Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I would go swimming in the ocean. Everyday. For the rest of my life. Because I would live in Tahiti.

Hey, I'm sorry this took so long, but it took a while to tie up all the loose ends. This is the last chapter but there will be a short epilogue in a few days. Thanks to:

louey31: I'm sorry you cried, actually, I'm a little proud of myself for making you cry, but thanks for reviewing anyway
Chaney: I'm sorry.
GoldenFawkes: It would be cruel to let him die, wouldn't it? Find out what happens.
Guineviere: 'waiting patiently'? I probably tried your patience, it took a while to get this written
ladyerudite: Thanks for the review, and now you get to see what happens with Draco!
Flipinpenname: I think I would cry too, if Draco died, the question is…did I cry while writing this?
kiera14: I like your reviews because it has important elements (like maybe Draco having a baby with Ginny to save him) that I need to mention, thanks
QuinkyDink: same as above, I actually addressed the Tonks question in the chapter because it was such a good idea
Jill: It would be cruel to kill Draco after this story's been so happy, but the only way to find out if it is all warm and fuzzy is to read the chapter (and maybe review, lol)
GPGA: I can't complain about the reviews, because all of my reviewers send me lovely reviews that make me happy inside-yours included, thanks for reviewing
CoolMilena: I love psych, it is amazing, and as for another story, I have an idea, I'll put something after the epilogue about my future story
Alexandria J. Malfoy: I think you are my oldest reviewer, and I always look forward to seeing your responses, thanks for always leaving a review
pix: I'm glad that you have hope
mask: love you babe! with the 'flame' you sent, Mrs. Weasley baked a cake and then Mrs Weasley ate the cake
Angelique Collins: you also mentioned the Tonks thing which made me have to explore that possibility, great job
Sarah: I'm sorry it took so long, it's terrible having writers block at the end of a story
Silfion: I love Draco and Blaise like brothers as well, it's such a nice relationship, thanks for reviewing
icicle7: you would think that they would be able to find a cure, now you get to find out if they really did find one
Sara: thanks for the review, it really was well-rounded, and I read over my story a few days ago to cure my writers block, and I cringed at all the spelling errors
Wizzabee: good guess, I actually had to include a bit about the baby idea because it was such a good idea
cam misery: wow, thank you very much for the review, my ego is definitely up a few notches
Darktail: cool, I like being added on peoples alert list, thank you
padfootedmoony: thanks for the review, and here's the next chapter!
Special thanks to Ada Achlys for helping me figure out the incantation thing and for helping beta my ending so that I wasn't forced to end the story with an alien invasion, thanks a lot!

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The museum wing on the Ministry was finished ahead of schedule, and the opening ceremony, which included free tours for all who showed up and a load of visiting dignitaries, was held on January 14. Draco was there of course; in fact he opened the ceremony to the thunderous applause of all present, which included every news team for the England area and also several foreign news reporters.

The museum wing was a huge success, and a perfect ending to Draco's business career. During the party he began to feel a little light headed, but he shrugged it off as a headache and continued greeting the guests. Henri came up to clasp his hand and shake it vigorously.

"My dear Draco," he said, smiling widely. "You should be very proud of yourself. This is a lovely building."

"Thank you, Minister," said Draco.

"But you do not look so lovely. You are not ill, are you?"

Draco hid a wince; he knew he looked terrible. He had lost weight, enough so that his clothes had to be refit so that they did not hang loose, his skin was even paler, and he had deep circles under his eyes that he had tried to hide with a concealment charm, but even the charm couldn't completely hide the black rings. Even his hair looked ill, losing what little pigment he had in it so that it was nearly white and lying limply over his forehead.

"It's nothing Henri," he lied easily. "I'm just a little tired. I've had a few late nights trying to pull this shindig together and all of that."

"Ahh, planning parties just not your forte, eh?"

Draco gave a wan smile; he suddenly felt exhausted and the room spun slightly. "Something like that, Minister."

"Is Ginevra around here?" asked Henri. "I had been hoping to catch up with her as well."

"Last I saw she was with Minister Lupin by the punch bowl if you care to join her," said Draco.

