Chapter Twenty-Five
As quiet as his voice had been, it could have been a shout for the response it garnered from the two older wizards. Both turned to look at the blond with a speed that she was worried might cause some type of whipped lash, or whatever they called it on the telly. With Draco’s driving it was not a foreign concept for the witch, though neither of her mentors seemed to be suffering any of its effects as they suddenly pinned her partner to the floor with their three good eyes. The magical orb, she noted distantly, was still fixed on the partially opened bag containing Nagini on the large table that had been covered with research material every other time she had been in these rooms.
“What did you just say?” The words came out with an almost menacing edge, though both teens caught the shade of what could have been excitement, which appeared mirrored in the face of the former Headmaster nearby.
Even so, it took a second for Draco to find his voice in the face of Alastor Moody’s sharp interest. “Liquefiat… sir.”
The former, if unwilling, Death Eater wasn’t one that would normally use such a term in regular conversation anymore, but considering the narrow gaze of the infamous Auror, he decided to err on the side of caution. He just barely noticed the ever so slight nod given by the redhead next to him and figured it was probably a good call. Any thoughts of manners or proper respect were immediately overridden by the advance of the grizzled wizard. Acting more on the desire not to be at a disadvantage than showing respect, the Malfoy heir rose to his feet as Dumbledore raised his good hand to halt his colleague’s movement towards the blond.
“Interesting choice, my boy, what exactly do you propose that we liquefy?”
“Ginny was just saying that the thing that stood out the most about her memories of the snake were the eyes, and that Potter can see through Nagini’s eyes like he can the Dark Lord’s so the link between V-Voldemort and his pet is probably through the eyes. If the link between them is in fact attached to the presence of the Horcrux inside the snake, I thought maybe that would be the place to concentrate on.”
“Indeed, the concept does sound promising. Alastor?” The aged wizard turned to the man who had been running the Order in his stead for nearly a year.
The suspicious way the good eye regarded Draco was hardly surprising to anyone in the room, but the gruff sound of agreement and slight nod of his head was not what the others had expected. “We did have to melt the cup.”
The bespectacled wizard tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Thus changing the basic structure and makeup of the physical item in order to separate and release the Horcrux within. Yes, yes, promising indeed.” The twinkle in the blue eyes which swung towards the last occupant of the room was sharp, bright, and just a touch dangerous.
Ginny swallowed once, gathering her thoughts from the single minded and almost frantic search of every memory, feeling and intuition she had the moment she realized where the conversation was headed. Having stood at the same time as her former housemate, the redhead made a visible effort to remain where she was. “Nothing specific, sir,” she admitted in answer to the former Headmaster’s silent question. “But,”
She bit her lip as Moody latched immediately onto that one word, taking a step towards her in what she would have considered a threatening gesture before they’d started working together. “What, Weasley? What do you know?”
She refrained from repeating that she hadn’t seen any specific memory or suddenly known anything about the snake like she had with the cup or the desk, instead stating exactly what she had felt as soon as Draco had finished his explanation. “I want to. I just suddenly, for no specific reason, have an urge to do it.”
The two war veterans turned to each other without another word, then a heartbeat later, turned simultaneously back towards the table. The elder swiftly vanished the bag still partially obscuring the huge snake with a flick of his wrist. Before Dumbledore had lowered his good arm, Mad-Eye was pointing his wand at the closed eyes of the final Horcrux with a shout.
“Liquefiat!”
The word was immediately lost in a loud roar as something resembling a shock wave exploded from the snake in ripples of sound and energy that left all four struggling to remain upright. When the wave had reached the walls of the dilapidated rooms it snapped back forcefully, pulling everyone a single step towards the table. The movement made it impossible to not hear the bubbling hiss that emitted from the coiled body as first its eyes, then the rest of Nagini’s scaled form dissolved first into a nauseating slime, then nothing more than an unpleasant aroma. Several seconds followed during which the witnesses could only blink in disbelief before finally turning to each other with matching looks of disturbed surprise.
Ginny was the first to find her voice, unsteady as it might have been. “Not exactly what I was expecting, but I’ll take it, I suppose.”
The comment prompted a barking laugh from the grizzled wizard who had acted as her mentor since the night her memories had prompted her to break into the very rooms they were standing in. “Bloody right,” Moody snarled as he turned his attention from the redhead to the white haired wizard beside him. “Albus.”
The brief word earned him a solemn nod. “Indeed, Alastor.” The agreement barely needed to be spoken aloud as the Head and Acting Head of the Order of the Phoenix leapt into action, gathering the few things they needed before dropping the wards momentarily and Apparating away with nothing more than the words, “stay safe” and a set of curt nods in Draco and Ginny’s direction.
