It was early October, and the weather had begun its transition towards winter in earnest. Ginny sat curled on her living room sofa, a thick, down comforter wrapped snugly around her. Intent on the book in her hand, she was perfectly still but for the movement of her eyes across the text and the occasional turn of a page. A steaming cup of Earl Grey rested on a nearby coffee table. Mornings like this were Ginny’s favorite. Protected from the chill by a feather-stuffed cocoon, reading tales of love and adventure, there were few luxuries in life that could compare with these. Sighing happily, she snuggled further into the comforter and reached for her tea when movement caught her eye.
Pigwidgeon flapped frantically outside Ginny’s window. Age had mellowed the owl’s exuberance a little, but he was still the most excitable bird she’d ever come across. A small roll of parchment was fastened to Pig’s leg. Carefully extracting herself from her nest, Ginny tiptoed across the cold floor and let the little owl inside. Pig thrust his leg forward and hooted cheerfully as he waited for her to retrieve the missive. Once his mission was complete, Pig turned and fluttered away.
Ginny watched him go with a smile, then unrolled the note Ron had sent her. There was a single sentence written in her brother’s untidy scrawl.
Malfoy has been released.
For several minutes Ginny just stared at the words on the paper.
Malfoy has been released.
Draco was free.
* * * * * * * * * *
Draco felt an odd sense of camaraderie with his childhood home as he pulled the sheets off of the furniture. Dust swirled around him, covering his prison-issue clothes and making him sneeze. Malfoy Manor had been empty since Narcissa Malfoy relocated to France after Draco’s incarceration.
Abandoned. Forgotten.
Like Draco.
Wiping the grime from his face, he moved on to the next piece of furniture. It was time to bring the house back to life.
* * * * * * * * * *
Two months passed before she crossed his path. To avoid the five o’clock crowds, Ginny left work early to visit Gringotts. As she followed behind the goblin that would take her to her vault, she saw him.
The years in Azkaban had aged Draco. His face was gaunt; his blond hair turned silvery at the temples. Though he had always been slender, Draco’s robes now hung more limply on his frame. As though sensed her stare, Draco turned and met Ginny’s gaze. Surprise passed over his face, and he inclined his head in greeting. Awkwardly, she returned the gesture before being hurried down another corridor.
* * * * * * * * * *
Standing in the December wind waiting for his former wife to exit the bank, Draco felt foolish. What was there to say? Their relationship had died years ago. They’d practically been children when they married, drawn to each other in wartime. A tempestuous, fevered love spawned by the uncertainty of days ahead. It had been doomed from the start, everyone told them so. Everyone had been proven right. Still he stayed, shivering on the bank steps, searching for a flash of ginger hair.
At length Ginny appeared, tugging her cloak tightly around her to ward against the cold. She spotted him and Draco started toward her, anticipation knotting his stomach.
* * * * * * * * * *
Ginny wondered at the rush of excitement she experienced when she saw Draco waiting in front of Gringotts. He had to be waiting for her, didn’t he? Anxiety washed over her. Who else could he be looking for? He’d only recently got out of prison; his social connections were likely limited. Confirmation came moments later, when their eyes met and Draco moved her direction.
“Ginny! I’m so glad I ran into you! I haven’t seen you in ages!”
Dean Thomas swept the redhead into an unexpected embrace and twirled her around. Ginny looked back just in time to see Draco Apparate away. Swallowing her disappointment, she smiled at her old friend.
“Hello, Dean. What a nice surprise.”
* * * * * * * * * * *
Back at the Manor, Draco told himself that it was just as well he hadn’t spoken to Ginny. The excitement he felt at seeing her was only a reaction to seeing a familiar face. Since his release, he hadn’t socialized. Company and conversation were all he was missing, not his wife. Ex-wife, Draco reminded himself.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. Draco opened it to find Ginny on his doorstep looking uncertain.
“Hello, Draco,” she said. “It’s been a long time.”
His mouth felt very dry all of a sudden, so he did not respond. Stepping back, he motioned for Ginny to come inside. As she stepped through the doorway, Draco took the opportunity to study her. The familiar fiery hair flowed past her shoulders, curling flatteringly atop her breasts. Now thirty-one, Ginny had acquired a more voluptuous, womanly figure than the athletic build she’d had when last he saw her. It suited her well.
Ginny spoke again, eyes cast downward as she fidgeted with her sleeve. “I’m sorry to barge in like this. I thought you were coming over to me at Gringotts, but then Dean showed up and you disappeared.”
“Yes, well, I…” Draco’s voice trailed off and he looked sheepish. “I didn’t know what to say.”
Peering up at him through her lashes, Ginny smirked. “This is awkward as arse, isn’t it? It’s strange. There was a time when I wouldn’t have believed I could be awkward around you.”
