N/B: I’d say ‘spot The Princess Bride reference’, but it’s terribly obvious.

"May your service of love be a beautiful thing; want nothing else, fear nothing else and let love be free to become what love truly is."
- Hadewijch of Antwerp

~*~

Early April, 2011

Ginny knew something was up when she got Hermione’s owl. It was a week after Harry had discovered Draco at her apartment, and although the note itself was innocuous - Meet me at the Cauldron for lunch tomorrow? Natalie’s offered to baby-sit! - Ginny knew full well that it was no simple request. When she arrived at Natalie and George’s small house just outside of Malton, and discovered that Hermione had dropped off the twins and gone ahead without waiting for her, Ginny started to get rather worried about what Hermione had in store.

After a brief chat with Natalie and a quick check to make sure that the children would be all right without her, Ginny apparated into the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron and took a deep, apprehensive breath before entering the pub. Hermione had secured a low, shadowed booth on the wall opposite the bar, and she waved Ginny over as soon as she spotted the younger woman. "Gin! Over here!"

Ginny made her way to the booth, nodding and smiling at the witches and wizards who greeted her as she passed. She reached the booth where Hermione sat, and froze.

Hermione wasn’t alone.

"Hello, Hermione, Ron," Ginny said flatly. "Sirius."

Sirius had changed a great deal since his days on the run from Azkaban. Tall and handsome still, his dark hair shot with silver, Sirius lived and worked in Hogsmeade, where he operated a small magical supply shop with Remus Lupin. He must have come down to London especially for this meeting; Ginny was willing to bet it was because Harry had talked to him about meeting Draco at her flat. Suddenly, the reason for Hermione’s lunch invitation became much clearer. He nodded at her as she sat quietly, sliding into the seat beside Hermione, facing Sirius. "Hermione didn’t tell me you’d be here."

Hermione looked sheepish. "Well, Sirius arrived in town, so I thought I would invite him along. I didn’t think you’d mind."

Ginny pressed her lips together, but didn’t say anything. It would be a bit pointless to protest, with Sirius sitting right there, and Hermione damn well knew it. "Not at all," she said in resignation. "What brings you to London?"

Sirius smiled charmingly. "Just business, really, but I thought I’d make a social call or two while I was down here."

Ginny smiled back as pleasantly as she could. She didn’t dislike Sirius exactly - there wasn’t anything about him to dislike, in all honesty - but she always felt uncomfortable around him. It always felt a bit like he was testing her, mentally comparing her to some invisible standard that she never quite measured up to. Like he didn’t really think she was good enough. She felt the same now, despite the fact that he was chatting agreeably, making polite small talk. He was better at it than Ron and Hermione, who were eyeing both her and each other nervously.

After several minutes of discussing the weather, Ginny cleared her throat nervously and decided to take the bull by the horns. "So...have you heard from Harry lately?"

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances again, then looked at Sirius. Hermione took a deep breath and nodded. "Actually, we wanted to talk to you about that."

Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but Sirius interrupted smoothly. "Harry says that you’re seeing Draco Malfoy now. When did that happen?"

"Last September, actually," Ginny replied, with a disgruntled look at Hermione. "I gather you have spoken to him, then."

Sirius nodded, settling his face into lines of deep concern. "That was part of the reason we wanted to talk to you today. We wanted to know if there was anything you wanted to tell us about...about this new relationship."

"There’s really nothing to tell," Ginny said guardedly. "We’re dating, and that’s really all there is to say."

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, and Hermione took a deep breath. "It’s just...we’re a little worried. I know you like Malfoy, and I know he seems like he’s changed, but we still don’t really know that much about him. Harry is worried about it...he spoke with us last night, and he seemed quite upset about it." She paused, glancing again at Sirius and Ron. "I know how you feel about Malfoy, it’s just...we just don’t want to see you get hurt."

Ginny stiffened. "There’s nothing to worry about, as I’ve already told you," she said calmly. "You can ask Neville again, if you’re worried, and he’ll just tell you what’s already been said. There’s absolutely no proof that Draco was involved in anything during the war, and he works for the Ministry now, which they wouldn’t let him do if he had been. I think I’ve said this already, but touching as your concern is, it’s not necessary, and you can tell that to Harry as well."

"He’s got a right to be worried, Gin," Ron said. "I mean, there may not be any proof, but you can’t just disregard Malfoy’s past."

"And which past would that be?" Ginny asked icily. "The 4 years he spent as a spoilt brat, the period he spent questioning everything he’d been raised to believe or the twelve years he spent living as a Muggle?"

Ron opened his mouth, then shut it again with an exasperated breath, shrugging his shoulders. Sirius frowned. "Ginny, you can’t afford this sort of naivete. Whatever’s happened in the last 12 years, the fact remains that Malfoy is dangerous. Whatever the Ministry may say, we don’t know what he’s been up to, we don’t know that he can be trusted, we have only his word that he hasn’t been neck deep in the Dark Arts all this time, lying low in Canada until it was safe for him to come back. You’re putting a lot of people at risk here, Ginny. Harry, your kids..."

That was the last straw. Her temper snapping, Ginny slammed her hand down on the table, rigid with fury. "Do not ever imply to me that I am putting my children into danger!" she hissed at Sirius. She kept her voice down, though, mindful of the room full of patrons. "You have not even seen Draco since he came back, you have no idea what he’s like now, and Harry hasn’t spent more than 5 minutes in his company. The two of you are the last people to go about making judgment calls about other peoples’ trustworthiness!"

It was Sirius’ turn to stiffen in anger. "If you’re saying that I can’t be trusted - " He broke off and took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his own temper in check. "Or is that something Malfoy told you?"

Ginny laughed incredulously. "I don’t think Draco even knows who you are, Sirius. Don’t flatter yourself. It’s been said, and said again, and not just by me. There is absolutely no proof that Draco was a Death Eater. There is no proof that he was involved in the Dark Arts, or that he was a supporter of Voldemort. It’s been checked, and by people with more experience in that sort of thing than any of you." She stood up abruptly, glaring at Sirius. "You are so sure you know everything, aren’t you? But the truth is, you don’t. If you really want to go digging about in Draco’s past, then ask Harry, because he knows better than anyone about Draco’s involvement in the war." She paused for breath, steadying herself against the table. "And while you’re talking to him, since you’re so determined to play go-between, then you can pass a message on for me. You can tell him that if he has a problem, then he can come talk to me! Tell him I am sick to death of hearing everything second-hand and I am sick to death of being lectured by you whenever he thinks there’s something wrong. And tell him that if he spent half as much time talking to me as he does trying to get other people to tackle his problems for him, maybe he would still have a wife!"

She ignored the outbursts from Ron and Sirius and Hermione’s shocked "Ginny!" as she yanked her cloak off the hook beside the booth and swung it over her shoulders, stalking quickly toward the back of the Cauldron and the entrance to Diagon Alley. She had wrenched open the back door and was about to apparate from the small yard behind the pub when Sirius caught up to her and grabbed her arm.

"Ginny," he said quietly, anger written in every line of his body. "He loves you. Still. He loves you, and he doesn’t want to see you get hurt. And you’re hurting him, with this...this thing with Malfoy. He doesn’t deserve this, Ginny. He doesn’t deserve to have you do this to him."

Ginny stared at him, fighting back tears of fury. "He loves me," she said hoarsely. Sirius nodded, clearly taking her tears for remorse. "I see. Then you may tell him when you see him next, that it means a great deal to me, to hear all about his love for me from his godfather." She yanked her arm out of his grasp and wiped her face, then waved her wand and apparated away.

~*~

Draco was in his office finishing up some paperwork when his mobile rang. He frowned and answered it curtly, glancing at the number. "Hello?"

There was a brief staticky pause before a young voice said, "Hello."

Draco frowned. "Jamie?"

"Hello!"

"Jamie, is something wrong?" Draco asked in concern. He didn’t think that Ginny’s children even knew how to operate a telephone, much less how to call him.

