July 2nd 1997

As soon as they arrived back at Potter Manor, Ginny disappeared in the direction of the Quidditch Pitch.

Although she didn't say anything, Draco flinched as though she had shouted (and maybe she had) and vanished in the direction of the stairs.

"What happened?" Hermione asked again.

Jen sighed. "It's not my place to say, Hermione – they found something out, that's all."

According to Gringotts, we're already married.

Excuse me? Remus asked, actually turning to look at her, something they rarely did when they were talking like this.

You heard me. They abide by the Old Laws, which – duh – of course they do, why didn't I think of that?

"I'm going to check on Ginny," Jen said aloud. "And then I'm going to talk to Arthur about letting them stay here."

It didn't take long to find Ginny. Jen had assumed that she'd need to get her own broom and chase the girl down, but she found her sitting on the pitch, rhythmically pulling up handfuls of grass.

"I'm okay," she said as Jen approached.

"First of all, no you're not," Jen said. "Second of all, if you don't want to talk about it, it's fine. I'm going to talk to your parents about letting you and Ron stay here – do you …?"

"No," Ginny said immediately, looking up at her with wide eyes. "Please don't tell them."

Jen chuckled. "I wasn't going to tell them, Ginny. I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me."

Ginny shook her head. "Thanks, but Mum probably won't let me come back if I do. When you get back, could you tell Hermione and Harry for me please?"

"Of course." Jen squeezed the girl's shoulder and made her way to the edge of the wards, where she could disapparate to The Burrow.

As conversations went, it was a difficult one. Molly cried and protested, Jen attempted to remain as calm as possible, and finally Arthur weighed in.

"Ron and Ginny won't stay out of it," he said firmly. "If Jen can help them stay alive, then I will be forever grateful."

Molly rounded on her husband, giving Jen a momentary reprieve. "And what about this … this … soul bond that Ginny …"

"Keeping them apart is not going to make it go away," Arthur said, a steely note entering his voice.

"Yes, but to have them in the same house …" Molly began.

"I hope you are not suggesting," Jen interrupted, allowing the pureblood iciness she was raised with to bleed into her voice, "that I am incapable of preventing two teenagers from sneaking around behind my back."

Molly faltered, the wind taken out of her sails.

"This soul bond would have formed eventually," Jen continued, "but it is to Ginny and Draco's disadvantage that it has formed so early. They haven't had a chance to figure out their relationship before the bond and now this has fallen in their laps. The only thing they can be sure of right now is that the other person will never hurt them, which is an assurance most of us can only dream of."

"I agree," Arthur said, giving Molly a warning look. "Jennifer, as Head of the Weasley Family, I hereby grant you permission to act as Ronald and Ginevra's guardian this summer."

Jen inclined her head. "Thank you, Arthur." She reached out to pat Molly's arm. "Like I said, Molly, I sincerely hope that when this is all over, we can sit here and you can say 'I told you so'."


When Jen arrived back at Potter Manor, it was to be confronted by two teenagers.

"What happened?!" Hermione asked for a third time. "Ginny said she asked you to tell us."

Jen took a deep breath. "A long time ago, a soul bond was considered a legally binding marriage in the wizarding world. That law was changed several hundred years ago, when it interfered with one too many betrothals …"

"Of course it did," Hermione muttered.

Jen smiled fondly at her niece. "Obviously. However, we discovered today that Gringotts still consider them a legally binding marriage. Ginny is, as far as the goblins are concerned, Lady Malfoy."

Hermione's jaw dropped and she jumped to her feet. "Maybe I should go and talk to her; she must be freaking out."

"Actually," Jen said, "it's Draco I'm worried about."


Hermione hesitated, letting her empathy expand. The Quidditch pitch was relatively quiet, but she could feel a haze of fear and anxiety from the east wing. She nodded, bending to kiss Harry, before hurrying towards the source, finding Daphne hovering outside Draco's bedroom door.

The Slytherin girl looked relieved at her arrival. "I saw him get back; he looked strange, but he won't answer."

"Long story," Hermione muttered, trying the door. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it was locked. "Draco? It's me, can you let me in please?"

There was a brief pause, in which she wondered why she had expected a response. On good terms with her he may be, but if Draco wasn't going to confide in Daphne, he wasn't about to confide in …

The lock clicked.

"I wasn't expecting that to work," Hermione admitted.

"Good luck," Daphne said.

