Disclaimer: JKR- Everything. Me- Nothin'.
Author's Note: I deserve many reviews just for the mere fact that I actually continued. I have this horrible problem of starting but never continuing. It actually would have been out a lot sooner but I had to write a paper for AP Lit on Albert Camus' The Stranger… blech. But enjoy.
Isolation
Malfoy smirked at Ginny's baffled expression. She watched as he opened his mouth to undoubtedly give her his signature witty and insulting remark, but then was surprised as his face went blank and he passed out, falling to the floor.
Harry sighed with obvious frustration. "Typical Malfoy. Not happy unless he's causing a scene." He bent over and picked him up. Struggling under Malfoy's weight, he looked at Ginny for help.
Still shocked to silence, Ginny quickly rushed over into the interior of her living room and pushed the bulky coffee table out of the way. She then, quickly as possible, pulled out the sofa, another strange Muggle contraption.
Harry laid Malfoy down on the couch, and then collapsed into an armchair, obviously exhausted. She glanced at Malfoy and took in the reality of the situation. His face was much altered from the last time she had seen him over 3 years ago. His once pale, angelic face was now visibly hardened and chiseled, no doubt due to years of fighting for the cause. She even thought that she could see that he had somewhat of a tan. Through his sweat soaked shirt, she could see his toned and muscular chest and arms. He really was a conceited and miserable prat, but he was also extremely gorgeous.
He was also burning up with fever.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry start to stand up to help take care of Malfoy. Ginny held up her hands to motion for him to sit back down. "Don't worry about it, Harry. I'll take care of it." She gave him a somewhat awkward smile, not having smiled at another person in so long. In all her years at the Burrow did she ever imagine that she would ever have trouble smiling.
Harry sank back into the couch and closed his eyes with a sigh. "Thanks Gin."
She resisted the urge to run and throw her arms around the tired boy… no, he was a man now. As looked at him now she could not help but see how he had changed. His features, too, had been hardened by years of war. He was still thin, and the effects of years of playing Quidditch had yet to wear off due to absence. He had shrugged his youthful visage and was now a handsome young adult.
But in his eyes Ginny noticed the greatest change. In the depths of his striking green eyes there no longer resided the young, exuberant, and carefree fire of his teenage years. They were now dulled by the harsh realities of war, death, and overwhelming pain.
Ginny gasped, trying to hold back tears. She could not help but feel for him. A part of her would always love the boy of old, and a part of her would always mourn his loss.
She rubbed at her eyes that were now saturated with unrepressed tears. She quickly brushed them away as she hurried into the kitchen, eager to make herself useful. She briskly set to heating a kettle full of water to make tea. After shoving a shepherd's pie that she'd made the previous day into the oven, Ginny returned to the living room.
Harry was now lightly dozing and did not move at her re-entrance. She turned her attention to Malfoy who was now squirming in a feverish dream. Ginny sat down beside him and placed a hand on his forehead; she really needed to get his fever down. She wished desperately that she was able to do magic, but she had been prevented from doing so for her own safety. She scoffed.
She set to work, first removing his shoes and shocks. She brought her hands hesitantly to the hem of his shirt, mentally preparing herself to remove his shirt. It was strange that she was so nervous about taking his shirt off; she had seen her brothers and Harry with their shirts off countless times, so what was so different now?
Standing up abruptly, Ginny walked back into the kitchen and took out a large basin, filling it with ice water. She placed it on the table besides the pullout sofa, and then walked to the hall closet. She returned to Malfoy's side with a towel and two washcloths. Without a thought, she removed the shirt from his torso. Gathering some ice from the bowl into a washcloth, she set it on his forehead, which was furrowed from obvious nightmares.
Ginny began to run the other cold, wet cloth over his face and down his neck and chest. As she was doing so, Malfoy began to squirm more violently under her touch.
"No…stop… don't touch me…" he murmured absently. She had the feeling that he was not talking to her. "Father… please, don't touch me! Father!!" His wriggling became worse and her began to thrash out, blows coming dangerously close to her face.
But as she watched him in this helpless state she could not seem to pull herself away. Risking getting hit, she placed a hand on his chest and smoothed his hair back comfortingly.
"Shh…" she whispered softly. "It's okay." Almost immediately he began to settle down and his sleeping became increasingly more peaceful. She continued the action for a few more minutes until she could hear his light snoring.
Ginny smiled to herself, imagining Ron's face if he could see her now, nursing a Malfoy. Almost as quickly as the thought had formed in her mind, she pulled away. He was a Malfoy. How could she forget? Luckily, she was saved by the shrill whistle of the tea kettle in the kitchen. She rushed back into the kitchen to finish with dinner.
