FIVE

---

Ginny breathed deeply as she exited the office, tears of frustration already threatening to spill from her eyes. Five appointments and three different Mediwizards later she was still no closer to discovering why, even after being given a clean bill of health on being discharged from St Mungo’s, her body still ached on a daily – almost hourly - basis. The latest physician had turned out to be no different from the rest, even going so far as to suggest that she was imagining the pain.

“It’s simply a matter of time, Miss Weasley,” he had said, peering over the tops of his thin framed glasses at her. Combined with his neatly styled silver-grey hair and expensive robes, they had given him an air of complete authority. “What you’re feeling are phantom pains. In time they will fade and then disappear entirely.”

Ginny had barely been able to suppress a snarl as she listened. It had been over two months since her undesired stay at the cottage – since the morning when she had fallen down the attic stairs and crashed into the spindles of the banister guarding the route to the ground floor. The force of the impact had been more than enough to leave her with a broken bone or two.

Or four, as the tests had shown later.

Personally, Ginny thought that two months was more than enough time. She was getting tired of hobbling, and of having to keep an extending cane in her bag just in case she felt like she needed it. And she did, in spite of what the assorted members of the medical profession claimed.

Turning sharply, she started to walk away down the green tiled corridor only to stop suddenly. Standing only a few feet away - leaning casually against the wall and dressed in a crisp tailored set of robes - was the last person that she wanted to see.

He straightened up on seeing her, his expression carefully schooled.

“Hello, Draco,” she said with a weary sigh.

---

There was little more than a blur where her memories of that morning at the cottage should have been. What she did recall was confused and tainted by those memories from her fall while playing with the Harpies. It was worse at night, when she was trying to sleep. The nightmares that had begun to plague her back in October had now returned completely, fiercer than ever.

She did remember Draco shouting her name, and the way that he had hovered over her with a horrified look on his face. She remembered him crouching by her side as he spoke in a deceptively calm voice, though what he said was lost forever. From what she had been told, Foster had arrived soon after, a trained Curse Breaker with him. They had not so much dismantled the wards as destroyed them. The solicitor had been quite distressed when he had attempted to contact her the evening before, and had discovered that she was unreachable. Her next memory, however, was from waking in the all too familiar surroundings of a private room in St Mungo’s with her mother slumped in a chair by her bed. For a moment, she had thought that she was dreaming.

Draco had been nowhere to be seen. Indeed, he had not visited her once while she had been in hospital, or while she was recuperating at The Burrow. There was no reason that he should have, of course. No doubt whatever plan he had been following had played out, even if it had not ended quite as he had intended it to. Besides, she knew from the newspapers that he had problems enough of his own. Foster had been rightly sceptical as to how she had fallen, and it had only taken one word from him to give Harry and her family the excuse that they needed to pursue him. Draco had ended up spending the greater part of the weekend at Auror headquarters being questioned. It had taken Ginny several frustrating and – quite frankly – embarrassing conversations to convince everyone that it had indeed been an accident. The Aurors had been to the cottage, after all. They could not have missed the rumpled bed.

That had not stopped the gossip rags from speculating about precisely what had gone on. Neither of them had particularly come out of the mess with glowing reputations. More than one reporter had enjoyed rehashing his past, and hers. They had even reprinted some of the more intrusive photographs of her previous injuries. Ginny had long since grown tired of accidentally catching sight of pictures of her bone popping out of her leg as she struggled to stay conscious.

If they had confined their interest to such articles Ginny would have been irritated but, at the same time, relieved. Unfortunately, they had not. In the space of a few sentences, she had been reduced from a successful, independent woman to Harry Potter’s ex-girlfriend, and from there things had only become worse still. The tabloids had fallen like hungry dragons on the idea that she could be having an affair with Draco. The fact that he was dating their current favourite starlet and the star of Ginny’s radio show had only made the story even tastier. Or that he had been dating her. Miranda had made short work of breaking up with Draco once the stories had started to leach out. Ginny had never realised what a talent the actress had for manipulating the press.

