A/N:  Yes, it's been forever, but we updated for you, see?  And yes, we are still pissed at you people who feel the need to review and tell us that cue whiney voice Draco sucks and you only like him cuz Tom Felton is cute.  Well, Tom Felton is cute, but he is not Draco Malfoy.  Draco Malfoy is different, we respect that, and we still want to write about him.  We also recognize that J. K. Rowling doesn't want to do anything with Draco and Hermione.  You should recognize that we don't care.  Fanfiction isn't about writing what the authors would write about.  That would be boring.  It's to expand the story to add things that the author would never do, just to see how the characters would react to it.  So there.  Bitch at us if you want, you probably will anyways, but just know that we think you all are silly.  The end. 

Disclaimer:  I always feel grumpy when I write these after I write such an angry authors note.  So, maybe a rhyme.  Yes, a rhyme.

Please do not sue

For, yes, it's true

That Harry Potter

Is worth the same to us as cannon fodder

Okay, so it's not a particularly good rhyme.  I'm the unpoetic one, leave me alone.  Right, you all want a story, don't you.

Chapter 6

"Potter," he spoke his voice smooth.  "Fancy seeing you here."

"I live here."  My voice was short and to the point.

"Certainly not here," Lucius Malfoy continued.  "I thought you lived in the awful Gryffindor tower."

"What do you want, Malfoy?"  I used the same phrase that I often said to his son, but somehow, I felt much more hate than I ever did with Draco.

Malfoy smirked.  "I'm here to take away your body, but seeing as how you don't seem to be dead, I'll have trouble with that, won't I?"

"I do believe that you will."  My hand grasped my wand, ready to use it in case Malfoy decided to kill me himself.

"And seeing as how I don't see my Lord, I am to assume he's dead," Lucius Malfoy said, his voice not sounding nearly as disappointed as I had hoped.

"I killed him," I said plainly, looking Malfoy in the eye.

"Well, that's aggravating," he told me, not sounding aggravated at all.  "It will take at least a few years to get all the Death Eaters unified again.  We'll have to start all over."

"But...But you mean..." I stuttered, losing most of the strength that I had felt myself acquire in the last few minutes.

"Spit it out, Potter.  Are you going to ask if I mean that the Death Eaters will continue without a leader?  Because if so, that is exactly what I mean."

Somehow, I managed to keep from sobbing.  Crying in front of one's enemy is embarrassing, particularly for a seventeen year old boy.

"We will continue.  And kill.  They can't lock us all up.  Everyone, everything you were close to, will be finished.  And they will end screaming."  The joy in his voice was obvious.  Lucius Malfoy was practically smiling as he told me that he would kill everyone I loved.

"You can't," I said, trying to sound positive about this.  "You don't have the power to do that."

"Steps have already been taken, Potter.  I'd look out for that family you love so much.  Those mugglelovers who deserve to die as much as you."

The Weasley's.  The Weasley's being attacked, killed.  I saw Mr. Weasley and Percy being killed in their offices.  Bill, Charlie being attacked at work.  Fred and George, trying to be funny even though they knew there life was over.  Mrs. Weasley sobbing as they killed her children in front of her.  Ron knowing that he was just a tool to get to Harry and feeling this insignificance as he took his last breath.  And Ginny.

I  looked up at where Lucius had been, but he was gone.  Vanished, along with any hope of stopping him first.

Then, I made a choice.  I decided that I would leave, concentrating the Death Eater's efforts on finding me instead of killing the Weasley's.  I could run.  I could escape.  It wasn't too late.

And I did run.  I ran into Hogsmeade and took the first fireplace I could to London, all the while replaying my conversation with Lucius Malfoy  in my mind.

"Harry Potter.  Well, aren't you the last person I expected to come pay me a visit?"  Lucius Malfoy said, feigning a pleasant voice when Harry approached the prison cell.  Lucius was seated casually, leaning up against a wall, but made no move to get up.

"Well, I doubted the Weasley's would be high up on your list," Harry responded, his voice flat.

"Quite right.  That is an unlikely possibility.  Also, I doubt my son will be coming around any time soon.  Anyway, how can I be of service to you, Mr. Potter."  Lucius sneered, clearly mocking Harry.

Harry, not for the first time, doubted his decision to come to Azkaban.  The Dementors were every where and the prisoners weren't much better company.  "You killed Charlie Weasley," Harry found himself saying, against his will.  He had meant to ask about the murder he was working on, not on his own personal issues.

"Oh, not me.  I would never do anything so heinous.  But yes, I did order his murder."  He showed no remorse.  None at all.  "I told you I would," he added with a shrug.

