Four years later, May 2001...

Harry had just arrived back home at Grimmauld place after an exhausting day at the Ministry. He was removing his robes when he heard laughter coming from the dining room.

"What do you mean she's gone?" he heard Ginny balk.

"I mean she—oh, hi Harry," smiled Hermione, who was seated at the table.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Luna's run off to America!"

Hermione threw her hands in the air with defeat. "Apparently something about baby Twintil's hatching in Colorado!"

"You must be joking!" chuckled Harry. "What's a Twintil?"

"I don't know and I don't want to know. I can't believe she'd just take off two nights before her wedding! She better be back on time for the ceremony this weekend."

Ginny shook her head in disbelief. "Don't get me wrong, I love Luna but she is absolutely bonkers sometimes."

"I think we might have a bigger problem," said Harry, pulling the chair out. A plate of food magically appeared before him. "It's about the case," he said, looking at Hermione. "Tomorrow morning you'll receive a request to report to the Ministry for questioning."

Hermione's grip on her utensils tightened. "No," she said. "Absolutely not. I refuse."

"It's not me who's asking, it's the Ministry and when I say request… it's actually more of a polite order—besides if you don't go, it's going to look suspicious."

"Suspicious!" spat Ginny angrily. "Suspicious of what? They can't possibly think Hermione had something to do with all this!"

Harry looked down into his plate and toyed with his food.

"Harry James Potter," his fiancé scolded, folding her arms. "You tell us what's going on right this minute."

"But I—"

"I don't care if you're not actually allowed to 'talk about ongoing investigations', Hermione deserves to know!"

He began wriggling in his seat.

"We haven't been able to find any evidence to link Malfoy to the murder except for the mark. It's not enough to go on—"

Hermione's lips pulled taut across her face in an unnatural smile. "Funny," she tittered. "I recall hearing that somewhere before—oh right, that was me."

"Well, I still think it could be him," Harry blurted.

Hermione sighed in exasperation, dropping her fork onto the plate with a harsh clang.

"Not that it matters," he added quickly. "Ron and I are no longer in charge of the investigation. Things have escalated since we last spoke. The UNSC have got word of this and they've sent some people in."

"UNSC?" asked Ginny cocking an eyebrow.

"Muggles," supplied Hermione. "The UNSC is the United Nations Security Council. Why would Muggles be involved in this?"

"They don't trust the wizarding world to handle our own affairs anymore and Kingsley can't afford to have bad blood with the Muggle governments right now. Not after how quickly the Ministry fell to Voldemort."

"Well, what do they want with Hermione?" demanded Ginny, slapping her hand against the table. "You three saved the wizarding world! She's a bonafide heroine—and this is how Kingsley thanks her!"

Hermione cringed at Ginny's use of the word heroine.

"It's not as if I know who did it," she muttered.

"Clearly they think you do," argued Harry. Looking at Hermione pointedly, he said, "And frankly if they're calling you in, they must have evidence of some kind."

Hermione paled. "Evidence?" she rasped. "What evidence!"

"I don't know," said Harry. "Look, I've spoken to Kingsley. I can be present for the interview. I'll be right there with you—"

Hermione pursed her lips, her face crimson with fury. The chair made the most awful scraping noise as she jerked it back and stood abruptly. She grabbed her cardigan and handbag in a fluster, muttering something Harry couldn't quite catch under her breath.

"Sweetie, wait," pleaded Ginny.

As soon as the door banged closed, she spun around. "Harry do something!"

"I'm an Auror. I have a job—!"

"Bugger your job!" she yelled back. "You have a duty to your friend—"

Right, thought Harry, it's my turn to storm off.

"Nice try," Ginny teased, "but you live here!"

Harry continued to trudge up the stairs and she followed him till they were both in their bedroom. Closing the door behind them she began softly, "I know you're in a difficult position but I'm worried for her. Do you think she might actually be involved somehow?"

