A Matter of Circumstance

Chapter One

It had been a long day, another long day in a stream of long days. Twelve hours spent at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions six days a week, it could take its toll on a body. And that was a fact Ginny had learned two years previously when she became Madam Malkin's apprentice. Now she was most assuredly not an apprentice, but she still put in long hours at the shop. Even though she was beginning to get as many returning customers as Madam Malkin herself, Ginny still believed she had a lot to learn.

And it was because of this belief that she spent so many long hours there. Of course, the fact that it allowed her to forget the pain of the loss and betrayals she'd felt was just an added bonus. She enjoyed those hours she spent working, being able to forget the pain of seeing Fred's lifeless body. Forget the pain of losing Harry to his own self loathing and his inability to realize that anyone else in the world is capable of understanding the pain he feels for the losses he has to live with.

Ginny almost physically winced as she once again allowed herself to think on the painful past. With a grumble and a sneer that would have made any Malfoy proud, she threw herself out of her chair and stomped over to the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of firewhiskey, Ginny poured herself a tumbler.

Staring across the kitchen and into the flames in the fireplace of her flat, Ginny allowed herself to remember. She remembered coming upon Fred's lifeless body. Of falling to her knees so utterly stunned that she could not even cry. She could barely comprehend what her eyes saw. She could hear Harry yelling as he chased after the one who had caused Fred's death, but all she could see was the boy who had been her brother.

Ginny, after a moment, had then fallen on top of his body and began to cry, uncaring that she left herself open to attack from the enemy. She had known that there was a good chance she would lose someone dear to her, but it had never really dawned on her the severity of that knowledge until she saw one so dear lying lifeless. Ginny had sobbed over him, not noticing that she was being watched. Not until a hand touched her shoulder.

Ginny had looked up through tear filled eyes into the blue-grey eyes of Draco Malfoy. Ginny instantly reared up her defenses, preparing for a cutting remark, or a physical attack. But none of her defenses were able to prepare her for what he actually did. He had handed her a kerchief and helped her to her feet. And after walking her over to what was left of a bench, he had proceeded to move Fred's body out of the pathway to a place where his body would be undisturbed.

Ginny took a shuttering breath as she gripped her tumbler tighter and walked over to the fire, standing close to it, her eyes never leaving the flames. She took a drink as she remembered Draco leaving without having said a word the entire time, for which she was grateful. His actions had shocked her enough, let alone him having said something kind. He was out of his character in that moment, and Ginny half suspected that Draco himself probably stayed quiet simply because he had not known what to say.

For the first time, Ginny had felt her world shift in more than one way. She had lost a brother, and had seen someone she had placed so easily in the category of evil make a gesture of kindness and sympathy. She let out a sigh and slumped onto the hardwood floor before the fire, uncaring of the wrinkles her skirt would gain from the misuse.

And then Harry had shifted her world even more. A week after the last battle, Ginny had found herself finally alone with Harry. She had gone to him for comfort, and to give comfort. She had wanted nothing more than to hold him and to be held. To see for herself that Harry was fine. He had tried apologizing for not having been able to save Fred, and she had tried to tell him not to be foolish, that it was not his fault. But he would not let it go, and she watched as Harry began to drown himself in self pity. Blaming himself for the deaths of everyone, saying he should have been able to prevent them all.

She had fought with him, trying to convince him otherwise, but he would have none of it. Then she had left, telling him that if all he wanted to do was live in the past and not look to the future, then he would do it alone. It had been the hardest thing Ginny had ever done. But then, what had happened after proved to be a very hard test to her nerves; His acceptance onto the Chudley Cannons, and then the Quidditch stardom that followed quickly. But that was not the worst. What was worse was the parade of females. It was disgusting, and it hurt Ginny, because despite it all, she still loved him. Ginny finished off her tumbler of firewhiskey and lay down on the floor, eyes still watching the flames.

"Merlin, I hate war. It took two important people from me... Why does war have to be so cruel?" She gazed at the dancing flames as if they had a response. As if they could satisfy all of her questions and help her understand. And she fell asleep still awaiting the answers.

~ ~ ~

"Bloody hell, it's good to be home."

Draco glanced over at the man who had been his companion on his self imposed exile. He smiled half-heartedly at the darker skinned man. Blaise had been looking forward to their return since Draco had announced it. He turned to look out the window of the room they had rented at the Leaky Cauldron. Sure, they could have easily returned to their own residences, but both had craved the sight of their Wizarding London, the sight of Diagon Alley.

And out that window was the place they had been waiting to see. It was good to see the cloud heavy blue-grey skies of fall in England. The cold, crisp wind as it battered windows, and the people who occupied such a place. "If you say so," he finally replied, bringing his tankard of warmed cider to his lips.

"Admit it, Draco. You were tired of parading around in foreign countries. While it was nice to not automatically be recognized for the children of Death Eaters, those places were never home to us." Blaise walked over to a chair opposite the one Draco was lounging in and sat down. "And now that we are back, what will you do? Will you be taking over your father's role in the company like he wants?"

Draco stared down into his tankard, watching the dark liquid inside as if it where interesting. "Perhaps." Of course Draco would. Lucius and Marcello Zabini, Blaise's father, had worked hard in the three year's since Voldemort's downfall to re-establish themselves in the working world. And from what his father's letter had said, it seems he had worked a little too hard on the company and too little on his marriage with Draco's mother.

Blaise turned and looked out the window from his vantage point once more. And then, after a moment, he spoke. "Is your mother still threatening to leave?"

Draco snorted at that. "Of course not. She knows she's won. She knows that I will take up father's primary role in the company and allow him to fall back into a mostly silent role as partner."

"Aye, and soon my own father will be asking when I will step up." Blaise gave a sigh before giving Draco a cocky smile. "I better make use of my free time before I am equally asked to do my duty as the eldest son and take over." Blaise seemed to fall silent for a moment, as if in serious thought.

"You know, those people walking around down there?" He continued. "They don't know how easy their lives are compared to ours. Sure, we come from well to do families, but they are not persecuted like we are. You and I? We had no choice in whether or not we would follow the Dark Lord. It was decided for us, and if we refused? There was only death for us and our families."

Draco nodded, still giving his tankard all of his attention. "Yes, but we still did wrong. We will just have to make up for it as best as we can, and keep the dignity of our families intact in the process." He took a drink of the cider before leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "Tomorrow I will return home and settle my mother's fears and make my father proud. And then the next day I will do something no Malfoy has ever done. I will make amends with the Weasley Clan. Or at least try."

Blaise laughed when he heard the last bit of Draco's plans. He would definitely have to hear how that one went. "I wish you good luck in that, mate. Be sure to practice ducking curses before you go. I don't want to have to visit you in St. Mungo's because you were stupid enough to let yourself get cursed."

Draco smirked at Blaise's comment, as he was expected to. But in his mind's eye he saw the youngest Weasley. He saw her crying over her brother, and he remembered feeling for her, since he could easily see his father or mother lying in Fred Weasley's place. "Yeah, I will."