THIRTY-NINE

When the front door of Blaise's apartment opened to reveal the man himself, Ginny had to stop herself from gasping. She had already half turned away from the door, not expecting a response to her knock. Blaise, she was sure, would be long gone by now. Almost a week had passed since the events at Malfoy Manor and the day after when she had related to Harry what had happened there.

For a moment, she thought that he was going to tell her to go away. His eyes darkened - his expression hardening. Then a look of weariness washed over him, accompanied by an air of resignation.

Stepping to one side, he swung an arm and said, "Come in. You look like you could use a drink."

Ginny stepped inside, sliding past him, while saying, "Isn't it a bit early for booze?"

"Well, I didn't mean alcohol but now you mention it that might be a good idea. I didn't expect to see you again." He closed the door and led the way through into the sitting room. Ginny followed almost nervously. When she had knocked on the door, she honestly had not expected him to answer. The decision to see whether he was there had been impulsive, and she had regretted only a moment after her knuckle had impacted with the door. It was odd to be there, surrounded by things that seemed instantly familiar and yet feeling so uncomfortable. The last time that she had been here, things between them had been so very different.

Ginny made herself sit on the couch. "I wasn't really expecting to be here. I came over to see Hermione, though, and as I was leaving I wondered whether you would still be here."

"You thought I might have done a runner? Well, no doubt that fits with whatever Draco has told you about me."

"He hasn't said anything. I haven't even seen him for more than a few minutes since that night at the Manor. The Aurors have had him in custody ever since." A brief spark of excitement made her shift squirm. "I'm going to see him later, though. There's a chance that they might even let him go today."

Blaise cocked an eyebrow, picking up two tumblers of amber-gold whiskey. He carried them over and held one out. "Didn't the papers say that it was protective custody? I hear there's been quite the outpouring of anger since the details of the fire were leaked to the press."

Ginny snorted.

Sinking onto the armchair opposite, he said, "A lot of people believe that he tried to kill you. They think he did kill someone else."

"A lot of people are idiots who will believe anything that Rita Skeeter writes." Ginny took a sip. Drinking was probably a mistake, she thought. Seeing him had been a shock, though, and considering her life over the last few days it was not entirely inappropriate. She had returned to her flat only to find that it was under close watch by several different reporters. They did not seem to have moved ever since. "There hasn't been any great conspiracy. Bayer killed Bateman. The Aurors found evidence at the scene once they actually started looking instead of trying to just pin the blame on Draco."

Once Harry convinced them to, she added to herself. "Anyway, it's the bank accounts that most of them are angry about."

Blaise nodded, understanding. It had not mattered that Draco had not known about the accounts, or that the Ministry tested him with Veritaserum to confirm as much. People were ready to believe the worst about him. The questions that she had been asked by the reporters lurking outside her flat had been more than enough to stir up Ginny's temper. They were all quite lucky that she had not hexed them.

After a moment, Ginny said, "Have the Aurors been to see you?"

He chuckled, taking a drink before answering. "They've been – three times, just to make sure that they had all the details."

"Oh."

"You don't have to feel guilty, Ginny. I don't blame you. Even if you hadn't told them that I was there that night, Draco would have. It was probably the first thing to come out of his mouth when they started to question him. It would have been even if he hadn't needed to explain how he got to the Manor."

"You don't know that."

"I do. Ginny, whatever you think went on between us, you're wrong."

"I know he blames you for something." She leaned forward, resting her glass on her knee. "You could just tell me why."

"You wouldn't like the answer."

"You realise that only makes me want to know more, right?"

Blaise shot her a half smile. "With you, it doesn't surprise me."

"I'm going to find out one way or another."

"Ask Draco – unless you don't feel like you can?"

Ginny frowned. "It's not that. Don't you want to tell me your side of the story?"

He laughed. "Have you ever thought of going into journalism, Ginny? You're persistent enough."

"Not really. Not about most things. I just want to understand this. I want to know why Draco has acted the way that he has, and why he's ill. I want to know what happened before the two of you and... and Theodore Nott."

Ginny saw him tense, slightly.

"It's all connected," she said. "Draco is ill now because he was cursed. Was it you?"

"No!"

"Nott?"