By the time that she was through, Ginny had come out of it sounding like a determined seductress. Draco had faired only slightly better.

On more than one occasion, Ginny had allowed herself to toy with the idea that it was for that reason, and that reason alone, that he had stayed away while she was convalescing. That, she knew, had been a foolish thing to do.

They left the hospital and walked to a small, nearby café in silence. Winter had well and truly descended on London, leaving the skies grey and overcast. There had even been a brief fall of snow earlier that day. Draco had asked her if she would have lunch with him; Ginny had agreed despite the flurry of reservations that had come to mind. She wanted to know what had finally brought him scurrying out from whatever stone he had been hiding under.

As they had moved down the street Ginny had sensed Draco glancing towards the cane that she had purposefully pulled from her bag. At the conflicted, almost pained look on his face she had been unable to suppress an admittedly petty feeling of triumph. She wanted him to feel guilty.

That would make two of them.

They drew some curious looks when they first entered the café. Ginny glared at one particularly obvious offender until she looked away. Then she settled into the chair opposite the one that Draco had taken, glad to be off her feet. He had chosen a table towards the back of the café, half hidden by a flourishing potted palm that had tinsel draped over it. Christmas was fast approaching. Most importantly, though, they were seated well away from the windows. Ginny decided that she was not the only one who wanted to avoid being noticed.

She sipped the coffee that he had bought her, watching him over the rim of the mug as she did so. The liquid was dark and rich. It set Ginny’s stomach to rumbling far more than the thought of the sandwich she had ordered at the counter.

At first Draco appeared reluctant to speak. He did not look away from her though, as he might have done. Instead, he steadily returned her gaze. It was almost as if he was challenging himself to do so. Then he gave a short, tired-sounding laugh. Leaning his head back, he looked heavenward, and said, “I suspect that this is going to be the most awkward conversation that I ever have in my entire life.”

Ginny remained silent. She did not think that she could contradict him. Not while she suspected the same thing, anyway.

“Thank you for not hexing me.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she replied swiftly, earning herself an amused look.

“And thank you for not letting Potter cart me off to Azkaban.”

“You’re lucky I was in a good mood that day.”

“Somehow I doubt that, so thank you again.”

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. “I didn’t do it for you.”

This time the look he gave her was a sceptical one.

“You know, I think you just apologised more in the last minute than you have in your entire life,” she said, irritated that she had been read quite so easily. It was an unnerving habit of his.

“Probably,” he admitted. “It doesn’t mean that I’m not being sincere though.”

“Try to say that without looking like you’re about to choke and maybe I’ll believe you.”

Draco sighed and leaned back, stretching out his legs under the table. They brushed against Ginny’s – whether inadvertently or not – and she felt a shiver go through her at the unexpected contact. That, too, left her feeling irritated.

“If you think I’m going to make things easy on you then you’re mistaken.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“And stop that – stop agreeing with everything I say. It’s bloody irritating.”

“No doubt.”

Ginny opened her mouth to snap at him and then slammed it shut again. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, breathing deeply while telling herself that getting angry was pointless.

“How did you know where I was going to be today?” she asked finally. When he did not reply, she added, “Come on - it’s a simple enough question.”

He raised one blond eyebrow. “Things are never simple where you are concerned,” he replied cryptically. “That much is becoming increasingly, unerringly apparent.”

Ginny set down her coffee. “Malfoy, do you actually want me to hex you? Just let me know if you do and I’ll be glad to do it. I don’t even think I would get into that much trouble.”

“I’m not trying to be evasive. It’s just not very easy to explain.” His lips twitched. “Fear not, Ginny. I’ve not been stalking you – or paying anyone to follow you. I’ll admit to keeping an eye on you…”

“Oh really?” she asked, unable to keep the disbelief out of her voice.

“Well, I had to do it from a distance. Your family is disgustingly protective.”

Ginny frowned. “Not lying to me would be an excellent way of starting to regain my trust.”