"Noo...are you going to come here today?" Thankfully Jamie didn’t really sound worried or upset, although he did sound a bit as though he were hiding something.

"I hadn’t planned on it. Why? Where’s your mum?"

"You can, you know," Jamie said. There was a pause, and Draco heard him whispering to someone - Sarah, he guessed. "Mum wanted us to ask you."

"Can I talk to your mum?" Draco asked.

There was a long pause. "Um, she’s busy. She wanted us to ask you."

Draco frowned. "Jamie, what is going on?"

"Nothing...are you coming?" There was another pause. "Come, ok?"

"Jamie, what - damn." Draco sighed as Jamie hung up on him, and turned off his mobile. "I guess I’m going to Ginny’s, then."

When Draco got to Ginny’s flat, it was Jamie who answered the door, with Sarah right behind him. There was no sign of Ginny, nor could he hear her in the kitchen or living room. "Hello," he said to Jamie, frowning down at him.

Jamie grinned back, unabashed. "Hullo."

Draco shook his head, marveling at how much Jamie looked like Harry when he was trying to hide something. "May I come in?"

Jamie bounced back into the hallway. "Yep." He pushed Sarah, who skittered forward and glared over her shoulder at her brother.

They watched with bright eyes as Draco shut the door and hung his coat up in the closet. He turned and looked down at the two children, arms folded. "Well?" he asked.

Jamie and Sarah looked at each other, then back at Draco. "Mum’s in her room," Jamie volunteered, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. "You should go talk to her."

Draco narrowed his eyes at the two of them. They were clearly playing innocent about something, but he wasn’t sure what. Jamie gulped, but stood his ground, and Sarah gave him her sweetest, most disarming smile, unfazed. Draco frowned, but turned and walked slowly down the hallway to Ginny’s room, casting another glance over his shoulder at the children, who were watching his progress with wide and hopeful looks. Draco reached Ginny’s door, which was partially closed, the room beyond dark. Draco pushed the door open further and looked inside.

"Ginny?" he called hesitantly. He could see her, curled up on her side on the bed with her back to the door. She moved when she heard him, pushing herself up onto one elbow and looking over her shoulder at him. Her face was a white blur in the darkness, and she turned away as he stepped into the room, rubbing one hand over her eyes. He stopped at the far corner of the bed. "Are you all right?"

"What are you doing here?" she asked hoarsely, without turning to look at him. She swung
her legs over the edge of the bed, leaning forward with her shoulders hunched.

Draco didn’t move. "I was invited, actually. Jamie called me and asked if I were coming. Said that you told him to call me, because you were busy."

"I didn’t," she said sharply.

"I didn’t think so." He moved across the end of the bed and stood at the other corner, looking down on her bent head. "D’you know, Jamie looks exactly like Harry when he’s trying to hide something?" he said conversationally.

Ginny jerked her head at the mention of Harry’s name and took a deep sobbing breath. "Oh, I’m well aware of that," she said angrily.

Draco raised his eyebrows. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing," she said. "Everything." She raised her head and looked at him. Close to, Draco could see that her face was blotchy, as if she’d been crying. "Well don’t just stand there," she said irritably.

"Sorry," Draco said wryly, and came to sit next to her, not quite close enough to touch her. "Want to talk about it?"

"Oh," Ginny said sharply, and started speaking rapidly, as though his question had released something. "Hermione invited me to lunch today," she spat, and from the tone of her voice Draco gathered that it hadn’t been very pleasant. "She got Natalie to babysit, so I dropped the kids off there, and went to the Cauldron to meet her. When I got there, I found her there with Ron and Sirius, to tell me that Harry had gone to talk to them last night, and how Harry was upset, because I’m seeing you. Because God forbid that their dear, precious Harry be unhappy, and it is all my fault and if I weren’t so stubborn and cruel I would see that obviously he still loves me and how could I just leave him if he wants me back?" She paused to get her breath. "Because it’s me. It’s my fault that we split up, and it’s my fault that Harry is unhappy, and it’s my fault that we’re not a perfect little happy family anymore."

She picked up a pillow and threw it as hard as she could against the wall. It hit with a whump and slid to the floor. Ginny sniffled and rubbed one hand across her cheek furiously. "I cannot believe that they would do this to me. I knew they didn’t like you, but I can’t believe they would pull crap like this. It’s just cruel."

Draco nodded, not saying anything. Ginny took another deep breath and continued. "It’s like they’re trying to make me feel guilty for leaving Harry. Like I’m not allowed to have my own life outside of what they want me to be. The perfect mother, the perfect wife, Harry’s little shadow. And I can’t complain, oh no. I have to just sit there and say nothing and take it when he flits off to hang out with Ron and Hermione, or goes out with his team without inviting me, or bring people over without letting me know first, take me for granted, because no, I wouldn’t be upset that he’s got more important things to do, that he’s obviously too busy to be concerned with how his precious little wife is doing." She scowled and picked up another pillow, tossing it at the wall with less force this time. "Because I’m not supposed to want more. I’m not supposed to want to have my own friends and my own career and a life that doesn’t revolve around changing diapers and making sure dinner is ready when he comes home. I don’t get to have a life.

"And the worst part is, I can’t talk about it to anyone. I don’t want to say things like that in front of the kids, because it’s not fair to them, and it isn’t as though I can talk to Hermione about it, because she’s firmly on Harry’s side, and God knows Neville’s heard it enough." She slumped forward and sighed heavily. "It’s not fair. He can go ‘round talking about me to anyone he wants, and I can’t say anything bad about him to anyone."

"You can badmouth him to me all you like," Draco said helpfully. Ginny raised her head and looked at him, an unreadable expression on her face, then she threw back her head and laughed. She fell over backwards, still giggling, to lie on the bed, stretching her arms above her head. Draco turned slightly to look at her. "Feel a bit better?"

Ginny chuckled. "Yes." She sighed again and closed her eyes. "I’m still angry, though. Oooh, I could just smack Sirius. Insufferable prat."

"I could do that for you too," Draco offered. "You know, so you don’t hurt your hands."

Ginny snickered. "Maybe after mine get sore."

"I’ll hold you to that." He lay down beside her, and propped himself up on one elbow,
looking down at her face. "Sirius Black?"

"He’s Harry’s godfather," Ginny said. "They captured Peter Pettigrew after the end of the war, and since the whole reason Sirius was in Azkaban was for killing Peter, and Peter wasn’t dead, they let Sirius go. Gave him a pardon."

"Ah," said Draco. He remembered the story now, and the excitement over Black escaping from Azkaban in his third year - he’d teased Harry about it, knowing that Black had been a friend of the Potters, in the malicious hope that Harry would go after him and Black would do something horrible to him. Typical of Harry’s luck, really, that Black had turned out to be innocent after all. "And Hermione invited you for lunch, and didn’t tell you that he and Ron were going to be
there? That doesn’t seem like something she’d do."

"It probably wasn’t her idea," Ginny said. "I’d bet money on it being Sirius. Harry probably talked to him and to Ron, and they made Hermione ask me. They did the same sort of thing just after Harry and I split up."

"Charming," Draco said wryly.

"Well, Harry is upset, and if he’s upset then everyone has to go rushing to his defence," she said, glaring at the ceiling. "Because God forbid anything should happen to upset Harry. They’ve got to leap up and protect him." She closed her eyes and growled in frustration. "It’s so irritating! It’s as though he’s the only one who counts, like I don’t have any say in the matter and why am I making such a fuss? Because Harry was happy with the way things were before, and I’m the one who’s going about making waves and upsetting him and upsetting everyone else and if I’d just shut up and be a good little girl, then everyone would be happy."

"Except you."

Ginny laughed shortly. "Yes, well, I think we’ve already established that my happiness is not at the forefront of anyone’s mind."

Draco raised his eyebrows and looked injured. "What am I, chopped liver?"

Ginny opened her eyes. "I’m sorry...I didn’t mean you." She reached up and patted his cheek gently.

"I should hope not," Draco said, sounding aggrieved. "No more portkey trips for you."

