Interlude: You're Gone, by Diamond Rio
I said, "Hello I think I'm broken."
And though I was only jokin'
It took me by surprise when you agreed.
"Go ahead," said a Widikul Enterprises' publicist to a brown haired man in a bowler holding a large piece of parchment with a Quick Quotes Quill.
"Barniculus Brighton, 'Wizarding Patrician Magazine.' Mr. Malfoy, what is your opinion about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named being the top suspect in the disappearance of your daughters?"
Draco cleared his throat. "It is always smart to examine You-Know-Who when crimes of this capacity occur, but at this moment, we do not want to narrow our options too much. I am leaving the investigation up to the Ministry, and trust they are doing their best to find our girls. While I have no doubt he is capable of it, I can think of no reason why he would choose to abduct two little girls."
I was tryin to be clever
But for the life of me I never
Would have guessed how far the simple truth would lead.
A blue banner with a large "W" in blue, Widikul's logo, hung on a wall behind the subjects of the press conference, shouting, "There's nothing better than Widikul!" every few moments. Draco was too lost in his own thoughts to even care about that at this point, though. His girls were missing. His girls. He was a Niffler when it came to those girls – he could find them, save them, defend those shiny centers of his world against anything, he had always assumed – until now.
Those girls of his, they were quite a pair. Leah called him on his moments of eccentricity, brought him back down to Earth. Leah was very serious with a tendency to brood, but not without the playfulness that endeared her father to people. Rachel adored him no matter what he did to her, and exemplified the innocence that both Ginny and Draco had both possessed at one time. His girls were a pair of living, breathing bonds between his distant wife and him - and, gods, he missed them all.
The flash bulbs of the cameras nearly blinded Ginny – they went off so suddenly and often. She sat there, feeling slightly uncomfortable at being in front of the press – that was her husband's department – awkwardly holding her husband's hand in front of the photographers and journalists. It was unsaid that the front that put up at galas needed to be extended while the wizarding world searched for their girls.
You knew all my lines.
You knew all my tricks.
You knew how to heal that pain no medicine can fix.
The publicist directed the ruckus of hand waving journalists by asking, "Grimelda?"
"Grimelda Paraffin of 'Witch Weekly,'" a strawberry blonde woman stated, getting up out of her seat. "Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore has refused to talk to the Ministry about the girls much to Minister of Magic Fudge's consternation. Does this make you suspicious?"
"Dumbledore and I have never really seen eye-to-eye on a number of subjects, but I do not believe he would ever do anything to our babies without first consulting us about it," Draco stated dryly. "Mr. Fudge has a top staff working on finding our children. If he cannot get any information from Dumbledore himself, I am sure there are other ways of obtaining said information. Dumbledore is a great wizard, but he is not greater than a whole Ministry."
And I bless the day I met you.
And I thank God that he let you
Lay beside me for a moment that lives on.
"Next question. Mr. Barrelkeeter?" said the publicist.
"Dionysus Barrelkeeter, 'Daily Prophet.' Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Weasley-Malfoy, your older daughter, Leah, shares a birthday with the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, one of your best friends. In fact, she was born on July 31st of the following year, the first birthday you had to experience without him. Many of the more suspicious wizards say that your daughter was of interest to the Dark Lord because of her birth date – they say a Soul Exchange occurred between your daughter and Mr. Potter – and that your young daughter Rachel was an innocent bystander taken when Leah was the real one he wanted. What are your opinions on that?"
And the good news is I'm better for the time we spent together.
And the bad news is you're gone.
Draco responded, "I think that most of these so-called 'Skeptic Wizards,' are full of conspiracies that do not exist. Unidentified Flying Objects, life on other planets, positive medical effects of Michael Bolton music? Come on! Soul Exchanges never happen. I do not know why I even need to acknowledge the stupidity of that question."
Looking back it's still surprising
I was sinking, you were rising.
With a look you caught me in mid-air.
"Last question," said the publicist, pointing to a stout journalist with a handlebar mustache.
"Lorenzo del Barrio Puerta, 'Bruja.' My question is directed toward Ms. Weasley-Malfoy. What is your opinion of your brother" – he looked down at his notes – "Charles' comments on the fact that he suspects your husband in the disappearance of Leah and Rachel?"
Now I know God has his reasons.
But sometimes it's hard to see them.
When I awake and find that you're not there.
Ginny looked confused for a second. She had heard of no such comments from Charlie. She had not even talked to Charlie since she had married Draco. "My wife and I are not sure to what comments you refer, Mr. del Barrio Puerta," Draco said, shooting a glare at Widikul's publicist for not informing them of this.
"Your brother, Charles Weasley, granted an interview with a Romanian publication in which he stated, and I quote, 'My brother-in-law Draco Malfoy is the worst kind of wizard there is – the product of the worst kind of family. All of wizarding Europe knows his family has dabbled in the Dark Arts. I am sure that he still has allegiances to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, like his father before him, and it would not surprise me if he had those innocent, beautiful children kidnapped and brainwashed to support the Dark Lord too,' end quote."
"Charlie is my brother, I love him, but we have not had contact in thirteen years. He does not know my girls, he does not know husband, he does not know me, and he has absolutely no right to point a finger at my husband," Ginny said coolly.
You found hope in hopeless.
You made crazy sane.
You became the missing link that helped me break my chains.
Mr. del Barrio Puerta twirled his mustache with the quill he was holding. "Ms. Weasley-Malfoy, do you believe that your husband had anything to do with the disappearance of your daughters?"
And I bless the day I met you.
And I thank God that he let you
Lay beside me for a moment that lives on.
Ginny hesitated for a moment. Draco's grip on her hand loosened. She looked at him with his blonde hair and slack mouth.
The man who would be Potter's replacement.
The man who would never replace Potter.
"No, I do not think my husband had anything to do with Leah and Rachel's disappearance. He loves them far too much to harm them."
The publicist called an end to the press conference with a, "Thank you for your questions, we really appreciate your coverage of this matter. And despite all the controversies swirling around, please remember the core issue – getting these two little girls home. There are posters located on the table in the right corner with all of Leah and Rachel's vital stats." She held up a large poster of two girls, both smiling, one fair, the other not so fair, flashing gray eyes that seemed to embody all the potential the world held. They both waved shyly to the camera.
And the good news is I'm better for the time we spent together.
Joined briefly for that moment in front of the cameras, Draco had not felt as close to Ginny since the night that they had created Leah. Each of them held a mutual grief, a mutual fear, about their daughters.
He wanted to comfort her, he wanted to take her into his arms and hold her. Gods, he missed his girls and his wife, but for that moment, they had been in tune, connected.
Ginny let go of Draco's hand as the last journalist filed out.
And in that moment she up and left him, abandoned him once again in solitude.
Despite the fact that she was still sitting beside him.
And the bad news is you're gone.