Any response that the blond or redhead would have made was drowned out by the uncharacteristically loud pop of the older wizards’ departure followed by the dull echo of the wards snapping back into place, in the wake of which, a heavy silence descended. Both of the now-former partners opened their mouth more than once over the next minute or so, as if to say something, only to sigh or shake their head and remain silent. Their role in the final showdown was complete and there was nothing left for them to do but wait and hope that taking the Horcruxes out of the equation was enough to ensure Voldemort’s defeat. To that end, it was all in the Order’s hands now, along with the map and notes they had written up at the airstrip.
Draco wouldn’t be the least but surprised if those notes weren’t currently in the hands of Saint Potter himself. It had been the general consensus between the heads of the Order and the two young Horcrux hunters – though if you asked him, thieves was probably the most apt description – that since Nagini had been there it was most likely that the Dark Lord would be at the camp on the other end of the cave. And where Voldemort was likely to be, the Boy-Who-Lived was likely to go.
For all that he and Ginny had been entrusted with the nearly impossible task of finding, taking, and helping destroy the pieces of his evil soul, the Dark Lord himself could only be killed by his prophesied equal. The blond did not envy his old nemesis that particular job. His had been bad enough. Though he mentally revised that assessment of his assignment with the young witch beside him. Bad was not the first word that came to his mind when he replayed their time working together. Parts of it had been quite enjoyable if he were being honest. One part in particular, but he wasn’t going to think about that now. Better to focus elsewhere.
Keeping his mind on something other than the spontaneous kiss they had shared not long before was easier said than done. And not just for him. Ginny also found her thoughts returning to the event regardless of her intentions otherwise. The quiet room grew increasingly tense as they forced themselves to hold a stilted conversation about what could be happening at that moment back at the caves or the other Death Eater hideouts that had been located over the past few months.
Although the redhead found the talk of the multiple battlefields and their possible outcomes to be a stressful way of occupying herself, it was what they were not saying that caused her to snap. Ginny’s voice broke into the pointedly emotionless drone of Draco’s words with sudden volume, causing the blond to rear back slightly in surprise.
“How the bloody hall can you just sit there and talk about likely combat scenarios when we…” She cut herself off as quickly as she had him a moment earlier, forced to make a sweeping gesture with her arms to fill in the words she found she was unable to actually say out loud.
The wizard-cum-Muggle daredevil raised his eyebrows in only partially feigned shock as he tried to convince himself that she was referring to anything except what he knew she was referring to. It took a considerable amount of his self-control to keep his tone steady and nonchalant. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak arm-flailing, what exactly are you talking about?”
Draco congratulated himself on the almost teasing way he’d managed to speak past the rising feeling of panic and hope at her words. He received only a glare for his efforts. “You know exactly what I mean, Draco Malfoy.”
The chastisement was probably meant to be somewhat cutting, but the blush sweeping up her throat and across her cheeks took any bite out of the exclamation. He couldn’t help smirking at the appealing sight, the amused expression prompting what sounded like a growl from the petite redhead. He barely had time to blink in reaction to the unexpectedly menacing noise before whatever control she had been exercising evaporated completely. He hadn’t even processed the fact that she had moved, when his housemate lunged at him, her lips landing almost violently on his.
All humor left him on a quickly drawn breath. Shocked at her own actions and suddenly fearful that his sharp inhale indicated that her action had not been welcomed, the redhead began to pull back. A pale hand swiftly rose to tangle in her disheveled hair, preventing the retreat and instead drawing her closer as the kiss gained in intensity. It wasn’t until air became an issue for both of them that the two separated, though it was only far enough for them to be able to gasp in needed oxygen.
“That. We did-” Ginny’s attempt at answering the question that had preceded the passionate exchange was cut off with another kiss, no less intense for its brevity as he pulled back again a moment later.
“Yes, we did.” His words washed over her face in a rush of hot breath and he barely started to say that they should do it again when she smothered the words with her lips.
Conversation as a whole ceased entirely for quite some time as the former partners released all their pent up fear and hope and pure nerves in a snog that ranged from tender to near violent. When they were finally catching their breath again it was interspersed with laughter and blushes that were tamped down with headshakes and shyly bitten lips only to bubble forth yet again as soon as their eyes met over the mere inches that separated them. Soon enough, exhaustion won out over the rush of emotions and the two eventually settled down in their corner of Moody’s outer room at Grimmauld Place.
