Disclaimer: If you recognize it it is not mine. Therefore meaning: I do not own Harry Potter or anything to do with said story. The plot of this one-shot is all mine, my own, my precious. The characters and magical world are not mine.

So, this sort of spurred in my brain a while ago. I am such a Drinny shipper. I started hating Harry in the fifth book since he's such a whiny little prick and I'm a sucker for the Romeo/Juliet-esqueness of Draco and Ginny. So this is what happened. :D I probably won't continue this, but I might muck around a little and rewrite it and make it into an actual novella. The only problem is, I'm going to basic training in less than three weeks so I won't have any time to write for a very long time. Haha. But, I found this on my computer, read it, and thought I'd share. So, enjoy!

Draco Malfoy had surprised everyone during the final battle at Hogwarts. Publicly denouncing Voldemort, he strolled over to the side of one Harry James Potter and fought hard against the remainder of the Death Eaters. Kingsley, it was said, had employed him as a spy after Snape was no longer able to perform his duties.

The Malfoy heir turned many things around after the war. He funded the rebuilding of Hogwarts and went to Auror School and graduated at the top three of the class, right along with two of his most disliked peers. He later became quite close with the people he had once thought of as enemies after a near death experience when he saved Hermione Granger's life from a blatant attack from his, now deceased, father. He was herald as a dark savoir and Granger, Potter, and the Weasley family had come to except him as a good friend.

All except one Weasley.

Ginevra Molly Weasley had seen the war, had experienced the war, and mourned the war greatly. She had lost too many people she had grown close to and when Harry was brought forth from the Forbidden Forest, seemingly dead, she fled the grounds of Hogwarts. Some would call her a coward, but she couldn't bear to live in such a cruel world any longer.

No one had seen hide or hair of the girl since then. Many believed she was dead, but her family still hoped she was alive. Harry Potter had moved on, marrying an American Auror named Elizabeth, while Ron and Hermione had married shortly after Draco saved the latter's life. Draco, however, remained quite unattached. He settled into his work as an Auror, rarely giving any women a second glance. He was, they say, far more devoted to capturing the remaining few Death Eaters than Harry had been at killing Voldemort.

His devotion was what had landed him in his current situation, he mused as he hid behind a large shrub. He was incognito, waiting for the head of the disgraced Parkinson family to walk out of the shabby muggle building he watched. Odds were the man wouldn't go down without a fight. He'd have to modify some muggle memories, but he didn't expect it to be too hard. The old man had done a decent job at hiding himself from the Aurors hot on his tale. Yet, he had seemed to prove less difficult to find than the youngest Weasley. She was still missing.

He wouldn't classify her as dead, not for the world would he. It wasn't because he cared about her, but because he cared about her family. Rare as it was for him, Draco Abraxas Malfoy, to admit that, he did care about the Weasleys. Even Potter, now, had managed to gain some amount of respect from him.

So, as Draco sat waiting, he was shocked to see the redhead he'd spent the last ten years secretly searching for walk directly in his line of vision. So much surprised was he, he failed to notice Parkinson stroll out of the building and spot him. He failed to see the curse that sent him flying into the wall mere feet in front of the redhead.

Ginevra Weasley, under the alias Molly Bennett, was quite shocked to see the blonde haired man flying into the wall of the building in front of her. Horror rose in her and she rushed forward, allowing her life's career path to kick in immediately.

She checked his pulse immediately and relaxed slightly before checking his breathing, which was shallow. She somehow knew, without an x-ray, that the man had a few broken ribs. It was a sixth sense for the woman to know how to treat her patients without testing. Some said she was bonkers, others claimed it was magic, but the woman paid no attention to any of it. She merely claimed that she had some super intuition involving the injured and sick.

"Sir? Sir?" She called, trying to rouse him from consciousness before pulling out her mobile and calling for an ambulance. "This is Doctor Molly Bennett. I have an unconscious man here. I need an ambulance right away."