He let out a heavy sigh and sank down onto the bed. "I don't know," he admitted. "I was convinced Malfoy was responsible, I felt it in my gut, like I just knew, but maybe Hermione's right…"

"Okay," huffed Ginny pacing the room. "Let's play Devil's Advocate. Let's assume Draco Malfoy is alive and he killed Corban Yaxley—"

"But how?" interrupted Harry angrily. This had been one of the many questions to which the answer always eluded him. "Greyback's testimony holds. He admitted to having hit him with a severing charm and then kicked him off the edge of a cliff and into the Atlantic Ocean. He was under veritaserum and he had no reason to lie."

"What if he wasn't lying?" challenged Ginny. "What if Greyback did do those things, but what if Malfoy survived?"

"He was bleeding out. He had no wand. And Hermione herself corroborated that he didn't know how to swim well. The fall alone—"

"Harry, you've escaped death several times. You've survived the killing curse twice. Besides, they never found his body. The Ministry couldn't find him, his mother couldn't find him, Hermione couldn't find him, but maybe he's been living off the map, in some isolated cabin—"

"What did you just say?"

"He's hiding in a small cabin in the middle of—"

"No, before that!" said Harry dashing out of the room before Ginny could get another word out. He ran back in just as quickly with a piece of folded parchment in his hand.

"Malfoy was off the map! He didn't show up on the Marauders map—!"

"Harry, slow down!"

"I'd forgotten till now!" he said excitedly, shaking the map in her face. "I can't believe I'd forgotten! I was trying to look for Malfoy on the Marauders Map during sixth year but I could never find him!"

Ginny took him roughly by his shoulders and pushed him down to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Rewind," she said calmly. "I thought you could never find him because he was always going into the Room of Requirement."

Harry shook his head quickly, doing his best not to jolt back up.

"At one point, he didn't show up on the map at all. That's never happened before. Even Peter Pettigrew appeared on the map when he was in his animagus form. I always assumed he had done something to the map but what if he didn't? What if he'd cloaked himself somehow? What if that's the reason no one can find him —why Hermione's tracking spell never worked?"

Ginny looked unconvinced. "Is that even possible? It sounds like complicated magic."

But Harry couldn't stop. He felt like he'd finally found an important piece of the puzzle and that maybe, by having this one piece, the rest would fall into place like dominos.

"At the age of sixteen, Malfoy had learned the imperius curse, he'd used it on Madam Rosmerta, he was a skilled Occlumens and he was clever enough to figure out how to bring Death Eaters into Hogwarts!"

"Still," she shrugged. "To go through all that trouble, just to hide from you on the map?"

"No!" he all but yelled. "It never had anything to do with hiding from me or the map—or at least, not just the map. He had planned to go into hiding, to disappear. Everyone knows what happened to Karkaroff when he was eventually found. Malfoy must have cloaked himself—somehow!"

Ginny's eyes grew wide. "And that's the reason Hermione's tracking spell ended at the cliff."

Harry slid off the bed and onto his knees, crouching to reach for something under the bed.

"What are you—? That's where you've been hiding your case files!" she yelled as he stood back up.

He adjusted his glasses nervously. "Well you-you never clean under there."

With a roll of her eyes, she put out her hand. "Let me look."

He blinked at her and adjusted his glasses again. "Technically these are classified."

Ginny sighed, giving him a sad smile. "Harry… in fifth year when you tried telling everyone that Voldemort was back, no one believed you, in sixth year when you tried telling everyone that Malfoy was a Death Eater, no one believed you. But if you're telling me, that against all odds, against all logic, that Draco Malfoy is alive and he was responsible for the murder of Corban Yaxley, I'll not only believe you, I'll help you prove it."

Harry wore an incredulous expression on his face, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. "That's true," he said slowly. "This is like my bloody childhood all over again," he yelled throwing his hands into the air in exasperation. "Well, I'll show those bastards!"

