Author's Note: Note that this is part of the H/G ending.

Chapter 29: Meaning (Ending 1)

Harry met Malfoy's hard stare for a full five seconds. Then the man looked away and exhaled heavily. Harry kept his eyes trained on his face, searching it for signs of deception. He was here for the truth, and he was going to make bloody well sure he got it.

"You're an idiot, Potter," Draco said finally.

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, but Malfoy's eyes flicked back up to meet his warningly, and he swallowed a retort.

Malfoy exhaled heavily once more and fixed his gaze on a spot on the desk before him, and Harry knew that whatever he was about to admit, it was difficult to say aloud. Harry found that his whole body was tensed.

"You say that it's impossible to be in love with Ginny and then to cheat on her, but it's not that simple. Everything is always so black and white for you, isn't it, Potter?" he said, smiling wryly. "I'm sure it's awfully convenient, but it makes you about as perceptive as a one-eyed mountain troll."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Is there a point to this little tangent?"

Draco smirked, but the expression faded in a moment to be replaced by a strange mixture of fierceness and thoughtfulness and something else inscrutable. He looked up to meet Harry's gaze head-on. "The point is, Potter," he said, "just because I was love with her doesn't mean that when I saw you naked in her bed I didn't want to hurt her. Because I did. I thought we were already over, and I wanted…I don't know, revenge, payback…the satisfaction of knowing that she wasn't the only one who could sleep with someone else."

"So you slept with Parkinson," Harry said slowly.

Draco nodded. A short jerk of the head, and despite himself, Harry felt a sharp pang of triumph. Malfoy turned his gaze back to the desk and continued to speak.

Three years earlier

Anger flashed in Pansy's eyes and she glared back at him. "You should know better than to try to marry for love," she hissed derisively, "When has that ever worked?"

Fierceness flared between them like a charge, and Draco felt a vengeful impulse grip his chest. Ginny had been sleeping with Potter, probably for months, and had betrayed their relationship with a sweet smile on her face and lies on her lips. It would be easy – almost too easy, he thought – to get her back. He looked down at Parkinson's lips, moist and slightly parted, inches away.

It would be so easy.

In one swift movement, he bent his head and pressed his lips violently against hers.

She immediately arched against him and her arm wrapped around him, the palm of her hand pressing hard against the back of his neck. The edges of her long nails scraped a little against his skin, and Draco winced against her mouth. She pulled away for a moment and raised her eyebrows, a challenging gleam in her eyes.

"You used to like it this rough," she smirked. "Don't tell me little Miss Weasley made you go all soft and gooey and romantic."

"Shut up, Parkinson," he growled, ignoring the fact that she was right. Sex with Ginny had been passionate as hell, but there had always been an undercurrent of tenderness. He scowled. Damnit, he didn't want to think about that. Because, right now, when he pictured Ginny in bed, he wasn't the one she was sleeping with.

Pansy laughed a little, pulling him down to kiss her again. "She was too…good for you, Draco," she murmured against his lips. "And you should take that as a compliment."

"Not good enough," he observed wryly, tightening his grip on her arms and pushing her toward the bed. "Now will you please just stoptalking about Ginny Weasley."

She smiled wickedly. "Whatever you want, Draco. Whatever you want."

After, Draco lay on his back, staring dully at the ceiling. Wasn't he supposed to feel triumphant? Vindicated? He'd felt the heady rush of revenge before, but all he felt now was a thick layer of self-disgust settling in his stomach.

Pansy had wrapped the sheet around herself and when she rolled to face him, Draco caught a momentary spark of self-satisfaction cross her expression. A pang of anxiety gripped him.

"What was that?" he said sharply.

"What?" she asked.

"Don't play coy, Parkinson," he snapped. "That look."

She smiled and sat up, holding the sheet to her chest with one hand and reaching up with the other to run her fingers through her horribly mussed hair. "I always knew I was stupid to leave you for Adrian," she replied. "I barely even liked him, and he wasn't half so good in bed." She leaned toward him and met his eyes. "I know I'm your friend, Draco," she said softly, "And I really ought to be sad that you're hurt. But I can't pretend I'm not happy you broke up with the Weasley girl."

Draco was too stunned to speak, and he just stared at her as she smiled coolly and stood. "I'm going to shower," she said lightly, and she disappeared around the corner.

