N/A: My little Christmas gift for those who follow this story! Draco and Ginny FINALLY meet again haha!Yeeey!

I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, I hope you can feel the same way while reading it!

11 – The Beginning of Their Story

March, 2005.

Ginevra of Woodcroft wandered naturally among the customers of her shop, providing help, offers and, often, just cordial small talk.

"Maybe you should take one of these, Mr. Wilson." She pointed to a specific potion vial, showing it to a customer. "It's ideal for ward off night invaders."

"Is that so, Mrs. Woodcroft?" The grey-haired customer asked, scratching his chin slightly in doubt. "I really don't see why I'd need it."

"I'm sure you do, safety for your family in the first place!" Ginny said with an expression of almost maternal concern. "How is it possible to sleep peacefully with the suspicion that someone can sneak into your home at any time? Haven't your neighborhood been through a situation like this last week?"

Her years as a salesperson made her understand she had an involuntary influence on clients. Even dressed modestly, she admitted that her youthful and flashy appearance, coupled with a witty attitude, were often factors that made them feel more comfortable, even if they did not even realise it.

"Oh, you're right, as always. I won't lose another night's sleep and my house is going to be protected." The man said excitedly. "By the way, speaking about my family, Sarah demands you to be at our house for dinner next Saturday, said she won't accept refusals this time. It'll be good for our children to finally get to know each other, after all. How old is your little boy?"

"It'll be my pleasure, Mr. Wilson! It'd be great to visit your wife and kids." Ginny's smile was radiant while she blatantly lied. She had no intention of going to that dinner whatsoever.

Exposing James was an idea that almost panicked her. With each passing day, he resembled more a miniature version of Harry Potter. Ginny supposed that her son's lighter hair was not enough to remove the resemblance to his father.

"James has turned six last month."

Mr. Wilson put his hand on her shoulder, gently. "May we set a time then?"

Ginny was saved from an immediate response when Flynn snuck up, elegantly dressed in his new uniform. "Mrs. Woodcroft, your presence is being requested urgently upstairs, in your office."

In order to escape the kind but inconvenient invitation, Ginny would have had tea with Pansy Parkinson. For obvious reasons, she had become anti-social and extremely reclusive in the years that passed.

Still, she smiled kindly at Mr. Wilson.

"Give me a couple of minutes, will you? The shop's bureaucracy consumes almost all of my time. I'll be back as soon as I can." She gave him a gentle wink and hurried off upstairs, Flynn at her heels.

She did not dare waiting for the older man's reply.

"I'd thank you for rescuing me from an awkward situation, Flynn, but first I have to know who you let into my office without my permission, just to make sure you really deserve my gratitude." Ginny said half serious, half joking.

"I wouldn't know, ma'am." The young man answered devastated. "I went to your office with James to get the list of orders for this week and two men were there demanding to see you. I didn't want to call you, I said you were busy, but one of them threatened me to shove a Ton-Tongue Toffee up in a hole where there's no tongue at all. I thought it was very rude, if you ask me, but then I went down and called you because I don't know the effect that a Ton-Tongue Toffee would have on a place like that." He completed, alarmed.

"Did you leave James alone with two strangers!?" Ginny was almost shouting, but then she took Flynn's sentence completely; the young man, in turn, shrank visibly. Only after a few seconds the logic took the place of her bad temper. "Did you say Ton-Tongue Toffee?"

"Yes. They're horrible, as you know."

George. And probably another acquaintance of hers. Ginny became calm again.

"I got it, Flynn. I can handle these guys with the wand in my left hand." Ginny was smiling again. "Go back to the shop and help with the customers. This might take a while." When Flynn was already turning around, she completed. "And the next time you leave my son alone with strangers, I'll use all my stock of Ton-Tongue Toffee on you myself."

She entered the office and closed the door, casting a Muffliato Charm around her. In those days, one could not be too careful.

There were two hooded men in the room; one looked incessantly out the window, as if he were being hunted - as he really must have been - while the other was throwing a smiling James in the air. When they saw her, they stopped where they were. The one with James placed the boy on the floor and lowered his hood, revealing stark red hair and a lack of an ear.

George.

"Mum! This man brought me many sweets as a gift. He said I'm almost a man, so I can have my own broom soon!" The boy said happily, inflating his little chest with pride. He turned to George. "Can you teach me how to fly?"

Ginny felt her heart sink and not for the first time she wanted to drop everything and go back to her family. Depriving James of contact with his uncles was one of the things that hurt most. More than ever, she felt powerless and frustrated.

