. It convinced her that she really must have been mistaken. After all, just because someone had money and blond hair didn’t make him a Malfoy.

“How fascinating,” he said, sounding truly interested. “I have tried to learn all I can about the final battle there, but Hogwarts very much wants to forget what happened that day. I’ve mainly learned what I know by first-hand accounts. It’s a shame that even my own fa-“

“Scorpius,” a cold voice said from somewhere behind Ginny.

The young man stopped mid-sentence and smiled apologetically. There was something familiar about that name though Ginny couldn’t quite place it.

“Well, who do we have here?”

That voice again. Ginny was sure she heard it somewhere. Maybe work? One of Harry’s associates? A parent of one of the children’s friends—

Ginny’s eyes widened in shock. It all fell into place. She swiveled on the barstool slowly and found herself face to face with one who could be none other than Draco Malfoy. His skin, pale enough to match his white-blond hair, showed few signs of age and his twisted sneer was the exact same as it had been in school. Though he was dressed in Muggle clothes, the dark navy slacks and white button up seemed to look perfect on him. His eyes, dark and mocking, took a quick assessment of Ginny’s appearance, from her jeans and sweater to her slightly worn wool jacket to her tangled mess of red curls. After finishing, the grey orbs were alight with mockery.

“I feel I should introduce you, but I didn’t catch your name…” the young man, Scorpius Draco had called him, said expectantly.

“Ginny Weasley,” Draco said, taking the hand that was not holding the mug and bowing over it rather extravagantly. “Or, I suppose, Potter now.” The cold smirk never left his face.

“Draco Malfoy,” Ginny said, hoping her voice held the same cold contempt that his had. “Or is it Goyle? Did you decide to take your husband’s name? I can’t remember.” She knew it was immature and childish to resort to petty insults like they were teenagers again, but something in his haughty tone made her blood boil.

Or maybe it was just the mentioning of her husband.

“Glad to see your wit is still intact,” Draco replied scathingly. “I see you have met my son. I hope you have taught him firsthand how utterly vile you Weasleys are. I’m afraid, however, that he must leave your company now.”

Scorpius looked from his father to Ginny, confused by the sudden violence of the exchange. When his father made his way to the back exit, Scorpius dared to give Ginny a small smile, his eyes asking the questions he could not, at least not while his father was within earshot. Ginny smiled, letting her eyes drop to her empty cup. As polite as the young Malfoy was, she had no intent of trying to make him stay.

Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, spared no backward glance toward the redhead sitting at the bar and made straight for the exit, enjoying the cool wind on his face. She certainly looked like a wreck, which pleased him to an extent. She must not have had a decent night’s sleep in weeks. He tried to smile at that, ignoring the depth of sadness that he had seen in her eyes.

Ginny sighed as she collapsed onto the small bed. The room she had rented above the Yodeling Dwarf was small with only a tiny desk against an otherwise bare wall and a bed which rested beside the battered dresser. Her clothes, all unpacked, now resided in only one drawer. This would certainly propose its own problems in the future, but for now Ginny was much too tired to care about her lack of garments.

Of course, she should have realized that the striking blond was Draco’s son. No two people on the planet could look that similar and not be related. She vaguely remembered the birth announcement in the Prophet, rejoicing over the birth of the newest heir to the Malfoy fortune. The Witch’s Mouth seemed to closely resemble a Malfoy family album during those first years, publishing every little accomplishment of the young child from his first steps to his first autograph. While Harry and Ginny had always relentlessly fought the press regarding their children, Draco and his silent wife seemed intent on keeping their son directly in that media spotlight. This continued until the scandal about Mrs. Astoria Malfoy was uncovered. Astoria’s crime was the involvement in an intense Muggle torturing project right after He fell, an attempt to reunite the scattered Death Eaters. Ginny was surprised she had eluded capture as long as she had. Then again, now it seemed that everyone over the age of thirty-five had a past that they wanted to hide. With this discovery, the focus shifted from the golden child to his mother. Astoria, unable to handle the stress, took to her bed almost immediately. Four months later, she was dead. The official story attributed this to her history of poor health. Ginny suspected that her departure from this world had been hastened by her husband, but her suspicions went unmentioned in The Prophet as well as the cheap tabloids like The Witch’s Mouth.

Ginny sighed and rolled over, tracing the patterns on the faded blue comforter. It was pointless to contemplate the Malfoy family history. The chances that she was going to run into that family again were about the same as her being mauled by an over-emotional Hippogiff. It just was not going to happen. Ginny yawned widely. The bed felt so comfortable; it was hard to focus her thoughts. Without bothering to undress or even pull back the covers, Ginny fell asleep, her hand resting on the light blue fleur-de-lis it had been tracing.

Darkness. Screams.

Her friends were falling, dying. She couldn’t help them.