Draco sat up straight, his mind racing. He heard the water start running the loo, and he pushed himself out of bed, trying to focus on getting his clothes back on. He stood before the mirror, straightening his collar and staring blankly at his reflection. How the hell had he gotten here? A week ago he had been working up the courage to ask Ginny to marry him, and now…. He clenched his fists in frustration. Now Ginny was with Potter and he had fallen back into bed with Pansy. There had been a time – it felt like ages ago now – when he had thought that a combative relationship with Pansy was all he wanted. But he had never loved her – he knew that now – not the way he had loved Ginny...before all this.

There was a loud knock on the door, and Draco tore himself from his thoughts. He gave a last sigh of frustration before crossing the room to open it. His stomach clenched in anger when his eyes locked with Ginny's. How the hell had she found him?

"Please don't slam the door in my face!" she said quickly, and he had to restrain himself from doing just that.

"What the hell do you want, Ginny?" he said harshly. "I thought I made it clear that I don't want to hear whatever you have to say."

She launched into a string of excuses, but far from appeasing him, the pleading look on her face only made the anger rise into his throat. "I don't want to hear it," he snapped. How stupid did she think he was? He clenched his fists to keep from shaking her.

"Draco! Do you have an extra towel? I can't find one! Oh!" He watched Ginny's face blanch, and he turned to see Pansy standing in the middle of the room, pushing her wet hair from her face and holding her dress around her naked body.

He whirled back to face Ginny, and at the pained look on her face he felt the slightest shadow of that heady rush of revenge he'd been hoping for. "Ginny….," he began, feeling a mean smirk beginning on the corners of his lips.

But suddenly she reached up and slapped him hard across the face. "Don't!" His cheek was stinging fiercely, and he felt shocked anger rush back into him.

"You're going to pull that devastated girlfriend act on me?" he said, voice rising into a yell. He barked out a mirthless laugh. "Don't you dare pretend you didn't already destroy this!"

He could see her chest beginning to heave with sobs, and he could tell from the pink tinge forming at her cheeks that she was desperately trying to suppress tears. He felt fear settle in his stomach. Something wasn't right. Somewhere, he had miscalculated.

"Don't try to put this on me!" she shouted. "I was just going to tell you that I let Harry sleep in my bed because he was sick! I was just going to tell you that I slept on the bloody sofa! I was just going to tell you that nothing happened – that nothing has ever happened between us! I was going to tell you that I love you, and that this…." he watched with mounting horror as she pushed her fist deep into her pocket and pulled out the velvet box. His hands went out reflexively to catch it as she thrust it at him. "…Is a beautiful ring. And I was going to tell you that if you had asked me, I would have said yes!"

He felt his throat tighten and he let out an involuntary groan. What had he done? "You destroyed us!" Her words were pounding against his skull so clearly that he knew he would never forget them.

She was staring up at him now, clear tears sitting at the edges of her eyes and threatening to spill over. He suppressed the reflex to brush them away, and felt a sharp pang. The reason he had to suppress the reflex to touch her was because he didn't have that right anymore. Not with Pansy naked in the room behind him. Instead, his fingers just twitched at his side. What had he done?

"You know," she said finally, her voice laced with malice, "everyone told me I was crazy to date you. They told me I should be with Harry, that he was right for me. But I defended you – I told them that you were just as noble, just as good as him. But you know what, Draco, I was wrong. Because Harry would never have done something like this."

The words were like a punch in the stomach, and Draco dug his fingers hard into the doorframe to keep himself upright. A sharp defiance swelled inside him, pushing the pain aside. He glared at her, eyes flashing with anger. He'd made a terrible mistake, he knew that. But after everything they had been through, everything they had meant to each other, she was going to reduce their relationship to that old trope?

"Go running back to him then, if he's so much better than me," he snapped harshly, ignoring the fact that tears were streaming down her face. Perfect Saint Potter could comfort her now, for all he cared.

"It's over, Draco," she hissed.

"You know what, Ginny?" he replied. "I think you're right about that."

And he slammed the door in her face.

"You're an idiot, Malfoy," Harry said, mirroring Draco's earlier words.

"I don't need you to tell me that, Potter," Draco returned, shooting him a glare. "And it didn't take you long to capitalize on my mistake, I'm sure," he said wryly.