"You bet! I'm the best Beater ever and I'm sure you're going to be a great one too." George grinned mischievously at the boy. "I can even see you taking down all Slytherins with deadly strokes."

"I want to be a Seeker!" James pouted.

"You can be whatever you want, my love." Ginny came over, stroking the boy's head. "Why don't you ask Flynn for your Quidditch sticker album?" She asked pointing to George with a nod. "To show him?"

"Yes! You wait for me?" He asked George, who nodded still smiling. Then, James seemed to remember something important. "Err, I don't know your name."

"My name is Geo-" George started saying.

"His name is Geo ... ffrey! That's it, Geoffrey!" Ginny interrupted awkwardly. "Now go look for your album with Flynn."

The boy hurried out, not without first looking back and making sure that George had not apparated or run away. When he was sure George was still in place, he ran out the door.

"Geoffrey?! Didn't you have something better in mind?" George said as soon as the boy left them alone. "I always thought I had a knack for Bradley, or something that sounds like, 'I'm cute, aren't I?'"

"It was the best I could come up with." Ginny winced at her latent lack of creativity. "Your visits are becoming more and more frequent. James is going to need a name to associate with your image. Preferably, names that aren't the real ones."

"Strange to hear you want him to make any association with us." The man at the window spoke for the first time, lowering his hood. Ron seemed older, even though he was just 25 years old. And more tired. Of all her brothers, he was the one she saw least often. The sarcastic tone in his voice also did not match the brother who was once the closest to Ginny. "He's looking more and more like Harry."

"I missed you too, Ronald. And yes, I could already notice the similarity between father and son. It's the power of genetics, they say." Ginny said pointedly, collapsing in her favorite chair. "Why did you come?"

"George probably came to see the boy. I just came to get more Erumpent Draught. Our stock has run out."

Ginny felt her temper rising by the second. "Don't you dare imply that you don't care about James, Ronald Weasley! Don't pretend that he means nothing to you! He's your nephew! I'll be happy to make you understand this with a spell, if I must." She threatened with a raised finger pointed at Ron and the other hand on her waist.

Ron's ears turned bright red and Ginny guessed that her appearance would not be much different, but she was already fed up with Ron's attitude towards James.

"You didn't want him to be part of our family! You took the boy away from us!" Ron replied in the same tone. "You took him away from Harry!"

The two of them got up at the same time, ready to remember the bellicose old times of their childhood.

"Oh oh. Which one of you do I have to stun first?" George had placed himself between them, turning his wand between his fingers carelessly, sometimes pointing at Ginny, sometimes at Ron. "Maybe you, Ginny? It'd be nice to give Ron a chance to escape here unscathed." He said never losing the smile on his face.

Ginny regained some self-control; Ron had never accepted the fact that she had to take James away from the war. He never understood that she took the boy away from what Harry's image represented, not from his father.

"It's not necessary, George. It's not yet time to settle my score with Ron." Ginny said while Ron, for his part, gave her his dirtiest look.

"Can't wait." He replied while sitting with his arms crossed and the same pout James had just shown. In another situation, Ron's attitude would have triggered a laugh in Ginny, but she was still too annoyed to be influenced by the fun of his gesture.

"How much potion do you need?" Ginny asked finally defeated by George's threat.

"As much as you can provide. And maybe a little more. We have more people and are planning a bigger offensive against Malfoy and the Ministry." Ron seemed to come out of his tantrum. "That twitchy little ferret has been trying to crack down on rebels since he took over as one of the Heads of the Ministry last year. But we're finally going to give him our business card."

Ginny thought for a moment before answering. "I need time. The Erumpent Draught you use is much more robust than the one I make to the Ministry so it takes much longer to be made."

Ron and George visibly frowned at the fact that Ginny did supply potions to the Ministry. Potions that would be used against them.

Ginny noticed the distinct change in their mood.

"And don't pull that face at me, you two! I have explained a thousand times that I need to support myself in some way and the Ministry's quite a client. Besides, the potion I sell to them is much weaker than the one I give to you." She stressed the contrast between the verbs 'sell' and 'give.'

"It doesn't change the fact they use your potions against us." Ron insisted.

"You know better than anyone else how to cancel the effects of the potions before it explodes!" Ginny was exasperated by the thousandth time she discussed it, with different relatives and friends. "I've already passed the recommendations on how to do it!"

The agreement reached between Ginny and the Resistance was that some potions used by the Ministry must achieve its purpose, exploding as expected, even if it did not really hurt anyone.