His fingers raked gently through her russet strands as the youngest Weasley settled her head on his chest. This time the silence between them was comfortable and as relaxed as it could be considering they were still waiting for word on the outcome of the final confrontation with the Dark Lord. Even so, it wasn’t long before their quiet voices filled the still air as they softly discussed some of the crazy things they had done during their respective stays at the Tonks’ home. A more serious topic kept returning to the front of his mind, however, and it wasn’t more than half an hour later that the heavy statement fell from his lips with very little permission from his brain.
“I don’t know if I want to go back.” The thought that not too long ago he would have considered a betrayal of everything he and his family stood for left a feeling of relief in its wake, though the way her shoulders had climbed towards her ears as soon as he’d said it indicated that Ginny did not feel the same. Unsure what she would say or how that response might dull the pleasant lightness in his chest, which had combined quite favorably with the even more positive sensations from their kisses, he continued. “Not just Hogwarts. I don’t know if I want to go back at all. I’ve made a life for myself, a real one and I…”
He was nearly as tense as she was when he forced out the thing that had been hovering in the very back of his mind for months. “I don’t want to be the person I was before. What if coming back, using magic, not doing taekwondo or motorbike racing… what if I become him again when I lose my Muggle life?”
The young witch tried to respond, to tell him she wouldn’t let that happen, but three thoughts prevented it. First, she recalled how little she had heard Hermione talk about her life in the Muggle world in the past few years and how much time the curly-haired witch had spent at the Burrow over the summers rather than her parents’ home. Second, Ginny pictured the hard mask this wizard had always worn in public as the crowds parted before him as if they might be struck or contaminated if they got to close. Then she compared it to the open joy she had witnessed him exude when he was performing dangerous stunts with his new friends and a tendril of worry grew in her. But it was the third thing that made her truly pause… when I lose my Muggle life he had said. Lose, not leave. It wasn’t just what he would have to deal with in the Wizarding World that he didn’t want, it was that he wanted what he had in the Muggle World instead.
He became more and more tense as he waited for her to say something. Before his stomach could clench too tightly in anticipation of her response, the slamming of a door echoed through the house, waking the screaming portrait in the front hall and prompting both to scramble hastily to their feet.
The various members of the advancing group talked over and around each other, the volume of the simultaneous conversations more than loud enough to cover the sound of Ginny opening the door to Moody’s rooms so she could glance over the group. The bright hair of the twins, Charlie, and Ron made them easy to spot and she let out a sigh of relief at the lack of obvious injuries. The Weasley matriarch of course, was automatically distinguishable by the mere echo of her constant stream of concerned comments. It didn’t take long for that concern to be shifted in her direction when the housewitch spotted her only daughter in the doorway.
“Oh Ginny, dear! There you are, they said you were here safe. Thank goodness you were away from it all. Dreadful, just dreadful. Bill is with Fleur at St. Mungo’s, nothing serious but best to be safe. And your father’s with poor Harry at the hospital wing so Poppy can keep an eye on him. He plain wore himself out, the brave dear, passed out as soon as it was all over. Ron wanted to be with him of course, but I said-”
Where the woman was able to get the air to scream Ginny didn’t know, she certainly hadn’t paused for breath as she’d fussed her way over to the doorway, but scream she did. The youngest Weasley didn’t have to glance behind her to know exactly what had set her mother off. The cry had everyone else looking, though, as they rushed forward, wands drawn. Ginny’s response was as automatic as the rest, though she jumped towards the blond to place herself protectively at his side rather than aim stunners at his head. Before the spells had fully left the raised wands, there was a flurry of movement.
Draco spun rapidly on his heel, knocking the wands out of the three hands closest to him with a single kick before falling back into a fighting stance to the left and slightly in front of his fellow Horcrux hunter. As his feet planted themselves, the petite redhead was raising a shield around them both. The shield almost didn’t finish forming before a multitude of spells hit it, bouncing off and stunning two of the Order who had thrown them.
The cacophony of shouts that were then aimed at them ranged from orders for Ginny to get away, to expletives in combination with the name Malfoy. Brown eyes rolled at the overreaction occurring in front of her, but knowing the others as she did, the witch knew stunners and shouts and cursing were only the start. And even if she could get a word in edgewise experience told her not a single one of them would listen to what she had to say before they finished attacking the wizard they had previously thought dead with his parents months before.
“Moody! Professor! A little help in here!”
The two wizards in question were already making their way towards the uproar but obviously hastened their progress through the crowd blocking the doorway in response to the shout for help. As soon as he’d entered the rooms that had hidden him for so long, Albus Dumbledore began politely addressing the violent crowd. “Now now, everyone, I assure you there is no cause for fuss.”