"Four months," Harry responded shortly. "She was a mess, you know," he added, unable to keep the accusatory tone out of his voice.

Malfoy scowled at him. "I'm not proud, if that's what you're getting at."

"How long were you with Parkinson?" Harry asked.

"We were never together," Draco responded. "After what happened, I could hardly look at her, let alone…."

Harry nodded. They were silent for a moment.

Then, Draco looked up again, a fierce expression on his face. "I loved Ginny, and it was more real than any other relationship I've ever had. Hell, I think I'm still a little in love with her," he added. He laughed as he said it, but Harry saw the momentary flash that crossed his eyes. Regret. So he wasn't the only one who couldn't get over Ginny Weasley.

"I didn't know what I was doing – what I was destroying – when I slept with Parkinson, but that doesn't change the fact that I did it."

Harry nodded again. "And she'll never forgive you. She's not the kind of girl who can forget something like that," he said. He knew it sounded harsh, but Malfoy didn't even flinch. They both knew it was true.

Draco sat back in his chair and regarded Harry appraisingly. "So, Potter," he said lightly. "Are you going to tell me why you're really here?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair. How much did he really want to confide in Malfoy? He wouldn't put it past the man to try to sabotage him somehow, even now. He didn't trust him. But Malfoy had been honest with him, he could tell, and what did he have to lose anyway? They'd established that Draco had destroyed his relationship with Ginny so thoroughly that it would never be repaired.

He met the man's cool stare. "I want her back," he said directly.

Draco's eyes flashed, but Harry didn't look away.

"But there's always been this nagging question in the back of my mind – even while I was with her – about what she had with you. And when I found out you had proposed…I needed to know exactly what happened. I needed to know that she wouldn't be happier with you."

"And now you know," Malfoy said dryly.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "Now I know."

"So now all you need to do is quit your suicidal job and she'll fall right back into your arms, is that it?"

"That's the hope," Harry answered.

Draco looked at him fiercely for a full second, and Harry's hand twitched a little apprehensively beside his wand pocket. But then Malfoy did something unexpected. He laughed.

"You're a right git, Potter," he said. "Coming here to tell me that you're about to get what I can't have."

Harry breathed a little sigh of relief. He hadn't wanted this to get physical. He stood. "I'm sorry about that," he said.

"No you're not," Malfoy returned.

Harry just nodded shortly. "You're right. I'm not," he quipped. He moved toward the door.

Just as his hand closed around the doorknob, Malfoy spoke. "She deserves to be happy, Potter," he said, and now his voice was serious. Harry turned back to face him and saw that Draco had stood to watch him go. "And if you can make her happy, then the least I can do is wish you luck. That's the least I can do for her. So good luck."

Harry's eyes widened a little in surprise. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"But I swear to Merlin," Malfoy continued. "If you break her heart again I will personally hunt you down, and you'll get more than a punch in the jaw."

"I think if I muck it up again, Ginny will take care of that herself," Harry replied.

Malfoy smiled at that. "Too true."

And with a last short nod, Harry left the office.

The door of the file room burst open. "What the hell is this?"

Harry turned slowly on his heel as a red-faced, wide-eyed Ron slapped a sheet of paper down on the desk in the center of the room. He glanced down, but he didn't have to read it to know what it was. He was only mildly surprised that Kingsley had sent out the memo so quickly.

He met Ron's eyes. "I quit active duty. I'm going into training instead."

Ron glared at him. "I can see that, Harry!" he said, but then his brow furrowed with sudden understanding, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer. "For Ginny?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded, holding his gaze. "For Ginny."

Ron nodded slowly. "Does this have anything to do with your little secret meeting this afternoon? Wilms is putting it around that you had a hot date...but I assume…?"

"I went to see Malfoy," Harry explained, turning away to finish storing his file.

"Malfoy?" Ron said incredulously, obviously having expected something else.

"I needed to know that it actually ended between them."

"Of course it actually ended," Ron replied.

"Ended the way he said it did," Harry explained, turning back to Ron's puzzled expression.

Ron shook himself. "Fine. Whatever," he said. "She might not take you back, you know," he said, meeting Harry's eyes with a hard look.

"I know that, but you know I have to try."

"When are you going to see her?" Ron asked.

"Right now. I just had to file all of my open cases."