"This discussion again isn't going to get us anywhere. Ginny's more stubborn than an ogre with a headache and we have a portkey to grasp in a few minutes in the Muggle part of London." George said, clicking his tongue to express his disapproval. "How much time do you need?"

"I have a delivery to the Ministry in two days. To make the time I need, I can postpone it and use the potions I'd deliver to them as a raw material for your potions." Ginny responded confidently.

"Won't that get you in trouble?" George was suddenly concerned.

"I'm relatively safe, George." At least I think I am. "I have some credit with the Ministry and I've already established myself within wizarding society as a promising widowed merchant. I don't think we have anything to worry about." She smiled not sure if it had convinced her brother.

Ron stood up, not waiting for George's answer. "I think we're settled, then. Within two days, send the potions to this address." He handed her a note with some scribbled coordinates. "Use a fake name - another fake name - and send us everything you can. We'll take it at dawn."

She nodded thoughtfully, noticing the poison in his words regarding her false identity. Then George hugged her for a long time.

"Take care of that boy. He has potential." He said close to her ear. "I'll be back to see you as soon as I can."

Ron approached her hesitantly. "Hn, take care, Ginny. It'd be terrible if we had to come and save you from trouble." He stumbled over the words and she thought of a way to use a Cruciatus Curse on Ron without drawing the Ministry's attention.

However, she preferred to swallow the insult that was on the tip of her tongue and ask about their family. "How are Mom and Dad? And Bill? Hermione? I could talk to them and-"

"They're all fine, Gingin." George interrupted her gently. "And no, you know you can't talk to them. If you made your choices, you have to go ahead with them. Taking a look at them would expose us and you too, more than necessary." He completed and Ginny could feel the sadness in his voice.

In the next moment, her siblings lifted their hoods, held hands and disappeared from the room, leaving behind only the peculiar apparition's noise.

Ginny sat in the armchair and put her face in her hands, already beginning to feel her body being eroded by the almost unbearable longing that accompanied her.

The Woodcroft Potions Shop was particularly busy that morning.

Two days prior, the Resistance had stroke boldly, targeting one of the Ministry of Magic's support points - using a highly explosive mysterious potion - and brutally killing seven Aurors in the process.

People reacted differently to the case. They knew the Ministry was the prevailing authority, but, on the other hand, they also knew it was in the hands of dark wizards, who dictated the context of tension and terror in which people have lived in recent years.

They were in an extreme situation where they cheered fervently on one side, but could not abdicate their lives, which depended on the other.

Ginny was very fond of this kind of reaction.

Then, the solution found by ordinary people was arming themselves to the teeth with artifacts for safety, either against the Resistance or against the Ministry, which made Ginny's vaults at Gringotts become a little more stuffed.

And she was very fond of this kind of reaction as well.

Ginny circulated through her shop indicating potions, making jokes, pretending to blush when getting a bolder compliment from men, sharing votes for a safer world with women, playfully threatening children who dared to get too close to the dangerous shelves.

If longing for her family prevented her from being totally happy, Ginny found some comfort in working. And in James.

Something inside her was certainly not satisfied with that, but she insisted on ignoring it just as she used earmuffs to ignore mandrakes. And since she did not have earmuffs to deal with that annoying small inner voice that said she needed to live and not pretend to live, she threw herself into work.

She was busy cataloging the remaining potions on a shelf when a small commotion took over her shop entrance. Three men whom Ginny recognised as Ministry Aurors entered the shop, searching with their eyes for possible sources of danger.

That scene had occurred many times in the past few months to make her afraid. She remembered, in the first few times, she had been petrified, afraid of having been discovered by the Ministry, imagining a thousand ways to escape her shop, catch James and run away like a crazy woman.

But not anymore.

As expected, people started to disperse, go out to other shops in the Diagon Alley with less gloomy surroundings. That should have irritated Ginny - and she was really irritated - but by the fact that it was not the cause of her irritation. Before her head collapsed from illogical thinking, she tried to keep some customers with their minds occupied, away from the attention aroused by the Aurors.

She knew there was nothing to worry about. At least for people who had nothing to hide.

It was just him coming.

She refrained a cold sensation threatening to run down her spine. Certainly, it was duo to her fear of exposing herself. Fear of her past.

Two Aurors were positioned at the doorframe of her shop and another one left the store - probably to guard the illustrious and undesirable visitor's.

She turned around, trying to focus on the young woman - apparently about 17 years old-, who wanted to buy a Ginny's exclusive self-defense potion, which caused the victim's eyes to burn.

"My dad is going to be more relaxed if I carry one of these on my robe." The young woman said as she shook a vial slightly. "Who knows, he might stop nagging me about my schedule."

