His Memories

His Memories

Chapter six

A Love So Complete

But the love you gave me will always live
You'll always be there every time I fall
You offered me the greatest love of all
You take my weakness and you make me strong
And I will always love you 'til forever comes

--Goodbye, Celine Dion

Thirteen hours later...

"That's it, Ginny," Molly squeezed her daughter's hand once more. "You're almost there."

That's what you said an hour ago, Ginny thought as she braced to push yet again...Only this time, it was over.

Held tightly by her mother, Ginny screwed her eyes shut, waiting to hear the baby cry, waiting for Colleen, the midwife, to say something, or for Pinny to screech incoherently.

It was Molly who spoke first. "You have a daughter, Ginny."

Two hours later, Ginny finally let Colleen take Emma from her arms and place her in the bassinette. Draco still wasn't home, and Pinny had been gone for over an hour looking for him.

"She's the most perfect little thing I've ever seen, mum," said Ginny, craning her neck to gaze at the sleeping bundle next to the bed.

"Just like you, dear," Molly beamed, brushing a strand of hair off Ginny's face. "She's a Weasley, I'm sure of it. Not much hair yet, but I had seven of you children and you all looked like this. Can't say anything about the eyes yet, but in a few months you'll know." Her voice trailed off and she stared hard at Ginny's face.

"I wouldn't care if her hair was bright pink and her eyes were purple. What?" Ginny was growing uncomfortable with the puzzled look her mother was giving her.

"I've never seen this before, is it new?" she asked, tracing her finger across the faint scar on Ginny's forehead. Obviously it didn't look new. "You know what it looks like...No." She shook her head.

"Mum it's...it happened with I worked at Slug and Jiggers, a potion exploded and well..."

"Perhaps, dear, but...you do have his diary, don't you?" Ginny looked down at her hands resting in her lap and nodded. "What has it done to you?"

"Mum, I--" Ginny started to say, but the door opened. Ginny's gaze snapped up in time to see her husband walk in followed by his father and mother. Her own father was a few steps behind them, and she could see his expression change from annoyance at being in the same room with Lucius Malfoy to joy over the birth of his granddaughter.

Well, this is incredibly awkward, She thought, although it might have been Harry's voice and not her own. It was rather difficult to tell.

"Draco, come see your daughter," she said, gesturing to the bassinette. The look on Draco's face reminded her why she loved him. He was already addicted to the sight of his little girl, and he had that same look as he approached his parents to present the child to them. Ginny was sure she could see a glint of disappointment in Lucius' eyes--not that she cared--but at least Narcissa was willing to ogle over her granddaughter.

"And what is her name?" Lucius asked Draco.

"Emily Mae," Ginny said with a smile. Draco looked at her and gave her a wink before returning his attention to his father. But Lucius wasn't looking at the baby. He was looking at her, and it was not a look of "congratulations", or a "how dare you bear my son a daughter", it was a "what is that mark on your forehead." Ginny hastily brushed her hair over the scar, but it was too late.

He saw it, didn't he? the voice echoed in her head. She didn't really need to reply though. It was quite obvious.

When all the congratulations had been said, and everyone had had their chance to hold the baby, Colleen herded everyone but Draco out of the room. But even he wouldn't be able to stay for much longer, according to the midwife.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked when the door was closed.

"I was kind of busy, and I wasn't supposed to know you were at your parents, remember." Ginny glared at him. The day had been relatively peaceful, minus the intense birthing pains, but here she was at the beginning of another fight with her husband.

"But you knew that if Pinny popped in that he would find my mother and father, as well as me and your dad."

Ginny nodded. "Mum told me where my father was. Do you have a problem with that?"

"I don't believe I could," he replied bitterly. "Considering you do loads of things without my knowledge."

He knows, said the voice.

"What?" she cried.

"I said you do--"

"No," she cut him off. "I mean...how did you know about...this?" She brought her hand to her forehead.

"I'm not blind, Virginia. I saw the scar ages ago, but before then, I knew."

"How?"

I told him.

"You told him!" Draco may have known about the diary and the scar, but he still didn't know she could hear Harry's thoughts in her head. He looked confused by her outburst.

"You mean my father?" he asked.

"No, just a moment, Draco."

He found the diary, saw your name in it and asked what all of that meant. I never trusted him, and part of me still doesn't, but I do remember that he saved me--I mean the diary--from his father in the forest that day.

"Are you ill?" Draco asked.

"No, I'm fine. He just...just told me that he told you. But why?"

"You hear him?"