“They didn’t tell you that I called?” He snorted. “I suppose that I shouldn’t be surprised. Potter was less than cooperative…”

“Harry?” she asked. “What does he have to do with anything?”

Draco’s lip curled. “Nothing except for the fact that he made it abundantly apparent that I was not to step within ten miles of you. I’m taking quite a risk right now.”

It took all Ginny’s willpower not to wince. Ever since the accident, Harry had been unusually present in her life. He had visited everyday while she was recuperating at The Burrow – often with a mournful look on his face. In the space of a few hours, he had regressed to a state of self blame so wholly like the one after she had been injured playing Quidditch that Ginny had occasionally wondered whether any time had passed at all. His reaction to the stories in the newspapers had been fierce and almost frightening. In fact, in her opinion, Draco should count himself lucky that he was still standing.

Of course, Draco did not need to know that.

“Then shouldn’t you hurry up?”

For a moment he just continued to look at her, his gaze heavy. Then he leaned over and reached into the pocket of the long dark woollen coat that he had removed on sitting down. From it he took a small packet wrapped in brown paper that he placed on the table between them. Ginny stared at it with undisguised interest. Wordlessly, he pushed it towards her with the tips of his fingers.

She raised a questioning eyebrow and then her mouth dropped open as he casually placed the Time Turner down on top of it.

Ginny snatched it up, hiding it in the palm of her hand while hissing, “What are you doing? Are you an idiot?” She looked around to check that no one has spotted what he had passed her.

“Let me ask you something,” he said, seemingly ignoring her. Gesturing to her tightly closed fist, he continued, “If you could use that to change one thing what would it be?”

She smirked. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

Draco shot her a half smile. “Don’t be so hasty. I know what I would do. I know precisely what I would do. Don’t look so surprised.”

“I’m not,” Ginny protested. “I knew that you were up to something all along. I just couldn’t figure out what you were up to. When we…” she hesitated, feeling heat rush to her cheeks. She could not pretend that what had happened between them had ever ventured far from her mind. But thinking about it was one thing, talking about it was another. The silence grew longer as she tried to force the words from where they had stuck in her throat under his watchful eyes. He was actually going to make her say them as well.

She glared at him. “I started to think that I might have been wrong. You were decidedly… un-Malfoy-like.”

His eyebrows rose. “How so?”

“Well, for one thing you didn’t take advantage of me while I was being weak. Or at least I didn’t think that was what you were doing. Obviously I know differently now.”

He shook his head quickly. “It wasn’t like that.”

“If it wasn’t like that then what was that performance in the sitting room about? Are you honestly telling me that you weren’t trying to get into my knickers so that I wouldn’t notice what you were up to? If you are, then I’ve got to say that I really don’t believe you. Admit it - you decided that the best way to distract me was to get me in bed.”

“That wasn’t why I slept with you,” he ground out. Reaching across the table and covered her hand with his. The Time Turner felt hot inside their twin fists. Ginny tried to pull back, shocked by the severity of the look on his face. Draco’s grip remained firm however. “You never asked me what I’d change.”

Ginny blinked, thrown by the sudden change in subject. “What?”

“Ask me,” he insisted.

She hesitated briefly before doing so. “Okay – what would you change?”

“Us.”

Shaking her head in response, Ginny said, “I don’t understand.”

“About this time three years ago, while I was still living in New York, a series of letters started being delivered to me. They were all from different locations, written on different paper, and dated oddly. They were, however, in two distinctly familiar hands.”

Ginny’s breath caught in her throat. Knowing what he wanted from her, she asked, “Whose?”

Draco’s lips curled up at one side, his expression suddenly tinged with amusement. “Yours, Ginny.”

“You’re mistaken,” she said, adding triumphantly, “I’ve never written to you. I certainly wasn’t writing to you three years ago.”

His smile did not falter. “I know. Be patient. At first I thought that you had gone crackers. The letters were bizarre and more often than not confusing as well. They were filled with anecdotes of things that had never happened – that would never happen in a sane world. Then the other letters started arriving and I thought that I was the one who had gone mad.”