The Tonks’ former house guest let out a sigh of relief at the wizards’ arrival, though her expression didn’t carry any hint of surprise at the presence of someone that until that morning, the entire Order, aside from Moody, had thought dead. The idea that little Ginny Weasley had known before they had that Dumbledore was alive caused even more yelled accusations. The wizard in question, however, simply kept up his courteous assurances.
“We’re all friends here, there’s no need for-”
A shout of “that’s Malfoy, he’s no friend of mine!” cut off the former Headmasters words and prompted a growl from the retired Auror that effectively carried over all the other voices.
“If you want an explanation, everybody better shut it!”
“Indeed,” Dumbledore continued, calmly addressing the previous exclamation as if Moody hadn’t said a word. “Mr. Malfoy is a friend to the Order and has been working with me since the beginning of his sixth year.”
Gasps and shouts of denial rose up again, but the bearded wizard simply raised his good hand and went on. “In fact, were it not for the actions of Mr. Malfoy, today’s victory would have not been possible. He and Miss Weasley have both been instrumental in allowing our final confrontation to occur successfully.”
The young redhead winced at the theoretically helpful comment, knowing even before the yelling resumed that her implied involvement would be as incendiary as the idea of Draco Malfoy secretly working with the man he had supposedly tried to kill. It came as no shock to the youngest of seven that her mother’s outraged scolding was being distributed equally between her daughter and the grizzled wizard who had told her Ginny had been sequestered ‘somewhere safe’ when she had in fact been working for the Order. And with none other than Draco Malfoy at that.
The shouts and allegations continued to war with reprimands and platitudes, effectively occupying the crowd, allowing the pair still protected by the shield to speak unnoticed. He took the opportunity to relax his fighting stance, and lower his hands from their previous position, fisted in front of him. It was when he did so and was able to compare the action with the wand the redhead kept up as she reinforced her shield that he realized he hadn’t even thought to go for his wand, which was still hidden in his watchband as it had been since he first moved into the Tonks’ house. He had automatically reacted in a purely Muggle manner, not like the wizard he had been. The implication was at once staggering and utterly comforting.
“Draco, you okay?”
The blond’s focus snapped back to the girl beside him, though a part of him was still busy processing the meaning of his sudden insight. He hadn’t reacted like a wizard. He didn’t want to react like a wizard because he didn’t want to be one. He wanted to be the young man he had become while staying in Hampstead. He was happy there, happy with his life and himself, something he couldn’t ever recall truly being as the wealthy and entitled Malfoy heir. Even before the war. He’d thought he was content, but after living without magic, after making genuine friends and finding his own honest interests, he could see what being happy was and it wasn’t the life he’d left in the Wizarding World.
“I’m not going back,” he said almost to himself, his words ringing with a resolute confidence that hadn’t been there when he’d speculated about returning to the Muggle world.
She smiled at the happy relief in his tone, but the expression was dulled by the disappointment she couldn’t hide. He noticed it immediately and reached out to take her hands in reassurance. The motion conveniently drew her closer to him so he was able to speak softly underneath the continuing arguments that surrounded them. “Do you think I should get an owl, or would it be safer to get you a post box near Ottery?”
Her smile turned more genuine at the blatant implication that they would stay in contact despite his not being in the Wizarding World. The reference to one of the first conversations they had shared at the Tonks’, which outlined the benefits and risks of the Order contacting him through Muggle post to ask for his help widened the smile further. As if sensing exactly where her thoughts had gone, he smiled back conspiratorially. “Think you can get away cleanly often enough to pick up and drop off a letter every day? I plan on being a very faithful pen pal.”
The statement had been made with complete seriousness, but the edge of wicked promise in his grin detracted from the somber tone. That edge only sharpened when she whispered back. “Oh definitely. I dare say I’ll be able to get away once or twice for longer than it takes to post a letter.”
“Really? How much longer, do you think?” The words didn’t hold even a hint of anything but mischief and matched the tone of her own which followed.
“At least long enough to take the Knight Bus to, say, Hampstead and back?”
The descent of his lips on hers prevented further speech but the kiss was soon broken forcefully when a screeching Molly Weasley pulled her daughter away and towards the front door. Realizing that she must have dropped her shield while distracted, Ginny started to pout but the rather meaningful smile the blond was sending her dampened her disappointment. It was the reassuring twinkle she spotted from the former Headmaster as he placed his good hand on Draco’s shoulder that prompted her to give in to the tugging on her arm. The last thing she saw as she was dragged out of the door of Number 12 was an exchange of pointed looks between Dumbledore and the Malfoy heir.
Any concern the youngest Weasley might have had about being able to stay in contact with her ex-partner in crime was swept away. If anyone could facilitate an abundance of Draco in her life despite her family’s best efforts, it would be Albus Dumbledore.
