Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N A few notes beforehand: I don't know whether or not I mentioned it in the last chapter – I meant to upload a new version but yes. Anyhow, a reviewer has brought it to my attention that I use a line in my story from the movie Firelight. I actually didn't mean to, so I apologize, and I don't know which line it is so I just wanted to address this issue and let you know that there's a line from that movie. Giving credit where credit is due =D. Also, FFNet was being dumb about using certain symbols so instead of the standard divider I use between paragraphs you get a bunch of equal signs. Sigh. Hope it doesn't detract or anything.

Go thank my beta Priscilla, everyone.

Now onto Gin and Draco…

Chapter 12. The New Dawn

There was a long, heavy silence in Ginny's apartment.

She raised her head after a few moments of this unbearable quiet to see Harry staring at her in great confusion. "That was—" He blinked, as if he couldn't even bring himself to say the words. "That was Malfoy."

Ginny blushed. "Great skills of observation," she muttered.

His stunned gaze swerved from the door to her, and then back again. "You don't mean to tell me that you and Malfoy - that you and Malfoy, erm --" He stopped. "No no, that's not possible."

"What's not possible?" She snapped. "Yes, okay? Me and Malfoy. A few times, thank you. Only not anymore, obviously."

A look a great realization dawned upon his face, followed by denial, and then a flicker of disgust. "Aww Gin," Harry began.

She shook a finger in his face. "Don't start with me, Potter. I have too much on my mind."

"Well I would too if I were shagging..." He didn't seem to be capable of completing that thought. "Never mind."

"Argh," Ginny let out a great sound of agony and sank into the ground slowly. "I've gone and ruined everything, haven't I? I know I have. It's just so typical of me, I just can't do anything right these days."

A look of regret appeared on Harry's face. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Gin. Malfoy's not worth it anyways."

"He is too!" She cried. "I love him. I've never felt for anyone the way I feel for him." She turned to look at him with sorrowful eyes. "And I'm sorry, Harry, I really am. I love you to death, but I just don't love you that way."

"Does that mean," Harry hesitated. "Does that mean you can't marry me?"

She blinked, looked immensely apologetic, and shook her head silently. "I just can't, Harry," Ginny whispered. "It wouldn't be right to my heart."

He gently let her sink into his arms. "You don't know how glad I am to hear you say that," he murmured into her hair.

She pulled back, a small grin spreading on her face. "You don't want to marry me either?"

Harry shook his head morosely.

"At least something's going right today," Ginny laughed, and he laughed along with her.

"Look at how pathetic we are," Harry chuckled softly. "Relieved over the fact that we don't love each other."

"Oh I know," she agreed, smiling honestly for the first time all day. "So what brought this change of heart?"

Looking extremely sheepish, Harry took a seat on the floor beside her. "Franny, actually," he admitted.

"Ooh," Ginny's eyes lit up. "The blonde. I knew you two had something going on."

"Not really," Harry said. "Anymore, at least. She wanted me to visit her in Chicago, and I totally got caught up in the meeting - I missed the time completely. She won't answer my owls right now and I - I think I've really ruined things this time you know?"

Ginny smiled sadly. "I know exactly how you feel, trust me."

Harry got to his feet. "Come on. I know exactly what we need."

====================================================================

"Speak to my fiancée…"

"Fiancée…"

"Fiancée…"

"Bugger," Draco muttered as he stepped inside the main doors of his empty mansion. He glanced around the grand hall, feeling bereft without Ginny's exuberant presence and then berating himself for feeling so. Why should he be surprised? He chided himself. The girl had been following Potter around for ages now.

Except…

"No," Draco said to himself. "No buts."

He shrugged off his robe slowly, a robe which smelled of her apartment – of food, familiarity and of love. "Ronnie," He called out sharply, and the small house elf appeared.

"Yes master?"

He shoved the robe at her. "I want this thrown out."

"But sir," Ronnie spluttered. "This is master's best robe. This is master's favorite robe!"

"It smells," Draco said simply, and stormed past the stunned elf.

She buried her small head in the rich black fabric, and shook it sadly.

He couldn't seem to see straight as he made his way up the grand curving stairs towards his study. "Master?" Ronnie called just as he had reached the top.

"Yes?" Draco turned, irritated.

"What should Ronnie do about that?"

"About what?"

She pointed a knobby finger at the cream colored sweater dangling conspicuously off the banister. Ginny's sweater. Draco's eyes darkened as they fell upon it, and he was seized with a vengeance to tear it to pieces – or, better yet to tear Potter to pieces.