Blaise hesitated. It was answer enough for Ginny. She stared at him, shocked. "What happened? Please. The Aurors think that he was killed because he knew too much about what Draco was up to. Is it true?"

He leaned forward and set his glass down on the coffee table. Standing, he added, "You should go. Draco is probably itching to see you. I need to get going, myself. Visiting hours start soon at St Mungo's."

Standing quickly, Ginny reached out and grabbed his arm. "Blaise!"

He spun around, startling her. His arm was ripped out from under her fingers and for a heartbeat Ginny wondered whether she had not pushed too hard. "Draco is ill because of me. I didn't curse him, but I might as well have. I left him here, Ginny. We were supposed to leave together, but I left him here because I knew that wherever I went I would be in danger if I had a Malfoy – that Malfoy, particularly - with me. Voldemort invited him into the inner circle, Ginny. He knows things about what went on that should never see the light of day."

"He was trying to get away," Ginny repeated.

Blaise nodded. The anger seemed to drain out of him abruptly. He looked almost defeated. "You've no idea what it was like for us. You've no idea what we were made to do. Then there were the Aurors. Everyone knew that things were coming to a head, and that they weren't looking good for us. Nott found out what we were attempting to do. Afterward, when I heard that he had been acting as an informant for the Aurors I couldn't believe it. He must have been playing both sides. He was certainly clever enough to do it. Draco confronted him and..." He trailed off, and then suddenly shook himself. "I do need to go see my mother."

Ginny stared at him, trying to avoid the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The implication in his words was clear – Draco was the one to kill Theodore Nott.

Finally, she made herself ask, "How is your mum?"

"As well as she was. No better. Ginny?"

They were standing a little too close, she thought. It couldn't have been accidental. She looked up. "Yes?"

"I thought I'd warn you – I'm going to kiss you now. I'd prefer it if you didn't slap me afterward."

"You'd deserve it."

"Probably."

Ginny shook her head, and then before he had chance took a small step forward to lightly kiss him. She did not know entirely what made her do it. In some ways, it was an apology. She knew instinctively that it was goodbye. It was only when she felt Blaise's arms begin to slide around her middle that she moved away again. She did not dare to look him in the eye. Instead, she collected her bag from the couch and pulled it up onto her shoulder.

"You can tell Draco he doesn't have to worry anymore. He can be happy. I'm leaving soon – before the Aurors have chance to arrest me for anything."

"But your mum..."

"She's the one who told me to go."

Ginny nodded, not sure whether she believed him or not.

It was as Ginny was making her way toward the Auror offices when she became aware that she was being watched. A cursory glance over her shoulder showed nothing. A few moments later, however, when she repeated the action, she spied a flamboyant hat. Rita Skeeter.

Ginny stared in her direction, and then took a deep breath. In her current state of mind, dealing with Rita might well be enough to push her over the edge. Blaise's words were still running around her mind. A part of her had even thought of delaying her visit to Draco. Just the thought of doing so left her disappointed, however. As she had left Blaise's apartment, she had realised that whatever Draco had done, she still cared about what was happening to him. Confronting Rita at that moment would do nothing but stir up the woman. A colourful article in the Prophet would follow, and that would only enrage Ginny further.

She turned and headed into the office.

It was obvious that Harry had been waiting for her. Seeing her, he stood up sharply and grinned broadly. Ginny returned the expression cautiously. Lately he seemed to have been making an extra effort to be nice to her. Considering the way that he had initially reacted to her relationship with Draco, she was rather hoping that he had not ended up getting ideas. Her mother had told her firmly that he was just trying to mend bridges. Ginny was still conscious that Harry had suspicions that Draco was guilty of murder. While he was not a suspect in the death of Walter Bateman, there was still Theodore Nott's case that remained unresolved.

That thought made her stiffen, briefly, as she accepted Harry's greeting.

"I've got a surprise for you," he said. "Come on."

They wandered toward the back of the office, in the direction of a door that Ginny knew led in the direction of the cells. Instead of turning left, however, they went straight on. Eventually, after what felt like a million doors, they entered one that appeared different to the others. Inside there was a couch, an armchair, and a coffee table. There was an overly large potted plant jammed into one corner, and a fireplace. Seated on the couch, wearing the same clothes as the night he had been arrested, was Draco.