"I believe I shall," said Henri. "If you would excuse me?"

"Of course," said Draco, shaking his hand one more time and letting the Minister slide by. In truth he was glad for the moments rest from smiling and pretending that he was fine. The black veins had reached his fingers on his left hand, hid by gloves, and had begun to trail up his neck, covered by a collar buttoned up all the way.

He closed his eyes for a second, trying to draw in any strength he may have left and came up empty. He began to search the room for Ginny as well; he needed to go home.

"Mr. Malfoy!" called an excited voice. "Can I have a few words?"

Draco found himself face to face with a reporter and he searched desperately in his head for the name he knew that he knew but couldn't latch onto.

"No, I'm sorry," he said, still trying to spot a flash of red among the guests.

"It will just take a minute," said the reporter, motioning for his camera man to start recording. The harsh camera light hit him in the face. Normally, Draco wouldn't have been fazed, and maybe even flashed a charming smile, but the light hit him dead on and pain flared in his already throbbing temples. He could feel the blood just drop from his face in a sudden rush, and the reporter noticed the sudden pallor.

"Are you alright, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Fine," said Draco shortly. "Now if you don't mind…," he tried to step past the reporter, but his way was blocked by a camera.

He blinked. The reporter was saying something, waiting for an answer expectantly, but for the life of him, he had no idea what was said.

"Mr. Malfoy?" asked the reporter.

He caught sight of a black tussled head and bright green eyes across the room. "Excuse me," he said, his tongue heavy in his mouth so the words seemed somewhat garbled.

Harry's emerald gaze caught his grey one and he most have noted the distress because he excuse himself from the couple he was talking to and made his way towards him. Draco exhaled a small sigh of relief and relaxed slightly, relieved to know that someone would see him out of here, but relaxing turned out to be a mistake. He didn't realize that he was standing through sheer will alone and loosening his guard meant that the black he had been fighting off since the beginning of this little party hit him full force. He didn't even have time to try and fight off unconsciousness. He swayed alarmingly, caught sight of Harry lunging to catch him, and then there was nothing.

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It was the quiet that woke him, a peaceful quiet. He stretched and opened his eyes, noting the familiar surroundings of his bedroom, but there were some differences. The heavy drapes were open and late morning sunshine lit the room up brighter than the ornate lamps on the walls. He frowned and turned his head so he could read the clock on his bedside table. It was almost eleven. He swore and sat up, noting that his chest was bare and he was only in a pair of loose green cotton sleep pants. The moment his eyes rested on his black lined chest he remembered the last night and groaned.

He slid out of bed and glanced out of the window. His room looked over the front of the house, well, mansion, and he could see the snow-covered lawns and the curving drive that led from the front entrance to the black gates that stopped trespassers. He could just make out the forms of reporters and camera men that were camped outside the Malfoy property. He glared and stalked into his bathroom.

Twenty minutes later and he was freshly showered and clothed in khakis and a black t-shirt and heading downstairs for something to eat, his socks in his hand. He pushed open the dining room door to find Blaise, Pansy, and Ginny eating a late brunch.

"He's awake," said Blaise, giving him a smile, though his eyes were shadowed and worried. "How are you feeling?"

"Decent," said Draco. "I passed out at the party, didn't I?" He sat next to Ginny, gave her a kiss, and then put on his socks. Ginny filled a plate for him and put it down in front of him.

"I want you to eat all of that," she said, "and yes, you did pass out at the party, right in front of a news camera too. You're going to come up with some excuse, you know, for the news."

"I actually thought Shey might give a statement," said Draco. "Announce my retirement from the business field and also my impending death."

Blaise flinched, like he used to at the name of Voldemort and Pansy gripped her fork a little tighter. Draco forgot that they had just two weeks to get used to the news while Ginny, who didn't react at all at the reference, was now able to make some jokes about it.

"You sure?" asked Ginny.

Draco held up his hands. The black veins covered both of his arms, stopping at the wrist of his right hand, but his left was completely covered, even the fingers.

"It's getting a bit uncomfortable," he said.