"Your father is right to be concerned. We're not living in a peaceful time." Ginny smiled to soften the truth of her words. "Besides, parents are like that." Then she sighed, depressed at the fact she used that expression much more disparagingly before conceiving James.

"Oh yes, I'm sure-" The young woman interrupted what she was going to say when the doorbell over the door indicated a new customer coming into the store. She fixed her gaze somewhere over Ginny's shoulder. "I don't know why to worry though, if we have someone like that to protect us from the rebels." She added with an extremely malicious smile on her face.

Even though Ginny knew whom the girl was referring to, she turned to see what had caught the girl's attention, but did not have time to complete the movement discreetly.

Draco Malfoy was already beside her, with three Aurors surrounding him. Ginny tensed by their presence, but Malfoy dismissed the Aurors with a derisive gesture of his gloved hand.

"I shall not need you in here." The three left without another word as he turned to Ginny. "Mrs. Woodcroft, it's always a pleasure to see you." He said with chilly cordiality, not appearing to be particularly happy to see her. The grey eyes seemed to register everything around him, except for the girl in front of Ginny, who looked at him with admiration.

What would seem like a compliment or a gallantry in the mouth of normal people, in Draco Malfoy's mouth came out as cold courtesies, loaded with disdain for the world and his interlocutor.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy." Ginny had to train in the mirror for days until she was able to use formalities with Malfoy without wrinkling her freckled, upturned nose. "And it's always a pleasure to receive your visits."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and a faint hint of a smirk crossed his lips for a brief moment. Only Ginny - and the young woman who was watching him so intently - could have noticed.

"Yes, I imagine you're very pleased to see your clientele spreading to other stores because of the unwelcome presence of someone from the Ministry." He became impassive again and Ginny calculated how purple his eye could get after a punch. She made a mental note to clear the doubt with Hermione someday. "Anyway, I didn't come here to pay a cordial visit; I came to see the Ministry's potions preparation. The ones that are late, if I recall."

"I suspected that much." She replied, biting her tongue to avoid being too rude. She nodded to Flynn, who approached them shyly. "Take Mr. Malfoy to the Potions Room and make sure he's comfortable." She looked significantly at the young man, implying that 'comfortable' meant 'don't let the bastard touch anything until I can keep an eye on him' and hoped Flynn could understand the subtext. "I'll be with him soon."

She needed time to breathe and concentrate so as not to make any mistakes when going over the potions and ingredients with Malfoy. She was having a lot of work lately; between making strong potions for the Resistance, weak potions for the Ministry and surviving Draco Malfoy's inspections - notably a guy who knew the art of making potions - she was reaching the limit of her patience.

He started going to her shop a few months after he was appointed as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and since then it had been rare that fifteen days have passed without one of his 'visits'.

Inwardly, Ginny was very confused about his attitude: in some moments of insanity she could have sworn that he liked being there: it was public and known the fact he was a great connoisseur of the subject - his best grades were always in potions and his good performance was not just due to Snape's protection.

But there was something else, she could tell. It was as if he almost… enjoyed her company, her potion skills.

Sometimes Ginny even lost track of time while making mixtures silently with him, between steaming cauldrons and disgusting ingredients. They understand each other without even a word when it came to potions. And then they spent hours on end in this rhythmic and methodical ritual of brewing potions. In those moments she could not remember how hateful he could be when he wanted to.

But only in those moments.

And then she regained her sanity and common sense, convincing herself that he went to the Woodcroft Shop only for the duties of the job. Even though he was an accomplished employee at the Ministry - and in theory he should not inspect potions from simple suppliers, even the most exclusive ones like Ginevra of Woodcroft - his hard-line fame explained, at least in part, his centralizing behavior.

And it did not fit in with the Malfoy she had met as a teenager.

But the question to ask was: How much was left of that pale boy in whom she had cast Boggart-Banishing Spell, almost ten years ago? Was he still the Malfoy she knew?

Also, there were the dark moments when Ginny felt he was there to investigate her. He knew there was something wrong with her potions and he had certainly already identified the attack pattern of the Resistance's weapons. Would he be able to put two and two together?

She did not want to know the answer.

Ginny sighed loudly, feeling she was never going to get the reason why Draco Malfoy insisted on not dying along with her past.

"Yeah, he does cause that kind of reaction, doesn't he?" The young woman chuckled, misinterpreting Ginny's sigh.

"It's nothing like that! Well, it's just... Oh, forget it." Ginny shrugged, already preparing to face the dragon. She changed her mind halfway and turned to talk to the girl one more time. "And you know what, he's not even handsome, with that pointed face and everything." She gestured to emphasize her opinion.

