AN- Set after all the books, partial AU
Disclaimer- I own nothing except the plot.

~Remembering Her~

Draco sat in his favorite black high-back chair in front of the roaring fireplace. He sighed and settled back into a comfortable position, having just re-lit the fire for the third time; indicating that he had been there for quite a few hours. He ran a hand through his silver blond hair as he twirled his wand absent mindedly in his other hand. His cool gray eyes stared into the flames as he continued to remember his days married to Delilah, his late wife.

He had not been happy, not at all. And in truth, she had not sexually appealed to him either; though she bore him 5 strong sons. He had merely been a dutiful husband during his forced marriage with the woman by the hands of both their parents the month before his seventh year. He had fought it, but after succumbing to the realization that he could not run away he faced it with a cool indifference and merely as the duty of a Malfoy.

Even during their wedding night he had been unmoving in his contempt and took her without any passion. She had not been a virgin. Hell, neither had he, so he did not feel he had to be romantic or gentle; even if he knew how to be either one.

During the next few years they continued to act indifferent to each other, showing affection only to the children. For ten years they continued this charade; having no feelings toward each other at all but no one seemed to know. Last winter Delilah bore one last son, dying after the final push, having been weakened from the strenuous pregnancy.

Draco stood and sighed. He felt old and tired, not at all like his youthful days of Quidditch, sex and mischief. He had been the pride of the slytherins; the girls all wanted him, and the males wanted to be him. He felt like a god during his school years. Then he was cherished as one of the wizarding world's most promising new auror after the fall of Voldemort during his seventh year. His parents had been killed during the last battle and he had been so full of fury at the loss that he began killing any death eater he came across with his father's wand.

He had saved one of the Weasley's when the side of the castle had been blasted away and had ran towards the battle with confused eyes following him. He wasn't sure why he had done it, maybe to anger Voldemort as much as possible, but he had done it and continued on until he came face to face with her. She had been too stunned by his sudden re-emergence into the battle to act as he raised his wand and killed a deatheater behind her. The look in her eyes after he had saved her was just as good as the passionate kiss she gave him before turning back to the fight. They stayed that way till it was over, back to back and bringing down any who fought them.

Draco walked out of the room, ignoring the pile of letters on the table by the door. Now, a year after the death of his wife, he had become once again "on the market" as it were. He had been sent invitations to many wealthy families' homes to meet their daughters, or come to a party, or a ball, or any excuse to have him enter their home. He frowned and rubbed his aching neck. He was getting much too old for this. He was already trying hard to be a good father (though he loved his own father, he had never really been the best one for the job) and didn't feel like playing these silly little "high society" games. He was bored of it all, they were all the same; just like Delilah.

And the thought of having more children was out of the question! Six sons were enough. He loved them dearly but they knew how to push his buttons and he found it hard to keep them entertained and manage the Malfoy estates and business at the same time. He just couldn't do it on his own!

He had not been paying attention as his feet took him to the North wing of the Manor; his old wing. He had grown up there, like his own house within the manor. But when he married they had moved to the south wing; his bride finding the brighter colors more to her liking.

He had entered a dark room and smirked. Even in the dark he could tell that he now stood in his old study. The one place he could run to without worry because no one could find, nor enter it without his permission. Within these walls he was safe. But it had been years since he sought its refuge, four years to be exact. Two years after the youngest Weasley had been pronounced dead.

Extending his wand he lit the fireplace and felt warmth enter his aching body. The room had not changed, though he took into account the lack of dust and cobwebs (obviously the house elves cleaned it) with a sneer. He did not like that they came here, it made him feel violated. But as he looked at the shelves filled with familiar books he had missed and his own desk in the center that he had spent countless nights working at (and sometimes crashing on) he calmed. It was nice stepping back into the familiar. Though that thought had quickly faded when he noticed the stack of newspapers sprawled across his desk. Though they were still folded neatly; their headlines glaring out against the yellowing parchment.

"Boy Hero Molests Future Bride!"

"The Boy Who Lived…A Rapist?"

"Ginevra Weasley Missing!"

"Potter's Shame."

"Could Hero Be A Murderer?