"Yes, but when? When did he tell you this?" She needed to know how long her husband had known she was lying to him.

"Just after I got the Mark, when I found out you couldn't touch it, I knew it wasn't just the pregnancy. My father would have warned me if that were true. So I took out the diary."

"I can't believe you. Wait, yes I can," she laughed coldly. "I should have expected this from---"

Draco interrupted. "Yes, yes, yes, he never trusted me. But I believe we're even now, considering we had agreed that you would wait until after our child was born to take this last step."

"I..." Ginny was lost for words. She was angry with Draco, and herself, and with Harry, and confused, and...it was just too much. "I'm sorry," she said, tears streaking down her face. "Why didn't you tell me you knew instead of making me think you were just didn't want to be around me."

"Well, it's Potter," he said with a shrug, as though that should have been explanation enough.

"It's still me, I just have a few extra memories. It's not like he's...in me. That would be..." She shuddered at that. "I don't want to think about it."

"Then how do you explain the scar, and the burning when you touch it?"

"That's the protection," she explained reaching for his arm. He withdrew it. "The ancient magic that they wanted to preserve in the diary. Didn't he tell you that?" she asked. Draco shook his head. "If I hold your arm too long, if would burn the Mark right off."

"I see." Draco nodded.

"I can hear Harry's thoughts in my head, but it's not him taking over me. That's not how it all works, so you don't have to feel disgusted about touching me." Ginny took his hand in assurance. "I haven't been writing in the diary that much, because of the baby, but I'll start writing every day now."

His father, remember what his father saw.

"But Draco, I think your father knows. He saw the scar on my forehead, I know he did."

Draco leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers. "We'll take care of it when the time comes."

.~*~.

Christmas...

Harry was nearly worn out by the time he arrived at the clearing, but he immediately regained his composure as he caught sight of Lucius Malfoy, moonlight glinting off of his hair. The man had his arms crossed about his chest and was watching the perimeter, waiting for movement. Knowing he was more than twenty minutes early, Harry paused and stepped behind a large tree. He leaned his back against it, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. This was it. He was prepared--but he wasn't. He wanted to go out on his terms, and he'd made every arrangement possible. But that didn't mean he wanted to die now.

"I can do this," he muttered to himself.

"And you will," a silky voice whispered in his ear.

"Fucking hell!" Harry's eyes flew open. Malfoy took a step back and gave Harry an appraising look.

"You're early," Malfoy noted with a sneer.

"I walked, rather than take the Portkey you sent. Thought I might try to wear myself out...you know, die along the way. No luck," Harry smirked, and he almost broke. It was impossible.

"I see through your veil of sarcasm, Potter. You're frightened."

Harry shook his head while his mind shouted out the opposite. He'd never been more frightened in his life.

"Well, let's just do it then," said Harry, pushing away from the tree and stepping backwards into the clearing. "Blood, right. You need blood."

"That is correct, but not so fast, boy."

"What now, Malfoy? I haven't got much time and you know that. Will you just kill me already so the world can go on with its spinning or whatever it does."

Lucius' gloved hand caught Harry by the chin, squeezing it tightly and lifting the boy up on his toes. There was no way Harry could fight against it. He was too weak and wouldn't be able to hide it any longer.

"You'll get your wish--" hissed Malfoy.

"And so will Voldemort," Harry interrupted. "Yes, he must be so eager for his lap dog to return with the precious blood."

Lucius shoved Harry away, releasing his jaw at the last second. Harry could see the man seething behind his mask of arrogance. Harry no longer feared it. He was to face bigger, more important things soon enough.

"Nicked myself shaving this morning. Will that do?" Harry asked. "Or perhaps--" A sharp slap across his cheek sent Harry flying to the ground and he only just caught himself before his face would have slammed into the dirt. Pushing himself to his knees, Harry looked up at Malfoy, hair tousled with the effort he'd exerted. Harry remained in his position, wiping the moist trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. He raised his eyebrows and held it up to Malfoy. Malfoy ignored him and pulled out a sword from the folds of his cloak.

"And I thought you were just happy to see me," Harry commented wryly, but the exhaustion in his voice overpowered. Malfoy was beyond words, and Harry could see in the man's eyes that it was over. He had a mission and nothing was going to stop him.

A sharp glint of moonlight reflected off of the blade as Malfoy positioned it. And Harry, defiant until the end, bared his chest, closed his eyes, and let the cold steel slice through his body...

"Father," Draco cautiously touched the Lucius' shoulder. He had observed his father staring out the window of his study. He appeared to be lost in thought and didn't even acknowledge when Draco had opened the door. "Our Lord is waiting."