"I knew it!" The young woman almost roared with laughter and Ginny grimaced at her, but was ignored. "He doesn't look like a hunk of a man, indeed. But that's not all that counts, is it? That one is charming! He must be a hell of a partner for certain activities!"

"Charming, pff!" Ginny scoffed, out of words.

"Well, at least he could charm his way into my knickers as much as he wanted." She gave Ginny a knowing wink and turned towards the cashier, leaving Ginny flushed for no apparent reason.

What the hell were the young women of those days thinking?!

Ginny arrived in the room where she used to brew potions half an hour later.

She had left Malfoy waiting on purpose, a whim in the name of the aggressiveness of their old days.

He was sitting with his arms crossed over his chest in a chair in the corner of the room, with legs crossed elegantly, an ankle on his knee. One foot dangled systematically, indicating that he was impatient. His black robe touched the shiny floor of Ginny's potion room and she felt sorry for the house-elves who were supposed to wash his clothes.

His hair, even longer than Ginny would think acceptable, fell over his grey eyes and, combined with the slight sulky air, formed the image of a spoiled child waiting for attention that had not come at the expected time.

Ginny had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at his face.

"Sorry for the delay, Mr. Malfoy." She sounded about as sorry as a bee did for stinging. "You know, customers tend to-"

"I have no interest in your customers' habits or whatsoever." He cut her off, rising sulkily. "May we begin?"

Oh, we may.

Ginny was a little annoyed by his rude response, but she was still under the effect of the good mood caused by the barely contained laugh.

"Of course." She replied solicitously. "Since the last time you were here, I've developed another effective way to brew some of the potions we've discussed. Would like to see?"

He nodded silently and so they spent the next two hours, discussing the properties of ingredients and qualities of cauldron brands. Everything was easier when they were in that room, as if there were no wars, pretenses, problems.

They stood side by side and his figure sometimes intimidated her. He really was the size of Ron and, using her brother as a reference, he must have been over six feet tall. Ginny had never been intimidated by big men - given the size of her brothers - but as long as she could use a wand against them and not end up in Azkaban for that.

Malfoy just watched what she was doing; the movement of her hands cutting, chopping and kneading seemed to mesmerize him. She felt his grey eyes hover over her gestures as if he were seeing some highly striking dance. She was getting tense in the face of his silent attention, which only seemed to grow with the passing of his 'visits'.

Was he trying to find out something or just make her uncomfortable?

"I know it's not very pleasant..." She said to break the tension, referring to the slug she was cutting with a silver knife deftly.

She could grasp some things about this adult version of her Slytherin enemy.

Draco Malfoy was a very quiet man, who distrusted - and disliked - words, as if they were deadly traps and not a form of communication. Where and how the transition from the loudmouth boy to the taciturn and suspicious adult occurred, Ginny could not say.

He used silence in the same way normal people used language. And that alarmed her, since she had grown up at The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole's noisiest house.

Then, when he opened his mouth to speak, Ginny was caught completely off guard.

"They are quite beautiful." He said absently, still looking at her hands.

Ginny stopped abruptly and Malfoy realised that he had thought out loud, but it was too late. A slight flush gave a pinkish hue to his pale face.

"The slugs! The slugs are beautiful to look at." He fumbled, looking a lot less dangerous than he really was. Still, he tried to keep the arrogant tone in his voice, which made the situation even funnier for Ginny.

Ginny grinned for the first time, forgetting all the problems the white ferret could bring her.

"Yeah, they are." She said, no longer holding back the laugh. "Mainly because of their stickiness and lack of articulation."

Malfoy bravely pulled himself together; he walked away with all his remaining dignity, leaning his shoulder against a cupboard, crossing his arms over his chest. And with only one sentence, he wiped the smile off her face.

"You know, I've been thinking about your Erumpent Draught." He left the sentence in the air, measuring Ginny's reaction. She remained static, focused on the 'beauty' of the slug. "Perhaps you could make it stronger."

Of course, I can make it stronger, big twit! That is what I've been doing to the Resistance for years! She was thinking frantically, trying to find a satisfactory way out of the situation.

"For the Ministry, of course." He completed in an afterthought.

"Oh yes?" She asked pretending to be distracted. And that was difficult when her back was starting to sweat. "How come?"

"You can add Doxy eggs to make the potion more stable and increase the brewing time." He seemed satisfied with his idea and Ginny wanted to slap him. "If we expose the mixture to higher temperatures, for a longer time, we're likely to be able to maximize the potential of the other ingredients because of the eggs."