"No Sign of the Youngest Weasley."

"No Proof! Harry Potter Cleared of Charges!"

"Ginevra Weasley Pronounced Dead After A Three Year Search!"

And then his hand went to the last paper:

"Our Hearts Weep For Such A Loss…"

Ginevra Molly Weasley 23, the youngest of seven children, and only female, of one of the poorest families of the wizarding world, is a loss that no one could have expected during this time of restoration. Though her parentage was less than admirable, Ginevra separated herself from this humble upbringing during the last battle of the war with Lord Voldemort. Ginevra fought at 16 years of age, laying down all deatheaters daring to fight this young girl.

She saved over 12 lives of her fellow students of Hogwarts, diving in to protect them from a fatal hex.

"She pushed me out of the way and all I saw was a flash of green light." Says Neville Longbottom, current Herbology professor at Hogwarts, recounting his time spent with Miss Weasley. "I was so scared that she was dead, I didn't want to look. She was the sweetest and bravest of us all. The most generous and honest person I had ever known." Professor Longbottom wipes the tears away as he continues. "But when I look up she is smiling down at me, like a fiery angel, and tells me to get up before she ran back into the fight. At that moment I looked up to see [Galvin] Goyle laying dead a few feet away. She never stopped, not once."

Later in the evening, she and Draco Malfoy [son of Lucius Malfoy; a famous deatheater] stood back to back in an epic battle against hoards of deatheaters, werewolves, dementors, and even a giant.

After this violent battle, Ginevra did not rest. She assisted the mediwizards in looking after the wounded. She did not care who they were as she helped the few deatheaters residing in the new hospital ward.

"She had a huge heart, and though they had been our enemy Ginny would not turn away any who were wounded and in need." Says a quiet Seamus Finnigan, a former Gryffindor and friend of Ginevra Weasley.

Indeed Ginevra Weasley, Ginny as she was affectionately called, had gone above and beyond at such a young age; even earning herself the title Order of Merlin, 1st Class and a Medal for Magical Merit.

"She put herself into her work more than others," says Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts Headmistress. "She was top student during her sixth year and earned that title. Never had I seen a more gifted witch, so calm and collected as she worked effortlessly as if she loved it. I am proud to have known her and been present through all of this. She was a prodigy and it is a shame to have lost someone so gifted."

So many lives touched by this young woman from Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon. Even I cannot help but shed a tear for this amazing young woman and all she has done for the wizarding world. She will always be missed and never will she be forgotten.

-Rita Skeeter

A 7th year picture of Ginny smiles warmly up at Draco with these words printed below:

Ginevra "Ginny" Molly Weasley

August 11, 1981 – August 11, 2004

"Lost But Not Forgotten."

Draco sat in his old chair and let the paper fall where it had lain since he read it all those years ago.

He had kept up with it all of course. Having been an auror at the time, he had searched hard for her. Wondering if she was ok and if Potter truly killed her. He had been angry when Potter was released but kept as far away from him as possible. He wanted to kill him, to torture him until he either confessed or told Draco where Ginny was. But the last thing his sons needed was their father in Azkaban, he should know.

Draco thought of her. He remembered how he hated her during school, how the mere sight of her made him sick. But that was because he had been raised that way and only saw her as a filthy blood traitor who was no better than the mudbloods she protected. He had been too narrow minded to actually see her. That had changed during his seventh year, she was horrid to him which he understood, but when he had become sick after sitting in the rain for too long, she had taken care of him. She saw him from her dorm room, laying on the soaked ground, and ran out to him. He hadn't known why she did it, she wouldn't let him talk as she put a lightening charm on him and carried him into the castle. He had wanted to ask why she didn't procure a stretcher but it was too warm in her arms for him to really care. She had ran with him up to the hospital ward, but upon finding no Madam Pomfrey she merely took care of him herself.

"Weasley…"

"Shush Malfoy, you need to relax. You have a fever and I need to get it down." She said it so soothingly that he stopped talking. He merely stared at her, shivering as she stripped off his wet clothes. He grabbed her hand when she went to take off his boxers.