She rambled off the location and the statistics to the dispatch and it wasn't long before they were on their way to the nearest hospital. With a sad sigh, the woman noted that her plans for her day off were thwarted. She would have to purchase flowers later before visiting the empty little grave she had made in remembrance of the people she had lost in a war the people she cared for now did not know of.

She observed the man lying peacefully on the bed before her. They had stabilized him, although it was touch and go for a while as one of his broken ribs punctured his lung, which collapsed. As soon as they had managed to rectify that, it seemed like something else was going wrong. He had been in surgery for a long ten hours, which she spent observing the procedure and doing everything she could to force herself from rushing into the OR. She was not a surgeon. She was merely a doctor who could, under duress, perform such operations. But, again, she was not a surgeon and the operations were quite far from her scope of practice.

She was relieved when Doctor Grey walked out of surgery with a kind smile on his lips and a look of satisfaction on his face. She knew that look very well as he frequently held it after a successful operation on her patients.

"Doctor Bennett, the patient has been stabilized," He had told her and she very nearly kissed him.

She wanted the patient healed and out of this hospital as soon as possible. Not because she wanted him well, although she did want him well, but because she knew him. Well, she knew of him and the fact he, too, knew of her. Which was enough to ruin everything that she had gone through for the last ten years.

But… at the same time…

No. She shook her head as she looked at him through hardened brown eyes. She would not go back. No one could make her go back. So when her nurse walked into the room with a curious look on her face, she schooled her features into indifference.

"Mol, I know you better than that," The nurse said, pushing dark spirals out of her face.

"I do not know what you speak of, Candie," She replied, faking innocence.

"You like him, don't you?" The woman said, wiggling her eyebrows.

The pale woman snorted at her dark skinned friend, "He's my patient."

"Then why are you looking at him like that?"

Hesitantly, she admitted, "Because I went to school with him."

Candie paused in her routine and looked at her employer, "You… went to school with him?"

She waved her hand, "Not med school, high school."

The girl was notably surprised at the mention of the Doctor's past. She rarely spoke of anything from her past. Just that the love of her life died and she couldn't bear to see the looks of pity she would receive from her family. Try as Candace had, she still had yet to convince her best friend to go back to see her family. The girl could whizz through her degrees and become a doctor at the young age of twenty four.

"You know, he is rather good looking," Candie said, testing the water and the redhead scowled.

"Candie, please. Just let me pretend I don't know him. He'd probably try to take me home with him."

While she was incognito as a muggle Doctor, the redhead still received the Daily Prophet and was quite up to date on the news of the wizarding world. Six months after she had run, she noticed that things were improving. No longer were there randomized 'terrorist' attacks as the muggles claimed them to be and a sense of peace had her picking up the Prophet and reading it. To her surprise it showed that the wizarding world was in celebration.

Draco Malfoy had saved Hermione Granger's life – and captured his Death Eater father. It also stated that Harry Potter had personally thanked the man. Below that article was one announcing the successful wedding of Hermione and Ron Weasley, with a little background on both. What surprised her most was the very last paragraphs.

While it is universally acknowledged that the newlyweds are renowned heroes, none can deny that they both have suffered personal tragedies. The new Mrs. Weasley lost her parents in the war with Voldemort, who Harry Potter successfully destroyed last year, while the entire Weasley Clan lost one of their own. Ginevra Weasley, one of three students who singlehandedly led the student organization called Dumbledore's Army (started by Potter in 1995), was also lost last year. She was rewarded for her valiant efforts with the Order of Merlin first class along with Potter, Weasley, and the new Mrs. Weasley.

The happy event was not daunted by the lack of Miss Weasley, although the absence was noted when the entire Weasley Clan, Mister Potter, and Draco Malfoy asked for a moment of silence for the deceased Miss Weasley. Mister Potter's toast was eloquent and featured a short, emotion filled tribute to the late Ginevra Weasley as follows:

I know that Ginny is here with us, in spirit, and she would be telling us all not to dwell on her, but to celebrate her best friend and her brother being united. Today, the Weasley family officially regains a female Weasley, although no one can replace Ginny.