*****
Harry awoke later to the sound of dishes rustling in the kitchen. He blinked his eyes open and looked around taking in his surroundings. He was beginning to think that he was in the safe house of some random family that supported the cause when saw a familiar auburn head pop up from behind an island in the kitchen. Ginny's familiar auburn head to be exact.
He felt a strange tightening of his stomach that he had not felt in years. Gazing at Ginny moving around in the kitchen made him feel at ease. She looked the same to him as she had before the war. She had the same small frame and lithe, athletic figure, the same pale skin with the same pale freckles spattered on her face, and her eyes… the same gorgeous, chocolate brown eyes that still beheld all their same brilliance. If there was one thing that he was happy about in her absence, it was that she would never have to experience the horrors of war. He fought harder in that time as if he were trying to save both her and her innocence.
"Harry?"
With the exception of Ginny's parents and Ron, Harry had felt her absence most acutely. It had been many months that he had believed himself in love with the littlest Weasley. That sentiment had kept him alive for the past year. He had to, needed to stay alive for her. And after this war was over and he made the world safe for her, he would tell her that he loved her.
"Harry!"
Snapping out of his reverie, he looked up into the inquisitive eyes of the object of his musing.
"Sorry, Gin. I'm just tired I guess." He lifted his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
She smiled understandingly at him. "It's fine. You must have had a busy day. This should hold you up for a little while, until I can make you something decent to eat." Confused, he looked down to notice a tray with a steaming cup of tea, a huge serving of shepherd's pie, and a helping of macaroni and cheese (an out-of-the-box American dish that she was beginning to master).
"I didn't know what you'd want so I just made the fast stuff," she said with a small sheepish smile. He felt his heart skip a beat.
He took the tray from her and sat it down on the table in front of him. "It looks great really. I'm starving." He began to dig into the food; he wasn't lying when he said he was starving.
After a few minutes, Harry looked up at Ginny who was watching him with those searching brown eyes. She was sitting in a large armchair opposite him. She had one leg tucked beneath her and the other upright with her hands resting on her knee. She really did look endearing.
He chuckled softly, "What? Do I have something on my face?"
Ginny smiled and gave a small laugh. "No, I was just wondering…" she trailed off before picking the subject up again. "Not that it isn't nice to see another face, but why are you here, Harry? Why is Draco Malfoy—of all the people in this entire world—sick and asleep on my couch in the middle of nowhere?"
Harry's smile faded from his face. 'Come on, who are you kidding? You knew you were going to have to tell her sooner or later. And it's Ginny, of course it's going to be sooner.' He set his fork down and sat back uncomfortably in his chair.
"Okay. Well, Voldemort is dead." he said softly, running a hand through his unruly hair before looking up into her shocked eyes. "But let me start at the beginning. It's kind of a long story."
*****
"After you came here," Harry began slowly, "the battles began to die down. We suspected that he was planning something big, but intelligence was not able to figure out what. All of our sources had been silent so all we could do is sit and wait. After about three months we finally found out what he was up to. Unfortunately it was too late."
He paused for a moment to, what Ginny suspected, control his emotions. "One night, Voldemort and his death eaters marched into Muggle London and began his "purge" of the city. They began killing muggles left and right without a second thought. By the time we arrived there he'd already killed hundreds. By the time we drove them out two days later, the muggle death toll was in the thousands. He killed so many… men, women, and children for no good reason at all." His voice was shaking with anger. Ginny almost got up to sit next to him, but he continued on with the tale.
"It took us over two months to recover and rebuild from that. Wizards don't realize how connected and alike we are to muggles until something senseless like this happens. Usually, we dismiss it to muggle stupidity, but this time it was our fault and we couldn't save them from us," his voice was eerily calm, and it caused Ginny to shiver.
"This was really the low point of the war. With our failing intelligence, we were on the defensive only able to defend ourselves from attack. We were starting to get desperate. It was about six months ago that Draco Malfoy showed up at headquarters. He knew our intelligence was becoming unsuccessful and he volunteered to go undercover and infiltrate the Death Eaters." Ginny blinked, stunned. That was completely unlike Malfoy. The last she heard, he had rebelled against his father and there had been reports that he had fled the country.
Harry continued on, "It really was a blessing. This was the kind of in we had been waiting for but we couldn't help but wonder how Malfoy could pull this off. We figured that Draco was on the outs with his father and the Death Eater's and had left for America or somewhere. But that's when we found out that Draco had killed his father." He paused letting it sink in.
