2

"Drink this."

"Ew, no! It smells horrid."

"I know it does, but you need to if you want your insides to be as pretty as your outsides."

Ginny looked at him skeptically, but swallowed the contents of the vial anyway. "Gross!" She made a face. "It tastes worse than it smells!"

"I know, and I'm sorry. Ginny, look at me. Do you know who I am?"

She smiled fondly. "You're my special Bird, of course."

.                             .                             .

"Uncle Dwaco, Uncle Dwaco!"

Hermione couldn't help smiling as little Evrie ran to greet her favorite uncle. With a small smile, Ron grabbed Hermione's hand. She gave it a squeeze. The world was a mess, her best friend was dead, but for a few hours here amidst this loving family, it felt like they just might pull through.

The Burrow was larger now, with all the influence the family found after Voldemort's downfall. Once, she'd overheard Mr. Weasley mentioning an anonymous benefactor that sent enormously large checks every now and then. Hermione looked over at 'Dwaco,' Evrie happily seated on his knee while he tried not to grin like an idiot. Mr. Weasley would have to be a lot thicker than she thought if he hadn't figured out who the benefactor was yet. George, Ron, Harry, Draco, and Teddy (having amusingly inherited a large portion of the Black estate through a loophole) were all wealthy enough, but only one on that list would feel the need to be anonymous.

"Is Evrie bothering you again?" Charlie asked the blond, knowing full well how much Draco was loving it.

"She was just telling me how good of a flyer she's becoming."

The girl smiled up at her father from her uncle's knee. "I'm very good, aren't I, Daddy?"

"Of course, sweetie."

She turned to her uncle. "Mommy lets me use her broom. But it's really, really big."

The Slytherin smiled. "So you think you could learn better on a broom your size?"

"Oh, yes!"

Charlie caught where this conversation was going. "Don't even think about it, Draco. She doesn't need a customized B-R-O-O-M."

"That's odd, Charlie. I could've sworn you were trying to tell me what to do with my money."

Hermione hid a smile behind her hand. Scenes like this were common since the Weasleys had adopted him. It was a good thing there were so many children in the family. It helped to diffuse the doting of the old bachelor.

On all but Evrie. The girl adored Draco and he loved her like a daughter. At first Charlie had been concerned but eventually he went along with it, even going so far as to name the Slytherin her godfather.

Inevitably, Draco gave the question to her. "Ginevra, would you like a broom of your own? One that's your own size?"

The girl grinned up at him. "Yes, please!"

Charlie groaned and ruffled his daughter's hair, conceding defeat.

Hugo toddled over to Hermione. "Mommy," he whined, "Rose won't give me and Freddy back our Frog Cards."

"Freddy and me, Hugo," his mother corrected. "Come on, I'll go sort it out."

.                             .                             .

"I saw your family yesterday."

She wrinkled her nose. "I don't have family. Lone Crazy Woman, remember?"

The bird gave an odd sort of sigh. "Yes, you do. Charlie, your favorite brother, named his little girl after you."

"You're a lying little bird. I don't have any brothers."

Silence. The bird fluttered with irritation. "Can I tell you a story?"

She grinned, stroking its back with a finger. "I love stories."

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful redheaded girl—"

"No! Make her blonde. And a princess!"

"Alright, she's blonde. But she can't be a princess."

"It's not a real story if she's not a princess."

The bird sighed. "She's already a noble. Does that work for you?"

"Alright," she relented. "But she has to marry a prince."

"Maybe. But there's no reason for me to tell the story if you already know the ending."

"Hmph. Fine. But this better be good."

"Oh, it is. Alright. So this drop-dead gorgeous blonde nobleman's daughter was named Guinevere Wesley. Her father was very faithful to the king, as was their entire family. Well, a large group of bad nobles got together to try to overthrow the king."

"Oh no!"

"That's exactly what the Wesley's thought. All six of her older brothers joined the army to defend the kingdom."

"Six? No, too many. Make it two."

"Six," the bird growled. "Let me tell my story."

"You're not doing a very good job of it…" she sang.

"So all six of her brothers joined the army, along with her parents. Guinevere wanted to help as well, though. But her family was very protective of her, and forbid her from putting herself in danger. She reluctantly complied. That is, until she met Dralian, the most handsome, charming man in the world—and the son of the most evil nobleman. They fell in love. And he decided to fight for the good army, against his entire family."

"He's even better than a prince! This is a good story!"

He cleared his throat, and it took him a few seconds to recover. "But now, Guinevere started fighting in the war, too, in every little way she could. And Dralian, filled with love and scared that he wouldn't get another chance, asked Guinevere to marry him."

"And she said yes!"

The bird laughed. "That she did. But when she told her family, they threatened to disown her, knowing who Dralian's family was and thinking that he was only a spy for his father.

"When the final battle came, in anger, Guinevere threw herself into the heart of it. She was amazing: a goddess of destruction. Death Ea— uh, bad guy after bad guy fell before her. The good guys won, but the unspeakable happened to Guinevere. Dralian's father injured her very gravely."

Ginny gasped. "What happened next?"

He took a few moments to gather his words, then let them out in a rush. "Dralian took care of her, her family forgave him, they married, and spent the rest of their days together, happy in their love."

"That's a wonderful story," she proclaimed with a sweet smile.

"Yes, isn't it?" But the bird said it without conviction. He fluttered in agitation, looking like he was itching to be gone. "Well, I'll be back tomorrow. Goodnight."

As he flew off, she could've sworn he softly added, "Guinevere."

.                             .                             .

Neville Longbottom patiently peered through the fence on the grounds of Malfoy Inc. He'd waited for three hours already, and wasn't going to leave till he got a chance to talk to its owner.

He was not disappointed. A few minutes more and Draco Malfoy himself Apparated outside the gate and started the walk in.

"Malfoy!" Neville called, running over. "Wait up a minute!"

The Slytherin paused, gate half closed behind him and an unreadable look on his face. "Longbottom? What is it?"

Neville paused, his courage failing earlier than he'd hoped. "Your potion," he finally stammered. "My parents were part of the trial tests. It cured them. We've been trying for years and nothing's ever worked. I just… wanted to let you know how much good your work's been doing."

"Well, bully for them."

Neville's mouth hung open for a second before it turned to anger. "They got their entire lives back! You think that doesn't matter?"

Draco spun on the Gryffindor, nearly growling. "Let me put this in terms your thick head can comprehend. Say someone is stranded in the desert, completely parched. They stumble across a diamond. Now it doesn't matter how bloody big the diamond is, because if they don't get water, they're going to die. Got it now? Congrats to your family, but I've got bigger fish to fry." He slammed the gate in Neville's face.

Merlin, Neville remarked silently, and here people said Malfoy had stopped being such a bastard.