Ron narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. "You're serious about this? You're going to leave all of those cases to someone else and go into training the newbies? You're going to give up all of the missions and all of the arrests? You really think you can put your nobility complex aside?"

Harry didn't blink. In fact, he felt the corners of his mouth turn up at that. "Yeah, Ron, I'm serious. Some things are more important."

Ron held his gaze searchingly for a moment, then nodded sharply. He produced a quill from the inside of his robes and scribbled a few short lines on the back of Kingsley's memo. "Here's her address," he said. He glanced at his watch. "She should be getting home around now."

Harry crossed the room and gave Ron a quick pat on the shoulder as he went to the door. "Thanks, mate," he said.

"Don't screw it up, Harry," Ron added sternly. Harry paused in the doorway. "I've watched you two muck each other around too many times, and Merlin knows it's not always your fault. But she's my sister, and she's moved on, and if you screw it up, there will be plenty of angry men ready to knock the stuffing out of you."

Harry smiled wryly. "So I've heard." He'd been getting a lot of that today.

He glanced down at the scrap of paper tucked into his palm and looked back up at the road before him. This was it. The street was wide and lined with trees. Even though they were bare now, Harry could tell they must keep the street comfortably shady during the summer. He made his way down to the third building. The outer door to the lobby was locked, and Harry looked around for a moment before spotting the grey speaker box on the wall a few inches to the right of the door. Ginny's name was listed next to the button labeled "Flat Three."

Harry took a deep breath. Past the pounding of his heart in his chest, he felt a tiny pinprick of amusement. For the past two years he'd faced desperate Death Eaters and made dozens of arrests, but facing Ginny Weasley now was more frightening than any of that.

He pressed the button and a harsh buzz sounded, and then her voice filtered out through the speaker. "Hello? Hello? Damn, is this thing working? I'm sorry, I've never quite figured out how to use this thing…can you hear me?"

Harry couldn't help but grin. "Ginny? It's Harry," he said, chuckling a little.

The speaker was silent, and his grin faded as quickly as it had appeared.

Finally she spoke. She sounded polite, but Harry could just make out the edge of wariness in her tone. "Harry?"

He swallowed. "Is it okay that I'm here?" he answered.

Another long pause. Then, a little hesitantly, "Sure it is. Why don't you come up?"

She buzzed him in and he took the stairs two at a time, going over what he was going to say in his head, trying to organize his points.

She was standing in her doorway when he got to the third floor landing. She had pulled her hair back into a ponytail and changed into loose-fitting jeans and was chewing her bottom lip. She smiled as he came up to her.

"This is actually really convenient," she said, "I have a bottle of wine I'm about to open."

"So I'm roped into the drinking committee, am I?" Harry replied.

"Price of entry," she answered, standing back to let him inside. She was masking her earlier wariness so effectively that Harry was sure anyone else wouldn't have been able to see it. But he could tell it was still there, lingering just below the surface.

"Excellent," he said, grinning. "I can't believe I've never been here," he added, surveying the room as she shut the door behind them. "You've been here, what? Three months?"

The living room was small and cozy. There was a lively fire in the grate and a comfortable-looking sofa and armchair were ringed by stacks of books. Ginny wasn't a neat person, and old Prophets and used glasses and mugs dotted the room, but it felt homey somehow.

"Ever since I left Hogwarts," she said. "So yeah, nearly three months." Her tone was light, and Harry knew that they were both studiously not observing that it had been years since they had been alone together.

"I should've brought you a flat-warming gift or something," he said, "Sorry."

She waved her hand. "Don't worry about it."

They looked at each other for a moment, but just as Harry had managed to swallow the blockage in his throat and opened his mouth to speak, she turned away and crossed to the kitchen. She held up the bottle and shook it significantly, smiling.

"It was a gift from Hermione when I got the new job," she said, pouring two glasses and holding one out to him.

"Any good?"

"Let's find out." She took a sip and made a face. Harry laughed.

"That bad?"

"She said she did all the research and learned that this is the best wine for a congratulatory gift," Ginny said incredulously, surveying the bottle label.

Harry took a sip and coughed. "Did she taste it?" he sputtered.

Ginny laughed aloud and crossed back past him to settle on the armchair. "Unlikely," she said. "Why bother? Research never lies, after all."

Harry grinned and sat down on the sofa.

"So," she said politely. "How's work?"