A long, pregnant pause.

"Master?" Ronnie prodded timidly.

"I'll take care of it," Draco snapped, snatching it off glancing down at the soft fabric in his hands with a heavy sigh. He stood in the empty and silent house, silent but for the continuous ticking of the clock.

"Erm, master?" Ronnie asked again, sounding anxious.

"What."

"Is Miss, erm, is Miss Weasley coming back?" She inquired, big eyes wide with dread.

"No," Draco bellowed. He turned upon her with a fierce scowl and she scattered away with robe in hand. Angrily, he whipped the sweater across the hallway, where it landed just a few inches from his bedroom door. "Damn you, Weasley," he muttered under his breath as he trudged to pick it up.

There was so much feeling inside him – anger and frustration and, dare he admit it, hurt – he wasn't sure where to channel it all or how or why he was even feeling them. Feelings were one thing Draco Malfoy had never had any problems dealing with – primarily because he didn't have many. As a child Lucius had ingrained upon him that feeling was weakness, that conscience was weakness, and yet here he was, miserable over a sodding sweater.

Okay, it wasn't just the sweater.

With a heavy sigh Draco turned the soft sweater over in his hands. He could smell the scent of her, the light honeysuckle and lemon which tickled his nose whenever she came close. He could recall the sweater on her, and the way it felt under his hands. He could picture unbuttoning it slowly, and that shy smile on her face as he did, the smile that always graced her features and caused her cheeks to pink in excitement, in embarrassment, in happiness.

He wondered then if she ever smiled that way for Potter. And then he wondered about other things she might do for Potter, which re-ignited all the anger that had just barely died down, and he threw his fist into the door. The slam resonated throughout the wing of the mansion, and Draco shook out his quickly reddening fist with some satisfaction.

I wish that door were Potter.

And then, as he stood cursing Potter and Weasley and Granger just for the heck of it, his hand stinging and his heart doing just about the same, a soft, surprised voice came. "Father?"

He turned, slowly and apprehensively, to see the small boy standing bewildered in his pajamas, and felt a pang of sympathy. "Did I wake you?" He asked, feeling genuinely regretful.

Sebastian roved his eyes over the sweater and the gaping hole in the door, and shook his head. "No, not really. I—" He hesitated.

Draco let the sweater drop onto the ground. "Yes?"

"Where's Miss Weasley?"

"She's not here," He said matter-of-factly. "Miss Weasley isn't coming back."

"Oh." Sebastian directed his golden gaze to the ground, but even Draco could see that he was disappointed. "Ever?"

Draco shook his head, trying his best to suppress the immense guilt washing over him.

There was a moment of hesitation, and Sebastian asked, "Why not?"

Seeing the crushed expression on the little boy's face sent a wave of feeling through Draco he had not ever experienced. He took two swift steps forward, picked him up easily, and swung him around so they were at eye level with one another. "She had to leave," Draco told him gently.

"Why?" Sebastian wanted to know. "Is it because of me?"

Draco patted him awkwardly, but comfortingly. "Of course not," He answered. "She wanted to see you, you know. Miss Weasley cares a great deal about you. But she has her own life—" a slight bitterness tinged his voice now "—with other people."

Sebastian shifted in his arms, his body small and warm. "Will she miss me, Father?"

Draco nodded. "Very much."

He seemed comforted, thoughtfully chewing on his lower lip and looking a little more at ease. "Okay," Sebastian said finally. He thought a little more, and then asked, "Will she miss you?"

Draco shook his head. "That's enough questions for tonight."

Sebastian frowned.

"Come on," Draco said, lightly tickling his tummy to induce a smile. "We're going to put you to bed."

Sebastian giggled. I wish he were my son, Draco found himself thinking suddenly as he pressed a kiss to where temple met downy blond hair. "You're not leaving me too, are you?" Sebastian whispered sleepily into his shoulder as he opened the door to his bedroom.

"Nope," Draco whispered back. "I'm going to be right here."

And he meant it.

====================================================================

Draco awoke to a beautiful day, sun bright and birds chirping. Blinking his eyes, the realization that Ginny was not beside him on this morning hit him mere seconds later. He hadn't noticed how accustomed he'd grown to waking up with her, and disturbing her angelic sleep by raining kisses along her neck.

Stop thinking about her!

He sat up slowly, looking around the room that was decidedly not his. There was a movement to his left, and as he turned his head his whereabouts were explained – he was in Sebastian's room. Thinking quickly, Draco figured that he had fallen asleep on the long chaise beside Sebastian's bed. He rose to his feet slowly, and made his way to the bed. The little boy was still fast asleep, nestled in a swath of green blankets, and Draco found an involuntary smile creeping upon his face.