Ginny laughed. "I said didn’t mean you!" She sobered and shook her head. "I just hate that no one ever thinks to ask what I want. And then to turn around and say things like, ‘Oh, but Harry still loves you’. As if they think that they can guilt me into running back to him by telling me that. If he even does," Ginny said sceptically.

"Oh, he does," Draco blurted out before he could stop himself, and winced. He hadn’t meant to tell her that.

Ginny turned her head and looked at him quizzically. "What?"

Draco sighed. "He does. Still love you, I mean."

Ginny hauled herself up onto her elbows, frowning at him. "How do you know that?"

He shrugged uncomfortably. "I could tell. When he was here."

"You could tell," Ginny said flatly. "How could you tell?"

"Just..." Draco trailed off, picking at the quilt. "The way he looked at you. He’s crap at hiding his emotions, if you know what to look for."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "And you know what to look for?"

Draco met her eyes and smirked. "I spent seven years tormenting him for fun, of course I do. Made it my life’s work at one point to find out exactly what pushed his buttons. He hasn’t changed that much in the last 12 years. Yes, I know what to look for."

Ginny narrowed her eyes dangerously. "I thought you said our relationship had nothing to do with Harry."

"And it doesn’t. I didn’t run out and tell him as soon as we started dating, did I? And I’m not seeking him out to rub his nose in it." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "I admit, however, that I am not particularly broken up over the fact that he’s not happy about it. It’s not a reason behind my wanting to be with you, it’s just a...perk."

Ginny glared at him sidelong. "A perk. Honestly."

Draco smiled innocently. "I did tell you I’m not nice."

Ginny shifted onto one elbow and smacked him on the hip with her other hand. "You’re
terrible."

"I think the word you’re looking for is evil." Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her off balance, rolling onto his back and dragging her toward him. She laughed and let him do it, and settled against his chest with a small sigh. He wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair softly, winding it around his fingers. "Does it matter?"

"Hmmm?" Ginny murmured.

"About Harry. About...how he feels. Because he would take you back, I think, if you wanted him."

"But I don’t," Ginny said softly. "It...I don’t know. Five years ago, or three, or even a year ago, it might have made a difference, to know that. But now...no." He felt her sigh again. "I do love him, I always will care about him, but I don’t want to be married to him anymore. It’s over, and I’m not the same person I was when we got married. I don’t think I ever was the person he thought he married. After we split up, it was...it was like being able to breathe again after being trapped underwater." She lifted her head again and looked at him, her face shadowed in the dim half-light, so that he couldn’t read her expression. "I wouldn’t go back to him, even if he wants me to."

"Does he know that?" Draco asked.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Well, he will now, I imagine. I’d tell him myself if I could get him to talk to me, but I imagine he’ll hear all about it from Ron and Hermione and Sirius long before I get a chance to."

"Who says Weasel boy doesn’t have his uses?" Draco smirked.

Ginny scowled at him. "Don’t call Ron that! It’s a bit of a job convincing people you’re a nicer person when you insist on being a prat, you know."

"Sorry," Draco said contritely. "I promise not to call him Weasel boy anywhere you can hear me from now on."

That made her laugh, the tension easing out of her body where it rested against his. "Well that’s a start," she said, then leaned forward and kissed him, gently at first, then with more intensity as he slid his arms around her and settled her against his chest. A shuffling noise and a faint giggle made her break off the kiss and look at the doorway in exasperation. "We have an audience."

Draco craned his neck to look at the door. He didn’t see the children, but there did seem to be a lot of giggling and whispering going on around the edge of the doorframe. He looked back at Ginny and smiled ruefully. "It appears we do."

Ginny flashed him a wicked grin. "Then I suppose my plan to ravish you utterly will just have to wait ‘til later. Excuse me whilst I go have a word with my children." She leaned down and kissed him quite thoroughly, then pulled away and wriggled quickly out of his arms and off the bed before he could stop her.

"Hey!" Draco sat up and glared at her retreating back. "Well, I’m glad you feel better," he said grouchily, and took a deep breath. "Tease." He got up, brushing off his pants, and followed her laughter out into the kitchen.

~*~

They met at the Library later that week, Ginny having dropped her kids off at the Burrow in order to spend her morning doing research again. She greeted Draco’s appearance with a sigh of relief, stretching and flexing her cramped hands. "I swear, I’m going to invest in a Quick-Notes Quill one of these days, and spare my poor hands."

Draco sat at the table beside her, took her hands in his and massaged them gently. "How’s the story coming?"

"Getting there," Ginny sighed, and smiled blissfully. "You can keep doing that, though. I’ve just about finished my research, and can get down to writing soon, which will be a great relief. Means less time in the library, and I don’t have to keep Mum babysitting all the time."

"Must be difficult, having to send them off to your parents all the time," Draco said, helping her gather up her things.

Ginny nodded. "It is, but I don’t have to do it every day, and Mum doesn’t mind. She likes spending time with her grandchildren, and I did it when Harry and I were married so it’s not as though it’s a huge change." She tucked the last of her papers into her bag and swung it over her shoulder, leading the way toward the stairs and the Library exit. "Mum loves to have them, and she babysat a lot for me when Harry and I were both working."

"Speaking of Harry," Draco said. "What’s happening there?" He held the main door for her, and they stepped out onto Diagon Alley, joining the throng of wizards on the street, walking down toward the bank.

Ginny made an exasperated noise. "Nothing," she said with disgust. "It’s been a week and I haven’t heard anything from him...he’s supposed to be taking the kids next Saturday and he hasn’t called to arrange a time yet. I think he’s avoiding me now. I talked to Hermione, and she did apologize for inviting Sirius and having him jump all over me, but..." Ginny trailed off and sighed. "I don’t know which is worse, knowing the fight we’ll have when we do finally talk, or waiting about to find out what his reaction will be when he hears about what I said to Sirius. If he hasn’t already."

"What did you say?" Draco asked curiously. He’d never seen Ginny truly angry and wondered idly what it would be like. Despite all the rumours about redheads and their fiery tempers, the only evidence of it he’d seen in Ginny was her outburst last week. She was perhaps one of the most patient and calm people he’d ever met.

"Oh, all sorts of things," she sighed, shaking her head. "Mostly that my love life is none of his business and that he has nothing to be worried about." She cocked her head at him. "Because I think what the real problem is, is that they’re worried about you. And I told them - Sirius especially - that if Harry spent half as much time actually talking to me as he did getting Ron or Hermione or Sirius to talk to me, that we’d still be married. Which is true, but they didn’t need to hear it. Not that way, anyway."

"They’re worried about me?" Draco asked.

Ginny nodded. "They think that you’re going to exert some sort of terrible influence on me, or do something evil, seduce me to the dark side or the like."

"Oh?" Draco said, raising an eyebrow at her. He tugged her closer to him, slipping one hand around her waist. "Now there’s an idea that has some merit. The seduction part, anyway," he purred.

Ginny grinned. "I rather think so too, but they’re convinced that you’re out to get me, or using me to get at Harry, something of the sort. Sirius says that you’ve probably spent the last twelve years hiding out and waiting for the chance to come back here and...I don’t know, wreak your revenge, or something."

Draco snorted. "Leaving aside the fact that there’s nothing Harry’s done to make me want revenge, unless you count losing to him at Quidditch at Hogwarts. And even I am not quite that petty. Nothing that I was aware of at the time, anyway. And now...it’s not really worth it for me to go about seeking ways to drag Harry down. I’ve got more important things to do."

"That’s what I said to him," Ginny shrugged. "Sirius likes to see conspiracies everywhere...he thinks everyone has an ulterior motive."

"If I do have an ulterior motive, it’s got nothing to do with him or with Harry," Draco said stiffly. "Nor is it any of his business."

"I know," Ginny said. "And I wish he weren’t so pushy, but he really does have Harry’s best interests at heart. It’s just that he’s far more concerned about Harry than anyone else. With Ron and Hermione, I think it’s just that they’re not sure what you want, so they’re worried about me and Harry."

