The first think she became aware as she was waking from a restless sleep was a gentle caress on her cheek. She smiled to herself.
Draco.
Tender grey-blue eyes flitted fleetingly through her mind until it registered that she was not in the manor, and even if she had been Draco would never touch her. Not anymore. Not like before.
Her eyelids fluttered open still blurry with sleep. Piercing emerald green eyes was the first thing she encountered when her eyes focused and adjusted to the dark.
Harry.
Long ago before the defeat of Voldemort Harry had been lost in a world of self-pity refusing to share his burden of guilt and duty, nobody had seemed to understand his mood swings and belligerent behavior.
He wanted to be left alone to dwell on things and lose himself in doubt and anger but, although Ginny hadn't completely understood the pain he suffered through, she had been there for him when no one else had and in so doing had established a friendship that surpassed even his relationship with Ron and Hermione. It had been so hard to cut him out of her life.
"Harry?" she whispered. Perhaps she was hallucinating. She did not want, nor did she need another confrontation, especially from someone she admired and loved like Harry.
"Hey Ginny, how've you been?" he whispered and she unwillingly laughed bitterly tears forming behind her eyes.
It must have been obvious to him if not anybody else. Harry's eyes darkened as he stared down at her and she wondered sadly what he saw as he stared at her feeble frame and pale face. Did he recognize her? How could he when she no longer recognized herself.
He sat down then beside her and she sat up, facing him, her mournful brown eyes staring into his piercing green ones.
He gently took her hand and entwined his fingers in hers.
"What has he done Ginny? What did he do to you?" He whispered sorrowfully and Ginny tore her gaze from his eyes and ripped her hand from his grasp.
Why must they question her? This was why she'd cut herself off from them. She didn't want to remember the horrible things that had happened. She didn't want to re-live it anymore. She was tired of crying and remembering, always remembering. Their questions only tore at her heart.
"Don't Harry, leave it be. I don't want to get into it." She said squeezing her eyes closed against the memories she'd managed to store away.
"Ginny…" Harry trailed off hopelessly, afraid to push her but desperately wanting to help.
Ginny scrambled off the bed and readjusted her rumpled skirt and mussed up hair.
"Happy birthday Harry," was all she could manage before apparating back to the manor.
The usual silence that greeted her in the manor seemed to shroud around her. She heard nothing.
She realized then that she had forgotten all the robes and dresses she'd purchased with Hermione. Oh well. She liked the dull gray that consisted of her wardrobe. It suited her mood perfectly. She wouldn't be going to Diagon alley anytime soon anyways.
She gave a weary sigh. That had been a disaster.
She stared down the dark hallway that led her from the foyer onto the main floor of the house and was unwilling to move forward.
She suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to run from the manor and its stillness, lifeless halls. She couldn't be content with it anymore. Not after glimpsing the life she'd previously lived. She was tired of being lonely. She didn't want to mourn anymore walking about as if in a daze. She wanted to live.
She wanted the happiness her and Draco had shared before the pain and agony had settled between them causing a wall that she hadn't been able, or wanted to, tear down.
She glanced at the clock on the wall that indicated that Draco was currently in the office.
She missed her husband.
She turned and left the manor, letting the door behind her slam with a resounding clack that echoed throughout the silent halls of the house.
She apparated in front of the ministry, desperately wanting to see Draco. She went through the regular process until she stood in front of Draco's office. With a deep cleansing breath she put her hand on the doorknob.
They had been through so much but if they could just talk and start to work things out maybe it could go back to the way it had been before.
She turned it slowly, hesitating with doubt.
She loved him and wanted to work it out. He would agree that the silence was overbearing.
Slowly she pushed the door open and was going to gracefully glide in and relish in the look of surprise that she'd be greeted with.
Instead she was the one who stopped cold in her tracks, rooted to the spot in shock.
His back was facing her but she could plainly see the delicate blonde in his grasp, her arms wound around his neck her head resting on his shoulder.
She stifled a cry of horror then fled, leaving the door ajar, before they noticed her presence.
She left the ministry tears flowing freely down her face.
This explained everything, the late nights, the distance and cool indifference. With a sob she stumbled down the street, unable to apparate afraid to splinch herself in two in her current state.
She stopped in the middle of the busy side-walk in muggle England and took a cleansing breath, forcing herself to calm down. Where would she go? She didn't want to go to the manor, with its deafening silence. She didn't want to be alone.
Ron. Harry. Hermione. The three names flashed through her mind and she knew she wanted to be with them. With a determination she hadn't felt in years she found an empty clearing and apparated to her brothers flat.
Draco set Sheila upon the leather sofa in the corner of his office and with a flick of his wand he got charmed a cool cloth to place on her head.
She groaned.
"Are you alright Sheila? That was quite a nasty spill." He said worriedly gazing at the bump on her head with a frown.
Sheila McAllistar was Draco's longtime secretary and good friend. She'd come into the office to give him missed messages when she'd slipped on a fallen pencil and banged her head on the corner of her desk. He'd had to pick her up off the floor.
"Damn, Malfoy, what are you doing leaving stray pencils about?" she demanded angrily with a heavily American accented voice and he chuckled relieved to see she was back to her old self.
"Sheila, take the rest of the day off and get that useless husband of yours to bring you to see a doctor." He said jokingly.
She laughed then and shook her head. She stood up and discarded the cloth onto his desk.
"No, I'll be fine." She said dismissively. "Speaking of my hubby, he asked me to invite you and your wife to dinner." She said and Dracos smile faded.
He felt the familiar pain stab at him wherever Ginny was concerned.
"That won't be possible." He said and Sheila sighed. "Oh come on Malfoy. Why are you hiding her away? I'm sure she'd not that ugly." Sheila joked and Draco looked up sharply.
"Don't speak about her like that." He said his tone harsh. Sheila's eyes widened.
"Sorry." She said and after an awkward silence she left the office.
Draco stared at her retreating back with regret, he hadn't meant for it to come out as harsh as it had.
With a sigh he fell into his chair and ran a hand through his blonde hair.
He didn't know what to do anymore. He missed the vibrant beautiful woman he'd married. He missed the intimacy they had once shared. He cursed out loud. His stupidity and his dark obsession had pushed her away from him and each day he watched her fade into nothing her spark gone, devoid of any emotion but pain.
He didn't know what to do anymore. He didn't know how to help her.