Concern sparked in Ginny's eyes. "It hurts?" she asked quietly.

"Tingles slightly," said Draco.

"How long?"

"Just started when I woke up," said Draco.

"Just the hand or your whole arm?" asked Ginny.

"All of it," said Draco, gesturing to his chest as well.

"Close then," said Ginny.

Draco nodded.

"Well," said Ginny. "We had better write up a statement then."

Her tone was nonchalant, but it sounded forced. Draco studied the food in front of him, but then pushed it away. His stomach was clenching and it didn't have anything to do with the curse.

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That afternoon Draco watched the live news broadcast with Ginny by his side. He had called in Bernard Shey and explained the situation to him. Shey had stared at him, gone a little pale, and Draco had pressed a shot of firewhiskey into his hand. After recovering speedily from the news Shey had helped draw up his will, which was updated recently so there were only a few changes, and then he had helped write the news statement.

He had insisted that Draco maintain control of the businesses until his death though.

"It would be easier if I just pulled out," Draco told him.

Bernard shook his head. "No," he said. "If you get better-,"

"I'm not going to get better!" said Draco, thoroughly exasperated.

"I will keep hoping until you are six feet under, Draco," said Bernard. "You're too good to die."

Draco had bristled at being called good, but Ginny had taken his hand and shook her head.

"Let it go, Draco," she said. "And I think that you maintaining control until your death is a good idea otherwise you would have literally nothing to do, and you know how restless that makes you."

"It's not like I can do anything now," said Draco, in a rare burst of self-pity, gesturing to his blackened veins, but he took a breath and let it out slowly. "Alright, Bernard," he said. "Whatever you think best."

Right now he and Ginny were lounging on the couch in his study watching Bernard speak in front of the cameras.

"I am speaking for Draco Malfoy as his legal representative," said Bernard in his deep voice. "As of a few minutes ago, Mr. Malfoy has announced his retirement from the business field."

There was an outbreak of questions and exclamations but Shey raised his hands and continued.

"Mr. Malfoy will still maintain control of his companies, but he cedes authority to Ms. Ginevra Weasley until the time of his death where his companies and assets will be divided according to his will. Are there any questions at this time?"

Of course there were. Shey called on some reporter who asked the question on everyone's lips.

"What do you mean by the time of his death?"

Shey stared straight at the cameras. "Mr. Malfoy is dying from a wound he received from his father, Mr. Lucius Malfoy, during the final battle. He has between one and two months left to live and everything possible is being done to ensure that he does not pass on. As of this moment, the prognosis does not look good, but we have not yet lost hope. I thank you for your time. Good day."

And Shey Apparated back to his law firm leaving reporters to sum up the news for the viewers. Draco turned the news off and turned to Ginny.

"Well, then," he said.

Ginny wordlessly scooted closer to him and he pulled her into an embrace, neither of them speaking but comforted none-the-less.

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The next day brought a horde of mail, even more so when he was sick after the earthquake. Children drew him pictures of their new house and told him 'thank you', his employees sent get well cards, and all of the ministry officials he knew sent deepest sympathy letters. Hermione Flooed over with her children around noon, telling Draco it was an emergency. She stepped out of the front entrance fireplace with Melody, Zak and Vicki-D in her arms. It was immediately apparent what the emergency was.

Zak ran to Draco and clung to his leg crying with huge tears pouring out of his eyes. Draco was astounded; he had never seen the boy without his maniacal grin on his face.

"I don't want you to go 'way to the happy place!" he sobbed, leaving Draco to gaze at Hermione in confusion. Melody was also crying, though burying her face in her mother's robe.

"He saw the news report this morning," said Hermione. "My fault, I turned it on without thinking, and then we had to tell him what dying meant. We told him that it meant you were going away to heaven for along time but that you would still love him, but he became really distraught, and, well, like he is now. We thought maybe you could talk to him."

Draco looked down at the boy in askance, but picked him up. Zak threw his tiny arms around Draco's neck and sobbed even harder. Hermione and Ginny left, with Ginny taking Vicki-D so that Hermione could hold Melody, leaving Draco alone with Zak in the entrance. Draco walked over the wide marble stairs and sat down, rubbing Zak's back and trying to sooth him.