He pushed himself to his feet as she entered, and moved toward her. Ginny promptly found herself with his arms wrapped tightly around her. She gave in to the feeling, pressing her face into his shoulder. Whatever doubts that she might have felt that things would be awkward between them once the bars were removed, and he was free to go, were instantly dismissed. Excitement bubbled up in her chest, making it suddenly hard to breath. She had been coming to see him, but up until that moment they had not been allowed to touch. It had not felt real.

"He's being released," Harry said. "There isn't anything else to hold him on. Bayer killed Bateman, and he kidnapped you and set fire to the Manor. When we did a little digging, we found out that Bayer and Bateman had been working together for years. Bateman was smuggling Dark objects to the continent where Bayer was selling them."

Ginny pulled away, turning to look at Harry. "They thought we knew," she said as realisation hit. "When we turned up in Basel, and then I contacted Bateman, they must have thought that we knew what they were doing."

Harry nodded. "That's what we think."

Draco's arms tightened around her, pulling her back against his chest. To Ginny's relief, there was no fine tremble in his movements. He felt as strong as ever. "I want to go home," he said into her hair.

"Not yet," Harry said. "There's something else that you have to see yet. It's not here, though."

Behind her, Draco tensed. "Potter, if this is some kind of joke I do not find it amusing. I was rather looking forward to going home and being pampered for the rest of the day."

Ginny twisted so that she was looking back at him. His expression was as serious as she would have expected.

"Malfoy, can we just assume that you've already rubbed my nose in the fact you're going to be getting up to a variety of perverted acts with my ex and move on?"

"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, heat flooding her cheeks.

"No," Draco replied. "Now show us whatever is that has you so excited so I can leave. As fun as the past week has been, I'm sure you've no more desire to be in my company than I have to be in yours."

Harry shook his head. "Just follow me through the Floo, Malfoy."

"It's probably a trick," Draco said, after they watched Harry disappear into the fire place. "I suggest we just go out the front door. He won't even notice until we're halfway home."

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "Let's just find out what he has in mind. You don't want him coming around later, do you?"

He relented, reluctantly, and followed her through the Floo. The place that they emerged into was less a room and more a warehouse. Ginny looked around, open-mouthed, at the row after row of high shelving. Boxes of varying sizes filled the shelves, each carefully labelled and dated. Tilting her head back, she realised that she could not see the top.

"The Evidence Room," Draco said. "Potter, you've brought up to the Ministry evidence room."

Smirking, Harry said, "Come on. We've got a bit of a trek until we get to the section we need to be in."

They followed him along one aisle, turning into another, and then into another. Ginny stuck close to Draco, oddly disconcerted by the boxes on the shelves around her. Some looked as if they had been there for hundreds of years. She did not doubt that they had. Occasionally, as they passed by, one would rattle or vibrate. Once Ginny was sure she even heard a groan. Another time they had to duck as a box went whizzing by at head height.

The section that Harry eventually led them to was noticeably newer than the others. The boxes lacked the layer of dust - the writing on the labels was fresh. In some cases, Ginny thought it look barely dry. It was only until she started to see the names Malfoy and Black crop up that she realised where Harry was taking them to. Soon they were surrounded by boxes that had clearly been taken from Malfoy Manor.

"Of course not everything is here," Harry said. "A lot of it ended up in the Department of Mysteries, and it would seem that Bateman took some things, too. Malfoy, don't touch that."

Ginny stopped and turned around. Draco had dragged a box down from one of the shelves and was already peering inside. His face was ashen. She thought he looked a little as if he was going to be ill. Joining him, Ginny peered into the box. It was full of books.

"Malfoy," Harry called again.

Reluctantly, Draco pushed the box back onto the shelf. Ginny could tell that he was itching to pull another off the shelf and look inside. She was rather tempted herself.

When she saw to what Harry was leading them, though, all thoughts of the boxes on the shelves disappeared. Positioned on a stand, near the end of the aisle, was a portrait of a slender blond man with startling blue eyes. The resemblance to Draco was there, but Ginny would not have said that it was overwhelming. Magnus Malfoy did not have the fine, pointed features of his descendent. He was altogether a friendlier looking man.

"I did a little digging," Harry said proudly. "He'd been mislabelled."