In the oddest way possible, he was reminded of Ginny again. It was the smile, he realized, tilting his head to better observe the child. In sleep, both Sebastian and Ginny had small half-smiles upon their faces, smiles which hinted of dreams, peace and content. The similarity struck Draco, and furthermore irked him as he couldn't exactly toss out Sebastian as he had his robe and her sweater.

Speaking of…

The sweater still lay across the arm of the chaise, slung casually as to rub in his delicate situation. Draco scowled, about to throw it out as he had planned the night earlier, when Sebastian turned and his attention was once again turned to the youngest Malfoy. He reminded Draco of Ginny so much his heart ached.

But how was that possible?

He suddenly remembered that a long time ago, back at Hogwarts, Granger had explained in her hoity-toity voice to the muggle studies class that people acted and looked alike after living together for a long time. He hadn't paid much attention to her profession of knowledge; listening to Mudblood was not much better than being raked over hot coals, but he distantly recalled that it had something to do with muscle movement, or facial expression, or something similar to that which would easily explained why Sebastian smiled like Ginny.

Or…

The thought crossed his mind so briefly that Draco immediately crossed it out and patted the blankets around Sebastian; a gesture he wouldn't have done mere months ago. He hesitated, and then leaned forward to press a kiss against the boy's temple before turning to leave.

Could it be…

He shook his head, as if the physical act of denouncing his own thought would banish it away. It was impossible, Draco decided, and that he had even considered it to be true was absurd. The lack of sleep must have gotten to him.

Letting out a breath, Draco tore his eyes away from Sebastian and quietly exited the room.

After all, he had a sodding benefit ball that evening.

====================================================================

Miles away, far from the secluded woods of Malfoy Manor, Ginny awoke to the same beautiful day.

Her first thought was that it was cold. It wasn't that her homely flat was lacking in warmth, but more that she wasn't used to sleeping alone. Not after the past few weeks…not after Draco. A blush filled her cheeks as memories swept through her.

Gods, I'm such a slut, she thought ruefully as she slid up slowly, blinking to focus her eyes around her room. At least, Draco must have thought so. She only wished he knew the truth about her and Harry, and moreover the truth about what had occurred seven years ago.

It was during this train of thought that she realized someone was in her bathroom.

The past night's events came back to her then, a distant, hazy recollection. She remembered Harry, and crying, and lots of alcohol, but nothing more concrete. Since when did I become such an alcoholic? Ginny thought to herself with a scowl. I seem to be doing things I would have never done before these days. She knew the answer of course: since Draco Malfoy had turned her life completely upside down.

With a loud creak, the door to her bathroom opened, and she jumped to see Harry, properly dressed but no doubt having just showered. There were beads of water forming in his dark hair – hair in dire need of a hair cut, and his eyelashes were frosted with a wetness that made it seem as if he were crying. His eyes, however, were bright and green and cheerful, and much less hung over than her own.

"Harry!" cried Ginny.

He grinned. "Didn't think you were planning to wake up anytime soon, you know," Harry answered softly. "You must be tired, especially after last night."

"Oh my god," Ginny looked around, panicked, glancing at the clothes scattered randomly on the ground. "We didn't – I mean, you didn't – well, we couldn't possibly…" Her voice trailed off, a look of utter horror on her face.

Harry suppressed a laugh. "No no," he assured her, taking a seat at the foot of her bed. "We didn't. Or at least I didn't. You went and got yourself stone drunk. I thought it might be wise to stay here, just to make sure you didn't apparate randomly into a certain Slytherin's lair like last time. You do remember, don't you?"

She averted her eyes, heatedly remembering. "I'm sorry," she breathed, unsure of what to say.

He patted her hand. "Don't worry about it, Gin. Look, let's get some breakfast, alright? I found out that Franny's going to be at some benefit ball in honor of her brother-in-law, and I want to see if I can catch her."

Her eyebrows flew up. "Benefit ball?" Ginny echoed. It couldn't be…

Harry nodded. "She told me about it when we were in Chicago, actually. Sent me an invitation, in fact. They're very hard to come by, I hear."

"Did you happen to find out who her brother-in-law is, per chance?" Ginny asked hopefully.

"Um," Harry thought deeply. "Brenson? Bronson? Something like that."

"Bronson!" she exclaimed, nearly jumping out of bed. "Yes, Bronson! Harry, Draco's throwing that ball!"