Ginny frowned. "Language, Harry!"

"Honestly, Gin," he said with adoration in his voice, "How did I ever get to be so lucky to—"

"Yeah okay, now give me the file," she said, snatching it from his hand.

"Hey," he pouted. "You tricked me."

"It's for your own good."

Harry watched as Ginny rifled through the files impatiently and thought about taking them back from her. But he knew he'd already told her too much and decided that there was no going back now. Besides, she was the only person who was willing to listen to him at this point. Kingsley had said that it had been his mistake, he'd been the one to jump the gun by assuming Malfoy was back and while Ron had done what he could, he'd come back from New York empty-handed. Everyone was now saying it was a copy-cat or someone else with a vendetta against Yaxley.

He began getting ready for bed instead, turning things over in his mind as he ran the taps for a shower.

"The first murders," Ginny shouted to him over the running water, "they weren't marked?"

"No," he called out.

Some time later, Harry emerged from the bathroom. Ginny was on the floor, parchment splayed across the floor and she didn't even glance up as he came to sit next to her. His eyes gravitated unintentionally to a particularly gruesome crime scene photo. He picked it up, unable to look away.

Ginny sighed, noticing which picture he'd been staring at.

"I know Malfoy was always a bit of a bully but I can't believe the person who did this was the same spoiled daddy's boy we grew up with in Hogwarts… I can't imagine what drove him to this."

I can, thought Harry sadly. Because he knew what it felt like once Voldemort had fixated on you and in a way he considered it worse for Draco. To have to pretend to venerate him, to bend to his will, to do things, despicable things and to be told if he didn't do them, his parents would pay the price... Eventually one of them did.

He turned and stared at the woman who would soon be his wife. He thought of how fiercely they'd grown to love each other and wondered how he would react if he was made to torture her.

Harry gulped. "I don't want there to be any secrets between us, Gin."

Concern flashed across her face.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to finally tell Ginny a secret he had sworn to Hermione he would never reveal.

"Bellatrix never tortured Hermione," he explained softly. "She made Draco do it. Said he needed to learn. To practice."

"What?"

"Voldemort—" he spat the name out like it was a curse. "Had been impressed by Draco's achievements and equally unimpressed when he was told he tried to stop Snape from casting the killing curse on Dumbledore. Apparently, he'd ordered Bellatrix to train him and report his progress."

Ginny's face fell. "Oh Merlin, no…"

"Ron and I, we were in the cellar but we could hear everything… Hermione forbade any of us from speaking about it, even Dobby."

"So the scar on Hermione's arm?" she asked, a slight tremble in her voice.

Harry nodded mutely.

"How could he?" she said, angry tears forming in her eyes.

"He didn't have a choice Gin… not really… I think Hermione understood that. When he refused Bellatrix accused him of being a Mudblood Lover and suggested Greyback do it… I think… I think him doing it, in a way, was a mercy…"

There were red hot, angry tears running down her face.

"It makes sense now," murmured Ginny. "What he did to them; his reasons..." She noticed the tightening of Harry's face and knew he was about to pounce on her for suggesting that what Malfoy had done was reasonable. "—and I don't mean that what he did was right," she defended, "only that, the marks, they make sense now, or at least more sense. In his mind—after everything he went through—after what Bellatrix made him do to her. This, to him, it wasn't revenge... it was justice, balancing the scales."

One by one, Harry gathered the crime scene photos off the floor, his eyes dancing over them. He remembered the desperation with which Draco had wanted to protect his mother and father, to protect Hermione; remembered the apparent fear and regret on his face at the Manor when they were brought there and the dead expression in his eyes before they'd escaped.

"No," whispered Harry looking at the bloody letters on Dolohov's forearm.

M L

"This was his way of showing love. It was redemption."

"Murder isn't love," Ginny choked.

"In all fairness to Malfoy, after spending months living under the same roof as Voldemort, maybe it is..."