"Hey, kiddo," he said. "It's alright."

"Don' want you to go," Zak hiccupped, the cries slowing gradually.

"I know," said Draco. "I don't want to go either; I'm going to miss teaching you how to play Quidditch and all, but it won't be for forever."

"But it's still a long time," said Zak.

"Yes," said Draco, "yes, it is." He searched about trying to find something comforting to say. What were people in this sort of situation supposed to say? No doubt something like 'I'll always be with you' and 'I'll be watching you from a better place', but he doubted they would work for a three year old, not to mention completely cliché.

"It'll hurt for awhile," he said, "and you may feel sad, but the feeling will fade, and you'll be able to tell all of your friends about your big brother who was the best big brother in the world and how he took you flying even though your mom used to get mad at me when I went too fast and that he wants you to be happy even after he's gone."

Zak sniffed, and Draco didn't know how much he had understood, but he had stopped crying, so that must mean he did a good job. He picked the kid back up and went to find Ginny and Hermione. The two women were in the library, Hermione looking through a few books and Melody obviously helping her. Draco smirked at that; looks like Hogwarts was going to get another bookworm.

"Thanks," said Hermione, looking up and smiling at her son who was no longer sobbing. "Do you mind if I take some of these books home, Draco?" she asked. "I'm doing some research on your condition and I think these might help."

"Sure," said Draco. "In fact, I'll let Rolly know that you have permission to access the libraries anytime."

"Libraries?" asked Hermione, her eyes lighting up. "As in plural?"

Draco grinned. "Yeah," he said, then became serious. "Hermione, you don't have to keep searching. There's no cure and you, all of you, won't be failing me if you can't find anything."

Hermione nodded, but didn't look swayed. "We're going to keep looking," she said, "until your body is rotting away six feet underground, and nothing you can say will stop us. We care about you, Draco, and you're going to have to let us do this."

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Draco spent the next week in an easy pattern. He woke up in the morning and had breakfast with Ginny and then they retired to his study where they went over business plans until lunch which they had with Blaise, Pansy, and their kids. Then Ginny would go into work and Draco would spend time with Blaise and Pansy and whoever else came over during the afternoon.

The wards were now set so that any member of the family could come over at anytime and visit and there was never a day when Draco didn't have any visitors. It made him wonder if the family had planned it that way.

Sometimes Ron skipped work and came over to play a game of chess, bringing the children and Hermione with him, though Hermione usually retired to the library. Harry came rather often as Quidditch practice wasn't too time demanding yet, and Padma accompanied him. Sev came nearly every day, content just to watch his godson play chess with Ron or talk with Blaise, or Pansy or Harry. Mrs. Weasley also came often, usually bringing with her some home-cooked meal or dessert, trying to get him to eat.

Even with all of the visiting and cheerful faces, Draco slipped into a slight depression. His sarcastic, cutting side was revealed once again and he and Ginny fought more than ever, though she would never walk out any more, settling for resolving the issue right then and not wasting anymore time on running. He was bored without the constant work of his companies and his sessions with Ginny just weren't the same as really being in charge. The inactivity annoyed him and he grew irritable, restless, and he knew that he was bad company and wished that people would just stop visiting him, but they didn't, and Draco knew that it was just because he was dying that no one would tell him to shut up. He hated it; he hated that they would put up with him out of pity.

Ginny was the one to stop it. After he had made a completely rude and biting comment to Harry about his dead parents (Harry merely looked away), Ginny got up, marched over to where he was lounging indolently on the couch, and slapped him. No, not slapped, punched.

"What the hell was that for?" Draco yelled, eyes blazing with fury as he surged to his feet, his hands flying to his nose that was spurting blood.

"It was because Harry has too many manners to do it himself," said Ginny. "Yes, Draco, you are dying, but that does not give you the right to act however you please. I really thought that you were more mature than this, no, you are more mature than this. You know what, I'm leaving. I'll be at work and when I come home I want to see the Draco Malfoy that I fell in love with, not this spoiled, arrogant child!"