For a second, Draco and the portrait did nothing but eye each other up. Ginny stood at Draco's shoulder, not sure what to say. Eventually, it was Magnus who opened the conversation. "Well, you are a Malfoy, and that is a Weasley girl. I suppose what the Auror said about you wanting recreate my potions is true as well."

"Yes," Draco replied.

Magnus peered at her out of the corner of his eye for a second. Ginny wondered whether he really believed that she could not see what he was doing.

"And you're sure that you're not under any compulsion spells, hexes, or otherwise?" Magnus asked.

Ginny opened her mouth, only to have Draco interrupt. Reaching back, he grasped her hand and said, "No, I'm bloody well not. I am tired, though, and ill, and I wasn't expecting to have to talk to an overly suspicious portraits. Do you know the formulae or not?"

Magnus narrowed his eyes, slightly, and then chuckled. "Were you bright enough to bring something to write with or not?"

They sent an owl to Hermione and another to Vesalius. The former appeared in Ginny's living room only a few minutes later, wrapping her arms around Ginny's shoulders before doing the same to Draco. For his part, Draco stood as still as he possibly could, barely flinching at the contact. Ginny rolled her eyes at him. To Hermione, she gave a copy of the ingredient list and method that Magnus had dictated.

"I can make this," she said excitedly. "Some of the ingredients are a little rare, but I can make it."

"Try to make it taste nice, Granger," Draco said from his position on the couch. He was lounging with his feet up, his hair freshly wet from the shower. "I'm tired of taking things that taste like they came out of the back end of a Hippogriff."

Hermione smiled at him, the expression not entirely pleasant. "Malfoy, I'm going to force this down your throat whether it tastes nice or not."

"I will take it," Draco said to Ginny later, when Hermione had gone and they were alone. "You've given me a reason to whether I want to or not."

Ginny was nestled against his side, enjoying the feeling of his hand on her side. There had been a moment of awkwardness when they had realised they were alone, during which Ginny had felt an overwhelming compulsion to reassure him that she had meant the kiss in the garden. There had been a smug glint in his eye when he said he had not doubted as much even for a minute.

She said nothing. After a moment, he added, "Aren't you going to ask me to explain?"

Wrinkling her nose, Ginny shook her head. "You came for me. You rescued me."

"Risking my skin was all it took for you to lose all your doubts about me then?"

"That, partly, and what Blaise told me. I saw him today."

Draco stiffened.

"He's leaving," she said. "He told me to tell you that. He also explained what happened between you – about how he left you." Peeking up at him, she added, "He told me about Theo Nott."

This time, when he spoke, there was a hint of bitterness in his voice. "How like Blaise to keep trying until the last. I suppose he told you that I was the one to kill him?"

Ginny bit her lip.

"Well I didn't. I should have, but I didn't, and my mother is dead because of it. She killed him to protect me, Ginny. That's the great secret. I should be dead. If I had taken more responsibility then she would not have needed to act, and his father would never have gone after her. I tried to stop him but she would not let me."

"You were caught in the crossfire. That's why you ended up ill," she guessed.

When he did not answer, Ginny tilted her head back so that she could look up at him. His eyes were fixed firmly on the ceiling. The intensity in them was startling.

"I don't know who fired the curse," he said. "It might have been Nott."

But it might have been your mother, Ginny finished, shocked. She tried to imagine what it must have been like to not know for so many years. On top of the self-blame he had applied, it was more than explanation enough for his actions.

Twisting, she moved so that she could kiss him deeply. It was all there was left to do.

THE END

Note: So, it's finished. It has taken me a very long time to write and complete this story, so posting this final part feels strange. I want to thank those people who stuck with it. Some of you have been there right from the start back in 2006 – almost five years ago. There's a part of me that still can't believe you had the patience.

There are bound to be plot holes with this story. I wrote it over such a long time, and the vision of what I wanted changed several times before I reached the conclusion. I've done my best to tidy up as many of them as I could, however, and it's fair to say that I never write a story without planning precisely what I want from it any more before of this story.

There won't be a sequel (if anyone could actually stand for me to write one). I like the way this has been concluded, and when you consider that my original idea was to kill Draco off I think you'll agree (hopefully) that this version is better.

Thanks again, HumbugGirl