Harry was grateful the bars were between the two of them, or else there would be nothing stopping him from killing the man before him.  "I thought that if I.. I left, then-"

Harry was interrupted by Malfoy's faint chuckle.  "Yes, I suppose that always was your weakness.  You are incredibly self-centered.  Voldemort was the one who wanted to kill you, Potter, not us.  We couldn't care less, so you see, once he was dead, there was no more reason to kill you, or waste our resources looking for you."

Harry was taken aback for a moment.  "But... but Charlie was-"

"A warning.  We, as Death Easters, wouldn't stop.  And, by killing Charlie, a member of your beloved family, it sunk in that you weren't going to help them.  I had it planned all along, what to do if our master fell.  And you did just what I wanted you to do, ran like the coward you are!"

"No!"  Harry yelled.  "I did it to save them.  I did it to protect them!"

"Ah, yes.  Your brilliant plan to run away didn't work, did it?" Lucius' voice was cutting and bitter.  "That's because you are just a sad Gryffindor with no real planning skills at all.  You couldn't even keep your own friends safe."

Harry froze, and took several deep breaths to calm down before changing the topic.  "I came to ask you about a murder."

"While I assure you, Potter, I've been responsible for a great many deaths, I can hardly take the credit for everyone you come upon."

Harry continued as if he hadn't spoken.  "A girl, mid-twenties, killing curse, and the Dark Mark."

"Ah," Lucius sighed, "I see."  There was a pause as he leaned back as if in thought.  "Tell me, Potter, do you know how long I've been in here?"

"I didn't really care," Harry said simply.

"Five years.  I tend to be out of the loop on the current Death Eater activity.  Though I do get the highlights from a very helpful source."  Saying this, he grinned slightly.

"A source?  Who?"

"Let me ask you a question, Mr. Potter:  Just how stupid so you think I am?" he said, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.  "My point was that the killing of some girl does not make the highlights list."

Harry turned, about to leave without another thought, when an idea hit him.  "Malfoy, you've been in here for five years?" he asked, spinning around.

"Yes," he replied, looking sad for the first time.  "Five years of being locked up in this cell without any of the joys I used to take for granted.  And many more to go."

"Hmm," Harry said, not a stranger to the whining of criminals.  "So, if you don't mind me asking, who turned you in?  I just assumed that you'd been caught by the investigations following the fall of Voldemort, but two years after?  I doubt that somehow."

The sad look disappeared from Lucius's eyes.  "Of course I wasn't.  My son turned me in and I feel no shame over the issue."  He tilted his chin up to emphasize that fact.

"Really?" Harry said, leaning in with actual interest.  "I thought one would be upset about their only son turning them over to the authorities for a life time sentence in Azkaban."

"That's because you're close-minded," Malfoy said with a smile.  "You forget that I'm a Slytherin and would be proud of my son showing his true ambition.  Him putting me away shows that he won't be bothered with silly things such as blood relations to become who he wants to be."

Harry stared at him, a confused expression on his face.

"I forget, you're also simple minded.  Draco has had a bad record.  It was no secret, even before I got put in this hell, just what kind of family the Malfoy's were.  And Draco was just another Malfoy.  Until he put me in Azkaban.  After that, the magical community could see him differently.  And he could go wherever he wants to go.  He could be Minister of Magic in a few years.  With the power that he creates, he could do anything."

And this idea scared Harry Potter.  As he left the prison, all he could think of was the man that Lucius Malfoy had described.  And the fact that he would soon be marrying Harry's best friend.

-s-c-e-n-e-0-c-h-a-n-g-e-

Upon apparating to the front lawn, Draco knocked on the door immediately with a bit of urgency.  The door swung open and there stood George.

It seemed the Weasley brothers were never happy to see him.  They all put up with him for Ginny's sake, but they always seemed to make him feel like a mere annoyance, almost like an old relative that none of them liked, but had to put up with just the same.

Yet, somehow, George looked different this time as he opened the door.  "Well, it's about bloody time!" he exclaimed loudly.  "She's been held up in her room for an hour, she won't let any of us in."

"Were I to chose between putting up with you and locking myself in a room I know what I'd pick," Draco commented coming through the door.  The house was surprisingly empty, especially considering that all the Weasley's were in town.  "Where is everyone?"

"Outside."  George seemed rather irritated.  "Can you just go upstairs, tell Ginny that he's a prat and that she should get the hell over him?"

"No problem.  I'm sure that wording is exactly what she wants to hear."  Draco, however, made his way up the stairs and to Ginny's room.  He silently tried to open it, but it was locked.  He knocked.

"I said go away!" Ginny's teary voice from within said.

