A/N: you know the drill. I own nada, except the plot of this fiction. It's been really great writing for you guys and I hope you like the conclusion, I hope you liked it all! Cheers!

.:Epilogue:. The Last Train Home

Professor Ginevra Weasley gripped her black-boned cane anxiously on the platform. The train was a few minutes late; she hated late trains, always expecting the worst after… well it wasn't something she liked to dwell on.

Ginevra had been admitted to St Peter's Institute for Magical Rehabilitation after what had happened in Malfoy Manor. It was a place where she could rebuild from this horrible experience, her parents had told her. They didn't know that keeping her away from Draco left her nothing to build with.

Lucius had been killed under all the wreckage of his estate and for Ginevra, it had taken almost a year for her bones to fully heal from the wreckage and the drainage of her life force. And then six months was spent learning how to use her limbs again, Ginevra knew she was a quick learner, the Healers kept her in there for her well being.

Her well being, she mused as the black engine rushed past her and slowed to a halt. Ginevra boarded the train with as much grace as she could manage and limped over to her assigned compartment. Her right knee had never quite healed; the Healers had told her the ring had released a poison into her system while it was feeding off her energy. The Healers had kept her quiet with the daily dose of the correct potions, she had learned it was from Fudge to keep her quiet about the whole incident, making it look like it was all Draco's fault and without the Dementors, they had sentenced him to death. This, she would never forgive.

Sliding open the compartment door, she motioned to put her bag on the seat but found someone was already sitting in it. Who ever it was, rose from the seat and towered before her, she was greatly reminded of a Dementor, but did not believe it was real because 1 – she did not her the hiss of a snake and a high cold laugh like she usually did when a Dementor came near, 2 – Dementors fled to the Arctic after the war and 3 – she knew who it was already. Proceeding to place her bag on the compartment floor, she straightened up but before she could greet the shadowy figure, he beat her to it.

Ginevra was flooded with memories and emotions as the strong arms enfolded her. Draco kissed her hard before she had time to react from his embrace. She could read his lips, feel what he felt: passion, want, desire and love. She could tell he had truly missed her after five years without any kind of contact with her. Their kissed deepened and Ginevra was sure she was going to faint.

The blond boy – no, the blond man, released the hold on her lips and they sunk into the seat. She could see into his clear gray eyes and into his soul.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this," he breathed.

It had been five years since she had seen him, since he saved her life by destroying the weapon and no one believed for a second that Draco had been trying to save her. Harry had seen Draco say the incantation and Ginevra had not been fit to submit to questioning, she still would not even after five years.

"I have an idea." she replied.

She let him rake his fingers through her short red hair and shivered at his touch. She just couldn't let go of him. Emotions overwhelmed her and she almost sobbed into his chest, but five lonely years ago, she promised herself she'd never cry again. She had used up all her tears on the night they told her he was dead.

Ginevra traced his lips with her fingers and he closed his eyes. She wanted to memorize every line, every scar. He suddenly took her hand in his and looked into her face with Azkaban hardened eyes and drank her in just like she had done to him.

"Tell me everything," he said urgently. "I want to know,"

Ginevra told her lonely tale of how she recovered from the damage done from the ring. How she had almost lost her sight and her magical abilities but pulled through. About how she was able to continue her education and become a private Magical tutor for children in wealthy families and eventually started teaching Advanced Charms in Durmstrang. She had just come back from a seminar about objects of Dark Magic.

"I never really kept touch with my family after I got out of St Peters," she told him when she had finished. "Where have you been all this time? I know you went to Azkaban, but how did you get out? I thought you were – what happened?"

Draco smiled gravely at her.

"It was a long five years," he said. "I was sedated during the trial; I didn't stand a chance,"

"But that's terrible," she said, horrified. "How did you get out?"

"Well… when Fudge was sacked in '98 for fraud, the new Minister looked at my case and gave me an appeal and the first thing I did was look for you," he said, never taking is eyes of her, blinking rarely as if he was afraid she'd disappear before his eyes. She tightened her small hand around his in reassurance.

"What about the ring?" he asked after a silence.

"What about it?" she raised her hand and adjusted her glasses.

"Well, for starters," he tossed the offending blond hair out of his face. "Where is it from? When was it made? What was it for?"

Ginevra was ready for this, she had read into it, but no source was ever good enough, so she had gone back to the Cottage she and Draco had stayed in for a short time, and looked through the book Draco had been reading. It had been written completely in Latin but she could translate to the best of her ability.

Ginevra took in a breath.

"It was first crafted just after Voldemort rose to power in the 1970s; it was a plan to fall back on in case he happened to fall. Wielded in the ring was a part of his essence and evil." She paused for a moment to let Draco take it all in and continued. "It fell into the hands of Regulus Black, and when he was killed for trying to desert, the ring was forgotten when the word of the Prophesy had reached the Dark Lord's ears and it remained at the Black house ever since, completely forgotten, given to a house-elf for safe keeping. And, well, you know the rest."

"Yes," the blond man said, scratching at the stubble on his chin. "But what does it do, exactly?"

"Well," Ginevra replied, preparing for another speech. "If Voldemort was ever to fall, temporarily or permanently, the ring could be used to – not bring him back, but to replace him, with the same intentions but with someone else's life force."

"Like yours,"

"Exactly," Ginevra responded. "And so when you destroyed the ring, there's nothing left of him on this earth, or so we hope…"

"But only Potter could kill him,"

"Yes," Ginevra said. "But it wasn't him you destroyed, just a shadow of him."

Draco nodded, understanding.

"Did you ever, I mean, did you try to contact me?" Draco asked her, the question completely threw her off.

"Draco," Ginevra studied his face and traced the scars with her eyes. "They told me you were dead."

He frowned and nodded.

Ginevra lifted his chin so he met her gaze and ran her fingers through his hair. "But I never believed it."

Draco pulled her into a soft kiss that made this lovesick redhead rise to the clouds and back again into Draco's arms. He trailed kisses down her neck and held her close. The young Weasley felt something peculiar inside her and almost shuddered as it reached her finger tips and toes. She suddenly remembered this is what it felt like to be happy.

"I'm afraid," she admitted. "I'm afraid this is a dream and I'll wake up,"

Draco held her shoulders, "I'll never leave you, Ginny, never again. I promise you that."

Ginevra smiled, it had been so long since anyone called her that. She looked through the window; the daylight was drawing to a close. It was only a matter of time before she arrived for her appointment.

She turned to Draco.

"You know," she said, looking at his hands in her freckled ones. "I'm investigating rumors about a Dark object reported in Iceland that could over through the magical balance between Dark and Light,"

"Is that so?" he inquired.

"Yes, and if it's legitimate, perhaps you wouldn't mind saving the world with me again?"

The classic smirk made an appearance on Draco's face and he had that spark in his eyes again.

"Only if it's really dangerous and stupid," he said. "and with you."

"Always,"

"I hope you have enough strength for it then," he said, eyeing her cane.

She looked into his eyes and melted into his gaze.

"You give me strength," she whispered and sealed it with a kiss that sent both their hearts soaring and the train they had both boarded made its course into the sunset and to their destiny.

.:THE END:.