She made an extraordinary effort not to let any of her despair show. The problem was precisely that he was right. She made this exact combination to improve her potion's performance. She needed to distract him, buy time, breathe.

So, despite her common sense, she decided to play dirty.

"Mr. Malfoy, can you come here for a moment?" Ginny asked kindly, ignoring his suggestion.

He frowned for a moment and blinked at her, but approached her nonetheless.

"Do you think this slug is really ready for cutting?" She partially lifted the slug with a spatula. "Notice how its viscosity isn't ideal. What do you think?"

Obviously, the idea displeased him, but Malfoy approached her laterally, bending down a little to see the poor dead animal. He grimaced.

"It seems as ready as it'll ever be." Draco said grudgingly.

"No, no. In this position you're not at the right angle! The light isn't hitting the slug correctly. Stay behind me, so you can see better."

Even visibly uncomfortable, Malfoy positioned himself right behind her. "I cannot see why-"

"This is way better." Ginny interrupted him. "Do you see now? Its colour is weird and looks like it's contaminated by some kind of fungus..."

Ginny did not even pay attention to what she was saying anymore, feeling his presence so powerful behind her. She was sure he was trying to peer over her shoulder, also bothered by their improper proximity. Ginny could not help but remember Blaise Zabini's words, said so many years before.

Or it might be just because of his poor finesse when it comes to women.

"It's right here, look." She moved away from the table with the 'intention' to let him see better and got even closer to his body behind her. The top of her head brushed his well-shaved chin. "Ah, looks like the fungus is well hidden..." She bent down, letting her hips brush lightly against Malfoy's.

She felt he had become more tense.

Ginny closed her eyes, terrified; she needed a way to get out of it before he hexed her, shagged her, repelled her, laughed at her face or passed out. Ginny did not know how she would react to any of these situations.

Taking a desperate measure, she took her spatula and pretended to try to lift the dead slug. Then, as if the lever with the spatula had left her control, she threw the slug back, praying that her aim would still be the same.

It still was.

The slug, at the height of its viscosity, hit Malfoy right in the forehead and ran down the right side of his face, hitting his expensive black robe until it fell to the floor, leaving an unpleasant and gelatinous trail where it passed.

Ginny turned quick as lightning, coming face to face with the figure in black, whose right eye was closed due to the greenish goo covering that side of his face.

The eye that was still open had the hue of the sky before a storm. Ginny was beginning to suspect this was not a good thing. Nor was his mouth tightened in a thin line full of disapproval.

"Hm, yep, I don't think there was any fungus after all." She tried to sound natural, shrugging.

Malfoy leaned over, moving closer to her.

Ginny froze and closed her eyes. She was nothing of a coward, but she knew she had crossed some limits that should not be crossed.

Then, much to her surprise and outrage, she felt his smeared face stick to the right part of her face and heard his drawled voice, particularly low and menacing, close to her ear.

"I shall leave now. But don't you dare think I'm going to forget this little stunt of yours, let alone our conversation about improving the fucking potion."

A shiver ran through Ginny's body from end to end and she did not know if it was because of his threat or the contact with someone's body - even if it belonged to the bouncing ferret - after so many years.

He apparated without even looking at her again, his face still dirty and his pride hurt.

Ginny took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her face as best as she could. After a moment, the traces of the slug were gone.

The only problem was the perfume that was strange but likable to her, which insisted on not fading in the air like its owner had done.

A few days passed and Ginny dismissed the incident, where 'dismissed' meant 'forbidden to think about'. She would deal with Draco Malfoy when the time came; suffering in anticipation would not do her any good.

In that exact moment, she needed a way to make a large batch of Erumpent Draught to her brothers and stall the Ministry for a few more days, in order to use the amount she already had there as raw material.

In the small office in her shop, she paced restlessly back and forth as if the solution could come through the steps she took on the carpet floor.

James, who was with her in the office that day, was sitting on the edge of her desk, swinging his legs as he opened packages and more packages of chocolate frogs, oblivious to Ginny's concerns.

Absently, she looked out the window. It was already night! She had lost track of time… James should have been in bed for hours by now! If her mother had known that she had this kind of carelessness with her son's schedules, Molly Weasley would have already sent a Howler directly to Ginny's office, the war be damned.

James pulled her out of her thoughts with his typical joyous comments.

"Mum! Look at the card I just found!" James said, after a chocolate frog jumped, hit the boy's upturned nose and bounced out of his reach. "Hen..." He started to read with difficulty. "Hengist of Woodcroft... I can read his name, because that's my name too..." He was thoughtful and raised those bright green eyes towards her, making Ginny felt her heart sink when she saw a glimmer of hope in those eyes she loved so much. "Is he our family?"