"Ah, Draco." Lucius turned, blinking as he came back to himself. "Is that the Portkey?" he asked, gesturing with the flick of his chin at the wrapped package in his son's hand. Draco nodded and cast his gaze to the object that would send his beloved wife to send her off to her death. He would never forgive himself for this, but he'd already been sentenced to a life in hell. He was tense and his father could sense it.

"She should have listened, Draco," Lucius consoled--in as much as he was capable. The plan was his idea.

Leaving his father to join the Dark Lord, Draco made his way to his suite where he knew Virginia had escaped to when the party had become too much. She detested being a society wife and Draco loved her for it.

.~*~.

With her daughter sleeping soundly in the next room, Ginny walked over to the window to look out over the Manor grounds. The window reflected her face and hands and the light colored décor of the suite, but through the image of her dark green dress, she could see the gardens decorated with fairy lights and sparkling garlands. There were a few witches and wizards milling around a frozen fountain just off to the right, and others off down the paths where benches had been set for guests who wanted fresh air.

She didn't want to join any of them, and needed these fleeting moments alone to revive herself. She was there only for her husband but she would rather have been fighting for the last pudding in her mother's kitchen on a night like this. Since the baby had been born, she had spent more time with her mother and father and brothers. Perhaps after things were straightened out concerning Harry's diary and Voldemort, she would coax Draco into joining her for family gatherings at the Burrow.

Until then...

Behind her, the door to the suite opened and she saw her husband walk in. She couldn't help but smile as she gazed at his dazzling reflection.

"You didn't have to leave the party," she said, turning. "I was just on my way down. I had to look in on Emily one last time." Draco walked closer and she could see something...odd in his eyes.

"And she's still sleeping peacefully, right?" he asked, his speech stilted.

"Yes." Ginny wrapped her arms around Draco, running her hands against the grain of his velvet robes. His muscles were tense. "Our daughter is a perfect angel, and I still hold to my prediction that she'll be in Gryffindor. She doesn't have much hair yet, but what's there is going to be red, I just know it."

"And red-heads aren't allowed in Slytherin?"

"You tell me, it wasn't my house." Draco squeezed his wife tighter, but without realizing that he was digging the package he was holding into her back.

"Ow," she said, pulling away. "What's that?"

"Oh, this?" He hastily shoved it into her hands. "My father wanted me to give this to you?"

She took the nondescript package that felt suspiciously like a book, and read the name on the outside. "Virginia Malfoy," she read allowed. "He knows I hyphenate."

"Just open it," he said nervously.

"Oddly, this reminds me of when Harry gave me the diary." Draco averted his eyes at the mention of the book. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine," he said shortly.

"There is not nearly enough wine in my system to believe you." She nudged him playfully with her shoulder and he stiffened.

"Well there's plenty in mine, come on, just open it." Ginny looked away from Draco slowly, his expression was eerily familiar, but she couldn't figure out why. It was bad enough that he looked too much like his father, and now he was acting just as peculiar.

She untied the green ribbon that held the parchment around the book and even before she turned it right side up, her stomach tightened. It was a diary, not Harry's, but it looked exactly like it. The page that fell open when she flipped through it was the one where she had written Harry's name three times that day in the Dark Forest. More writing had been added beneath hers, and she knew it wasn't Draco's, nor was it Harry's. It was Lucius Malfoy's, she realized with cold fear.

~~~

An admirable effort, indeed, but you should have known we would eventually find out that the diary and all its powers still existed. You are a foolish girl, and should never have been entrusted with that enchanted diary. We all know what you are capable of under the influence of such a book. Just what are the effects of Harry Potter's diary on you? That mark on your forehead is no coincidence. Do you have nightmares because of it? Do you wake up and feel it tingling?

~~~

She'd only read half of what was written when the tears in her eyes began to blur the graceful loops and swirls of Lucius' perfect handwriting. "Draco, did you--" she looked up at her husband, but couldn't continue because Draco was nervously checking his pocket watch. Before she could fit the pieces together, it happened--the hook behind her navel that pulled her into a gray swirl. Already she could feel the sweet acidic flavor in her mouth.

When she landed, her feet firmly on the ground, a thousand pinpricks of cold air penetrated her thin robes and drove into her skin. Had she know she would be unexpectedly taken to an abandoned moor in the middle of winter; she would have dressed for it. But she wasn't thinking about that for long, and was soon reminded why she no longer liked Portkeys. Falling to her knees and threw up on the ground.