Draco stopped and turned to face her, taking her hands in his. "What I want is for you to be happy," he said simply, his grey eyes serious.

Ginny smiled. "You make me happy," she replied, and warmth flooded through her as his eyes lit up, his mouth quirking up in a small smile.

He leaned forward and brushed his mouth against hers, still smiling. "I’m glad," he said, his voice husky. Then he glanced over her shoulder, up the Alley and froze. He let her hands go and straightened up fully, staring up the street with narrowed eyes.

"What is it?" Ginny asked, alarmed. She glanced down the street and back at Draco, who waved one hand at her, his whole attention focused on the end of the block. She felt a small pang of disappointment as Draco moved away from her but squashed it quickly, scanning the street ahead trying to see what had caught his attention.

"Wait here," he said sharply, then started away, not quite running, but moving quicker than the rest of the people out shopping or going about their business. Ginny couldn’t tell who he was aiming for - there was a mass of people gathered by the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, some watching a street performer with trained salamanders, some gathered in front of the displays outside the cauldron shop, some coming out of the apothecary.

She watched in bewilderment as someone detached themselves from the crowd of people and grasp Draco’s arm before he reached the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. Ginny squinted, shading her eyes with one hand, trying to see who it was. A woman, well dressed in a fine spring cloak, deep purple robes and an elaborate hairstyle, but she had her back to Ginny, so she couldn’t recognize who it was. Draco stopped abruptly, dividing his attention between the woman clinging to his arm and the entrance to the Cauldron. She couldn’t see his face but from the way he was standing and the set of his shoulders, Ginny guessed he wasn’t happy. His shoulders fell slightly as he watched the Cauldron, then he glared down at the woman next to him and snapped something, shaking her hand off his arm. She fell back a step and said something angrily, which Draco ignored, turning on his heel and walking away. The other woman glared at his back, then spun around and scuttled toward the Cauldron.

Draco was definitely angry. He strode up the street, a fierce scowl marring his features, hands curled into fists. He nearly walked right past her, but Ginny held out one hand, and he stopped, still scowling. "What’s wrong?" Ginny asked, slightly alarmed.

Draco favoured her with a disgusted glare. "I saw one of the men we’re looking for. He was in the crowd near the Cauldron. Damn that woman!" he hissed in frustration.

"Who was that?" Ginny asked, mentally kicking herself, but wanting to know.

"Pansy Parkinson," Draco spat. "Meddling little busybody."

Ginny’s eyes widened with concern. She didn’t have any contact with Pansy, but she remembered Neville saying that the other woman was under watch for suspected Dark Arts activities. "What did she want?"

"Who knows? She always was a pest." Draco glared down the street as if wishing Pansy would come back so he could throttle her. He shook his head once and looked down at Ginny. "Sorry. God, that woman is irritating."

Ginny raised her eyebrows and smiled faintly. "Didn’t you date her at Hogwarts?"

Draco shuddered and closed his eyes. "Don’t remind me."

Ginny’s smile widened just a little. "It was that bad?"

"Worse," Draco grumbled. "She was demanding and irritating and always underfoot, and she never, ever shut up." He sighed. "I should find Neville and let him know about this. If they’ve discovered Diagon Alley..." He stopped and shook his head. "I only hope they haven’t made any contacts here. Damn."

"We can stop by the Ministry if you need to," Ginny offered. "Neville should be at his office today."

"Do you mind?" Draco asked. "He’ll need to know."

Ginny shook her head, and they made their way down Diagon Alley to the Ministry building. She waited in the foyer while Draco quickly ran downstairs to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It didn’t take long before he was back up, shaking his head. "He’s not in," he said. "I’ll have to call him and tell him. God," he said, running a hand over his hair. "I can’t believe this. Of all the horrible bad luck...that damned woman."

"Does Pansy know the people you’re after?" Ginny asked, concerned.

"I don’t know," Draco replied. "I don’t think so, but I’ll have to ask Neville to check again. We’ve been operating on the assumption that the two of them don’t know anyone in the wizarding world. If they’ve made contacts among some of the old crowd of Voldemort’s...well, it’s not good."

"Can’t you ask anyone you used to know?" Ginny said. "From school, I mean. I imagine they must know you’re here."

Draco shook his head. "Except for Pansy, I’ve not seen anyone I went to Hogwarts with. I know Blaise Zabini is working for the Ministry in some capacity, but aside from Pansy, he’s the only one in my year that I’ve heard tell of. I don’t even know what happened to Vincent and Gregory." He laughed faintly. "And it’s never occurred to me to ask, either."

"I’m afraid it’s not really good news," Ginny said apologetically. "Crabbe died during the war, and Goyle just afterward - he charged a group of Aurors and they killed him."

"Bright of him," Draco snorted. "He always was an idiot. Him and Vince both...dumber than a box of hammers."

Ginny laughed at that, then clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, I shouldn’t laugh. It’s hardly their fault."

"Don’t waste sympathy on them," Draco said. "Neither of them deserve it. They really were stupid...the only way Greg ever managed to pass any of his courses is because I let him crib my notes. They’d do anything anyone told them to, especially if it involved hitting something."

"You don’t miss them?"

Draco laughed at that. "Not at all, actually. I can’t say I really miss anyone. It isn’t as though I had many good friends among the Slytherin crowd, especially during seventh year. They’d all pretty much stopped talking to me by that time."

"Why?" Ginny asked.

"Because I had the chance to become a Death Eater and gave it up," Draco said. "It was what most of them dreamed of, being welcomed into Voldemort’s inner circle, and I had the chance and didn’t take it. I think my father must have told some of his friends, who told their children...probably hoping to have them peer pressure me into joining." He laughed shortly. "Needless to say, it didn’t work. But it didn’t stop them all from hating me."

"Oh," Ginny said solemnly. "To hear the Trio talk about it, you’d have thought you were the centre of all Dark Arts activity within a 100 mile radius of Hogwarts."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "The Trio?"

Ginny chuckled. "Oh, Harry, Ron and Hermione. That’s what we called them, all the younger Gryffindors. Capital letter and all. They were an inseparable unit, and the nickname sort of stuck."

"It suits, oddly enough," Draco smirked. "They do tend to be a bit of an entity all on their own, don’t they?"

Ginny nodded ruefully. "You have no idea."

Draco grinned and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, his cell phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and answered curtly. "Malfoy." He paused, and then said, "I was just looking for you. You’ll never guess who I saw today." Ginny guessed it must be Neville. "Yeah...All right, I’ll be there soon," he said, then slid his phone back into his pocket and looked at Ginny apologetically. "I’m going to have to head back to the Ministry. I’m sorry."

"No, it’s all right," she said, hiding her pang of disappointment. "We can meet up later. I wanted to ask you, though...will you come for dinner next week? I’m having the twins over, and I’d like for you to come." She looked at him hopefully.

Draco paused, clearly debating, then nodded and smiled at her. "I’d love to." He leaned forward and kissed her softly. "I am sorry...I was looking forward to lunch."

"I understand," Ginny replied. "I’ll talk to you later." She hugged him quickly, then watched him make his way back to the Ministry building, and watched in amusement as he walked obliviously past a giggling group of older witches, who eyed him and whispered to each other behind their hands like schoolgirls. He stopped at the top of the stairs to the Ministry and looked back, caught her eye and lifted his hand in farewell.

~*~

Ginny had decided on Saturday for dinner with her brothers, and Draco arrived at her flat shortly after six, laden with a few last minute purchase for her. "Do you need a hand with anything?" he asked, as he set the wine he’d brought on the table and the dinner rolls on the counter. He watched as she checked the oven, prodding at the chicken with her wand to check how well cooked it was.

"You could help Jamie set the table, that would be a huge help," Ginny said, straightening up and pushing a stray curl behind her ear. "I think we’ll probably let the older kids eat in the living room, because there won’t be room in here. I always forget about the logistics of this when I invite them over. Jamie!" she called. "Come in here and set the table!"