End Chapter Twenty-Five
As quiet as his voice had been, it could have been a shout for the response it garnered from the two older wizards. Both turned to look at the blond with a speed that she was worried might cause some type of whipped lash, or whatever they called it on the telly. With Draco’s driving it was not a foreign concept for the witch, though neither of her mentors seemed to be suffering any of its effects as they suddenly pinned her partner to the floor with their three good eyes. The magical orb, she noted distantly, was still fixed on the partially opened bag containing Nagini on the large table that had been covered with research material every other time she had been in these rooms.
“What did you just say?” The words came out with an almost menacing edge, though both teens caught the shade of what could have been excitement, which appeared mirrored in the face of the former Headmaster nearby.
Even so, it took a second for Draco to find his voice in the face of Alastor Moody’s sharp interest. “Liquefiat… sir.”
The former, if unwilling, Death Eater wasn’t one that would normally use such a term in regular conversation anymore, but considering the narrow gaze of the infamous Auror, he decided to err on the side of caution. He just barely noticed the ever so slight nod given by the redhead next to him and figured it was probably a good call. Any thoughts of manners or proper respect were immediately overridden by the advance of the grizzled wizard. Acting more on the desire not to be at a disadvantage than showing respect, the Malfoy heir rose to his feet as Dumbledore raised his good hand to halt his colleague’s movement towards the blond.
“Interesting choice, my boy, what exactly do you propose that we liquefy?”
“Ginny was just saying that the thing that stood out the most about her memories of the snake were the eyes, and that Potter can see through Nagini’s eyes like he can the Dark Lord’s so the link between V-Voldemort and his pet is probably through the eyes. If the link between them is in fact attached to the presence of the Horcrux inside the snake, I thought maybe that would be the place to concentrate on.”
“Indeed, the concept does sound promising. Alastor?” The aged wizard turned to the man who had been running the Order in his stead for nearly a year.
The suspicious way the good eye regarded Draco was hardly surprising to anyone in the room, but the gruff sound of agreement and slight nod of his head was not what the others had expected. “We did have to melt the cup.”
The bespectacled wizard tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Thus changing the basic structure and makeup of the physical item in order to separate and release the Horcrux within. Yes, yes, promising indeed.” The twinkle in the blue eyes which swung towards the last occupant of the room was sharp, bright, and just a touch dangerous.
Ginny swallowed once, gathering her thoughts from the single minded and almost frantic search of every memory, feeling and intuition she had the moment she realized where the conversation was headed. Having stood at the same time as her former housemate, the redhead made a visible effort to remain where she was. “Nothing specific, sir,” she admitted in answer to the former Headmaster’s silent question. “But,”
She bit her lip as Moody latched immediately onto that one word, taking a step towards her in what she would have considered a threatening gesture before they’d started working together. “What, Weasley? What do you know?”
She refrained from repeating that she hadn’t seen any specific memory or suddenly known anything about the snake like she had with the cup or the desk, instead stating exactly what she had felt as soon as Draco had finished his explanation. “I want to. I just suddenly, for no specific reason, have an urge to do it.”
The two war veterans turned to each other without another word, then a heartbeat later, turned simultaneously back towards the table. The elder swiftly vanished the bag still partially obscuring the huge snake with a flick of his wrist. Before Dumbledore had lowered his good arm, Mad-Eye was pointing his wand at the closed eyes of the final Horcrux with a shout.
“Liquefiat!”
The word was immediately lost in a loud roar as something resembling a shock wave exploded from the snake in ripples of sound and energy that left all four struggling to remain upright. When the wave had reached the walls of the dilapidated rooms it snapped back forcefully, pulling everyone a single step towards the table. The movement made it impossible to not hear the bubbling hiss that emitted from the coiled body as first its eyes, then the rest of Nagini’s scaled form dissolved first into a nauseating slime, then nothing more than an unpleasant aroma. Several seconds followed during which the witnesses could only blink in disbelief before finally turning to each other with matching looks of disturbed surprise.
Ginny was the first to find her voice, unsteady as it might have been. “Not exactly what I was expecting, but I’ll take it, I suppose.”
The comment prompted a barking laugh from the grizzled wizard who had acted as her mentor since the night her memories had prompted her to break into the very rooms they were standing in. “Bloody right,” Moody snarled as he turned his attention from the redhead to the white haired wizard beside him. “Albus.”
The brief word earned him a solemn nod. “Indeed, Alastor.” The agreement barely needed to be spoken aloud as the Head and Acting Head of the Order of the Phoenix leapt into action, gathering the few things they needed before dropping the wards momentarily and Apparating away with nothing more than the words, “stay safe” and a set of curt nods in Draco and Ginny’s direction.