Draco’s stomach responded to her statement with a little flip. He turned away hastily, feeling exposed. “That was a long time ago.”
* * * * * * * * * *
It pained Ginny to see him discomfited. Draco had always been so cocksure and audacious. With such similar temperaments, they’d butted heads many times during their short marriage. His certainty of himself and of their relationship had been comforting, though. Over the years, Ginny had missed that reckless confidence many times. Seeing him now, self-conscious and looking like a shadow of his former self, she couldn’t decide if she wanted to pull Draco into her arms and tell him everything would be alright or smack him good and hard and shout at him to buck up. In the end, she did neither.
“I wanted to write you,” she blurted suddenly. “When I heard you’d been released, I mean.”
The cold stare Draco fixed on her was not the reaction Ginny expected. In an instant, the discomfort she’d perceived in Draco melted away, replaced by bitter tension.
“And what would you have said in your letter, Ginny? ‘Dear Draco, I heard you were out of prison. Sorry I haven’t written before now. Let’s have a pint sometime, yeah?’”
“What?” Ginny breathed, confusion evident on her face.
“Twelve years I was in Azkaban. The only time I had any word from you was when you sent me signed divorce papers,” the blond seethed.
A red hue stained Ginny’s face. “You filed for divorce, Draco, not me”
“I gave you an out, and you took it readily enough.”
Ginny was incredulous, but more than that she was angry. “What did you expect, Draco? You filed for divorce! I wasn’t going to become some pathetic woman who can’t accept that her husband no longer wants her. I wasn’t going to make things harder for you than they already were.”
“Of course I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you,” he spat, looking at Ginny as though she was quite insane.
“Men who want their wives send letters or cards. They don’t send papers to dissolve their marriage.”
Glaring, he retorted, “I was going to prison! Scrimgeour was determined to send me away for a long time for what happened at Hogwarts once I’d outlived my usefulness as an informant. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to me. I was trying to do be selfless and do what was best for you!”
Rubbing her temple to ease the headache she’d developed during this conversation, Ginny asked, “So, you’re angry with me for agreeing to the divorce you initiated for my benefit?”
Draco threw up his hands in exasperation. “I didn’t expect you to agree! Since when do you go along with someone else’s idea of what’s best for you? You hate that heroic shite!”
He was surprised, to say the least, when Ginny started to laugh. He was more surprised, though not unpleasantly so, when she pulled him into a kiss that took his breath away.
Ginny stepped back after she finally broke the kiss, and punched Draco hard in the arm. What a bloody mess he’d made of everything!
“Leave the martyrdom to someone else, Draco. You’re rubbish at it.”
Pigwidgeon flapped frantically outside Ginny’s window. Age had mellowed the owl’s exuberance a little, but he was still the most excitable bird she’d ever come across. A small roll of parchment was fastened to Pig’s leg. Carefully extracting herself from her nest, Ginny tiptoed across the cold floor and let the little owl inside. Pig thrust his leg forward and hooted cheerfully as he waited for her to retrieve the missive. Once his mission was complete, Pig turned and fluttered away.
Ginny watched him go with a smile, then unrolled the note Ron had sent her. There was a single sentence written in her brother’s untidy scrawl.
Malfoy has been released.
For several minutes Ginny just stared at the words on the paper.
Malfoy has been released.
Draco was free.
* * * * * * * * * *
Draco felt an odd sense of camaraderie with his childhood home as he pulled the sheets off of the furniture. Dust swirled around him, covering his prison-issue clothes and making him sneeze. Malfoy Manor had been empty since Narcissa Malfoy relocated to France after Draco’s incarceration.
Abandoned. Forgotten.
Like Draco.
Wiping the grime from his face, he moved on to the next piece of furniture. It was time to bring the house back to life.
* * * * * * * * * *
Two months passed before she crossed his path. To avoid the five o’clock crowds, Ginny left work early to visit Gringotts. As she followed behind the goblin that would take her to her vault, she saw him.
The years in Azkaban had aged Draco. His face was gaunt; his blond hair turned silvery at the temples. Though he had always been slender, Draco’s robes now hung more limply on his frame. As though sensed her stare, Draco turned and met Ginny’s gaze. Surprise passed over his face, and he inclined his head in greeting. Awkwardly, she returned the gesture before being hurried down another corridor.
* * * * * * * * * *
Standing in the December wind waiting for his former wife to exit the bank, Draco felt foolish. What was there to say? Their relationship had died years ago. They’d practically been children when they married, drawn to each other in wartime. A tempestuous, fevered love spawned by the uncertainty of days ahead. It had been doomed from the start, everyone told them so. Everyone had been proven right. Still he stayed, shivering on the bank steps, searching for a flash of ginger hair.
At length Ginny appeared, tugging her cloak tightly around her to ward against the cold. She spotted him and Draco started toward her, anticipation knotting his stomach.