"It's alright Malfoy," she said softly, her brown eyes warm as she looked at him. "I will tell no one, and I won't judge. I've grown up with six brothers remember. You won't get a squeal or laugh out of me." She smiled at him and he let go. For some reason, he had trusted her.

She gently pulled off his soaked boxers and dried him off with her wand before pulling up the blankets and tucking him in. She placed a hand on his forehead and he closed his eyes as the softness of her touch sent warm tingles throughout his body. The touch disappeared and he opened his eyes to see her pull the curtains around him. She walked away and he felt like he would cry in his weary state but when she returned he calmed. In her hand was a cup with steam coming from it.

"This will help you to sleep and hopefully help break your fever. I promise I'll put pajamas on you so no one else sees you." He nodded and let her help him drink, loving the feel of her arm beneath his head and the smell of her, like wildflowers and rain.

Suddenly blackness surrounded him and when he woke it was to Snape standing over him with Pomfrey. He looked down to see that he was dressed in a pair of his own silk green pajamas.

He had never asked her how she was able to get his pajamas, but he had been thankful of it. Those horrid hospital garments of Madam Pomfrey's were simply hideous and uncomfortable. She hadn't come back, and though he saw her in the halls and classes, it wasn't until the last battle that he actually was able to speak to her.

Draco ran as fast as he could up the stone steps of the astronomy tower. He wasn't sure who was hexing him but he didn't want to find out, having already been hit once by a stinging hex he knew that whoever it was had been very skilled and quick. When he reached the top he turned to face his challenger.

"Stu-"

"Stupify!" Suddenly he felt something hit him hard in his left shoulder, throwing him back and over the side of the tower. He had reached out but was unable to grab onto anything, and so he fell; a horrible feeling filling him, knowing in that split second that he was going to die.

Suddenly he felt someone grab his ankle and he stopped falling, his 'borrowed' wand falling to the grounds. He looked up to see lush red hair and warm honey brown eyes; Ginevra. She was tired, he could see that, and he knew she had been fighting nonstop since the battle had began a few hours prior. But he also saw a fire behind her eyes, making them shine as she braced herself with her foot and pulled him over the side.

What strength! He had thought to himself as he fell onto the stone floor, leaning against the side as he stared at her. She had taken a moment to rest and looked at him questioningly, as if thinking whether she should finish him off or if he was no longer a threat without his wand. But he was done, he knew he no longer wanted to fight. He had almost died for what?! Something he did not believe in?!

He shook his head at her and held up his hands in defeat.

"I no longer wish to fight."

She smiled, the same smile he had longed to see again since that night she took care of him. "I like that Draco. I really do."

And with that she stood and ran down the steps to the sound of fighting. Damn she was spirited, he had thought as he watched her go, missing that smile on her face.

So when he had been told that Ginevra Weasley had become missing after Harry Potter attempted to rape her at the burrow two months after he became an auror, he began looking for her with a fervor that earned him strange looks from co-workers. He had not given up, even after she had been pronounced dead three years later. He had not stopped and the hunt had cost him his job, though he didn't need it to support himself and his family. He just wanted to see her smile again.

But he failed. Five years after her disappearance he had stopped looking. There was no trace, no trail to follow. She had just vanished. And that night he had come into his study for the last time, hiding from everyone as he sat in the dim firelight and stared at her picture through endless fall of tears.

He had never cried again, until now. He sat, as he did two years ago, and cried. Remembering her, and loving her all over again.

Here's the timeline for my story so you aren't confused:

August 1997: Married to Delilah
1997-1998 : 7th year, last battle
1998 : Graduated from Hogwarts, birth of 1st son, auror training began
1999 : nothing significant happened
2000: 2nd son is born
2001 : Training ended, Ginevra Weasley is missing
2002 : 3rd and 4th sons are born (twins)
2003 : 5th son is born
August 11, 2004 : Ginevra Weasley pronounced dead , Draco keeps looking and loses Auror position
2005 : Nothing significant happened
2006 : Draco ends his search for Ginevra
2007 : Deliliah dies giving birth to their 6th son
2008 : Draco, age 28, finds himself in his study once again grieving for Ginevra

Please review and let me know what you think.