"He left and we didn't hear from him for about a month. Then one day somehow we got an owl from him. We still don't know how he was able to send it without it getting intercepted. The message was brief but we found out that he was able to take his father's place in Voldemort's inner circle. He also said that he would try to send us information on a regular basis. He was good on his word and sent us regular weekly reports that allowed us to resume offensive attacks for three months." Harry reached forward and picked up his cup of tea, taking a gulp of the now cold liquid.
"One week, we didn't receive a report. The next week came, and we didn't get one. For an entire month we heard nothing from or about Malfoy. We couldn't do anything but assume the worst: his cover had somehow been blown and he'd been killed. Out of the blue, five weeks ago we get an owl from Malfoy. He hadn't been discovered but something big was coming. Voldemort was planning the biggest and probably the most decisive battle of the war: an attack on the Ministry and essentially the entire light side."
Ginny almost fell off the chair, so absorbed she was the story from the outside. It was so strange hearing all of this. This was her world, her whole life that he was talking about. Her year of being in isolation had reduced her to the status of outsider and spectator.
"When Voldemort attacked, we were ready for him. It was, by far, the worst battle of the war. But he and I finally faced each other. And after so many years I finally got revenge for what he did to my parents, Cedric, your brothers, and Professor Dumbledore. I killed him." His voice began to tremble, causing Ginny's eyes to well up with tears. She knew, even though he'd never told her, that he blamed himself for all their deaths, and that he felt responsible for the entire war (which when it came down to the facts, was partly true). She stood up and sat down next to him, taking his hand in her own. He looked at her with eyes full of thanks, surprise, and (she wasn't sure) adoration? She found herself wondering how Ron was. He hadn't even mentioned him or Hermione or any of the rest of her family for that matter. She felt herself start to shake with worry.
After they had sat in silence for a few minutes, she decided to bring it up. She tried her hardest to keep her voice calm and asked, "Harry… what about my family? How are they?"
His eyebrows quirked in realization that he had yet to address them. He was obviously mentally kicking himself for waiting so long to bring that up, knowing that she was probably terrified wondering about them. "Wow, I'm sorry. I should have told you that first. They're all fine. They miss you terribly and they've written about a dozen letters to you." He pulled a small stack of letters from a pocket inside his cloak and handed them to her.
Relieved she took them from him and gripped them tightly, almost assuring that they were real. She saw Harry yawn and looked over at a clock on the wall. It was nearly 11 o'clock.
"Hey, it's getting late," she said softly, standing up. "Come on, I'll show you where you can sleep. I can hear the rest in the morning."
Harry stood up, stretching languidly. "Thanks." He followed her out of the room and into her bedroom.
"I only have one bedroom so you can take my bed and I can sleep on the floor," Ginny explained, folding back the bedclothes.
"Come on, Gin. We can share the bed. Please, I don't want to sleep alone tonight," he said softly and honestly. "Hey, I promise I won't try anything," he added with a smirk.
Ginny didn't know how to turn him down. She suspected that she'd always have a soft spot for those green eyes, even if she wasn't in love with him. She sighed, resigned, and replied, "Fine, but it's only because there're spiders on the floor and I wouldn't be able to sleep all night."
Harry grinned, knowing he had won. He began to take off his socks and shoes. He removed his shirt, but luckily kept his trousers on. Ginny grabbed a pair of pajama pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt, hoping she would look as unappealing as possible, and went into the bathroom to change.
When she emerged, he was already in bed with his eyes closed. She turned off the lights in the room and walked over to the bed. Timidly, she crawled into bed beside him and pulled up the covers. She, in all her life, had never thought that sleeping with Harry Potter would be at all awkward, but that was all she felt at present.
After a few minutes she began to relax. Well, that was until he rolled over and put his arms around her, pulling her close to him.
It was so dark that Ginny couldn't see the content smile that graced Harry's face. It was also so dark that Harry couldn't see the look of utter terror on hers.
*****
It was about 3 o'clock when Ginny woke up from, possibly, the worst night of sleep she had ever had. Luckily, sometime during the night Harry had rolled over removing the detestable arm of his from around her waist. She got out of bed, careful not to wake him, and crept into the living room.
Malfoy was sleeping peacefully on the couch, limbs spread out haphazardly. If he weren't such a git she would have commented on how adorable he looked. Scowling at the possibility of even thinking so, she grabbed a blanket from the hall closet and sat down on the love seat.
She curled up under the blanket, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. As she fell into sleep, she couldn't help but watch Malfoy and his beautiful face. It really was a great thing to fall asleep to…
*****
Author's Note: Wow! I can't believe I did it. I apologize for the long background history thing but it needed to be said. And I really didn't mean for there to be so much H/G. I promise no more. I promise to make haste with the D/G. Review and it'll come sooner than you think.