With that, Ginny stormed out of the room. Draco stared after her in shock and then slumped back onto the couch, his nose still dribbling blood. There was an uncomfortable silence, at least uncomfortable for Harry, Padma and Sev who were all in the room as well, though Sev was smirking slightly. Draco was too busy thinking, reviewing his behavior and deciding that he had been acting rather child-like.

He looked up at Harry. "I'm sorry," he said, swiping the blood away with the back of his hand with the back of his hand. "That was absolutely uncalled for and wrong of me to say and I apologize."

Harry stared at him, then threw back his head and laughed. "She's really got you whipped, hasn't she?" he asked, and Draco glared.

That evening, Ginny came back to the Estate to find a trail of rose petals leading her into the private dining room, which was covered in flowers and lit by hundreds of candles. Draco was there, with a sheepish smile, to take her coat and brief case and to sit her in a chair. Then he apologized on bended knee and presented her with a pair of gold and emerald earrings as an 'I've been a jerk' present. She smiled with tears in her eyes, forgave him with a kiss, and they had a thoroughly romantic evening.

The next day, Harry and Padma approached him with a solution for his boredom.

"We want to get married," said Harry, squeezing Padma's hand.

"Yes," said Draco. "You've told me. That's why she has a ring on her finger."

"No," said Harry. "We want you to be there; it's only fair that you get to see us get married after throwing us together. We want to get married Sunday. This Sunday."

Draco stared. "That's in five days," he said.

"Which is why we need your help," said Harry. "We want you to help plan it. You are used these big party things and know how they work."

Draco nodded, already in thought. "How big do you want it?" he asked.

"Big," said Padma.

"Not necessarily big in guest big," clarified Harry, "but fancy, extravagant. Money's not a problem."

Draco didn't think it would be since Harry was paid extremely well as Seeker and so he nodded again. "Alright," he said. "Who are you going to invite?"

Over the next five days, Draco found himself as busy as he was after the earthquake and he loved every minute of it. He called in favors from fashion designers to get all of the bridesmaids and groomsmen fitted and spent nearly a full day with Padma and Mrs. Weasley picking out dress patterns and then Pansy cornered him to discuss decorations and what not for the ceremony and also for the reception afterwards. It was a little difficult because Padma kept changing her mind on wedding colors.

It seemed the whole family had their own opinions on what to do and when, and trying to get them all in to be fitted for their dress robes was murder. Draco knew that on top of worrying about the wedding, everyone was also keeping a sharp eye on him as well, but they needn't have worried. Draco was so much improved, it shocked even himself. His skin regained some of its color, not that he had much to begin with, and his hair was once again white-blond as opposed to just white. He even gained a few, badly needed pounds. He felt energetic again, and his smirk was once again playing at his lips. He even managed to forget about his death one night when he was finalizing plans for a small string ensemble for music, at least until Hermione dragged him into the library to explain something.

"I found this in one of the older books on curses," she said. "I had to translate it and all, but basically it says that the curse was once an actual spell."

"Right," said Draco, who had heard this already from the specialists. "Purebloods usually used the curse on sons who had fallen in love with Muggle women or if they had dealings with Muggle-borns. However in spell form the curse was too easily reversed, so they put it in swords or daggers."

"Or in potions," said Hermione, "but an antidote was found."

"It wouldn't work on me," said Draco, shaking his head. "Potions and cursed weapons are two different things."

"I know," said Hermione, "but look what I found. I think it's the original incantation used to put the curse in the weapon. This book is an account of Salazar Slytherin and apparently he was the one to first put the curse in weapons and the like. The reason that no one ever dies from the curse any more is because the incantation was lost and the only way it was passed on is through heirlooms. Here, read it."

Hermione handed him the old book and Draco peered at the passage and then read it out loud.

"The Betrayal of Faith met with the Betrayal of Blood,
The Silver of Steel holds the Curse of Seven Years
The Sentence is Bound with unbreakable chains
For when Blood seeks out Blood,
And when Love casts Death
No Power can stay the Sword
So the Judgment of Kin holds True 'lest Forgiveness is passed."