Ginny had tossed the Prophet aside and decided that since she was dead to her family, she would never return. Later, when Harry married that American – Elizabeth – she cried and swore, again, to never go back. Yet, she still read the Prophet, soaking in the events of the world she was no longer a part of. The only snippets she really cared for were of the mysterious workaholic currently lying in room 23 on the fourth floor of her hospital.

While Harry Potter had lived through the downfall of Voldemort and was herald as the hero of the Wizarding world, Draco was the true superhero of it. He threw his abundance of darkly earned money to rebuilding the Wizarding World and, to top it all off with; he was responsible for more than half of the Death Eaters in Azkaban being there. And he saved Hermione Granger's life.

They were something of the Golden Quartet, now. Something, Ginny though with irritation and envy, which she had never and would never be a part of.

"Candie, please alert me when he wakes," Ginny said softly before walking out of the room, unaware that the man was slowly coming into consciousness.

Strange… He thought, resisting the urge to groan and alert anyone in the room with him that he was awake. That sounded vaguely like Ginevra.

His memories slowly returned as his mind came into a sharper focus. He'd been on a stakeout when he'd seen her – Ginny Weasley. He'd been caught completely off guard and ended up being spotted by his quarry and ended up flying through the air. His head pounded and his ribs ached with a fury of hell.

"Oh, Molly," He heard a female voice sigh, "If only you would face your past. You could be living happily with your family once again. You are quite the silly woman." A feminine chuckle was issued here. "I wish I could tell you I was really a squib and I know exactly who you are." The woman bustled about and sighed. "Just as I know exactly who it is laying on this table. I wonder if I should send a message to Mr. Potter."

Draco opened his eyes and slowly, almost painfully said, "Don't."

The woman jumped nearly a foot into the air before sharply glaring at him.

"I would like to live to age thirty, Mister Malfoy," She snapped before a look of relief washed over her head, "And do be careful. Your ribs are seriously injured."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Not for long. Where are my belongings?"

Suspiciously the black woman regarded him before pointing to the far bedside table. Draco reached for his clothes, nearly grimacing in pain as he moved. Once his wand was in hand, he placed the tip of it on his left side and began muttering a few spells. He repeated them on the other side and relief filled his eyes.

"Merlin's bleeding knickers," He muttered before looking at his nurse, "I supposed you should call in the doctor. I've made a miraculous recovery."

Ginny was drinking her tea when a very frazzled Candace walked into the break room. She sighed before placing her cup on the table and standing.

"I told you he was a bastard," She muttered before heading off to Draco's room where he sat, dressed in his clothes and whistling a tune she had never heard before.

"What are you doing out of your gown?" She asked, fiercely, "You should be resting."

Draco snorted, "Let's cut to the chase, Weasley."

Ginny paled, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Obviously you do, or you would be looking me in the eye, Ginevra." Draco drawled.

"Malfoy, you can just fuck off," She snapped.

A grin slid onto his face, "Tut, tut. You shouldn't speak to your patients so, Doctor."

Growling, Ginny folded her arms, "What do you want?"

"Come back to the Burrow with me," He said simply and she shook her head.

"No," She replied and turned to leave the room, "And I'd appreciate it if you'd just leave me be. Run off and tattle on me to my family. Go ahead. I don't care." She left the words on the tip of her tongue from her speech. They don't care.

"They wish you'd come home," Draco said softly and she snorted.

"You're healthy as a horse, Malfoy. Get out of my hospital and let me never see you again."

She walked out of the room, heels clicking against the floor as she left the bewildered blonde staring at her retreating form. Draco decided at that moment as he watched her sashaying hips sway away from his line of vision that he would not give up. He hadn't given up hope on finding her after all of these years. He wouldn't stop now.

Many people would ask why Draco Malfoy preferred going to the Emergency room of West Side General instead of St. Mungos. Why would he, an auror, prefer to be healed the muggle way versus the magical way? He only ever smiled at them and told him that it was to teach him a lesson for getting hurt. Ron suspected he fancied someone and Harry wasn't sure what it was exactly. Only one person knew of his increasing fancy for his doctor, who was his newest assignment. Hermione had figured it out after Draco came to supper at the Burrow sporting seven stitches in his forehead.