"Ginny,"  he called gently.  "It's me."  He waited another moment and then tried the lock again, it was open.  Ginny was sitting on her bed, her back against the pillows at the head.  The wand that she had previously held toward the door to unlock it was, then, dropped carelessly dropped upon her nightstand.  Her face was read with tear streaks, though her eyes were dry now.

Ginny watched Draco enter with slight suspicion.  She was positive her brothers had sent him to talk to her about Harry and cheer her up.  She pulled a out a pillow and hugged it to her chest, ready for his speech about how awful Harry was for leaving her and how she shouldn't care.  But she didn't want to hear it.  She did care.

"You know what I just realized?" Draco asked flopping down on the bed beside her.

"What?" she asked, bracing herself for the lecture.

"I haven't had a bachelor party," he said in mock seriousness.

Ginny giggled.  A wave of relief coming over her.  "That's probably because you don't know any bachelors that you get on with."

"Yeah," he said thoughtfully.  "Why do you suppose that is?"

Ginny playfully hit him on the head with a pillow.  "Maybe because you're an absolute prick?"

"Maybe.  Still the same I want a bachelor's party.  And who better for the job that my best man?"

-s-c-e-n-e-0-c-h-a-n-g-e-

"I think you should wear a tux," Draco stated bluntly.

"What?  No, Draco," Ginny said, somewhat taken aback.

"I have to wear one," he pointed out.

"But… But that's because you're a guy!  Tuxedos are for men, I am not a man."

"But, Ginny," he complained.  "You're my Best Man!"

"Draco," Ginny said, sternly.  "I am not wearing a tux."

"Fine," Draco replied, pouting like a little girl.  "But then you'll have to wear blue."

Ginny sighed in resignation.  "Fair enough," she said throwing her hands in the air.  They were both seated at a table in Three Broomsticks engaging in a pre-marriage butterbeer. "I still can't believe you made me your best man," Ginny mumbled.

Draco smiled.  "Hey, who else would be?"

"Goyle?" Ginny offered with a shrug.

"Goyle?  No.  He's much too… he'd lose the ring, let's just leave it at that," Draco said, shaking his head.

"Well, what about Ron?"

He raised an eyebrow.  "You're kidding."

"Yeah, I am.  Never mind, forget I said anything.  I am the only reasonable choice for Best Man."

"Indeed, you are.  Bizarre twist of fate, if I do say so myself.  Who would have pictured this after looking at us in Hogwarts?  I never would have dreamed that you'd be my Best Man.  Nor would I have dreamed that I would marry Hermione."

A distant smile passed over Ginny's face.  "I remember imagining my wedding in Hogwarts."

"And who was the groom," Draco asked, a flirty smile on his face, as he leaned in.

Ginny looked down, suddenly sad.  "You had to ask?"

"Oh, him."  Draco lost all trace of playfulness and took a sip of his butterbeer.  "You know, Ginny, he really isn't worth it."

"I know," Ginny said quietly.  "I can't help it.  I just… I'm not sure.  I don't even know where this is going.  It's just that, to me, he' s the only real guy, you know?  Only person I could think of in a romantic sense.  I mean, I tried to move on.  Really, I did.  It just never worked."

Draco placed a hand over hers.  "Well, let me propose something here."  He put on a very serious face.  "In two years, if you still haven't found anyone, I'll leave Hermione and marry you."

Ginny burst out laughing.  "Oh, God, Draco," she said through the peals escaping her throat.  "For Merlin's sake, don't say incredibly ridiculous things like that without giving me warning, alright?"

Draco, who was laughing himself, nodded in agreement.  "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."

As their laughter slowly faded, Ginny thought about the first time she had seen Harry since he left.  Walking out of the Rehearsal Dinner to see him standing there, looking almost exactly the same.  For a moment, she hadn't been sure that she wasn't dreaming, but then he had spoken; he had said her name.  She wasn't sure exactly what he said after that, because she was distracted by the way he said her name.  At Hogwarts, it was always tender, never desperate.  The way he had spit it out, as if he was trying to say it as fast as possible... that was when she decided she had to leave.  That was when she realized that things could never quite be the same as they had been.

"Hey," Draco said quietly.  "Seriously, you shouldn't let him get to you."

"I know," Ginny replied softly.  "I know."  But she really knew that Harry Potter would always be able to get to her.  Always.

A/N: I said you'd get story and look at all that story.  Eight pages of story, my god.  Okay, reviews will be accepted.  And, if you really want to tell us why Draco Malfoy will never be redeemed, go ahead.  We'll just bitch about it in the next chapter.  We'll get over it though.  Cuz, really, we do like reviews.