He looked at her with great disbelief. "You don't mean to tell me—"

"Harry, I have to," Ginny declared. "I absolutely have to, or I'm never going to forgive myself."

"I'm not even sure I want to go, let alone take you!" Harry protested. "Look, Malfoy isn't any good for you—"

"I'll decide who's good for me, thank you," Ginny snapped.

He stared at her, wide-eyed, and she sighed.

"Okay, I'm sorry," she said after a pause. "I didn't mean to yell at you. It's just that I—I'm so confused, Harry. I hate it. I hate not being in control. I hate all this, I hate him, only I don't and that's the problem and—"

He pressed a finger to her lips and gently silenced her. "It's okay, Gin," he said quietly. "If you really want to go, we can go. Though…if you ask me, Malfoy still isn't worth it. Don't you remember Hogwarts?"

"Of course I do," she sniffled. "He made my life hell. I hated him, absolutely despised him." She raised tear-filled eyes to meet his astonished ones now. "But when I'm with him, I seem to forget all of that, you know? It's as if…none of that ever happened. As if I'm meant to be with him."

Harry was quiet with thought. "You know," he finally said. "Ron would kill me for taking you…"

She lunged forward and threw her arms around him, a wide smile spreading across her face. "Oh thank you Harry," she gushed. "Thank you!"

====================================================================

There was no sign of Malfoy.

They had been roaming the Manor for nearly an hour now, and Harry was, as Ginny noticed, getting restless. She knew he wanted to find Fran, and she knew he was too noble to leave her. So with great hope in her heart, they wandered together in search of a once-loathed blond head.

An hour ago, there had been so much more hope.

"So this is how the other half lives," Harry had muttered when they stepped onto the great rolling lawns of Malfoy Manor. There were lights strung all around, the estate was alive with thriving, bustling bodies, and nobody paid much notice to Harry and Ginny. She still remembered the thudding of her heart, as if Draco would appear right before her.

"Do I look okay?" She'd asked self-consciously, touching her hair and smoothing the silky white folds of her gown.

He had grinned at her. "My heart belongs to Fran, Gin, but you look stunning."

But it seemed as if he had learned of her presence already, and sought out to avoid her.

"Gin—" Harry started.

And then she spotted him, and her breath hitched.

Both of them fell quiet.

"I'm going to go find Fran, okay?" Harry said quietly, following her gaze. "I trust you can get home fine.

She barely heard him as he hurried up another flight of stairs, into the dining room, which overlooked the ballroom.

Draco was strolling out onto the balcony directly adjacent to the ballroom. Dressed to the nines in robes that accurately reflected the Malfoy wealth and opulence, she thought she had never seen him look so perfect, so much like an untouched angel, before.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Not even thinking about what she was doing, Ginny crouched behind the bushes, rearranging the white dress so it wouldn't touch the ground, and watched.

He was so close to her she wanted to scream, to touch him, to do something that would make her presence known. But simultaneously fearful and nostalgic with his overwhelming scent, she simply knelt in silence and watched. "Draco," a feminine voice filled with seduction and want rang out. "Where are you going?"

As Draco turned to greet a beautiful brunette with cascading curls, Ginny felt a deep pang of jealousy. Said jealousy, however, was quickly relieved as he snapped, "Out, Rianna."

"Oh," Rianna let out a breathy sigh. "I was thinking you would want to dance."

"You thought wrong," he said shortly, and pulled away from her. As the woman disappeared back into the throng of loud people with great disappointment, Ginny felt a small smile creep upon her face.

He glanced around for a moment, and then shut one of the French doors so he could lean upon it. With one hand, Draco held a flute of wine; with the other, he loosened his tie in great frustration. She could see on his face relief to have been released from the company of his guests – guests like Rianna, she thought darkly.

The nimble fingers she knew so well tapped lightly along the slender wine glass, and he seemed focused on something far away, in the stars maybe. Admiring the line of his lean legs through pressed charcoal trousers, she let her eyes drift up to the narrow elegance of his hips, to the sinew of his arms, to his broad chest and aristocratic face.

Except…something was off.

Then she noticed: there were lines around his stormy mercury eyes, eyes so silver they glistened even from the distance, and she realized that never had she seen him so tired. He seemed fatigued, beaten in life.

"Oh Draco," she whispered softly before she could stop herself, wanting so much to kiss those lines away.

