Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Chapter Eleven – Ashamed of What You Feel

"But no, I don’t want to play

Being with you touches me more than I can say

But since I’m only dead to you, I’m saying stay away

And let me rest in peace."

-Buffy Cast, "Rest in Peace"

Monday, November 3, 2003

Draco appeared in a small corner between shops, still holding Ginny’s arms tightly. The two went flying due to pre-Apparition momentum and smacked with an audible thud against the bricks of a building. Note to self, Draco mused – Apparition and the Laws of Physics do not cancel each other out. Pain flashed through his skull, but he shook it off.

Ginny looked slightly unfocused as she met Draco’s gaze. After a moment of confused silence, her eyes suddenly widened as she sucked in breath to scream. His reaction was immediate, as he clamped his hand over her mouth. "Don’t. I’ve Apparated us behind a café in Knockturn Alley. I doubt many of the people around here would take kindly to a Muggle-loving Weasley, no matter what your brothers did."

The shock in her eyes betrayed her. She clearly had not a clue what was going on. Frowning deeply, Draco stared back in confusion. She didn’t even seem to recognize him... "It’s me, Draco Malfoy. It’s just a glamour, I’m an eighth Veela."

Very calmly, Ginny gathered her strength and shoved him across the alley. "Don’t touch me. What the hell do you think you’re doing? Knockturn Alley? I’ve got to get out of here before they lynch me!"

"Trust me? Just for a minute?" At her skeptical glare, he shot into his explanation. "They certainly won’t be looking for you here. They WILL be looking for you in Hogsmeade, however. You’re going to Hogwarts, right?"

"How did you know that?" She frowned, stepping away from the wall. "Why were you in the crowd? How did you know they were gathering?"

"There were Death Eaters behind the mob, egging them on. I saw Goyle and Nott, and Avery at the very least. As it was done with Voldemort’s sanction, I was told to show up too." Draco reached out, setting his hand on Ginny’s hair. He murmured a spell before she could jerk back. Her hair darkened and changed to a mousey-brown. "There. I bet your own brothers wouldn’t recognize you."

She pushed his hand away, nonetheless. "Why are you doing this? I don’t understand... you made six years of my life a living hell! Your father nearly killed me when I was only eleven years old!"

"Ginny," he whispered, reaching out to take her shoulders and hold her tightly. "I’m sorry for every hurt I helped cause to you. I wish that could make amends, though I know it can’t. It seems I’ve put you in another one, through my own stupidity. Blaise said that I... mentioned your name during a torture session I have no more memory of."

"You WHAT -?"

He plowed onward, cutting her off as quickly as he could. "You’re in terrible danger, and just making it to Hogwarts won’t be enough – for either of us. You’re right to bring up the diary, you know. Whether you like it or not, part of Tom Riddle touched you. If Lord Voldemort gets his hands on you, I’m not sure what will happen."

"Fine time to warn me, Malfoy." Ginny twisted from his grasp, stalking toward the edge of the darkened alley. "If Hogwarts isn’t safe, what is? The papers said You-Know-Who struck the Yanks yesterday."

She spat his name, as if disgusted by it. Draco tried not to wince, but failed miserably. He’d done it again, managed to hurt her – and this time, he was only trying to help. "Blaise said she’d hide you for a few nights. You can trust her. She’s been hit just as hard by losing Fred as the rest of us."

Ginny snorted derisively. "And now you’re trying to convince me that my brother was involved with a Death Eater? I’m sorry if I can’t believe you, Malfoy."

"Please, give me a chance." The name again; tasting sour on her lips, he was sure. "I know I’ve given you no reason to trust me, but both our lives are in danger."

Light brown hair swirled around her face as she turned back to him. He reveled in the contours as he had the day of Fred’s funeral, eyes caressing and longing. "If Fred and Hermione trusted you, I suppose you’re not working for You-Know-Who. I’ll come with you, for now – but I have to get to Hogwarts before any more decisions are made. I need to find my family."

"Fine," Draco agreed eagerly. Hurrying to the edge of the alley, he grabbed hold of one of her arms and dragged her onto the dismal main section of Knockturn Alley. "We’ll take the Floo over. Safer."

He tried to ignore the gaze of loathing she fixed on him as she tried to yank her arm from his grasp. Draco didn’t let her, and hurried onward, despite the mental image of a white flower wilting.

~

Ron stepped into the staff lounge hesitantly, getting the strong feeling that Snape or McGonagall was waiting just around the corner to swoop down and take 50 points from Gryffindor. He shook it off as quickly as it came, sparing a moment to push his glasses up. Even after years of adulthood, the teacher’s lounge felt like a taboo place.

And there, curled up in a ragged chair that looked nearly as old as the building itself, Hermione was sleeping silently. Harry’s infant was cuddled in her arms, sleeping as well, and her face was red with dried tears. Ron gave a mournful sigh and slipped into a chair across from her.

Only after being reassured by her even breathing that he hadn’t awakened her, Ron spoke softly. "I’m back, Mione. I’m sorry I left like that. I know it’s been years, and I know I hurt you when I ran off – but I found Harry. He’s back now, it’ll be the three of us, the way it used to be."

"Nothing is the way it used to be."

Ron sprung from his seat, spinning to face the voice from behind him. He was perched on the edge of a hard wooden chair, sitting straight as a line, his dark hair more tousled and ill-kept than Ron had seen it. "Harry?"

"Nothing is the way it used to be," he repeated, eyes cold as ice behind wire-rim glasses. Before Ron could respond, the emerald eyes flickered to the floor. "Why did you follow me? I didn’t want to be found. I was happy. I had Rachel and James, and Rachel’s family was wonderful... I had a job, I liked being a lawyer. I helped make sure the ones who are locked away were really the guilty ones. I was finally proud of myself. I tried to forget magic and Hogwarts and Voldemort – and then he showed up on my doorstep and tore my happiness to shreds yet again! And then – you came in. I wanted to die! Why didn’t you let me die!?"

Gaping silently, Ron stared. Suddenly, the lines of his friend’s face made him look ancient. He noticed the bits of grey peppering the locks of black, the creases marring youth, and the dullness shading the green eyes which had been so full of life. So many questions.

Ron barely noticed as Hermione shoved him aside, the baby cradled protectively in her arms. "Harry, don’t say that. You don’t want to die. What would happen to your son?"

The slightest hint of a smile lit Harry’s face. "He has his mum’s curls. He’ll be two months old, tomorrow. Rachel... Rach was supposed to go back to work today."

"Tell me about her, Harry? I wish I could’ve met her. She must’ve been wonderful." Hermione shifted James to one arm and placed the other on Harry’s arm, leading him away from Ron and the teacher’s lounge.

"She was perfect," he whispered. "She would’ve liked you, Hermione. She was wonderful."

Ron looked on in silence, sinking down into a chair as Harry and Hermione disappeared down the hallway. Chasing after windmills, Fred had joked, before Ron picked up everything and moved to New York in search of Harry. Four years, three jobs, nine girlfriends and a war later, Ron finally realized what his brother had meant. Change caught up with him.