"Draco, why do you have those in your forehead?" Ron pointed at the thing in question.

Harry snorted, "Draco, mate, didn't you know you're supposed to stitch the fabric, not your face? You great pouf."

Draco shot him a dirty look, "If you must know I was in a muggle emergency room."

Hermione tipped her head, curiously, "And why were you there?"

Draco hesitated before admitting, "I got smacked in the face with a revolving muggle door."

Surprise caused her eyebrows to shoot up as the two men guffawed with laughter. They collapsed on each other, snorting and howling at his admission while Hermione and Eliza exchanged looks. The auburn haired American slapped them both upside the head and proceeded to scold them while Hermione politely pressed the pureblood blonde for more information.

"Why?" She asked.

"Does it matter?" Draco sneered before muttering quietly to her, "I was talking to someone and she decided I was a git and shoved the door so hard I got hit in the face."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "And why the stitches?"

Draco turned pink slightly as he said, "She's a – a muggle doctor. She insisted that she stitch it up."

Actually, Draco had insist she stitch it up. He'd left his wand at home, planning on not taking it when he went to pester Ginny about coming home – again – and she got pissed at him and shoved the revolving door hard enough it knocked him on his ass before slamming into his face. She'd laughed uproariously as she checked on him. His head bled like stunk and, as neither Draco nor Ginny had a wand, he insisted she fix it nicely.

Under her breath, Hermione said, "You like her, don't you? About time you found a girl. She's a muggle?"

Draco groaned before saying, "Sort of – she's… she's a witch, but she doesn't use magic. She hates it. Mostly because… she doesn't really remember being a witch."

Hermione pursed her lips but didn't pry any farther. Draco wouldn't tell them anything more unless he really wanted to. Which he obviously didn't.

Ginny was hardly surprised when she saw his name in her schedule for that day. What she was surprised was that he was sitting in the E.R. patient room when she walked in, stitches still in place on his forehead, but his arm was cradled to his chest.

"Draco. What a surprise," She said sarcastically before motioning him to sit on the bed.

Expecting a crude comment that never came, Ginny was again thrown off balance. She looked him over and noticed a split lip, a black eye, and that arm he was babying.

"What happened?" She asked, concern lacing her voice.

She had grown somewhat affectionate of the man sitting in her E.R. over the course of the last six weeks. He had visited her several times a week with a new injury and never failed to ask her to come back to the Burrow with him.

He snorted, "Probably a good thing you always refuse to come back with me."

"What?" She asked, caught off guard as she inspected his eye carefully.

"I got into it with your brother," He replied softly as she pulled away in surprise.


"Actually, Charlie," Draco replied with a derisive snort, "Dragon tamer indeed."

She stifled a laugh at the obvious pun before pressing on, "What happened?"

"I asked him what he would do if you were still alive and living like a muggle," Draco replied quietly, "Just to see if I was doing the right thing, you know. Trying to bug you back into it."

Ginny froze and swallowed thickly.

"He told me to stop fucking with him and quit talking about you. You'd never leave them. He said." Draco closed his eyes, wincing at the pain, "I told him I was perfectly serious and the next thing I know, I'm sprawled in the dirt with a pounding headache and one very sore eye."

"Oh, God, Draco," She whispered, a hand flying to her mouth.

"Ron, thank Merlin he matches Charlie for brawn, saved my ass and told Charlie off. Charlie told him what I'd said and Ron punched him. Do you know what Ron screamed at Charlie?" Draco paused for emphasis, locking eyes with her as he told her, "He said, 'we'd welcome her back home with open arms, you git. What else would we do? Charlie, you're not the only one affected by her absence so stop acting like a git!' Ginny, why won't you come back?"

Her hands shook as she spoke calmly, "I want you to leave, Mister Malfoy. And don't ever come back."

She calmly walked out of the room, the only indication she was anything but calm was the slight tremor of her clenched fists.

He had no bloody right prying into her business the way he was. She didn't want to go back. She couldn't bring herself to. But... she missed her family.