Any response that the blond or redhead would have made was drowned out by the uncharacteristically loud pop of the older wizards’ departure followed by the dull echo of the wards snapping back into place, in the wake of which, a heavy silence descended. Both of the now-former partners opened their mouth more than once over the next minute or so, as if to say something, only to sigh or shake their head and remain silent. Their role in the final showdown was complete and there was nothing left for them to do but wait and hope that taking the Horcruxes out of the equation was enough to ensure Voldemort’s defeat. To that end, it was all in the Order’s hands now, along with the map and notes they had written up at the airstrip.
Draco wouldn’t be the least but surprised if those notes weren’t currently in the hands of Saint Potter himself. It had been the general consensus between the heads of the Order and the two young Horcrux hunters – though if you asked him, thieves was probably the most apt description – that since Nagini had been there it was most likely that the Dark Lord would be at the camp on the other end of the cave. And where Voldemort was likely to be, the Boy-Who-Lived was likely to go.
For all that he and Ginny had been entrusted with the nearly impossible task of finding, taking, and helping destroy the pieces of his evil soul, the Dark Lord himself could only be killed by his prophesied equal. The blond did not envy his old nemesis that particular job. His had been bad enough. Though he mentally revised that assessment of his assignment with the young witch beside him. Bad was not the first word that came to his mind when he replayed their time working together. Parts of it had been quite enjoyable if he were being honest. One part in particular, but he wasn’t going to think about that now. Better to focus elsewhere.
Keeping his mind on something other than the spontaneous kiss they had shared not long before was easier said than done. And not just for him. Ginny also found her thoughts returning to the event regardless of her intentions otherwise. The quiet room grew increasingly tense as they forced themselves to hold a stilted conversation about what could be happening at that moment back at the caves or the other Death Eater hideouts that had been located over the past few months.
Although the redhead found the talk of the multiple battlefields and their possible outcomes to be a stressful way of occupying herself, it was what they were not saying that caused her to snap. Ginny’s voice broke into the pointedly emotionless drone of Draco’s words with sudden volume, causing the blond to rear back slightly in surprise.
“How the bloody hall can you just sit there and talk about likely combat scenarios when we…” She cut herself off as quickly as she had him a moment earlier, forced to make a sweeping gesture with her arms to fill in the words she found she was unable to actually say out loud.
The wizard-cum-Muggle daredevil raised his eyebrows in only partially feigned shock as he tried to convince himself that she was referring to anything except what he knew she was referring to. It took a considerable amount of his self-control to keep his tone steady and nonchalant. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak arm-flailing, what exactly are you talking about?”
Draco congratulated himself on the almost teasing way he’d managed to speak past the rising feeling of panic and hope at her words. He received only a glare for his efforts. “You know exactly what I mean, Draco Malfoy.”
The chastisement was probably meant to be somewhat cutting, but the blush sweeping up her throat and across her cheeks took any bite out of the exclamation. He couldn’t help smirking at the appealing sight, the amused expression prompting what sounded like a growl from the petite redhead. He barely had time to blink in reaction to the unexpectedly menacing noise before whatever control she had been exercising evaporated completely. He hadn’t even processed the fact that she had moved, when his housemate lunged at him, her lips landing almost violently on his.
All humor left him on a quickly drawn breath. Shocked at her own actions and suddenly fearful that his sharp inhale indicated that her action had not been welcomed, the redhead began to pull back. A pale hand swiftly rose to tangle in her disheveled hair, preventing the retreat and instead drawing her closer as the kiss gained in intensity. It wasn’t until air became an issue for both of them that the two separated, though it was only far enough for them to be able to gasp in needed oxygen.
“That. We did-” Ginny’s attempt at answering the question that had preceded the passionate exchange was cut off with another kiss, no less intense for its brevity as he pulled back again a moment later.
“Yes, we did.” His words washed over her face in a rush of hot breath and he barely started to say that they should do it again when she smothered the words with her lips.
Conversation as a whole ceased entirely for quite some time as the former partners released all their pent up fear and hope and pure nerves in a snog that ranged from tender to near violent. When they were finally catching their breath again it was interspersed with laughter and blushes that were tamped down with headshakes and shyly bitten lips only to bubble forth yet again as soon as their eyes met over the mere inches that separated them. Soon enough, exhaustion won out over the rush of emotions and the two eventually settled down in their corner of Moody’s outer room at Grimmauld Place.