Harry took another bitter sip of wine, put it deliberately down on the coffee table, and met her eyes. "I'm changing jobs, actually," he said.

She blinked. "To what?"

"I'm going to be training new recruits. I've left active duty."

She held his gaze searchingly, and Harry knew she had understood the significance of what he was saying. "When did all this happen?" she asked slowly.

"Today," he answered shortly. His heart was hammering heard in his chest. He managed to keep his facial expression neutral, but he was gripping the armrest hard in his right hand.

"Why?" she said finally.

He willed himself not to take his eyes from hers. He had waited too long – far too long – to get to this moment. "I miss you, Gin," he said softly, and it was both the answer to her question and one of the most honest statements he'd ever made.

His chest tightened as she hesitated. Merlin…what if this was a huge mistake? What if she didn't feel anything for him anymore? What if he had seriously miscalculated?

"It's been two years, Harry," she replied finally.

He gripped the armchair even harder than before. "Two years too long," he replied earnestly. "I screwed up, Ginny. I chose wrong, and it's taken me two years too long to realize it."

With one swift movement, she pushed herself out of the armchair and paced to the fireplace, leaning her arm on the mantelpiece with her back to him. "Bloody hell, Harry," she murmured, pressing her forehead against the wood. "What are you trying to do to me?"

"I made a huge mistake, Gin, and now I'm just trying to be honest with you, Gin," he replied.

"Honesty was never your problem, Harry," she replied, and he could hear the slightest tinge of frustration in her voice.

He barreled on. This wasn't the time for half-measures. It was all or nothing. "I never meant to hurt you, Ginny…."

She whirled to face her, her eyes blazing. "It doesn't take malice to hurt someone, Harry," she snapped.

That silenced him. He felt his heart constrict. This had just been another mistake…she wasn't going to forgive him. He could see it in the tenseness of her shoulders and the hard set of her jaw. But he forced himself to look straight into her eyes anyway. He was going to say it and walk away, and then she would know and that could be the end of it.

"I'm sorry – so sorry – for picking everything else over you. Because if there's one thing that I've finally learned," he laughed mirthlessly, "it's that if you love something – really love something and you lose it, then everything else is meaningless. And I still love you, Ginny. Never stopped and probably never will."

The anger faded from her eyes, but she still didn't move from her place by the mantel. Finally, after five seconds that felt like an eternity, he looked away and began to stand. "But you don't owe me anything. So I'll just…I'll just go."

"Wait."

He froze and looked back up at her as she crossed the small room and sat beside him. She pressed a hand gently on his shoulder to press him back down onto the sofa.

"Wait," she repeated, and he just nodded. He realized he was holding his breath.

She was looking down at her lap, her brow furrowed in thought. Finally, she looked up again. Her expression was set in determination. "You have to promise me that this is for real," she said seriously. "You have to promise that you won't run back to active duty as soon as things are all great and dandy again."

She waited for him to nod in assent.

"Because I swear to Merlin, Harry, if you put me through this again, I don't know what I'll do," she added harshly.

"Never again," he said softly, trying not to let the well of hope springing up inside him to get ahead of the conversation.

She paused for a moment, searching his eyes, and then she exhaled heavily. She leaned forward until her forehead was resting against his chest. "I've missed you too, Harry," she whispered.

Harry felt a relief so strong that it was almost pain rush through him, and raised his arms to wrap them around her, but suddenly she pulled away.

"Tomorrow night," she said, meeting his eyes with a light smile playing around her lips, "you're going to take me out on a proper date. Dinner. Dancing. Romantic walk in the moonlight."

Harry grinned. "Done."

"And…," she looked at him speculatively and then folded her legs beneath her to raise herself up on the sofa. He blinked in confusion. Then she lowered her lips to his in a soft kiss. "Good," she said with a satisfied smirk as she pulled away.

"What?"

"You're still a fantastic kisser."

Harry laughed aloud. "Any more tests you'd like me to pass?" he asked.

"Just one," she answered.

"And what would that be?"

She smiled cheekily. "Win me back, Harry Potter."

He bent his head, and before she could say another word, he pressed his lips against hers in a searing kiss. When he pulled away she looked a little daze, and he grinned. "I intend to."

Author's Note: I know a lot of hardcore D/G shippers swore they wouldn't read this ending, so I'd love it if those of you who did read it could review and tell me what you think!