"Lumos," she heard an unnaturally high voice say, followed by, "Feeling a little ill, are we?" She knew who it was and reached for her wand--her wand. It was sitting on the table next to the bed.

"No, just cold," she said, slowly standing and trying to hide the fact that she'd left her wand at the Manor. Her muscles contracted from the cold, and not the fear that climaxed inside her as that icy voice spoke. When she turned, she could see Voldemort standing uncomfortably close to her. I need you now Harry, where the hell are you?

Here, just relax. The voice reassured her.

No thanks; I think I'll panic now.

Voldemort was holding a stick in his other hand--not a wand, just a twig to push her fringe aside, exposing the lightning shaped scar. "So, it is true, although if I'm not mistaken, that scar hurt Potter when he was near me."

"I think it was just when you were feeling murderous." Ginny turned her head away, the twig scratching her forehead.

Voldemort dropped it, and with his bony fingers lightly touched her face. There was a faint sizzling sound before he pulled his hand away. "Pity. Lucius tells me you would have made a fine Death Eater."

"Oh really. And you believe him"

"Why wouldn't he believe me, Virginia? You are a Malfoy now," said Lucius' disembodied voice. He was just out of the wand light, but when she looked closely she could see his outline sauntering her way.

"I hyphenate!" she yelled in the voice's direction.

"Full of spirit," Voldemort continued, "Is it all yours? Or does some of it belong to Potter?" But Ginny was no longer paying attention to him, she was looking at Lucius walking toward her, followed by--she blinked--Lucius?

No, Draco--

"Did you hear me, girl? I said give me that book. Accio." She hadn't been listening--to Voldemort that is, and the book slid easily from her hand.

That's it, summon Draco's wand, she heard the voice in her head say. You know he keeps it in a holster on his wrist, take it. You don't need a wand to summon it, not at this range.

"Clever of you to try and deceive me with this decoy," Voldemort smirked. "And incredibly foolish. You have only made things worse for yourself and your beloved Harry Potter," he spat, tossing the phony diary to the side.

While his attention was elsewhere, Ginny held out her hand and intoned, "Accio wand." This caught Draco by surprise. He wasn't expecting to have his wand ripped out of its holster. But he was the only one who showed any emotion. Lucius continued sporting the sneer he'd arrived wearing, and Voldemort, without skipping a beat snatched not only Draco's wand as if flew past him, but Ginny's which had been apparently been hidden in the pocket of Draco's cloak.

He held Ginny's wand in one hand, and with Draco's, he conjured ropes that wrapped themselves tightly around Ginny's arms and legs. He tossed Draco's wand back to him saying, "Never let your wife know where you keep your wand."

"Marital advise? From you?" Ginny scoffed figuring her situation was already dire. She tried struggling against her bonds, but it was useless.

"My Lord," Lucius said. "May I?"

Voldemort nodded, and Lucius cast a silencing charm on Ginny.

Now would be a good time for you to manifest yourself, and do some damage, she told the voice, since Lucius hadn't silenced her thoughts.

The diary isn't here, I can't--no, wait, it is. Draco has it, I think.

Then what are you waiting for?

Give me a minute.

That's all you get.

"Having a little internal struggle, are we?" asked Voldemort. Ginny opened her mouth to deliver a smart reply, but nothing came out. "Draco," he said.

"My Lord."

"Give me the diary."

Draco took it out of his pocket, but Voldemort didn't summon it. He simply held out his hand, waiting for Draco to walk it over to him, and he did. "But my Lord--"

"Hand it over, NOW!" he yelled.

Draco's voice was shaking furiously, and there was nothing Slytherin about him at that point. "But my Lord, there are...she's put several charms over this book."

"Well then I hope you know your wife better than she knows you." Draco stopped, and would have been motionless if he hadn't been shaking. "What are you waiting for?"

Draco worked quickly, and to Ginny's horror and surprise, he knew each charm she'd placed on it, and how to remove it.

Voldemort let Ginny's wand fall to the ground and carefully took the diary with his robes covering his hand so it wouldn't burn him. He turned it over, inspecting the name on the back before saying, "Do you know I made one of these once? Of course you do. You are the resident expert on these items, aren't you? You and I are the only two who know what it's like to be me." She shuddered at that. Not having the use of her voice to retort, or the use of her hands to make an obscene gesture, she simply stuck her tongue out at the dark wizard. Voldemort didn't change his expression, neither did Lucius', but Draco's face did betray smile causing him to bite his bottom lip in an effort to suppress it. Voldemort carefully opened the diary to the first page. "Lucius, she does hyphenate her name," he observed with a wry smile.