* * * * * * * * * *
Ginny wondered at the rush of excitement she experienced when she saw Draco waiting in front of Gringotts. He had to be waiting for her, didn’t he? Anxiety washed over her. Who else could he be looking for? He’d only recently got out of prison; his social connections were likely limited. Confirmation came moments later, when their eyes met and Draco moved her direction.
“Ginny! I’m so glad I ran into you! I haven’t seen you in ages!”
Dean Thomas swept the redhead into an unexpected embrace and twirled her around. Ginny looked back just in time to see Draco Apparate away. Swallowing her disappointment, she smiled at her old friend.
“Hello, Dean. What a nice surprise.”
* * * * * * * * * * *
Back at the Manor, Draco told himself that it was just as well he hadn’t spoken to Ginny. The excitement he felt at seeing her was only a reaction to seeing a familiar face. Since his release, he hadn’t socialized. Company and conversation were all he was missing, not his wife. Ex-wife, Draco reminded himself.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. Draco opened it to find Ginny on his doorstep looking uncertain.
“Hello, Draco,” she said. “It’s been a long time.”
His mouth felt very dry all of a sudden, so he did not respond. Stepping back, he motioned for Ginny to come inside. As she stepped through the doorway, Draco took the opportunity to study her. The familiar fiery hair flowed past her shoulders, curling flatteringly atop her breasts. Now thirty-one, Ginny had acquired a more voluptuous, womanly figure than the athletic build she’d had when last he saw her. It suited her well.
Ginny spoke again, eyes cast downward as she fidgeted with her sleeve. “I’m sorry to barge in like this. I thought you were coming over to me at Gringotts, but then Dean showed up and you disappeared.”
“Yes, well, I…” Draco’s voice trailed off and he looked sheepish. “I didn’t know what to say.”
Peering up at him through her lashes, Ginny smirked. “This is awkward as arse, isn’t it? It’s strange. There was a time when I wouldn’t have believed I could be awkward around you.”
Draco’s stomach responded to her statement with a little flip. He turned away hastily, feeling exposed. “That was a long time ago.”
* * * * * * * * * *
It pained Ginny to see him discomfited. Draco had always been so cocksure and audacious. With such similar temperaments, they’d butted heads many times during their short marriage. His certainty of himself and of their relationship had been comforting, though. Over the years, Ginny had missed that reckless confidence many times. Seeing him now, self-conscious and looking like a shadow of his former self, she couldn’t decide if she wanted to pull Draco into her arms and tell him everything would be alright or smack him good and hard and shout at him to buck up. In the end, she did neither.
“I wanted to write you,” she blurted suddenly. “When I heard you’d been released, I mean.”
The cold stare Draco fixed on her was not the reaction Ginny expected. In an instant, the discomfort she’d perceived in Draco melted away, replaced by bitter tension.
“And what would you have said in your letter, Ginny? ‘Dear Draco, I heard you were out of prison. Sorry I haven’t written before now. Let’s have a pint sometime, yeah?’”
“What?” Ginny breathed, confusion evident on her face.
“Twelve years I was in Azkaban. The only time I had any word from you was when you sent me signed divorce papers,” the blond seethed.
A red hue stained Ginny’s face. “You filed for divorce, Draco, not me”
“I gave you an out, and you took it readily enough.”
Ginny was incredulous, but more than that she was angry. “What did you expect, Draco? You filed for divorce! I wasn’t going to become some pathetic woman who can’t accept that her husband no longer wants her. I wasn’t going to make things harder for you than they already were.”
“Of course I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you,” he spat, looking at Ginny as though she was quite insane.
“Men who want their wives send letters or cards. They don’t send papers to dissolve their marriage.”
Glaring, he retorted, “I was going to prison! Scrimgeour was determined to send me away for a long time for what happened at Hogwarts once I’d outlived my usefulness as an informant. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to me. I was trying to do be selfless and do what was best for you!”
Rubbing her temple to ease the headache she’d developed during this conversation, Ginny asked, “So, you’re angry with me for agreeing to the divorce you initiated for my benefit?”
Draco threw up his hands in exasperation. “I didn’t expect you to agree! Since when do you go along with someone else’s idea of what’s best for you? You hate that heroic shite!”
He was surprised, to say the least, when Ginny started to laugh. He was more surprised, though not unpleasantly so, when she pulled him into a kiss that took his breath away.
Ginny stepped back after she finally broke the kiss, and punched Draco hard in the arm. What a bloody mess he’d made of everything!
“Leave the martyrdom to someone else, Draco. You’re rubbish at it.”
The End.
KateinVA is the author of 15 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 16 members. Members who liked Reunion also liked 1437 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 16 members. Members who liked Reunion also liked 1437 other stories.
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