written for Trinidad Burgos-Damasco, on the occasion of her deployment
with special thanks to Shar for the beta.


~*~


The park was quiet the day before the official holiday of remembrance, and the young red-haired witch preferred it thus. The Ministry of Magic had arranged a "private" ceremony for all the families of those who'd fallen in the war against Voldemort and his followers, but the fight against the Death Eaters had spanned decades. Even the most private of organized events would be far too large for Ginny's comfort.

A few people still ambled about the memorial, located in a pretty sort of wilderness on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. A reflecting pool stood in a spacious clearing surrounded by trees, and a granite marker stood at one end, inscribed with the names of the lost.

She considered for a brief moment the lengthy brouhaha that had surrounded the Ministry's desire to create a memorial. There had been a large contingent pressing for a magical commemoration of their lives and sacrifices, with several different ideas and plans for such a place. These were offset by a small but vocal lobby who reminded anyone that would listen that Muggles and the Muggleborn had fallen victim to the most heinous of the Dark Lord's crimes.

And when the Minister of Magic heard the word "Muggle", he was hard to distract. Arthur Weasley had changed in many ways since he was elevated to the highest office in Wizarding Britain .. but not in his heart, where his affection for all things Muggle resided. There were arguments made that there one day might be a time of greater cooperation between Wizard and Muggle, and arguments made that with a simple granite marker, no magical energy would be required to keep it up through the ages.

In the end, though, it had come down to Arthur's choice.

She ran a gentle hand over the bench on which she sat, unconsciously seeking the dedication plaque affixed to the seat. It rested opposite the imposing stone memorial. The bench too had been the Minister's idea -- something tangible, something permanent, a lasting monument to a family that had given far more than any should have had to give, far too much.

The thought brought tears to Ginny's eyes then. She had fended the sadness off well enough in the weeks leading up to the day of remembrance, but now that she was here, sitting in a place where memories were encouraged to flow like elderflower wine, it was much harder to put aside. She pulled a handkerchief from her bag just as the tears spilled down her cheeks.

She could see their faces in her mind as though looking into a photograph, happy and full of life. Her heart contracted painfully and a sob escaped her lips, even as a hand settled against her shoulder.

"I thought you were going to wait for me, Gin."

She shook her head slowly without looking up from the square of silk in her hands. She swallowed a few times before she could manage to be heard. "I was going to, but .. I had to come here. I'm sorry."

A sigh and a pause. "People tend to worry when you disappear on them with no warning."

The tone of voice caused Ginny to give a single chuckle, even with a lump in her throat. "Not that a Malfoy would ever worry about someone."

"It's happened before," Draco said shortly. His outdoor cloak and robes rustled as he sat down next to her, and took one of her hands in both of his. They were warm to the touch, and the difference in temperatures caused a little shiver to run up her spine.

"I thought that you had some modicum of sense," he added in a tone that with any other person would have been sharp before pulling her close and tucking his cloak around them both. "Seven years at Hogwarts, and you still don't plan for inclement weather in April."

"I wasn't thinking," she murmured automatically.

"There's a lot you try not to think about, isn't there?"

She didn't deny the allegation, nor did she grace it with a reply. They sat for several minutes in silence before she whispered, "I can't believe I'm sitting here. I would give anything in the world for this place not to exist, not to have to exist."

His fingers tightened around hers, but he remained silent.

"Why? Why did we have to lose so much?" she demanded in tearful defiance, sitting up to look him in the eyes.

"Because it had to be done, Ginny. We all did what had to be done." Her sharp intake of breath startled him, but only for a moment. "If the Dark Lord hadn't lost, he would have executed his plans for Muggles .. the Mu- muggleborns, and the blood traitors." Another pause. "Everyone who worked against him thought that the fight was worth any price to be paid."

"Even you?" she challenged.

"Especially me," he replied. His eyes narrowed. "I was privy to his plans, Gin. You were not exempt. There would be no us, no Julian, if he'd won."

They had had this discussion before, yet in this place where emotions were amplified, Ginny couldn't stop the tears from falling. With a gentleness that no Weasley would have ever thought a Malfoy capable of, he brushed them aside with pale fingers.

"Worth any price," he murmured.

In loving memory of
Gideon Prewett, Fabian Prewett,
Molly Prewett Weasley and Charles Weasley
The End.
ClanMalfoy is the author of 10 other stories.
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