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "How many children do your brothers have?" he asked warily.

Ginny grinned. "All of them together, or just the twins? Fred and Angelina have 4. Calliope’s eleven, but she started Hogwarts this year, so she won’t be here tonight. Tim is nine, Zachary is seven, and Sierra, who’s the baby at five. George and Natalie have one daughter, Marjorie, and she’s 3 - almost four, actually, she’s a year older than Will. Hullo, sweeting, be a dear and give Draco a hand, will you?" she said to Jamie, who had popped around the corner. Draco opened the cutlery drawer and started handing forks and knives to Jamie, who took them, humming happily.

"That’s a lot of children," Draco said to Ginny as he pulled the plates out of the cupboard beside the fridge and carried them to the table.

"You should see my parents’ house at Christmas," Ginny replied ruefully. "Percy and Penelope have 3 kids too, Ron and Hermione have the twins, plus my three...there’s - " she paused to mentally add them up, "thirteen in total. Plus all the adults...thank goodness Charlie’s never married, it’s a zoo as it is. And that no one’s got it into their heads to have as many children as Mum did. Thank you dear," she said to Jamie, who’d finished setting out the cutlery and was bouncing around in front of the table. He grinned happily and skittered back out to the living room.

"Must make things fun," Draco said blandly. "All redheads?"

Ginny shook her head and chuckled. "Of course not. Marjorie is, and the twins are the image of Ron when he was their age, but all of Fred and Angelina’s have dark hair of course, and both Pelagia and Pembroke look exactly like Penelope - " she stopped as Draco started laughing. "What?"

"Pembroke?" he sputtered. "Who cursed their poor kid with a name like Pembroke?"

Ginny tried to look stern and failed. "Percy. He married Penelope Clearwater, and they gave all their children names that started with P."

"So they named him Pembroke? What was wrong with naming him Peter, or Paul or anything, really, that wouldn’t result in the poor kid getting his head stuffed in a toilet the moment he gets to Hogwarts?" Draco shook his head. "What an awful thing to do."

Ginny gave up on glaring at him and started to giggle. "I know, it’s horrible. I think Penelope thought it sounded classy, but the poor dear...Hermione already has to threaten the twins with dire punishments before they go over to Percy’s, to stop the boys teasing the life out of him. And he’s such a sweet little thing, and so smart."

"What’d they name the girls?" Draco asked, looking as though he was dreading the answer.

"Pelagia’s the older one, she’s 11 and Perpetua is 8."

Draco shook his head. "Not as bad as Pembroke, at least. You can’t even make a decent nickname out of it. Unless Slytherins have changed a great deal since I left school, the poor
boy’s going to be hazed something awful."

Ginny snorted. "I doubt they have. And I think Pansy Flint’s oldest is the same age as Pembroke."

"They let her breed?" Draco asked rudely.

Ginny smirked and nodded. "She’s got two boys, and I’m fairly sure one of them is Pembroke’s age. I think she actually named one of them after you - there were pictures in the paper when they were born. Poor things look just like their father."

"Ugh." Draco gave a reflexive shudder. "I’d rather not think about it."

"I thought you were friends with her," Ginny said innocently. "You took her to the Triwizard Yule ball, didn’t you?"

"Yes, because taking someone to the Yule Ball was a sign of everlasting love," Draco snorted. "I went with her because I had to take someone, and Millicent Bulstrode was out of the question." Draco made a face. "My options were limited."

"Couldn’t you have asked someone who wasn’t in Slytherin?" Ginny asked. She turned back to the stove to check on the roast. "I mean, maybe not Gryffindors, but a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff?"

"And have my father disown me? Don’t be silly." Draco straightened his spine and looked down his nose at her, managing to look a good deal like Lucius Malfoy. "Malfoys do not associate with anyone below our social standing," he said haughtily, his grey eyes cold and hard. "If they’re not in Slytherin, they’re not worth knowing."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Really," she said, eyeing him warily.

Draco relaxed and leaned against the counter. "He used to say that all the time. Along with ‘Malfoys do not associate with Mudbloods’ and any number of pronouncements that I’ve torn to shreds over the years. Just as well he’s dead, he’d have disowned me a hundred times over by now."

"If he weren’t, though, you probably wouldn’t have been in the sort of situation where he would have had to," Ginny pointed out. "Would you?"

"Probably not. I’d have done whatever he wanted eventually. And probably ended up married to Pansy, worse luck." Draco couldn’t quite keep the revulsion out of his voice. "He wanted it, I think. He and Parkinson were talking about it - thank God it never happened."

"What, you don’t think you would have been happy with her?" Ginny asked slyly.

Draco shot her an evil look. "What do you think?"

"You don’t know that you wouldn’t have been."

"Oh yes I do," Draco retorted. "You did not have to share a common room with her for seven years.

"You might have grown to love her." Ginny giggled at the disgusted look on his face. "You could have populated the world with little Draco Malfoys, with your hair and her nose."

Draco shuddered again. "Do you mind? For someone who’s supposed to be noble and brave and all that, you’ve got a decidedly evil streak."

Ginny grinned. "I’m not evil."

"Oh yes you are."

"I am not!"

"Are too."

"Am not!"

Draco laughed and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her against his chest. "You are too," he said decisively. "But I don’t mind."

"I resent that," Ginny said, laughing herself. "I am not at all evil. I am a nice, sweet, kind woman, who would never do anything even remotely bad."

"And I don’t believe you one bit," Draco retorted, grinning back, lowering his head to hers and kissing her softly. She laughed and kissed him back, sighing with pleasure and wrapping her arms around his neck.

The door buzzed, and they broke apart. "That’ll be Fred and Angie," Ginny said, disentangling herself from his arms. "George and Natalie should be here soon too, if I know them." She went to open the door, as Sarah and Jamie bounced into the kitchen from the living room.

It was indeed Fred and Angelina, with a small tornado of children who raised the decibel level by several notches as they milled around in the entryway. Draco stood back and leaned against the fridge as Ginny and Angelina marshaled the kids into the living room. He nodded at Fred, who nodded warily back and started hanging up cloaks in the front closet. Draco wondered how they had managed to make it all the way to Ginny’s without being noticed; both Fred and Angelina were wearing full robes, Angelina in sleek charcoal and Fred in a bright blue that, combined with his bright red hair, made him look like a mischievous imp.

"I should have volunteered our place for this," Angelina said, once the children were settled in the living room and the volume level had decreased slightly. "I always forget how small your flat is."

"It’s no trouble," Ginny said. "We’ll manage well enough. Angelina, you remember Draco, don’t you?"

"Of course," Angelina said, smiling at Draco. He smiled back and shook her hand politely. "You played Seeker for Slytherin."

"I did," Draco said mildly.

"I heard you stopped playing in sixth year," Fred said to Draco, who nodded. "Why’d you do that?"

Draco shrugged guardedly. "Lost interest."

"Bet your dad was sorry to hear it - oof!" Fred snapped his mouth shut as Ginny and Angelina elbowed him at the same time. He looked at them both with an air of injured innocence. "What?"

Angelina leaned forward and whispered something fiercely in his ear. Fred scowled back. "I was only saying..."

"That it’s strange I’d quit when my father shelled out an awful lot of money to get me on the team in the first place?" Draco asked coolly.

Fred shuffled his feet and coughed as Angelina and Ginny both glared at him. Angelina poked him in the arm and whispered distinctly, "You promised me you’d behave yourself!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Fred, why don’t you go play with the kids? Someone’s got to keep an eye on Wills, or he’ll launch himself off the back of the couch and kill himself."

Fred opened his mouth to protest, but the look on Angelina’s face convinced him otherwise, and he slunk off to the living room. Angelina sighed and shook her head. "That man. I swear, he gets worse instead of better every year."

An insulted voice from the living room cried, "I heard that!"

"I said it loud!" Angelina shot back, as Ginny snickered. Angelina turned to her. "Natalie and George should be along soon. I talked to them before we left, and they said they were leaving right away."