He turned his head sharply, as if he had heard her, and scanned those unfathomable gray eyes over where she was hidden, in the bushes. He frowned, and her heart raced, but she knew he couldn't possibly see her. He couldn't, she told herself, he just couldn't.

He took a step towards where she was hidden.

"Mr. Malfoy," a deep voice came from inside the ballroom, and then Draco's fascination with the bushes was lost. While Ginny watched, disappointed and relieved in equal parts, he turned to face Mr. Bronson as he stepped out onto the balcony.

====================================================================

Draco Malfoy was tired of the crowd.

He wove his way through masses of chattering, dancing people – his guests, as the ball was a smashing success – and headed for the refuge of the cool night air. He couldn't entirely pinpoint what he was tired of, as never before had he objected to showing off his immense wealth. But tonight, for some reason, nothing seemed to appease him.

The moon was at its brightest as he stepped onto the balcony, a sprawling stone balcony which had steps leading down to the grassy courtyard below. Never before had solitude and darkness looked so appealing to him.

"Draco." With great annoyance, Draco turned to see Rianna, the ill-reputed witch who had been following him around all night. After a few pointed replies to her dimwitted attempts at seduction she seemed to receive the point that he did not quite want to shag her, and she slinked back to the party. He watched her leave without much regret in his mind. She was suffocating him, the ball was suffocating him, his tie was suffocating him, the world seemed to be suffocating him.

Well. He could do away with the tie, at least.

At one point, he would have found Rianna incredibly attractive, with her creamy skin and silky hair and the utter disregard she gave for Pansy's half-minded threats. Such disregard, however, could only mean one thing when it came to women – that they either really wanted his money, or that they…

Except Ginny doesn't love me, Draco reminded himself pointedly. She's about to become Mrs. Fucking Potter.

He leaned against the door then, greatly exasperated and even further tired. Why did he have to think of Ginny? Why? Slowly, he closed his eyes, the wine glass cool against his hand, and tried vehemently to banish all thought of her from his mind.

"Oh, Draco."

His eyes flew open. Hallucination, Draco reasoned, as she couldn't possibly be here. She first of all didn't have an invitation, and second of all…just couldn't. A rustling came from the bushes, which could have easily been the wind, but for some reason his attention was drawn to the shrubbery. A part of him he refused to acknowledge hoped for the possibility…

"Mr. Malfoy." Draco turned sharply to see just about the last person he could possibly want to see: Mr. Bronson.

"Good evening," He forced, curving his lips into a polite rendition of a smile.

Mr. Bronson did not return the smile. "I see you've been dancing quite a lot tonight," he said tightly.

"Yes…" Draco agreed slowly.

"Where's your wife, Mr. Malfoy?" Mr. Bronson demanded. "Don't tell me all you gave me on family was false. You wouldn't have possibly lied, would you?"

Draco paused. How the hell was he supposed to get out of this one? "Well she—"

"And don't tell me that she wouldn't show up," Mr. Bronson continued. "Such an important event, wouldn't you agree? No happily-married, logic-minded spouse would ever miss such an event."

"Right," Draco said, for lack of better words.

"So where is she?" Mr. Bronson said with a greatly displeased look upon his face.

"Er…"

"Right here," A voice called out, and both men were surprised to see Ginny hurrying towards them, wind ruffling her red tendrils. Part of him wondered if he really was hallucinating, as if all his thinking of her had produced the real thing. Then, looking at Bronson, Draco knew he wasn't.

She stopped gracefully next to Draco, and glanced up at him with a small smile, her brown eyes soft and pleading. On his part, Draco found himself rendered speechless. His head was spinning with questions…with whys and hows and whens…and yet, as she stared at him with such tenderness in her eyes he wasn't able to say anything, wasn't really able to do anything but nod along.

A little hesitantly, she took his hand and smiled at Mr. Bronson. A heat jolted up his arm at the familiar contact. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to greet you, sir," she said sincerely, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in her own stomach. "But I've been awfully busy. You know how balls go."

Mr. Bronson grinned back at her. "Of course, Mrs. Malfoy," he answered, sounding much more relaxed. "For a moment there, I thought…"

"I know," Ginny said before he could finish the thought. "But don't worry – Draco wouldn't lie to his customers like that."

"Of course," Mr. Bronson flushed, and nodded towards Draco. "Do forgive me. Enjoy yourselves." With a slightly embarrassed chuckle, he tottered back to the party.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Draco tore his hand away. "What are you doing here?" He hissed, taking two quick strides to the doors and shutting them both loudly.