Hermione smiled weakly and let herself in, closing the door gently, pausing for a moment to give her eyes time to adjust to the dim light.

Draco was sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, looking – for once – how he felt: utterly despondent.

Hermione sat down next to him, but didn't say anything, knowing that he'd talk if he wanted to.

After a few minutes, he took a shaky breath. "I can't feel her. Where is she?"

"Quidditch Pitch," Hermione said softly. "She asked Jen to tell me and Harry what happened. I guess she needs some time to think."

"About what?" Draco asked, almost helplessly. "We can't change it."

Hermione smiled slightly. "Well, from what I've gathered, you and Ginny only share thoughts you want each other to hear, right?"

Draco nodded.

"Well, normally, meeting 'the one' entails a good couple of months at least of 'how is he feeling', 'am I acting too forward', 'does he really like me' and so on," Hermione continued. "Ginny's trying to get her head around the fact that you're 'the one' and she shouldn't need to deal with all those questions, but she is, because she won't use the link to find out what she's feeling. Also, even though we all knew the soul bond was – you know – it, this is a little more … now."

"Yeah," Draco agreed softly. "I thought I'd be freaking out about it, but I'm freaking out more about the fact that she's closed the link. I can feel her, but I can't hear her and … and I don't like it."

Hermione frowned. "You want me to go and get her?"

Draco sighed. "No. Best let her work it out by herself. She needs …" He stopped, lifting his head to stare at the closed door. "She's on her way."

Hermione stood up, squeezing his shoulder as she did. "Alright. And sort this out today, please. We need you both focused."

Draco pulled a face. "Yes, mum."


Once Ginny's thoughts settled, guilt began to pool in the pit of her stomach. After her reaction at the beginning of the summer, and their conversation the night before, blocking the link was not only wrong, it was borderline cruel.

She reached the landing just as Hermione left Draco's room and the other girl gave her a stern look. "Fix it."

Ginny just nodded, gathering her Gryffindor courage before knocking on the door.

It opened silently, and she stepped inside.

He was still sitting on the edge of the bed, and when he looked at her, it looked like he had already given up.

Gently, she nudged the link open again, flinching at the wave of pain and anxiety that washed over her.

Ginny opened her mouth to explain, then closed it again. After a few more attempts to find the right words, she gave up, took a deep breath, and forced the link open entirely, letting every single one of her thoughts, fears, memories and emotions flood into him.

His expression didn't change, but the light in his eyes changed from pain, to shock, to … something else.

Then, before Ginny could as much as blink, his arms were around her and his mouth was pressed against hers in a searing kiss that sent shivers down her spine, making every inch of her skin spark with magic.

At the same time, he opened his side of the link.

Ginny found herself spinning through memories of Hogwarts, Slytherin, Lucius Malfoy, Death Eaters, Voldemort … then his emotions joined them; the love he felt for his mother, the fear and disdain for his father, the hatred for Death Eaters, the concern for some of his house-mates … and then she landed upon herself, right in the centre, surrounded by a myriad of emotions, feelings that she was harbouring for him as well, and possibly had been for weeks, maybe even months, but kept hidden.

Keeping the link as open as that would drive them both mad eventually, and they returned it to its usual state, but the connection didn't disappear; his presence in her mind remained stronger than ever, and their embrace shifted from one of desperate need for contact to a soft, loving kiss that made her heart beat five times faster.

After what seemed like forever, he broke away, keeping her in his arms, pulling back only far enough to meet her eyes. "What were you worried about again?"

Ginny blushed, the curse of fair skin. "Okay, I was overthinking. Are you sure you're alright with this? I mean, according to Gringotts, it's you and me until death do us part and all that."

Draco's gaze didn't waver, his azure eyes locked with her chocolate ones. "And providing we survive this war, I fully intend to make it that way in the wizarding world as well.

Ginny started. She knew that he loved her, but … "Really?"

Draco smirked at her – not his 'Slytherin' smirk, but one that she had noticed was reserved solely for her, and did things to her insides that she hadn't entirely come to terms with yet. "Why, of course, Miss Weasley, what were you expecting?"

Ginny chose not to answer, focussing instead on something else. "And here I thought I was Mrs Malfoy now, dear."

Draco chuckled. "Lady Malfoy, darling, there's a slight difference." He became serious again very quickly. "And you're alright with this as well? You and me? Forever?"

Ginny nodded. "Forever."