Ginny nodded. "I thought so. Dinner should be about ready by the time they get here." She leaned over to check the oven. "It’s about ready now, actually. Hope they don’t take too long."

As if on cue, there was a thump from the living room and a chorus of young voices. They could hear George greeting the children, and a second thump that signaled the arrival of Natalie. She appeared around the corner a moment later, smiling at Ginny and Angelina. "Hello...sorry we’re a bit late."

"You’re not at all late, actually," Ginny said, giving the younger woman a hug. "Angelina and Fred just got here, and dinner is just about done. Natalie, have you met Draco Malfoy?"

"I don’t think so," Natalie said, holding out her hand, which Draco shook politely. "It’s a pleasure to meet you."

"Natalie was in Gryffindor, two years behind you, I think," Angelina said, as George came around the corner and wrapped an arm around Natalie’s shoulders. He was wearing dark green robes, and Draco made a mental note that Fred was wearing blue. He knew of the twins’ propensity for playing tricks, and wouldn’t have put it past them to go out of their way to confuse him. Forewarned was forearmed.

"Malfoy," George said, extending his own hand. Ginny shot him a look, which George ignored. "How are you?"

"I’m well, and you?"

"Fine," George said stiffly, and a brief, uncomfortable silence fell while everyone looked at each other.

Ginny cleared her throat and brushed her hands off. "I think dinner is about ready, if you want to go get Fred, George. Nat, want to give me a hand?"

Natalie nodded and stepped forward to help, while Angelina busied herself in the refrigerator getting drinks - pumpkin juice for the kids, and butterbeer for the adults; Draco retreated to the door of the living room, where George had joined Fred in examining Jamie’s toy cowboys and Indians with great interest. Once everything was ready to be served, the older children were delegated to the living room with plates and glasses and injunctions from Angelina not to spill anything if they knew what was good for them, a threat that seemed to roll right over the heads of her two boys.

Dinner was a noisy and boisterous affair, even with most of the kids in the other room; Fred and George hadn’t lost their penchant for mischief making and jokes, and took great delight in teasing the women, and occasionally throwing barbed comments at Draco. Draco recognized the tests for what they were, and he responded politely and refused to rise to the twins’ bait, until Angelina finally elbowed Fred sharply in the ribs and told him if he didn’t stop, he’d be doing the dishes by hand. Fred glared at her, then glared at Draco when he caught Draco smirking at him.

Angelina didn’t hold Fred to her threat, and once the children’s plates had been cleared from the living room and the dishes from the table, she and Natalie and Ginny ushered the men into the living room while they cleaned up. Fred and George took up seats beside each other on the couch,
while Draco sank into one of the chairs near the fireplace.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Ginny asked from the archway.

"I’ll have another butterbeer," George said, and Fred nodded. She looked inquiringly at Draco, who shook his head, then was back in a moment with the butterbeers for Fred and George,

She retreated back to the kitchen and Draco watched her go, smiling slightly. When he turned back to the room once she’d vanished around the corner, it was to find two identical faces watching him with identical expressions of interest and mistrust. Draco raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Fred shook his head. "Nothing," he said. The two of them looked at each other, then back at Draco. "So," he said neutrally. "What have you been doing in Canada all this time?"

"Working, mostly," Draco replied, leaning back in his chair. "I’ve been with the RCMP for 10 years."

"RCMP?" George asked. "What’s that?"

"Royal Canadian Mounted Police. National police force. I don’t think England has an equivalent," Draco replied.

"Interesting career choice," Fred said. "Seems a bit..."

"Plebian?" Draco supplied ironically.

"Something like that," George said. "So what do Muggle policemen do?"

"Depends on what department you’re in. The RCMP in Calgary handle things like drug trafficking, gang problems, traffic accidents outside of the city limits. We work a lot with local police for things like criminals from other provinces, or other countries. There’s a municipal force for the city, so unless something happens on an inter-provincial level, we don’t have much to do with the city." Draco shrugged. "We act as regular police in rural areas where there isn’t a municipal force, though I’ve never done that. I did get to my first year in the force catching speeders on the highway to Banff, though...it wasn’t exactly exciting."

"Banff?" George asked. "What’s Banff?"

Draco shook his head and settled down to explain.

When Angelina, Natalie and Ginny came back from doing the dishes, it was to find the three men involved in an in-depth discussion of the difference between Auroring and Muggle policing. Angelina sat down next to Fred on the couch, who moved closer to George to make room for her. Natalie curled up on the other chair, and Ginny sat on the floor by Draco’s feet, resting her chin on his knee. He smiled down at her and rested one hand on the back of her neck while he explained some point to George, who was listening avidly.

That earned him another guarded look, from Angelina this time, who raised her eyebrows when he met her eyes and smiled slightly. They talked far into the night, and it was very late, the children all sleeping in the bedrooms (except Timothy, who had wandered in when the other children were being put to bed, and was propped up against Fred’s leg and trying desperately to stay awake), when George caught Natalie in the middle of a yawn and said, "Time to go then, love?"

She laughed sheepishly and nodded. "I think so. I’ll be asleep right here any minute now." George smiled lovingly at her and stood up, extending a hand to lift Natalie to her feet.

"We should too," Angelina said. "Before we end up having to carry everyone home." She rested her hand lightly on Tim’s head, who yawned again and mumbled, "I’m not tired," which prompted a smile from all the adults.

Ginny stood up and stretched. "I’ll help you get the little ones up," she said, and led Natalie and Angelina back toward the master bedroom, where Sierra, Marjorie and Zach had been put to sleep earlier in the evening. Natalie came out a few moments later, a sleeping Marjorie hanging limply in her arms.

"She’s out like a light," Natalie said softly, rocking Marjorie slightly. "She won’t wake up ‘til morning, I don’t think." She nodded at Fred and Draco. "Good night...tell Ginny dinner was wonderful. Draco, it was a pleasure to meet you."

Draco nodded and smiled, lifting a hand in farewell as George threw Floo powder into the fireplace in the living room and Natalie stepped through. He nodded goodbye to the two men and followed her, stepping into the flames and saying "White Cottage" - the name of their small property in Malton - clearly.

Angelina appeared a moment later, ushering two very sleepy children in front of her, and Fred headed into the kitchen, followed by Draco. Fred shook Draco’s hand while Angelina put Sierra’s cloak on and Tim chivvied a sleepy-eyed Zach into his, yawning widely himself. "You should come ‘round the shop one of these days," Fred said. "We’ve got some gag Muggle things, but I don’t know how accurate they are. Gin doesn’t like to pick things up for us, for some reason." Ginny made an elaborate noise of disgust behind his back, and Fred grinned over his shoulder at her. "You should come round and have a look, tell us if they’re good enough to pass muster."

"Isn’t that illegal?" Ginny said pointedly. "Charming Muggle items? What if they get back into Muggle hands?"

"It’s not if they’re clearly joke gifts, George and I asked Dad. And anyway, they’re not Muggle-baiters, they’re just gag gifts. Like our joke wands, only Muggle things, wallets and those fancy picture boxes and the like." Fred turned back to Draco. "You should stop by."

"I might," Draco replied. "Where’s your shop at?"

"We’ve got a new space up near Flourish and Blotts, past Gringotts. I’ll give you the address, or you can get it off Ginny. Or ask Neville, he knows where it’s at. Bring him along, we’ll make him some Canary Creams." Fred flashed an impish grin as Angelina handed him his cloak. With a nod at Draco, he pecked Ginny on the cheek. "Thanks for dinner, Ginny, you’re a love."

Ginny shut the door behind them with an audible sigh of relief. "Whew. I’d forgotten how much work they can be."

Draco leaned against the half-wall separating the kitchen nook from the doorway. "That was interesting."

Ginny eyed him half-suspiciously. "You didn’t mind them? I was worried..."

"That we would get along like oil and water?" Draco smiled wryly. "They’re not that bad. Though it was a unique experience, being treated like I was a bomb about to go off by Natalie and Angelina."