She hesitated, taking the moment to observe him from a close vicinity. In the pale moonlight his skin seemed almost translucent, and gave him an ethereal touch which made her heart beat slower and faster all at the same time. His eyes, however, were icy – like a cutting steel blade. He was so beautiful, she thought, but so cold.

"I—I just need you to listen," she blurted out, all eloquence previously rehearsed flying out of her head. "Please."

He glared at her. "How did you get in?"

"Draco—"

"How," He said once more, darkly, sharply, angrily.

She couldn't meet his eyes, as she couldn't exactly lie. "Harry had an invitation," she admitted, watching his face harden even more. "Mr. Bronson's wife is his girlfriend's sister—" she hastened to add.

"Oh so what are you two, a pair that sets out to break everyone's hearts now?" Draco snarled.

Ginny blinked, and he immediately wished he hadn't spoken. "I wasn't aware I had that effect on you," she said softly.

"You don't," he cut her off. "Don't overestimate your appeal, Weasley."

"Draco, why are we at this?" Ginny all but cried, reaching for him. "I've been miserable with you, if you would just listen to me—"

"What's there to listen?" Draco shouted, pushing her away. "You're engaged to Potter. Or are there any more you haven't told me? No, don't answer that. I don't care. Have a nice life, Weasley."

"I love you," she choked out, tears welling in her eyes.

"You're a horrible liar," he said icily. "I don't want you to love me, Weasley. In fact, I don't want anything from you. As of now I'm banishing you from ever stepping foot on this property again."

"Draco—"

"Why don't you just stop talking?" Draco sneered. "Don't you get it, Weasley? You think you've hurt me, don't you? Well maybe I should enlighten you yet again, but I don't give a fuck what you do. I've had plenty more beautiful women than you, plenty richer women. Like I said, you were just convenient. One of many. Ron's stupid little sister. A conquest. And not even a good one, at that."

Tears were spilling freely down her cheeks now, her chest throbbing as she tried in vain not to show how much he was affecting her. Her eyes were red and swollen and her cheeks blotchy. Her hair was now matted to her face, the meticulous curls falling out of their pomade grasp, and she was aware how she must look to him, how incomparable she must be next to witches like Rianna.

In Draco's opinion, Ginny had never looked so beautiful, and his heart had never been in so many pieces.

"Fine," she screamed at him, as if that would get him to stop talking. "I get you, okay? I understand. You can stop now. I just—I—"

Not finding the right words, she fumbled in her purse to produce a small, glistening object. She rolled it between her fingers for a moment, using her free hand to wipe away some of her tears. "Here," Ginny whispered, her voice hoarse.

"I don't want anything of yours," Draco snarled, feeling as if he were under an Unforgivable with every word. "I've been trying to forget all of you inane Weasleys pollute the Wizarding community ever since Hogwarts."

She blinked, cheeks utterly streaked with the wetness of her pain now. "Okay," she said quietly. "Except this isn't mine. I guess—I guess I thought it was for a while. Or that it could be. But I see now that I was wrong." Ginny reached for his limp, cold hand, and pressed it into his palm.

He jerked at her touch, and she backed away. "I won't bother you again, Malfoy" she promised in a soft, heartbroken voice that jabbed at his very soul. Turning on her heel, she fled into the darkness, away from Malfoy Manor.

Draco watched her leave, his stomach feeling like lead. Everything was so far away – the party, the voices. Alone on his balcony, it seemed he was alone in the world, one man in the sad glow of the moon. He watched the white of her dress until it disappeared, until he could see no more but blackness and blackness was, after all, all that he truly knew.

He opened his palm slowly to find a small silver cufflink glittering up at him, a serpent embossed lightly with the letter M. Draco nearly dropped it. He would recognize that cufflink anywhere, the cufflink he woke up seven years ago without. If Ginny had the cufflink, that would mean…

His head snapped up, but she was already gone.

End of Chapter 12

A/N Right right, I realize this has been long in the coming but hey, less time than before, right? I've had AP Testing and ACTs and PSAEs and SATs and ARGH. So yes, I'm sorry, but it's done! Be happy! Just a note – it's probably going to take me a while to write the next chapters because since I've got finals in 3 or so weeks, so all my teachers get the brilliant idea that oh! There's no time left! Let's cram a million bazillion tests and projects in! And of course, after I finish all those projects I've got finals to study for…and SATs the weekend before…so again, apologies ahead of time. For now, enjoy this chapter…and don't forget to REVIEW! I would do individual thanks but I'm sooo swamped right now…I really do appreciate every one of your reviews…they make my day in this time of great insanity.