Disclaimer: Nothing's mine!

A/N: This is my first shot at D/G, so please be nice! Chapter one awaits you below...

Memory – A Blessing

A Meeting

Ginny Weasley sat alone in the Leaky Cauldron, sipping at her Butterbeer and reading some Muggle book a friend had recommended. It was a rather extensive, Victorian novel, but Ginny was getting into it. It was certainly not as boring as she had expected.

People in the pub began to filter out, or up into their rooms, but Ginny did not move. She ordered another small bottle of Butterbeer. Although she was surviving alone in London, her job at Flourish and Blotts did not provide much income, and she did not want to return to her dingy bedsit above the shop for a while yet.

There was a loud bang as the front door was opened so forcefully that it hit the wall. The remaining people in the room looked around, but then returned to their conversations immediately with no interest in the stranger who had come in. Ginny, however, surveyed him intently, as was her nature with people.

He had obviously been travelling for a quite a while. His black cloak was creased and stained with mud spatter at the bottom, and his wide-brimmed black hat, Muggle-style, looked distinctly battered. She watched from over the rim of her Butterbeer as he pushed a Galleon across the counter.

"I'll have a Firewhisky."

That voice... She frowned, and then started when he looked right at her with piercing green-grey eyes, a platinum blond fringe falling just above them. He would have been rather good-looking if he had not had the rather unapproachable expression of somebody well used to hardships in life.

"You got a problem or something?" The strong London accent sounded so familiar, but she couldn't remember where she'd heard it before...

She blushed. "Sorry."

A split-second before she turned away, she thought she saw pure shock on his face. From the corner of her eye as she read her book, she saw it followed by incredulity, and then a calculating expression. Finally, the stranger shook his head as though he was telling himself to get a grip. Annoyed, Ginny looked up again.

"What's your problem?"

He looked uncomfortably surprised again. Ginny saw him hesitate before speaking again in that rough drawl she couldn't quite place. "I just thought you were someone else."

"Well, who?"

The man took a breath, hesitated, let it out again, and croaked, "Ginny Weasley?"

Now she was suspicious, not to mention increasingly nervous. How did he know her nickname and surname? It wasn't in Ginny's nature to dodge the things that came at her though, she had gone through to much to think that that would be a good idea. So she tried to smile.

"Yeah... Yeah I am."

The man put down his goblet abruptly. His jaw was clenched. "You don't remember me at all, do you?"

When Ginny just looked blank, Draco could have laughed at himself, his own stupidity. What had he been expecting? Arthur had erased all her memories of him.

Ginny herself had not changed much in the past three years. Her long red hair was slightly waved, and her petite form still looked perfect in convincing Muggle clothes. But her beautiful hazel eyes looked more mature, more serious, and her voice had changed too. Suddenly Draco knew that, without him, she had grown up.

"No, sorry, I don't... Who are you?"

He paused. "I'm... Tom. Tom Grey. We – we talked a few times at Hogwarts, that's all. You probably don't remember."

"I'm afraid not." Ginny had sucked in her breath at the name, before telling herself to be sensible. Sometimes, when she was unprepared, her horrible memories of Voldemort still haunted her. She looked at the man, Tom, sipping his Firewhisky. He did look familiar, although she had no memory of having talked to him before. But then again, all her memories beyond three or four years ago were strangely hazy.

"I haven't seen anybody from Hogwarts for a long time," she said almost wistfully. "You've been travelling?"

He grinned wryly. "That obvious, is it? Yeah, I've been wandering around, seeing the world."

"Wow." Ginny looked impressed. "I wish I could do something like that."

Draco grinned again, despite the lingering pain of realising that she did not know him. So she still wanted to get away, like his old Ginny. She probably still felt guilty about her wish, guilty for wanting to leave her father alone. She had confided in him about that a long time ago, and he had promised he would take her away with him somewhere, someday. That had never happened, of course.

"So, you work here?"

She nodded glumly. "You?"

"Well, I still live in my old house." He looked down and finished the last of his drink. "It's been my home all my life, but it's been a bit, well, neglected... since my father died."

Ginny felt a rush of sympathy for him, overcoming her own pain. "Was he – I mean, was he – was he killed by V– Voldemort?"

"Yeah." Draco's conscience nagged at him, but it wasn't exactly a lie, not in the long run. His father's life would not have been cut short if he had not been persuaded to join the Death Eaters in the first place.

Ginny looked awkward. "I'm sorry. The same happened to most my family. I have to go now. It was good seeing you, Tom."

"You too, Ginny. Look – " Draco was seized by a sudden and wild idea. "Do you want to meet up again sometime?"

Her face lit up. "That would be great."

"Here, then. Tomorrow, at four?"

"Sure."

And Ginny dropped her book into her bag and left before the man she now knew as Tom could see the joyful expression on her face. She had already picked up the fact that he was actually a very nice person beneath the rather cold exterior. Draco stayed at the bar and motioned for another Firewhisky, his brain in turmoil. What on earth had just happened?