“You were writing to yourself?” Ginny guessed.

With a nod, he said, “Of course I didn’t remember doing it – and the things that were written were fantastical. I performed every spell I could think of to figure out who was really writing them, but the result was always the same. We wrote those letters. Or rather we will write them.”

Ginny frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense,” she said, and then stopped. Her eyes widened and her fingers flexed. “The Time Turner – you use it.”

“I might be the one who uses it,” he confirmed. “Or you could, I suppose. Either way, one of us goes back to make sure that I get those letters.”

The doubt she felt was obvious when she next spoke. “Say that you’re right - it doesn’t seem like it would be worth the risk. Changing the past is likely to get you thrown into Azkaban.”

“It’s no more illegal than what my father probably had in mind when he sent me to the cottage to retrieve the Time Turner. Apparently Edwina was crazy enough to dangle the fact that she had one in front of his face a few times over the years. They really did not like each other. He doesn’t know that I have it yet, by the way. I didn’t tell him that I found it.”

“Is that why he’s contesting the will?” Ginny asked. Only a few days after her accident, Foster had turned up with the news that Lucius Malfoy had decided that he was going to challenge the legality of Edwina’s will. “He knows that I’d never let you back into the cottage without someone there to watch you every step of the way.”

Draco winced. “Yes. Well, that and the fact that I may have mentioned a few of the other things that I spotted. I had to. He was questioning me endlessly about what had happened between us. As far as he knows, you had your accident before I could thoroughly search the cottage.”

Lowering her eyes, Ginny thought over what he had said. “This still doesn’t make much sense. Why would you want to send a bunch of letters to yourself?”

“Because of what’s in them, of course. They’re the reason that I decided to move back to England. I was happy where I was – I don’t want to give you the impression otherwise. There was something missing, though. It wasn’t until the letters started to arrive that I even realised that. To begin with I did not want to take them seriously – even when I had accepted them for what they were. You can stop glaring at me now, if you’d like.”

“I wish you would get to the point,” Ginny told him impatiently. “What was so important about some letters?”

For a moment he once again seemed reluctant to talk. When he did, the words came out uncharacteristically uncertain. “They’re important because they are about you and me.” He pointed to the packet on the table. “You can see for yourself. Just don’t let Potter get his hands on them. He’s not only a prat but a bit of a terrier as well.”

She reached out and picked up the package. It was surprisingly weighty.

Draco stood, surprising her in the process. She had been staring intently at the package, wondering whether she could trust him. It might contain anything. Now she jerked her eyes up towards him.

“I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy lunch, Ginny.”

“Wait,” she said as he turned to leave.

He shook his head. “I can’t. I’ve got a meeting to get to. Send me an owl when you’re done reading and we’ll talk about it.”

He was halfway to the door before Ginny decided to act. Climbing to her feet, she hurried after him, catching her thigh on the back of someone’s chair as she did. She hissed as pain blossomed out from the spot and quickly put a hand out to stop herself from falling. The woman seated on the chair gave her a rather affronted look, but Ginny barely noticed. She was much too concerned with catching up with Draco.

“Malfoy,” she called as she reached the door. He was already on the street, walking away from her with irritatingly long strides. “Draco, wait!”

Her hand twitched towards her wand as she hurried to follow him. The git knew that she would not be able to keep up. Her leg was screaming, whether from where she had just hit it or from her previous injury she did not know.

“Stop right there or I swear I’ll throw those letters in the nearest bin!” she shouted after him.

That did it. Draco stopped and turned to look at her, his expression slightly incredulous. He rolled his eyes skywards and then walked back down the street towards her, his coat flaring around him.

“You’re attracting quite an audience.”

The redhead looked around and winced as she realised that he was right. They were being watched carefully by a couple on the other side of the street, and a group further along it. She drew her shoulders back, determined to appear confident. “I don’t care. You can’t walk away from me like that.”