She heard a voice yell her name, but it was impossible to see who.

She tried to respond but when she opened her mouth all that came out was cruel, high-pitched laughter.

Ginny awoke to complete darkness, her body completely drenched in cold sweat. Her sweater stuck uncomfortably to her back while beads of sweat condensed on her face. A dream, she told herself firmly. Just a dream. Just another dream. It wasn’t anything new; she had experienced similar nightmares on occasion since her first year at Hogwarts. The nightmares had grown more frequent after the battle at Hogwarts and had continued to plague her as she matured. She was accustomed to waking up in sweat-soaked pajamas, a silent scream on her lips, but that didn’t lessen the shaky feeling she experienced after waking from one.

Shaking her head slightly as if the simple action would be able to shake out some of the screams, Ginny got up from the bed and made way for the bathroom at the end of the hall. Thankfully, it was unoccupied and Ginny rushed gratefully inside. Ginny splashed the freezing water onto her face, washing away the sweat. It felt wonderful, as it always did. The cool water running onto her palms stopped the trembling in her hands. Deciding that was good enough for the present, Ginny made her way back to her room. Upon entering, she glanced to her right. The clock on the dresser stated it was six twenty. Ginny assumed it was in the AM hours due to the soft orange light that was beginning to glow behind the pulled curtains. Apparently, she had been more tired than she thought. Sleeping for twelve hours straight was not exactly her normal routine. Deciding that was more than enough rest, Ginny threw on some clean clothes and made her way down to the pub, hoping breakfast was better than the hasty dinner she had eaten prior to getting her room the previous day.

The Yodeling Dwarf was full of the busy morning commuters, all talking rapidly about business deals or with their noses stuck in the Daily Prophet. Ginny took a place at a small table in the corner, hoping she would be able to eat her breakfast in peace.

She was debating on what to order when a smooth voice interrupted her thoughts

“Might I suggest the vegetable omelet?” Looking up from the breakfast menu, Ginny was too surprised to be annoyed at the disruption and smiled slightly.

“Scorpius Malfoy, correct?” she said, extending her hand to the man who had taken a seat opposite her.

“How kind of you to remember, Mrs. Potter,” the young man replied, taking her hand warmly in his own.

“Please. Call me Ginny.”

Scorpius smiled, showing unnaturally white teeth. “Ginny it is then,” he continued. “I was hoping to find you here this morning.”

“Oh? Why is that?’

“I must be allowed to apologize on behalf of my father. He was very rude to you yesterday in a way that was most unlike him.” If Scorpius heard Ginny’s snort, he chose to ignore it. “He is not always the most tolerant person. I do hope that his impoliteness will not stop you from speaking with me.”

”Of course not!” Even if he is a complete git, Ginny added mentally. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“First of all,” He started with the calm aura of someone who is used to asking questions, “How do you know my father?”

Ginny was surprised Draco Malfoy had not ranted to his son about the Weasley family, considering how much he had hated them in school. “Well, we are… acquaintances from Hogwarts.” She thought that was a fair response. It would have been a lie to say they were friends, but saying they absolutely detested each other seemed a bit harsh.

“So you were in school during the Dark Lord’s rise to power?”

“Yes,” Ginny responded, slightly uneasy at Scorpius’s use of the same term the Death Eaters had used.

“Were you there during the final battle?” The blue tinted eyes seemed to glow with the excitement his tone did not portray.

Ginny was saved from answering his question, however, by the arrival of her food. The omelet did not smell as delicious as her mother’s cooking, but it was certainly edible. Hoping that Scorpius had been distracted from his interrogation, Ginny looked up and laughed, all unease vanishing immediately.

The look on Scorpius’s face was such an utter display of revulsion that Ginny thought her omelet had transformed into the entrails of some strange animal.

“I thought you recommended this?” Ginny said, taking a bite.

“Well yes,” Scorpius said, recovering his composure slightly, “simply because it is the only thing on the menu that even resembles edible food.”

Ginny swallowed. It wasn’t that bad.

“I must be going,” Scorpius said suddenly. Ginny wondered if it was because he was going to be sick over the sight of her eating the omelet. “But please, can we speak again soon?”

“Of course. Any time you wish.”

“Tomorrow evening then.”

“Agreed.”

With a quick smile and nod, Scorpius Malfoy rushed out the back door leaving a confused but smiling Ginny alone at the table in the corner, halfheartedly eating her omelet.

The next evening came quickly. Ginny sat at a small table by the window and waited for her young questioner to meet her. The Yodeling Dwarf was not as busy as it had been earlier, just a couple men and women scattered about talking quietly or reading the Prophet while sipping their tea. Ginny pulled a copy of the Witch’s Mouth from her bag and settled in to wait for Scorpius. She still did not quite know what to think about the young Malfoy. He was certainly polite and pleasant but he still belonged to a long tradition of cruelty and malice that could not have been lost on the latest generation.