Ginny glanced over at Lucius, who might have been a statue at this point for all the emotion he betrayed, a statue with a lemon under its nose. He'd reassumed his sneer after casting the silencing charm.

"I wonder what would happen if I wrote something in this?"

Ginny snapped her gaze back at Voldemort as he conjured a quill and began writing. Ginny didn't know what he had written, but it was something significant because soon after, she heard the voice in her head.

That's all I needed. Are you ready for this? It will probably feel a little strange.

At that, Ginny lost her balance, falling to the ground with a thud. She wasn't loosing consciousness, like with Tom Riddle's diary, but she did feel even colder than before, and was fairly certain she wouldn't be able to stand back up, even if her legs hadn't been tied together. What she felt inside was strange indeed. Like someone ripping Spellotape from her internal organs, very fast, and several times.

When the feeling had finally passed, she was still lying on the ground. There was no longer a voice in her head, and her eyesight was impaired somehow because she could see two Voldemorts and four Malfoys--two of which were rushing toward her.

"No," Voldemort said. "Lucius, you help her stand." The other two walked toward her, and eventually melded into one. She was relieved--a little--because one Lucius was bad enough. He carelessly pulled on her arm until her feet were beneath her, but the second he let go she fell to the ground.

"This is not helping your situation, Virginia Weasley hyphen Malfoy," Lucius said through his teeth. He spat the name Weasley, overemphasized the hyphen, and even spat the name Malfoy as though she had somehow managed to taint his family name and all the evil it stood for. This time, he pulled her over to a tree, and propped her up lopsided against it. Although she didn't enjoy being dragged around, she was pleased at how irritated Lucius was getting. He leaned down, and held her chin with his leather-gloved hand. His face was just inches away from hers.

"Finite Incantatem," he said. The smell of brandy was strong on his frozen breath.

"The least you could do is offer me your cloak," she snapped, once she was sure the words would come out.

He tightened his grip on her chin, and if he hadn't been wearing gloves, his perfectly manicured nails would be cutting into her cheeks. "Do you know what is about to happen?"

"Surprise party in my honor?"

She may as well have had the silencing charm on her because he wasn't paying attention to what she was saying. "If you had been listening to the Dark Lord, you would know." With a jerk, he let go of her chin, and stood up. He used his knee to push her from her lopsided position, and then turned to walk away. But he stopped short as a familiar voice, and a welcome one--to Ginny at least--called out.

"Leave her alone, Malfoy," Harry demanded. Ginny turned her head in the direction of Harry's voice, the same one she'd heard in her head for so long. He looked...he looked exactly as he had the day he was murdered. Determined as ever, with her wand--somehow he'd managed to retrieve it--grasped tightly in his hand and trained on Lucius. "Your dealings are with me now."

"I killed you," Lucius replied in a hushed tone, as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing. What had he expected? Ginny wondered.

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry reminded him with a broad smile.

"And an arrogant little brat," hissed Voldemort.

"Expell--" Harry started to say, but Voldemort was too quick. With a conjured Basilisk's tooth in one hand, he thrust it through the diary. Ink spilled from the newly made hole and from between the pages, splattering over his robes. Harry cried out and fell to the ground, his body dissolving away moments later.

"No," Ginny cried, once again able to struggle against her bindings. "He can't be gone," she muttered to herself. Through her tear-streaked vision, she could see Voldemort approach her, the still-impaled diary clutched firmly in his robe-covered hand. Ginny's breathing hitched.

"Dead, yes," confirmed the Dark Lord. "A thorn in my side no more, and you will soon join him."

"No," she whispered, choking on her own tears. "I'm sorry, Harry."

I'm still here, Ginny. The voice suddenly spoke.

"Harry?" she said and already she began to smile. Of course that wouldn't kill him. Only she could destroy the diary.

"He should have protected this thing against more that just a simple killing curse." Voldemort tossed the diary at Ginny's side. "Do you believe that with the diary out of the way you are safe?"

With what strength she still had, Ginny shook her head, rather forcefully, causing her hair to shift. Whatever she did, Voldemort was not pleased. He touched her face, and still there was a sizzling sound. She cringed and he immediately pulled his hand away.

"He's smarter than you thought," she said. "You do know that Dumbledore helped him with this."

Ask him if he would pull the tooth out. The voice said to her. Ginny let a broad smile creep across her face.