"You have cousins still alive, like Tonks. Would that work?" asked Hermione.

"No," said Draco, shaking his head.

"Why not?" asked Hermione.

"This is based on Ancient Blood Magic," said Draco. "The rule for blood magic is that the connection must be strong. This curse was made in the times when the wizarding race was predominantly pureblooded and blood lines were being crossed all over the place and most families were at war with each other. Because there weren't many wizards or witches to get married too, many times bitter enemies were aunts or uncles or cousins to each other. That meant that the enemy would be able to undo any wards or safety spells that were blood based. So the wards and curses dealing with blood magic became very specific in what blood would work them."

"What if you had a child?" asked Hermione.

Draco gave a snort of laughter. "Little late for that," he said, "but even then, no. This says 'kin' which in ancient wizarding times meant immediate family. This curse in particular needs very specific blood. This way, my Aunt Bella could stab me with the dagger, but the curse wouldn't work because I'm not closely enough related to her, but it also means that she couldn't stop it. Of course, she's dead, so it wouldn't matter if she could. I would need to be forgiven by my father, or my mother."

"Oh,' said Hermione. "That specific? Really?"

"If it wasn't," said Draco, "then an aunt who was on the opposite side could assassinate a family member, which wouldn't be that problematic because the family could just forgive them, but it would meant that the aunt could also forgive a nephew or niece that was under the curse, and ruin the families judgment."

"How is forgiveness passed?" asked Hermione.

"A ritual of types," said Draco, "with chanting and blood-letting. You can find it in a few books."

"So this really doesn't help any, does it?" asked Hermione.

"Not really," said Draco.

"I'm sorry," said Hermione, sincerely.

"Don't be," said Draco. "The fact that you're trying means a lot to me, so thank you."

Hermione gave him a smile. "Well, I had better go home," she said. "I have to get up bright and early to try on a bridesmaid dress. Good night, Draco."

"Good night," he said. She gave him a quick hug and then went to Floo home.

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To say that the wedding went off without a hitch would be a lie. Minister Lupin, who was conducting the ceremony, arrived fifteen minutes late due to unforeseeable circumstances, Padma's dress was without one sleeve because the tailor hadn't been able to finish it, the large ballroom that was going to be used for the ceremony was horribly charred early Sunday morning because one of the hired cooks had left a candle burning which caught a tapestry.

Draco was not to be deterred. The Minister's tardiness allowed for Mrs. Weasley to be able to take the sleeve off of the dress and add simple silver straps instead and Draco and Pansy spent all of Sunday morning moving decorations out in the marquee, a beautiful canopy of glass and metal lattice work that jutted off of the west wing. There were no walls, just sculpted pillars holding the roof up and the floor was grey, tiled stone. Because it was winter, several advanced heating charms had to be placed, but the house elves had done it before and within two hours the ceiling was decorated with lines of ivy strung through the metal work and the pillars were hung with lilies and white roses.

The marquee was faced the fountain in the backyard, and so Draco had a heating charm put on that as well so the frozen water melted. It was truly beautiful to look out over the snow-covered lawn with the rushing fountain and as the wedding theme was silver, ivory, and frost blue it appeared as though the entire grounds had been decorated to match.

After the extremely harrowing morning Draco put on the tuxedo Padma had finally decided on and checked his reflection in the mirror, casting a charm to hide the black veins on his hands and neck. The grey of the suit matched his eyes perfectly and made his hair look even blonder. He ran to Ginny's room to see how she was doing and found the gaggle of girls from the family all curling their hair and doing make-up. They pulled him into the room to fuss over him, making remarks about 'gold hair and silver eyes' until Ginny took pity on him and sent him away with a kiss.

He found Harry in a right state in one of the guest rooms with Ron and Blaise trying to calm him down while Charlie and Bill merely laughed, Percy snorted, and Fred and George (who were to be paired up with two of Padma's bridesmaid friends) told jokes and juggled their baby blue boutonnières.