He sighed, his breath clouding in the cold December air between them. “You’re not going to believe anything that I tell you now. You don’t want to believe it. You’d rather that I was some monster out to get you when that is the furthest thing from the truth.”

Ginny pursed her lips, uncomfortably aware of how close to the truth he was. “You can’t expect me to just take you at your word. What did you mean when you said that they’re about us?”

“You didn’t understand?” He looked genuinely surprised. Stepping nearer to her, he said, “I suppose I just naturally assumed that you would do, considering what you told me about how you felt.”

“That is in the past.”

“Not so much so, I think,” he replied, obviously amused. “Will you just read the letters? They explain things better than I could anyway.”

Ginny grabbed his arm as he tried to move away. “Don’t you want the Time Turner back?”

“Later.”

“There probably won’t be a later. We’re not exactly going to start having regular lunch dates.”

“You’re always so determined about everything,” he said, still smiling. “I think it’s one of the things that I like best about you. It can be utterly infuriating, and yet at the same time it can be so much fun convincing you that you’re wrong.”

The fabric of his coat folded around her fingers as he turned towards her fully, standing so close that Ginny felt a desire to take a step back. Before she could, however, he had curled an arm around her middle. The kiss that he pressed against her mouth was hard and insistent, and seemingly inevitable. Ginny was caught between wanting to bite down on his lip and dragging him closer. She could hardly see through her confusion when he pulled back.

“I have done many things in life that I regret. Most of which you are no doubt fully acquainted with. The thing that I regret the most, though, is the fact that once again I seem to have completely messed things up between us.”

“Again?” she asked, her voice straining to be above a whisper.

“Again. You’ll come back to me though. I know you will.” Draco leaned closer, his mouth hovering over hers. When he spoke, there was a knowing tone to this voice that sent a shiver up her spine. “We’ve tried every way we can, you and me, Ginny. Each time something slightly different changes, and each time we end up just a little bit closer. You’ll be amazed by some of the stories.”

Ginny could not suppress the sceptical look that threatened to sweep over her features. The packet of letters nestling in her pocket suddenly seemed far heavier than they should have done. “This is crazy,” she told him. “You’ll be telling me next that all my future happiness hangs on this.”

From Draco’s knowing smirk, Ginny knew she had guessed correctly.

---

THE END

---

Closing Notes: I suppose the first thing that I want to say is thank you for all the lovely feedback. I haven't had time to reply to it (which I will explain in a moment), but it has been very lovely. Some of the compliments about the opening chapter particularly have been especially lovely.

This story was written for a Draco/Ginny exchange on livejournal. I don't know how many of you are familiar with the concept, so you'll have to forgive me if I'm describing something that you already know, but an exchange is were fan writers and artists get together and produce work for each other, in this case anonymously. As a consequence, there is a deadline involved, which at least partly explains the way that this story turned out. I wanted – and still want to – take it further, but I simply did not have the time to. I suppose saying that makes it pretty obvious that I am planning to write more in this 'verse. Whether I write an epilogue, sequel, or prequel is still up in the air – I have ideas for all three. I might actually end up writing all three, if I find the time.

Time is the key. Real life is killing me at the moment, and I've come to the realisation that I have to prioritise. I know I say that a lot, but this time I really mean it. If I don't, I could end up without a job. Fandom (I write for a lot of different fandoms, and I don't post everything here) tends to suck me in. So I've decided that it's time to take a hiatus – my first one in nearly ten years. As a consequence, the epilogue/prequel/sequel is going to be a little delayed – as will updates on my other stories. I could take up to a month out, just so that I can clear the backlog of things that I need to do in RL. I hope you can all understand that.

Finally, this fic comes with story recommendation. As I'm sure some of you are aware, it has a passing resemblance to a novel called The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. I didn't consciously base this fic on that book – and in my head the two are quite dissimilar, but when my beta pointed out that there was common ground I couldn't help but notice it as well. So that's my rec. If you find the time, read Audrey Niffenegger's book. It's wonderful, and heartbreaking, and I stayed up until five o'clock reading it the first time I picked it up.