Ginny blushed slightly. "Sorry, ‘bout that."

He shook his head and held his hand out to her, which she took, pushing herself away from the door. "They did stop after a while. I was actually expecting Fred and George to be a bit more...unreasonable."

Ginny laughed and slipped her arms around his waist. "Thinking they’d be like Ron?" she asked, and giggled as he nodded. "Ron’s a special sort of stubborn. The twins are a bit more easygoing, and I imagine they think that if threatening you didn’t scare you off, that your intentions must be good."

Draco chuckled at that. "They told you about that, did they?"

"Angelina did. She thought it was amusing." Ginny shook her head. "They’re terrible."

"Rest assured, I took it very much to heart," Draco said, his eyes dancing. He leaned forward to kiss her softly, then sighed. "I should probably go."

"You don’t have to," Ginny said, almost inaudibly.

"I - " He stopped and searched her face. She gazed back steadily, brushing her hands along his waist in a smooth caress, the casualness of her tone belied by the heat in her eyes. He smiled slowly, calling an answering smile from her. "All right."

~*~

Early June, 2011

Neville sighed and rubbed at his forehead, where a fierce, throbbing ache had settled behind his eyes. He let his eyes roam over Ginny’s kitchen without resting on anything, without meeting the worried eyes of the people gathered. The room was silent, the air thick with the tense strain of worry and grief. Finally he tilted his head back to gaze at the ceiling and said, "I’m going to call Malfoy."

He didn’t think Harry could get any more tense, but the other man’s shoulders seemed to ratchet up another notch at the name. "Why?"

"Because he’s better at this sort of thing that I am," Neville said quietly. "Because I’m willing to bet he’ll take one look at that note and know what’s going on. And I don’t. I really don’t know what to do."

Harry’s voice was like a saw. "I don’t want him involved in this."

"Bit late for that," Ron muttered quietly.

Ginny made a sound that might have been a sob. Neville winced in sympathy. "I know how all of you feel, believe me, I do. But I’m at a loss here...I’m sorry, Harry, but I’m going to call him." He pushed back his chair and moved to the door, pulling his cell phone out of the pocket of his robe.

He paced back and forth in the hall as he dialed Draco’s number quickly and waited, the phone pressed tightly to his ear. After 3 rings, Draco picked up.

"Malfoy," he said curtly.

"It’s me," Neville said. "We have a problem."

"Big or little?"

"Big. Jamie and Sarah have been kidnapped."

There was a silence so long that Neville worried he’d lost the connection. Then: "Shit," softly. There was a small pop, and Draco appeared in the hall next to Neville, hair loose and disheveled, as if he’d just woke up. "Shit," he said again.

Neville blinked, then decided not to be surprised that Draco had apparently replaced his wand. He folded up the phone and put it back in his pocket, and began to fill his partner in quickly. "It happened about 3 hours ago. Gin was at the store, she says she turned around to pick up Will, took her eyes off them for all of 2 seconds, turned back and they were gone. A note and a picture showed up to Harry via owl 30 minutes later and that’s all we’ve got to go on."

"Shit."

"Any time you want to add something constructive to this conversation..."

"Fuck you. How’s Ginny?

"She’s a wreck, as you can imagine. Harry isn’t being terribly helpful."

"Why am I not surprised? What’s the picture of?"

"Of the place they want Harry to meet them with the ransom money."

"How much do they want?"

"Five million Galleons."

"Shit."

"You keep saying that. Does it mean what you think it means?" Neville ducked away as Draco swiped at him. "There’s a small hitch."

"Only one?"

"Very funny. Three, actually. The first problem is that we don’t have five million Galleons - "

"I do. What else?"

"I always knew you’d come in useful someday. Second problem is we don’t know who the kidnappers are, since we don’t have enough clues to point us in any sort of direction to figure out who’s behind this."

"Great."

"The last problem is that we don’t know where the place in the picture is."

"Oh, God." Draco paced in a small circle and pushed his hands through his hair. "Show me this picture."

Neville hesitated.

"What?" Draco asked irritably.

"The whole Weasley clan is in there...and Harry."

"And I’ll bet they’ll all be just overjoyed to see me. Ask me if I care, Longbottom." Draco pushed past Neville and opened the front door, striding into the kitchen. A sea of heads turned to face him; the entire Weasley family had assembled on short notice, crowded into Ginny’s small kitchen. Angelina and Natalie were sitting on the living room couch with Percy and his wife Penelope. The twins were sitting at the kitchen table opposite Ginny, and Charlie, the burn scars standing out on his heavily muscled forearms, was leaning against the archway to the living room. Arthur and Molly were standing against one of the counters, Ron and Hermione at the other, and Harry was pacing in the small space left over in the middle of the kitchen. Percy stood up when Neville and Draco came in, and came to stand behind Charlie, the women standing as well to look over his shoulder.

Draco took one look at Ginny, sitting silently at the table, and went to her, kneeling by her chair and taking her hands in his. She looked terrible, like she’d been crying for hours, and had finally run out of tears, her eyes rimmed in red and her face blotchy. His heart ached just seeing her. As she looked into his eyes he could see that she was nearing the end of her strength. "It’ll be all right," he whispered softly, and she nodded without conviction. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms, but didn’t quite dare, with Harry and half the Weasley brothers glaring daggers at him. Draco knew Harry hadn’t talked to Ginny since her blowup with Sirius (and Draco was thanking his lucky stars that he wasn’t here), and could imagine how thrilled the other man was to see him.

Neville came over to the table and pushed the note and the picture toward Draco. He stood up and picked up the picture first. It had been taken with Muggle film, and showed an unassuming park, with a path running through the bottom of the frame, and trees surrounding a small picnic area. Draco stared at it for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Neville eyed him worriedly; he wasn’t sure what that look meant, and could only hope it was good. "Well? What do you think?" he said finally, unable to wait any longer.

Draco raised his eyes to Neville’s and shook his head slightly. Neville’s shoulders slumped. He had been so sure that Draco would know. Draco placed the picture back on the table and leaned forward on his hands, head down and eyes closed.

The rest of the Weasleys were looking from Neville to Draco and back. Finally Arthur spoke up. "So...what now? If - if we can’t pay these people, whoever they are, what will happen? What do they want?"

Draco didn’t raise his head. "Money," he said succinctly.

"Money?" Harry repeated incredulously. "If they wanted money, why didn’t they pick some place we recognized? Somewhere we could meet them to give them the damn money, if that’s what they want badly enough to take my children?"

"Greed." Draco raised his head to meet Harry’s gaze. "Because they want more money than they’re asking for. They’ll probably do this two or three times, upping the ransom each time, trying to milk you for all they can get."

"I don’t have that much money!" Harry hissed, and ran his hands through his hair, making it stand on end. He, like Ginny, looked terrible, pale and worried. "Dammit! I’m not exactly hurting for cash, but I don’t have that sort of money! And what happens if we don’t figure it out...if we don’t pay?"

"It depends," Draco said steadily. "On how much nerve they have. They may eventually give up and simply hand over the children, we may find them, or..." he left the sentence hanging. Molly made a small sound and pressed her hand to her mouth, and Ginny swayed slightly in her chair and closed her eyes, but didn’t say anything.

"It won’t come to that," Neville said quickly. "With any luck, we will figure out where this is, and then catch them when they come to collect."

Draco nodded, then leaned forward and reached out to slide the note toward himself. His hand stopped an inch from the paper, and he frowned, lifting his hand away. "It’s spelled."

"What?" Half a dozen voices repeated, and the corner of Draco’s mouth quirked up as he looked around the room.

"The paper is spelled," he repeated. "Whoever sent that note, put some sort of spell on it." Draco let out an amused snort as everyone drew their wands.

Ron leaned forward and poked at the paper with the tip of his wand. "What sort of spell?"

"I don’t know," Draco said patiently. "But there is one."

"Hermione?" Neville raised his eyebrows at her and gestured at the paper in invitation. She stepped forward and repeated Ron’s gesture, prodding at the paper with her wand, whispering under her breath. There was a faint whooshing noise, and the paper began to glow blue.

