Disclaimer: All this effort, and still, nothing's mine! woe is me...
A/N: Heaps of love and thanks to everyone who's reviewed, whether you only just found this, or have been there since the first few chapters of my humble story! Either way, you know who you are, so virtual hugs all around!
So, without further ado, here by popular demand (I know, I'm living a lie), the end of the story. wow, i feel sad... but fulfilled, so yay. Anyway, enjoy!
Memory – A Blessing
Epilogue
Arthur did not have the heart to cast another memory spell on her, and Ginny Weasley never spoke to her father again. She was told that Draco had been put into one of the high-security cells, and she wept yet more tears for his pain. But she knew that she would not have gone to visit him even if it were possible. They had only their last memories of each other to love, and she would not let hers be those of a broken man. He wouldn't have wanted that.
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She married an open-minded muggle in the end, John Lockley, and became Ginevra Lockley. He never asked about a certain necklace that she always wore, and she never mentioned the finer details of her sore and scarred past to him. A woman's heart, full of secrets, can never be opened if she chooses to shut it.
They'd had children over the years. The oldest, Ronnie, had just left Hogwarts and his post of Head Boy and was now working abroad for Gringotts, a profession he had wanted ever since knowing about the late Uncle Bill his mother had adored. He had, to Ginevra's surprised delight, received eleven OWLs and an almost frightening number of NEWTs in the two exams.
Their second child had been a girl, immediately named Hermione. Herm, as she preferred to be called (Hermione Granger would have hated the nickname), was in her sixth year, and very popular despite being a troublemaker. Sometimes Ginevra wondered whether Fred and George were watching their niece now, and beaming proudly at her antics. Other times, she knew that they were.
Another girl had come two years later, Molly, who a model student, the only one in her family not to have been sorted into Gryffindor, and a Beater on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. She had only tried out to prove to everybody that it was possible to be academic and boisterous at the same time, but it could not have been denied that she and the other Beater were the best duo at Hogwarts since her infamous uncles – It did seem to run in her blood.
The youngest child, a son, was now enjoying his first year at the school. He was rather quiet for a boy, but extremely bright. And after excitedly watching the current house Quidditch teams and practising in their garden during the holidays, he had decided to try out for Seeker as soon as he was allowed. Ginevra had, at his birth, instinctively named him Harry, and now of course, with the Quidditch obsession and talent for flying, the name just fit.
Only Molly knew who she had been named after. The other three had no idea that they had the same names as three friends, closer than any other, who had once gone to Hogwarts. They made no connection with their own mother and the worshipped Harry Potter, who had died almost three decades ago. Ginevra knew she would never tell them, not now. Her children would discover the past on their own, or let it lie there in peace.
But even now, over twenty years later, she herself still thought about a certain platinum blond, smirking, confident man every moment of the day, and the life she might have had with him. Even now, when John was asleep beside her, she let the tears fall, let herself whisper to the darkness the answer that had been frozen in time.
Yes, Draco...
A/N: Ah man, I feel so bad! I'm so very very sorry if you wanted a happy ending to this... if you're pining, well... go write your own happy ending then. -/faith sulks/- Ahem. Right. Ok, guys! This is it! No more! I'm moving on to better things (yeah right), please read them too!