Ginny looked away, opening and closing her mouth before answering. When she had taken the courage to say any words that would distract James from his question, she heard a glass shatter downstairs, where the shop and the Potion Room were located. Unconsciously, she pulled her wand from the inside of her robe.

Looking at her own clothes, Ginny refrained a disapproving grimace. She was wearing the clothes she usually used at the store, favoring a knee-length skirt. Those clothes would not make it any easier if she had to deal with a crook. She sighed and decided to act as quickly as she could.

"Luv, I'll have to go downstairs to see if something's wrong there-"

"What if there's a monster down there?!" The boy interrupted her in alarm, suddenly forgetting his question about their family.

Ginny had to smile. "If there's a monster, I'll make it a point to tell him to leave our shop and stay away from my son." She kissed the top of the James' head.

James managed a smile. "If I were the monster, I wouldn't tease you." He chuckled, certainly remembering the moments when Ginny let her bad temper come out.

"Ha ha ha, you're so funny." She said in a tone of false rebuke and hugged the boy before leaving the office. "I'll be right back. And don't eat all these chocolate frogs!"

"I won't." James beamed at her and Ginny instantly knew he would.

Brat.

She went down the stairs as quietly as she could, sharpening her instincts in order to hear what was going on. There was a faint sound of footsteps coming from her Potion Room. She would have to be cautious now: taking a silent step after another, her typically feline agility put her at an advantage over her opponents. She left the room where the potions were on display and went to the Potion Room, where the preparations were bottled.

It was very dark, but she did not dare using her wand to light the room and draw attention to herself; she sneaked open the door and got in slowly, stomping on the floor without making a sound, until she felt an arm around her waist.

Shite.

"You're not as smart as you think, little widow."

Ginny felt a tall, strong man with firewhisky breath talking near her ear.

Ginny controlled the natural disgust she felt for the man, quickly releasing her free arm and elbowing the invader in the nose.

He released her immediately with a muffled cry of pain and she was able to find a place to protect herself. She went over knocking over cabinets with her wand to hinder her opponent's passage.

"You fuckin' bitch! You'll pay for this! Do you hear me, you slut?!"

Ginny was panting, more from the fright than from the effort. In the gloom of the room, she could not see anything, just glimpses of furniture and the gleam of vials. Why, in Merlin's name, was that wretched git there?

She saw the jet of a green hex pass over her head and bounce off the wall, where it made a hole with considerable noise. She took a deep breath and tried to guess where the troglodyte was. She cast a Stunning Spell, but it did not hit anyone.

The idiot could only be trapped in the corner of the door. Ginny had closed one side with fallen furniture, which would expose his position if he tried to move. On the other, there were the heavy cabinets that he would run into if he tried to pass by. Ginny knew the room with her eyes closed after so long working day and night there.

It was like she had predicted: he had taken the only possible path for him. Ginny came around, knowing she would come face to face with him. She vaguely noticed that he had a disproportionate build and he was panting, as if chasing her within that relatively small space had already taken effort.

She smiled maniacally; it would be his bloody end.

Ginny pointed her wand at the bloke, who stopped short. Ginny came over and her wand sank into his double chin. The man was masked as a bloody Death Eater, but his robes had the insignia of a Ministry official. She almost laughed at the irony: Ministry or Death Eaters, it was the same nowadays.

"I did listen to you." She said without hiding the anger in her voice and sinking her wand further into the man's neck. "But I'm still waiting to know how I'm going to pay."

She felt that he trembled slightly and was preparing to immobilize him when she was interrupted.

"You may not have to wait long, girl." A voice said behind her. She turned away sharply and found two more masked men. And, to her dismay, one of them was carrying James, floating and tied behind him. "Drop your wand." One of the new masked men spoke and she promptly obeyed.

James had eyes like saucers; he was all tied up and gagged, like a little animal. Ginny felt an absurd rage rising inside her.

"If any of you hurt my son, I'll fucking kill you all." Ginny growled at them.

Taking advantage of her distraction, the big man in front of her reversed their positions and, with a jerk, threw Ginny against the wall, while kicking her wand to keep it away from her. Ginny hit her head on the surface as the man projected forward and pressed her body against the wall.

"Then let's see what you can do without your wand." He supported his own body weight on her and pressed her even more; his mouth was very close to her ear. "I bet you can be very docile, with the right treatment."