"Well that’s interesting," she said softly, and touched the paper again. A small spray of sparks erupted from the tip of her wand, winking out quickly and changing the tint of the glow from blue to a soft green. She frowned, and whispered something else, waving her wand above the paper. The glow deepened and then seemed to send out feelers, to Harry, Ginny, Ron, Arthur and Molly. "Very interesting. It’s some sort of communication spell, and it’s keyed itself to the first people who touched it." She gestured to the feelers of light. "One way, obviously, so they can hear us, but we can’t hear them." She tapped her wand against the palm of her hand, looking thoughtful. "I would guess that it allows the caster of the spell to hear whatever the first five who touched it are saying. Not a spell I’m familiar with, but I could hazard a guess as to how it works."

"Could you get rid of it?" Neville asked.

"Could you reverse it?"

Hermione looked up at Draco, startled. "I...I don’t know. I’d have to know for sure what sort of spell it is before I could try that."

"It’s a temero defero spell," Draco said, looking at her with shuttered eyes. "If that helps."

Ron’s head jerked up and he glared at Draco suspiciously. "Isn’t that a Dark Arts spell?"

"Ron," Hermione said in exasperation. "Don’t start."

"In fact, it might be a good idea if you didn’t talk at all. Anyone who’s keyed to it." Neville said quickly, as Ron shot him a dirty look.

"He’s right, dear," Hermione said to Ron, who snapped his mouth shut and glowered. She looked at Draco. "If it is a temero defero spell, then I don’t think it can be reversed, but I can take it off."

Draco and Neville both nodded, and she waved her wand over the paper again, whispering quickly, then tapped the paper and said "finite incanteum" loudly. The glow around the paper intensified, then faded away. Hermione looked up and nodded at them. "That should do it."

Draco reached over and picked up the note, reading it quickly, brow furrowed. The note itself was short and to the point:

Dear Mr.Potter,

You have exactly 2 days to meet us at the place you see in this picture with five million Galleons in untraceable coins. We will expect you at 12 midnight. Come alone if you wish to see your children alive. If you are not at the appointed place at the appointed time, we will be forced to resort to sterner measures, and our price for the safety of your children will unfortunately rise. Please don’t try to contact the authorities, as we will know if you do and will be forced to take appropriate measures.

We look forward to making your acquaintance.

He held it for a long moment, looking thoughtful, then handed Neville the piece of paper. "What does that remind you of?"

Neville took the note and looked at it with a considering frown. Finally he looked up and shook his head in bewilderment. "I don’t know what you mean."

"The pendant," Draco said meaningfully, while everyone looked at him strangely.

Hermione blinked, then her eyes went wide as she caught on. "The one that you brought to me!"

Neville’s jaw dropped in astonishment. "Oh...oh. You’re right."

Draco allowed himself a tight, satisfied smile. "And now we know who."

"Jesus," Neville breathed. "Audacious little bastards. I guess they did get bored of robbing banks." He ignored the quizzical looks and leaned over to look at the picture again. "Now all we have to do is figure out where. You really don’t recognize it?"

Draco shook his head. "It looks familiar, but I’m not sure. If it is them, then at a guess, they’ve decided to pick somewhere close to home for this little ploy. None of you would recognize it, of course, which would give them the opportunity to try again, for more cash. I’m betting it’s somewhere in Alberta, and probably Calgary. I’d need to show it to some people to be sure, though." Neville nodded and pushed the photo back toward him, and Draco picked it up, tucking it into the inner pocket of his jacket. Harry glared as if he wanted badly to protest, but held his silence.

"So what now?" Arthur Weasley spoke up from his corner of the kitchen, where he stood with his arms around Molly, who had clearly been weeping right along with Ginny.

Neville looked at him. "I’ll go down to the Ministry and talk to Cecil, and once we sort out the details, like the money - " he looked at Draco for confirmation, who nodded, " - and all of that straightened out on this end, and provided Malfoy is right and it is in Canada, then we’ll go there and sort things out there."

"And what about the money?" Harry demanded. "I don’t have that much, and I highly doubt that the Ministry is just going to hand you 5 million galleons."

Neville looked at Draco, who pressed his lips together and looked exactly as if he were trying not to roll his eyes. "Actually," he said tightly. "The money is not going to come from the Ministry. It will come from the Malfoy estate." He smiled thinly at Harry, who glared daggers at him and took a quick breath, obviously about to tell Draco what he could do with his money. Hermione reached over, tapped Harry on the arm, and shook her head slightly. Harry glanced at her and set his jaw, but he looked away from Draco and didn’t say anything.

"But the note said Harry has to go alone," Ginny said tensely from her seat at the table. "How are you going to do this? Is it going to be safe?"

Draco and Neville looked at each other, then Draco knelt beside her chair and took her hands again. "If we’re right about who’s done this and where they are, it’s just a matter of getting the manpower and the details sorted out. It’s perfectly safe, and we’ll get Sarah and Jamie back soon. They won’t be in any danger, I promise."

"Then I want to go too." Ginny raised her chin defiantly. "I want to be there, if Harry gets to go. They’re my children, my babies. I want to be there to take them home."

"Of course," Draco said simply. Ginny, clearly expecting to have to fight, opened her mouth as if to argue, then closed it again. Her fingers tightened on Draco’s, and her eyes suddenly filled with tears, although they didn’t spill over onto her cheeks.

"Thank you," she said softly.

The room erupted with male voices. "You can’t expect her to go - "

"She has to stay here, where it’s safe!"

"Don’t be a fool, you can’t take Ginny into that sort of situation!"

"What if something happens?"

Neville raised his voice, trying to calm the Weasley brothers. "It’ll be fine - "

Draco grinned wryly at her. "And now I have 6 - no, 7 men lined up to kill me if anything does happen," he said, his voice low so that only she could hear him under the room full of people yelling. "8, if you want to include Neville." She smiled tremulously back.

"I’ll protect you," she said, just as quietly, and his smile deepened.

"It’ll be fine, Ginny. I swear it will. We’ll get them back, and everything will be fine." Draco said seriously. He gazed intently into her eyes, his fingers entwined with hers. "Believe me. Everything is going to be all right."


"I do. I believe you," she whispered, and this time a tear escaped from her eye and tracked slowly down her cheek. Draco raised his hand and gently brushed it away. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, kiss her breathless and never let her go, but he realized it was probably not a good idea right at the moment, with her entire family in the room arguing loudly over her safety. He squeezed her hands gently and stood up, ignoring Harry, who was giving him the evil eye.

"We should go," he said to Neville, who was still arguing with Charlie and Arthur. "We’ve got a lot to do."

Neville nodded and made his way around the table to the door. "I’ll go find Cecil right away. You going to head to Gringotts?"

Draco nodded. "Then I’ll go home and talk to the RCMP, see if anyone there recognizes the place. It’s still about noon over there. Once you’re done here, apparate over and we’ll get everything organized on that end, since I need you to talk to the Canadian MoM for me. You’ve still got that trace on my phone, so you’ll know where to go."

Neville’s mouth twitched as he recalled the last time he’d used the trace. "All right," he said, then turned to Harry. "I’ll come get you and Gin when I’m ready to leave. Hopefully it won’t be long, probably tomorrow evening or so. Try to get some rest in the meantime," Neville said as Draco met him at the door. They both stepped into the hall, followed by Ginny, Harry and Ron, while the rest of the Weasley clan crowded the doorway. Draco turned to look at Ginny, who was leaning against the wall, her face white and drawn.

Draco looked at her a moment, then muttered "fuck it," under his breath, and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "It’ll be all right," he breathed into her hair, then leaned back, took her face in his hands and kissed her. "It will," he said fiercely, and stepped back, ignoring Harry, who looked ready to kill. Ginny brushed the back of his hand with her fingers and smiled at him, her first real smile since the children had vanished. Draco smiled back, and apparated away.

~*~
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