Damn him. Damn him to hell! She thought angrily as she stormed away.

Two weeks went by without Ginny seeing hide nor hair of Draco Malfoy. Two weeks she spent miserably. She hadn't realized how much she had grown to like him. Sure, he bothered her at first, but he eventually became a regular part of her life. He told her of her family, of their family dinners, and of how they missed her. She fought against her desire to go back home and the desire to keep her life she had in the Muggle world.

So, Ginny donned on her Sunday's best and pulled her wand from the lock box hidden beneath the fourth floorboard from her bedroom door. She squared her shoulders before disapparating to a point far enough from her childhood home she could still run should she back out of her current mind thought.

The things she did for love.

She froze.

Where did that come from? She wondered.

Did she really love Draco?

He was snarky and arrogant. Vain and proud. But he was charming and polite. He was very gentlemanly towards her. And he had been so wonderful to both her and her family. Not to mention the strange sensation in her chest when she thought of him and the smile that tugged to her lips even when she was irritated with the man.

"God above," She whispered, "I do."

She squared her shoulders and called forth all of the Gryffindor bravery she had once held – and still held firmly in her heart – before marching across the distance from the small forest and her family home. There was a large table in the backward with more seats than Ginny could count along with a small table with several chairs around it.

She spotted his head of blonde hair as he set the last of the dishes on the table. He looked up, out of habit mostly, and froze when he saw the beautiful redhead he had grown to have affection for in the last eight weeks, the last two of which had put him through the ringer to stay away. It showed, the amount of stress and depression, on his features.

She frowned as she neared him; the man met her strides perfectly until the met just before the garden wall. She lifted a hand to his stubbly cheek. Brows furrowing, she searched his features as he gently, almost unnoticeably, leaned into her hand.

"You haven't been sleeping," She murmured and he snorted derisively.

"You shouldn't be talking, woman," He replied although concern dulled the sharp tone he used.

She smiled faintly, "I'm sorry. I – I've missed you."

"Is that why you're here?" he asked softly, reaching up to clasp the hand that was now dropping from his face.

She smiled faintly before answering, "Yes. These last two weeks have been a torture, Draco – I've fallen in love with you and your pestering and your irritating face. I – Merlin's beard!"

Draco grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him. He leaned down and pressed his lips firmly to hers, effectively shutting her up as well as surprising the woman greatly. He pulled away quickly, a faint red tinge rising on his ears.

"I'm sorry – I shouldn't have – Merlin's beard."

She cut him off by pressing her lips to his and wrapping her arms around his neck. Draco wrapped her into his arms slowly trailing his hands around her waist as he did so. She pulled back and looked up into his eyes, resting back down on the flat of her feet. Leaning down, Draco rested his forehead on hers and smiled at her.

"Draco!" Hermione's voice shouted from the back door, "Come get the roast, would you?"

He lifted his head and shouted over his shoulder,"You might want to hold off on that. Make sure all of the food is securely on some surface," he turned back to her, "Gin? Can I take you on a date? Tomorrow? Six o'clock?"

A grin graced her lips, "Of course you can. So, how are you going to introduce me to my family?"

"Well, I was thinking something along the lines of 'Molly Bennett', but I think I could make arrangements to introduce you as 'the love of my life' or perhaps even 'your long lost Weaselette'," He grunted as she punched his shoulder hard, "Alright. I'll settle on Ginny, but I'd like to claim you as mine, if you'd let me."

A beautiful smile blossomed on her face as she said, "I would love that, I think."

As Draco pulled away and offered her his arm, she took a moment to reflect on her situation before shaking her head.

"Thank you."

"Anytime," He said, kissing the top of her head lightly.

As they neared the kitchen doorway, Draco called out, "Molly? Hermione? Eliza? Have you secured the dinner? You ought to gather everyone in the living room before I come in. I have someone I'd like you to meet."

Ginny smiled up at Draco, who looked down at her with amusement written on his face. She bit back a nervous laugh and let the man she wanted to be with forever lead her into the house.