Edited 20th February 2014 to remove review responses and superfluous author's notes.

This last chapter is one of the few things I still like about the fic. It originally quoted Keane's Somewhere Only We Know, which despite my metal roots is one of my favourite songs.

16. Still Waters

Draco Malfoy and Daniel Fletcher stood side by side. They didn't want to be here together and they certainly hadn't planned it this way. The small grey headstone stood before them, half covered with snow. It had snowed late this year, drifting down from the mountains in time for the New Year, covering the field that had briefly been a battle zone. The snow made the slaughter grounds look far more innocent than they were; as if it were still nothing more than a Quidditch pitch. But from here, from the Hogwarts graveyard, it could not be seen, though equally, neither boy could forget it.

Christmas had been terrible that year. After that fateful day at the end of November, when the battle had been lost and won, Hogwarts had closed, sending every student home for an extended holiday. Except that for the grieving the break was never going to be a holiday, and there was no one in the school who had not lost someone. No one was entirely unscathed. Especially not Draco Malfoy, hailed a hero for his last minute conversion. Daniel didn't like him and never had, but he had to feel sorry for him, becoming famous for cutting down his own father. Thinking about Lucius Malfoy reminded him of that day again and forced his dead friend's image into his mind. He had to take a deep breath to stop himself from crying.

Daniel stared down at the partially obscured engraved lettering. Blaise ought to have been buried by his family, he thought, bitterly. But Blaise didn't have a family. He had never known that. Dumbledore had told him when they were discussing the burial. His best friend, and he never knew! Malfoy had known. That hurt Daniel, knowing that Blaise had confided more in his worst enemy than he had in him. It tore his soul to hear Draco say that he thought that Blaise would hate to be buried near his murdered father, and not understand what he meant.

The two boys ignored each other now, though they were barely two feet apart. They would have stood in silence for ever if not for Ginny Weasley, who pushed between them to lay a bunch of pinched winter roses at the base of the stone. It was a futile gesture; the blooms would be dead before the day was over. The girl breathed quickly, her breath crystallising as she looked down. She read the words in their deep, copperplate script, saying them aloud as if it were an incantation that could restore the boy to life.

Blaise Zabini
4th March 1980 - 28th November 1996
Altissima quaeque flumina minimo sono labi

Draco Malfoy looked at her as the last Latin syllable rolled uncertainly off of her tongue. "The deepest rivers flow with least sound," he translated, softly. "Still waters run deep. Quite appropriate for Blaise, don't you think, Ginny?"

She looked up, startled that he used her first name. "Yes," she stuttered, flustered, but also aching. His death had hit her hard. She hadn't realised how much she had needed to see his face every day until he was gone. There was no going back. She felt the tears well up in her eyes. She tried to wipe them away discreetly, as if terrified of showing emotion in front of Malfoy, even if he was no longer the enemy.

Draco looked at her sharply, noticing the emotion in her eyes despite her efforts. "Did you love him, Weasley?" he asked.

Daniel flinched as Draco unconsciously echoed his father's words. But he did not say anything. Draco was not being cruel. He could not know they were the words that Lucius had used, and if he had known he would never have said them. It was an unlucky chance, nothing more. He wasn't really trying to hurt Daniel, or the girl. But Ginny was hurting anyway, and there was nothing that either of them could do about that.

She coloured slightly, and seemed to be thinking - rather, being tormented by thoughts. "Maybe," she murmured. "I did. I never wanted to, but I did. I loved him against my will and against every instinct in my body. But I did love him. When I saw his body, and realised that he never knew what I felt, and that he never would know, I thought my heart would break. Do you understand how that makes me feel?" She sank to her knees in front of the stone, sobbing her heart out. Tears rolled down her face and into the soft drifts of snow.

Draco watched her. She reminded him of Blaise, when he had told him about his father's death. This was a different sort of love, a different sort of guilt, and yet another thing that Draco Malfoy had never experienced and could never understand.

"He loved you, you know," Draco said, flatly. "I know he did. He as good as told me. I tried to blackmail him into crippling Potter for me, using that knowledge. He may never have known how you felt, but he would've wanted you to know that he loved you."

Ginny felt angry. How could Malfoy do this to her? "Malfoy!" she shouted. "Do you have to tell me this now? Now that he's dead, and I can't do a thing to change that? Now I can't have him any more, you have to tell me that he felt the same, that we could have been together! He's dead, Malfoy, and nothing matters any more!"

"You're wrong, Ginny," Draco said, hating himself for making her cry. "He would've wanted you to know. Shout curses at his memory or his headstone if you want to, but please don't shout at me." He added, mostly to himself, "My heart won't take that."

She only walked away, sadly. Daniel turned to Draco and said, "Go after her. She needs someone, Draco. She needs help." And Draco didn't argue. Daniel watched him approach the girl, watched him start to speak, and then found that his eyes had clouded and he could watch no more.

He looked down at the fresh stone. "I'm sorry, Blaise. But it's for the best." He paused, remembering how Blaise had loved peppering his speech with quotations, and added, "All is for the best in this best of all possible worlds." But he didn't look as if he believed it. And when he leaned forwards to touch the cold grey headstone, a tear rolled down his face and fell to the ground, mingling with Ginny's in the melting snow.

-End-