"This is not over. It would appear that magic will not destroy this diary. What to do?" the Dark Lord's voice sent a shiver through her body. However, he already seemed to know, and this frightened her.

"I despise Muggles and all they stand for," he began, reaching for something hidden in the folds of his robes. "Though I give them credit--not much--in the techniques they use to take a life. I dare say that old fool did not considered this possibility." The click of metal on metal rang out in the bitter cold, and Ginny couldn't figure out why the Dark Lord was smiling with such malice. He held an object in one hand, his fingers wrapped around one end--a handle--and the other end aimed at the sky.

"Have you seen one of these before?" he asked her, and as she was about to shake her head, the voice--Harry's voice said, a gun. Oh, God, Ginny. He's going to shoot you.

"A what?" she whispered, but Voldemort was the one to answer.

"A gun, my dear. A piece of lead projected through this barrel, propelled by the force of a small explosion of powder. The powder is credited to our kind, but Muggles have harnessed it to cause pain." The barrel he'd gestured to was now pointed at Ginny, and she assumed he was aiming for her. If she understood correctly, the lead would pierce her chest if he were to trigger the explosion he was explaining. Magic wouldn't be able to stop that, not when everyone there was waiting for her death.

"My Lord, Please--" Draco rushed forward, stopped short by his father's hand on his robes.

Lucius whispered something through his that spawned unadulterated rage in Draco's eyes. He shoved his father to the ground and managed to loosen the ropes around Ginny before Voldemort aimed the gun at Draco. Unfazed by the weapon pointed in his direction, he rushed to his wife's side and helped her to stand. Confounded, she let him help, but she still couldn't understand his change of heart.

"Move, boy," hissed Voldemort. There was no mistaking that the Dark Lord intended to make Draco pay for this one betrayal with his life.

"No, I won't let you kill my wife." That pretty much settled it.

It's happening, she heard Harry's voice say. Tralawney's prediction.

What are you talking about? Ginny asked.

Trelawney said I would be shot on a deserted moor. I never took her seriously. But I should have.

If I'm dead, what happens to the diary? she asked, but already knew. Harry's memories, life force, and the ancient magic she had been trusted to protect would be lost. And Voldemort?

The voice didn't respond. Ginny's lower lip began to quiver, realizing that there was no way out of her situation. She closed her eyes and placed her hands on Draco's shoulders. He intended to take the shot for her, but she would not let that happen.

She knew what she had to do, and focused her attention on her husband and their enemy. They had apparently been engaged in a battle of words, and Draco was losing. There wasn't much time now.

"If I shoot now, the bullet will go through you, Draco and still hit your beloved wife. Would you rather I kill you as well?" she heard Voldemort say.

Draco stiffened but replied, "Isn't it obvious?"

"Step back Virginia," he whispered to her, but she didn't move.

"No," she replied. "There is something I still have to do."

"Don't be stupid, step away?"

"I love you, Draco. Please let me do this."

"No."

Ginny tightened her arms around Draco and pressed her head against his back as she held him.

"I love you, Draco, and I won't let you die to protect me."

What are you doing? Harry's voice finally asked.

What you asked me to do the day you gave me that diary.

With all her might, Ginny pushed Draco to the side and took his wand before he could understand. She pointed the wand, but the Dark Lord was quick to react.

He squeezed the trigger.

The sound of a gunshot rent the frigid air as the bullet pierced Ginny's chest.

.~*~.

Draco rushed to his wife's side, cradling her body to his and letting himself forget that he would be next. "No," he whispered, rocking her barely responsive body.

"So this is the choice you've made," Voldemort hissed. Draco could hear him just a few feet away. He kept his eyes to the ground, but noticed that his father had recovered and was standing next to the Dark Lord. Clearly, he didn't care for his son the way Draco cared for his wife, or Lord Voldemort would already be but a memory.

"Very well," said the Dark Lord when he received no reply. Draco braced himself for the curse, and was thrown in the air as a flash of green backfired with the force of a speeding train.

When he regained his faculties moments later, he sat up, staring at the bundle of robes on the ground where the Dark Lord had stood. His father, who had also been thrown back, and was staring in disbelief at the remains of his Master.

"Virginia," Draco whispered, looking to where she lay, motionless. He tried to move quickly, but with his body bruised and battered, he could manage limping and cautious movements as he sank to the ground at her side.

"We're not too far from the Manor. I can still save you."

"No," she said in a labored voice. "...can't...save..."

"Don't say that, yes I can. Just don't let go. Stay with me!"

"...love...you..."

.~*~.