Dimly, Ginny saw James forcing the strings to come free and trying to say something, but his voice was drowned out by the gag.

"Goyle, enough. Hurting her would only bring more problems." The other man said, the one who was holding James. Ginny saw him turn to the other escort, shorter and also masked. "Go get what we came for." The shorter man stepped out of sight and, sometime later, she could hear the noise of things being turned over.

They want my potions!, She thanked Merlin for not having started making the potions to Resistance yet; she only had a few vials with her which was not enough to incriminate her completely, even if it was enough for someone with more intelligence to make the right associations.

Certainly not someone like Goyle. Even after so many years, that git still showed up to make her life miserable.

"This isn't the time we'll have our little chat, sweetie." Goyle had pulled away a little, but she could still feel his hateful breath on her cheek. "Next time, we'll finish what we started." Slowly, he ran his hand over her thigh, causing a wave of revulsion to run through Ginny's body.

Her bad temper got out of Ginny's control; she turned directly to the big masked man and spat so hard that it would make her brothers proud. The spit stream hit him in the eye, dripping down the mask - and inside too, she supposed contentedly.

"You bitch!" Goyle pulled Ginny by the arm and threw her on the ground. She tried to search for her wand with her eyes, but the dark made it impossible to do anything about it; she tried to get up, but Goyle pointed his wand straight at her.

"Crucio!" He screamed and the last thing Ginny saw before hitting the ground again was James's terrified face.

She had never experienced it. It looked like she was being dismembered. As if the air pressure had increased exponentially, making her organs explode. It was not possible to breathe, move or react.

Just scream.

And screamed she did in the first time she was hit by the curse. In the second time, she just groaned painfully. On the third, she saw nothing else.

She opened her eyes slowly, annoyed by the first rays of light that seeped through the Potion Room window; she closed them again, too weak even to perform the simplest movements. She felt she had been run over by a pack of Thestrals; every nerve in her body were hypersensitive and she felt that any movement would detach the muscles from her very bones. She remained there, floating between consciousness and unconsciousness, hearing voices that seemed to come from afar.

"Have we taken everything already? We have to leave quickly! If the wrong people at the Ministry find out we were here…" One of the invaders left the sentence in the air.

"Who, Malfoy? He's being too soft with this one, nobody knows why." She recognised Goyle's hateful voice. "It's more than fair to take her entire potion stock. She always gives the Ministry the runaround whenever we need the potions and we can't afford confront the Resistance without it, not after their last strike. Don't forget that we're not able to prepare the potions ourselves."

"What if she doesn't keep her mouth shut about it?"

"She's not going to report us. Not if she wants stay out of trouble. We're the Law now." Goyle said with pride, which turned Ginny's already weakened stomach.

"What are we going to do with the boy?" That was a different voice.

"Just leave him here. We already got what we came for."

Ginny opened her eyes again, but a series of boxes - her potions - blocked her view; they were already preparing to leave, taking the potions with them. She was losing consciousness again and felt like screaming for her son, needed to know where he was, if he was okay.

And it was with these desperate thoughts that she plunged into the gloom of unconsciousness once again.

Ginny woke up completely with James's little arms wrapped around her and his face on her stomach. He sobbed painfully and, upon hearing it, she almost sobbed with him.

"It's okay, my love. Mum is here. I'll always be here." She said in a husky, tired voice, trying to calm James, who was crying profusely.

She looked at her boy's wrists, which seemed to be almost raw. She had never seen a spell like that. Against a child nonetheless! She sat up with difficulty, putting James on her lap, rocking him like she did when he was still a baby.

"James, look at me." She lifted the boy's face with a light touch on his chin. His bright green eyes were swollen and shiny with tears falling down his face. "I promise nobody will hurt or scare you like that again, never again. Do you hear me?"

James looked much younger than his six years when he answered quietly. "I know you're going to protect me, mum." He stifled his face against her lap, as if embarrassed by his next statement. "I just don't want to be afraid anymore."

She held him tighter to her.

"You won't. I promise."

In that very day she had been humiliated, had suffered from an Unforgivable Curse, had been beaten, shamelessly stolen. But nothing had hurt her more than seeing her son in that state.

She sat there with James glued to her for a long time, until the boy fell asleep in her lap.

When the day dawned completely, Ginevra of Woodcroft had already outlined an ambitious plan. A dangerous one.

A plan Ginny Weasley would surely reprove with all her might.

However, if everything went as she wanted, James and her would be protected.

And that was the only thing that had always mattered.

N/A: Thank you for all comments in the last chapter! I don't even know how to thank you all, really! You're the best!