They were both quiet. Voicing the truth about what had happened at the Manor had left a cold draft in the room, a heavy sorrow that was getting worse by reliving the aftermath of that night, of delving into Draco's fractured mind and trying to understand.

"These initial deaths were opportunistic… impulsive… sloppy," said Ginny finally breaking the silence, "but whoever killed Corban Yaxley was patient… calculating. This was planned perfectly. A statis charm was cast on the body, which means you don't have an exact time of death. No evidence. No witnesses. No nothing. If it weren't for the mark, there'd be nothing to tie him to the murder."

"Yeah, and Ron got back from New York this morning. He doesn't even think Yaxley was killed in the building where his body was found. There were no signs of a duel or a struggle. He thinks the body was brought there afterward and left there to be found…"

Ginny's eyes were focused, staring hard at a point over Harry's shoulder. "Draco never bothered to cover up the murders before. He wanted them to be found. He wanted Voldemort to know."

"He wanted Hermione to know," he said pointedly.

"So, why?" she mused softly, "I'm Draco Malfoy. I kill Corban Yaxley and then mark him, so everyone thinks I've done it, but then I also go through the trouble of moving the body, of covering my tracks to make it look like someone else did it... Why? To distract the MLE? To give myself time to disappear again?"

Harry's brow furrowed. It didn't sound right. If Malfoy had wanted to stay invisible, he could've killed Corban Yaxley quietly and disposed of the body where it couldn't be found. But he had brought it to a specific place and left it for Muggles to find, for the MACUSA to find, he knew he'd get a headline in the Daily Prophet, he knew it'd become an international scandal and that Kingsley would be put under pressure to make an arrest.

"Who else are they calling in for questioning?" asked Ginny, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, trying to recall who else had been on the list. "His mother obviously… Snape, the Zabini's and Nott."

"Was there a reason you never suspected Mrs. Malfoy? After all, your vic did kill her husband."

"Your vic?"

Ginny winked. "Didn't think I knew the lingo, did you?"

"Right," he laughed. "Well, we did consider it but Severus can vouch for her the night of the murder. In fact, a few dozen people can. It was on a Saturday night and they'd both gone for dinner. So unless Snape is covering for her AND she forced someone to take polyjuice and pose as her at the restaurant, it couldn't have been her…"

"Flimsy alibi though, isn't it?"

Harry shrugged. "I suppose… with the stasis charm on the body, we were able to narrow it down to a two-hour window. But it would've still been quite difficult for her to do that."

Stretching her arms up over her head she let out a loud yawn.

"Enough detecting," he smiled, putting everything away. "I want to spend the rest of the night holding my wife."

"I'm not your wife yet," she teased, giving him a light kiss on the corner of his lips.

Harry grinned, his fingers tracing the freckles on her face as he pulled her closer and kissed her. "Wife," he murmured against her lips. "You're going to be my wife."

Ginny smiled, unlatching herself from him and disappeared into the bathroom. In the time she took to change into her pajamas, Harry had fallen half asleep.

"You know what's strange," he heard Ginny whisper into the dark. "Corban Yaxley killed Fred but no one is questioning us."

"The mark," Harry murmured. "It ties the murder to someone Draco was close to."

"Oh, right..."

While Harry was touching the seams of a dream, another piece fell into place and he was one step closer to the full truth.

A/N: Hi fellow readers. So I just wanted to clarify that the time jumps are now over and we're in May 2001 for the rest of the story. Also, the comments are becoming really heated. Please don't hate on any of my characters. Even the best of us can be fallible and I am completely against slut-shaming. I know these last chapters have been very intense and shocking. If you're confused, that's good, because I meant to do that. It will all make sense very soon (hopefully lol). We're nearly there! I'm going to try and have this fic complete before December since it's Christmas :D I wanted to say thank you to my beta tiffywa for holding my hand through my first angry reviews.