Ginny’s musings on the boy were interrupted when Scorpius Malfoy entered and confidently walked to her table, a small but warm smile lighting up his pale face.

“Ms Ginny, what a pleasure to see you again,” he said softly, extending a hand to her. Considering his demeanor, Ginny was surprised he didn’t brush his lips against the back of her hand when she placed it in his. “I hope you are well?”

Ginny smiled. “Very well, thanks. How have you been? Your father has not banned you from meeting with me, I see.”

Scorpius’s smile faded for an instant. “He doesn’t exactly know that I have come to see you,” he stated softly, “But that is all beside the point.”

The waitress had stopped at their table and was quite obviously waiting for an order. She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“Erm,” Ginny started, feeling slightly uneasy since yesterday’s food choice had caused so much disgust for Scorpius. Her uncomfortable mutterings were silenced when Scorpius interjected.

“We won’t be eating here, thank you.”

Rolling her eyes, the waitress left rather abruptly. Ginny, confused, just looked down at her magazine.

“I cannot believe you read that garbage,” Scorpius said unexpectedly.

“It’s purely entertainment; I don’t actually take this stuff seriously.”

“Well, you should not have purchased it. By buying that filth, you have contributed to the slandering, repulsive culture that creates it.” The hatred in his voice was unmistakable. A sneer flashed on his lips. For the first time since their meeting, Scorpius seemed exactly like his father.

“Oh,” Ginny said, thrown off guard by his behavior, “Sorry, then.” Attempting to quickly change the subject, she inquired as to where they might be eating.

Scorpius stood and offered his arm to her, his normally kind demeanor returning. “We will be going someplace else.” He smiled, “It’s a surprise.”

Ginny hesitantly took his arm and instantly felt the unpleasant feeling of side-along Apparition. She had never been a great fan of Apparating; it always seemed to leave her nauseous. Once her feet hit the ground again at their destination, it took a few seconds to regain her balance. She was glad she had not eaten at the Yodeling Dwarf. If she had, she would have lost her meal on Scoripus’s gleaming shoes.

“I would like to welcome you to my house,” Scorpius said with a strong tenor of pride in his voice.

Ginny looked up. ‘House’ was an understatement; ‘palace’ was a little better. The entire landscape was dominated by a mansion of dark brick and gleaming marble. Gardens lined the pathway that lead up to the huge front door while white peacocks glanced around lazily at the new guests, seeming like pearls on a background of emerald velvet. The effect was breathtaking.

And more than a bit unnerving.

“What?” Ginny sputtered after regaining her senses. “You took me to your house? Can’t we go to a restaurant? Why here? Your father is--”

“My father isn’t here,” Scorpius interrupted. “Our cook has prepared some lovely grilled salmon that will convince you to never eat at that godforsaken inn again.”

Ginny reluctantly followed the young Malfoy into the house. Although she didn’t necessarily want to be in the same house that the Malfoy family had owned for generations, she did not want to be seen as whatever rude things that Draco Malfoy had undoubtly been filling his son’s head with. If it was just her and Scorpius it couldn’t be that bad. Draco Malfoy’s son, against all odds, seemed to have turned out a pleasant and well-balanced individual unlike the rest of the family.

When she was seated at the end of a sparkling dining table, she knew she had made the right decision. The smells that wafted from the kitchen area were to die for. Not to mention the room was unspeakably gorgeous with crystal chandeliers and pure white marble floors. Dominating the décor, however, was a huge painting of Roman ruin with clouds in the background that moved lazily across the deep blue sky. It was uncommonly serene for a man of Draco Malfoy’s tastes.

The feast was about to begin when a small house elf scurried into the room.

“Young Master Malfoy,” it squeaked with an impossibly low bow to Scorpius, “your--”

Ginny couldn’t hear the rest because she was distracted by a tall man in an impeccable black suit walked into the room from behind the elf. His silver hair gleamed unnaturally in the soft light of the chandeliers. He would have looked near angelic had it not been for the malicious sneer on his face.

“Why if it isn’t Mrs. Potter,” his voiced dripped with sarcasm. “What a pleasure it is to see you again. And in my own house, no less.”

Draco Malfoy was home.

He stood in the elaborate arched entrance of the dining room, his mouth tense and his eyes cold. Ginny was frozen in shock. Scorpius had promised her that he was out but this was obviously not the case. Draco just stared at her, his contempt making the small frown lines on his forehead grow more pronounced even in the soft lighting of the room.

The cold silence was eventually broken by Scorpius.

“I apologize for the surprise, Father,” his tone was smooth and calming, much like someone who was accustomed to intense situations, “would you care to join us?”