His fingers raked gently through her russet strands as the youngest Weasley settled her head on his chest. This time the silence between them was comfortable and as relaxed as it could be considering they were still waiting for word on the outcome of the final confrontation with the Dark Lord. Even so, it wasn’t long before their quiet voices filled the still air as they softly discussed some of the crazy things they had done during their respective stays at the Tonks’ home. A more serious topic kept returning to the front of his mind, however, and it wasn’t more than half an hour later that the heavy statement fell from his lips with very little permission from his brain.
“I don’t know if I want to go back.” The thought that not too long ago he would have considered a betrayal of everything he and his family stood for left a feeling of relief in its wake, though the way her shoulders had climbed towards her ears as soon as he’d said it indicated that Ginny did not feel the same. Unsure what she would say or how that response might dull the pleasant lightness in his chest, which had combined quite favorably with the even more positive sensations from their kisses, he continued. “Not just Hogwarts. I don’t know if I want to go back at all. I’ve made a life for myself, a real one and I…”
He was nearly as tense as she was when he forced out the thing that had been hovering in the very back of his mind for months. “I don’t want to be the person I was before. What if coming back, using magic, not doing taekwondo or motorbike racing… what if I become him again when I lose my Muggle life?”
The young witch tried to respond, to tell him she wouldn’t let that happen, but three thoughts prevented it. First, she recalled how little she had heard Hermione talk about her life in the Muggle world in the past few years and how much time the curly-haired witch had spent at the Burrow over the summers rather than her parents’ home. Second, Ginny pictured the hard mask this wizard had always worn in public as the crowds parted before him as if they might be struck or contaminated if they got to close. Then she compared it to the open joy she had witnessed him exude when he was performing dangerous stunts with his new friends and a tendril of worry grew in her. But it was the third thing that made her truly pause… when I lose my Muggle life he had said. Lose, not leave. It wasn’t just what he would have to deal with in the Wizarding World that he didn’t want, it was that he wanted what he had in the Muggle World instead.
He became more and more tense as he waited for her to say something. Before his stomach could clench too tightly in anticipation of her response, the slamming of a door echoed through the house, waking the screaming portrait in the front hall and prompting both to scramble hastily to their feet.
The various members of the advancing group talked over and around each other, the volume of the simultaneous conversations more than loud enough to cover the sound of Ginny opening the door to Moody’s rooms so she could glance over the group. The bright hair of the twins, Charlie, and Ron made them easy to spot and she let out a sigh of relief at the lack of obvious injuries. The Weasley matriarch of course, was automatically distinguishable by the mere echo of her constant stream of concerned comments. It didn’t take long for that concern to be shifted in her direction when the housewitch spotted her only daughter in the doorway.
“Oh Ginny, dear! There you are, they said you were here safe. Thank goodness you were away from it all. Dreadful, just dreadful. Bill is with Fleur at St. Mungo’s, nothing serious but best to be safe. And your father’s with poor Harry at the hospital wing so Poppy can keep an eye on him. He plain wore himself out, the brave dear, passed out as soon as it was all over. Ron wanted to be with him of course, but I said-”
Where the woman was able to get the air to scream Ginny didn’t know, she certainly hadn’t paused for breath as she’d fussed her way over to the doorway, but scream she did. The youngest Weasley didn’t have to glance behind her to know exactly what had set her mother off. The cry had everyone else looking, though, as they rushed forward, wands drawn. Ginny’s response was as automatic as the rest, though she jumped towards the blond to place herself protectively at his side rather than aim stunners at his head. Before the spells had fully left the raised wands, there was a flurry of movement.
Draco spun rapidly on his heel, knocking the wands out of the three hands closest to him with a single kick before falling back into a fighting stance to the left and slightly in front of his fellow Horcrux hunter. As his feet planted themselves, the petite redhead was raising a shield around them both. The shield almost didn’t finish forming before a multitude of spells hit it, bouncing off and stunning two of the Order who had thrown them.
The cacophony of shouts that were then aimed at them ranged from orders for Ginny to get away, to expletives in combination with the name Malfoy. Brown eyes rolled at the overreaction occurring in front of her, but knowing the others as she did, the witch knew stunners and shouts and cursing were only the start. And even if she could get a word in edgewise experience told her not a single one of them would listen to what she had to say before they finished attacking the wizard they had previously thought dead with his parents months before.
“Moody! Professor! A little help in here!”
The two wizards in question were already making their way towards the uproar but obviously hastened their progress through the crowd blocking the doorway in response to the shout for help. As soon as he’d entered the rooms that had hidden him for so long, Albus Dumbledore began politely addressing the violent crowd. “Now now, everyone, I assure you there is no cause for fuss.”