Draco, however, acted like he hadn’t heard his son.

“What brings you to my--” one side of his lips twitched up into the classic Malfoy smirk, “humble abode?”

“Your son invited me.” Ginny mentally cursed for not being able to come up with something just as bitingly sarcastic, but the presence of the younger Scorpius made her uncomfortable. If it was just the two of them, Draco and Ginny alone, she could revert to her childhood nasty retorts without remorse. Unfortunately, with Scorpius in the room she couldn’t make herself get into the verbal combat mode that his father was so accustomed to.

Adding to her discomfort was Draco Malfoy’s apparent sense of her mental dilemma. He laughed softly, mocking Ginny’s social incompetence. With one last hard look at his son, he left.

“I must apologize for my father,” Scorpius said immediately after his father left the room, “again. He had no right to be so impolite. It is very unlike him.”

Ginny would have laughed if the young man had not been so serious. Unlike Draco Malfoy to be rude? It had to be a joke.

Yet Scorpius did not laugh, instead he continued apologetically, “Please do not allow yourself to feel unwelcome here. I really would like to speak with you but, if you feel too uncomfortable, I will not stop you from leaving. It is your choice.”

Ginny seriously considered leaving. A night alone in her room sounded like the greatest thing in the entire world at the moment. However, by leaving she would be admitting defeat, something she could not bring herself to do. No, she would grin and bear the uncomfortable dinner in the house of her old enemy. She just hoped it would make Draco as on edge as it made her.

“Of course I’ll stay for dinner,” Ginny said with a warm smile to Scorpius, “after your cook prepared such a grand feast, how could I leave?”

“Wonderful!” Scorpius said, his face lighting up with excitement. “Now if you do not mind, I would love to ask you a few more questions regarding what we spoke of the other day.”

Ginny waited for him to continue, confused. Surely he hadn’t brought her here to lecture her on the horrors of the eating choices at the Yodeling Dwarf.

“The final battle, when the Dark Lord was defeated. Were you there?”

“Yes,” Ginny replied uncertainly. Suddenly, she was wishing she had gone home when she had the chance.

“Who else was with you?”

“Well, a lot of people really. Everyone showed up to help in the fight. My family was all there, as well as a few Aurors, and of course--” anger flared inside of her as she thought of the person who was perhaps the most instrumental in the fight.

“Who?” Scorpius was at the edge of his seat, hanging on Ginny’s words.

“The Hogwarts professors,” she finished lamely. Ginny did not want to talk about the famous Harry Potter right now.

The answer seemed to satisfy Scorpius for the time being. He leaned back in his chair, the eagerness had left his eyes and once more, he was polite and charming. The rest of his questions were fairly common.

“So what do you do now?” he asked as a tiny elf brought out a tray of various deserts.

“Well, for a while I did some freelancing with the profit. Sports section,” Ginny answered, spooning some kind of cobbler onto her plate. “I stopped years ago. Just didn’t have the time anymore.” She felt a pang through her heart. The reason she had stopped working had been for her kids, of course. She hadn’t talked to them since she left Harry.

“Enough about me, have you liked your experience at Hogwarts?” Ginny asked, eager to change the topic.

“It has been educational,” Scorpius said blandly, “though undoubtedly, my father is disappointed. You see,” he continued after seeing the look of confusion on Ginny’s face, “I did not make the Quidditch team. I would much prefer reading a good book than to go out on a broomstick and toss balls around.” He paused for a second. “I’m more like my mother that way.”

“What was your mother like?” Ginny felt this might be too personal a question but her curiosity could not be silenced.

“She was very gentle, from what I remember,” Scorpius said quietly.

“I’m sorry that you lost her so young.”

“I did not lose her,” Scorpius said, that gleam returned to his eyes; that look that something else was lurking underneath his collected demeanor. “She was taken from me.”

Ginny, uncomfortable with the direction the meal had taken, searched for a distraction. Luckily, another elf had just walked in from the kitchen with yet another large tray of what looked like small frosted cookies.

“I can’t eat another bite,” Ginny stated.

Scorpius laughed, at once becoming his old self, “Excellent decision. Another tray would me the death of me.”

Ginny glanced at the window. All signs of light had vanished.

Scorpius seemed to read her mind. “Time for you to leave, I expect.”

Ginny smiled, nodding. She said her endless thanks for the remarkable meal and her goodbyes to the youngest Malfoy.

“We will see each other again soon,” Scorpius said, hope filling his voice.

“Any time. You know where to find me.”

With a smile and a wave, Ginny left the manor. Walking down the long walk, she couldn’t help but smile. Scorpius may have been a bit odd on certain subjects but his polite good humor was contagious.

Walking down the long gravel pathway towards the gates that marked the entrance to the manor, Ginny was in too much of a good mood to notice that she was being watched from the second story window.