The Tonks’ former house guest let out a sigh of relief at the wizards’ arrival, though her expression didn’t carry any hint of surprise at the presence of someone that until that morning, the entire Order, aside from Moody, had thought dead. The idea that little Ginny Weasley had known before they had that Dumbledore was alive caused even more yelled accusations. The wizard in question, however, simply kept up his courteous assurances.
“We’re all friends here, there’s no need for-”
A shout of “that’s Malfoy, he’s no friend of mine!” cut off the former Headmasters words and prompted a growl from the retired Auror that effectively carried over all the other voices.
“If you want an explanation, everybody better shut it!”
“Indeed,” Dumbledore continued, calmly addressing the previous exclamation as if Moody hadn’t said a word. “Mr. Malfoy is a friend to the Order and has been working with me since the beginning of his sixth year.”
Gasps and shouts of denial rose up again, but the bearded wizard simply raised his good hand and went on. “In fact, were it not for the actions of Mr. Malfoy, today’s victory would have not been possible. He and Miss Weasley have both been instrumental in allowing our final confrontation to occur successfully.”
The young redhead winced at the theoretically helpful comment, knowing even before the yelling resumed that her implied involvement would be as incendiary as the idea of Draco Malfoy secretly working with the man he had supposedly tried to kill. It came as no shock to the youngest of seven that her mother’s outraged scolding was being distributed equally between her daughter and the grizzled wizard who had told her Ginny had been sequestered ‘somewhere safe’ when she had in fact been working for the Order. And with none other than Draco Malfoy at that.
The shouts and allegations continued to war with reprimands and platitudes, effectively occupying the crowd, allowing the pair still protected by the shield to speak unnoticed. He took the opportunity to relax his fighting stance, and lower his hands from their previous position, fisted in front of him. It was when he did so and was able to compare the action with the wand the redhead kept up as she reinforced her shield that he realized he hadn’t even thought to go for his wand, which was still hidden in his watchband as it had been since he first moved into the Tonks’ house. He had automatically reacted in a purely Muggle manner, not like the wizard he had been. The implication was at once staggering and utterly comforting.
“Draco, you okay?”
The blond’s focus snapped back to the girl beside him, though a part of him was still busy processing the meaning of his sudden insight. He hadn’t reacted like a wizard. He didn’t want to react like a wizard because he didn’t want to be one. He wanted to be the young man he had become while staying in Hampstead. He was happy there, happy with his life and himself, something he couldn’t ever recall truly being as the wealthy and entitled Malfoy heir. Even before the war. He’d thought he was content, but after living without magic, after making genuine friends and finding his own honest interests, he could see what being happy was and it wasn’t the life he’d left in the Wizarding World.
“I’m not going back,” he said almost to himself, his words ringing with a resolute confidence that hadn’t been there when he’d speculated about returning to the Muggle world.
She smiled at the happy relief in his tone, but the expression was dulled by the disappointment she couldn’t hide. He noticed it immediately and reached out to take her hands in reassurance. The motion conveniently drew her closer to him so he was able to speak softly underneath the continuing arguments that surrounded them. “Do you think I should get an owl, or would it be safer to get you a post box near Ottery?”
Her smile turned more genuine at the blatant implication that they would stay in contact despite his not being in the Wizarding World. The reference to one of the first conversations they had shared at the Tonks’, which outlined the benefits and risks of the Order contacting him through Muggle post to ask for his help widened the smile further. As if sensing exactly where her thoughts had gone, he smiled back conspiratorially. “Think you can get away cleanly often enough to pick up and drop off a letter every day? I plan on being a very faithful pen pal.”
The statement had been made with complete seriousness, but the edge of wicked promise in his grin detracted from the somber tone. That edge only sharpened when she whispered back. “Oh definitely. I dare say I’ll be able to get away once or twice for longer than it takes to post a letter.”
“Really? How much longer, do you think?” The words didn’t hold even a hint of anything but mischief and matched the tone of her own which followed.
“At least long enough to take the Knight Bus to, say, Hampstead and back?”
The descent of his lips on hers prevented further speech but the kiss was soon broken forcefully when a screeching Molly Weasley pulled her daughter away and towards the front door. Realizing that she must have dropped her shield while distracted, Ginny started to pout but the rather meaningful smile the blond was sending her dampened her disappointment. It was the reassuring twinkle she spotted from the former Headmaster as he placed his good hand on Draco’s shoulder that prompted her to give in to the tugging on her arm. The last thing she saw as she was dragged out of the door of Number 12 was an exchange of pointed looks between Dumbledore and the Malfoy heir.
Any concern the youngest Weasley might have had about being able to stay in contact with her ex-partner in crime was swept away. If anyone could facilitate an abundance of Draco in her life despite her family’s best efforts, it would be Albus Dumbledore.
End Chapter Twenty-Five
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