What felt like a century later Harry was finally standing nervously at the altar, with Lupin smiling gently down on him and all of the groomsmen lined up behind him. The quartet struck up the music and the procession began. Draco noticed Harry wipe sweaty palms on his pants as the flower-girls and then the bridesmaids walked down the aisle. Draco only had eyes for Ginny, who followed Hermione. Her hair was pulled into a low bun, decorated with sprigs of small white flowers and several curls framed her face. The dress was a simple pale blue sheath dress, but with a slight train in the back. She looked absolutely elegant, and absolutely beautiful.

There were gasps when Padma finally appeared, the silver straps really fit the dress and no one could tell it was originally supposed to have sleeves. What was the most striking was the radiant smile on her face, which made the couples there flash back to their own wedding day. Once Padma reached Harry there was a pause so that the photographer (Colin Creevey) could take a few shots, and for everyone else to take in the full affect of five days planning. Harry and Padma both wore white, while Ron, directly behind Harry wore a light grey and Hermione, directly behind Padma wore a pale blue. Draco and Ginny were next in the line up with Draco's suit a shade darker grey and Ginny's dress a shade darker blue. And so it continued with the end couple wearing charcoal grey, that looked silver, and a deep ice blue. With the fading to white color scheme and the fountain in the background and the sun causing the snow to sparkle, it was hailed as a perfect wedding, and while Draco knew the truth, he wasn't going to tell.

After the reception, which went off without a hitch, the guests saw Harry and Padma off on a portkey, decorated with a bow of ivory ribbon, which would take them to a tropical island for two weeks of paradise and then slowly headed home. Later that night Draco lay in bed staring into the dark and then finally the sliver of light as Ginny peeked in, wearing a cute pants and tank top pajama outfit.

"Are you awake?" she whispered.

"Yeah," said Draco. She came in and shut the door, then padded across the room in bare feet and slid into bed beside him. She snuggled close and rested her head against his chest.

"I would like a wedding like that," she mused drowsily. Draco stiffened slightly, and she wrapped her arms around him. "But I like you better than any old white dress," she said. He could feel her head turn up to his and he searched in the dark for her mouth, kissing her nose and cheeks in the process before sliding his lips onto hers. He fell asleep with a content smile on his face.

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Draco heard a voice down the hall, Ginny's voice to be precise.

"Ohhhh, you are so tan, I'm jealous, I only burn."

"Most of this was a burn," said Padma's voice, laughing. "But it faded."

"So how was it?" Ginny asked.

"Brilliant," said Harry.

"I'm talking about your honeymoon, not the sex Harry," said Ginny, and Draco smirked slightly at that. Harry spluttered and Padma giggled.

"Sunny and hot and perfect," said Padma. "Where's Draco, I have to thank him. Did you know that he paid for the entire trip, and also left a credit card for us to use?"

"I may have helped him," said Ginny. "He's in here, come on."

The door to the sun parlor opened and Ginny came in followed by Harry and Padma, who stopped and stared horror-struck at him. He gave a wry smile.

"Hey, you two lovebirds have fun?" he asked.

"Holy shit," Harry breathed as Padma covered her mouth.

"That bad?" asked Draco. "I heard you tell Ginny that you had a blast."

Harry kept staring at him. "Draco, you look…you look…," he trailed off.

Draco tried not to sigh in annoyance; he knew how he looked. He looked like death warmed over. In the two weeks Harry and Padma had been gone, the curse had struck with a vengeance. He had lost more weight, every inch of fat and muscle gone, leaving his skin stretched over nothing but bone. The black veins had reached both of his hands, all over his entire torso and also up his neck and the left side of his lower cheek. It seemed to have stopped spreading, but the grey area around the scar had spread to cover a fourth of his chest. His hair was once again white and lying limp on a head with gaunt features that made his already angular face even more pointed. Even his eyes seemed dulled, due to the pain that racked his suddenly frail body.

"Devilishly handsome?" Draco asked, his smirk still finding its way onto his lips.

"I was going to say 'like hell', but devilishly handsome is close enough," said Harry, recovering quickly.

Draco gave him a tired smile. "You just missed Ron and Hermione," he said.

"They were here?" asked Harry.

"They come over a lot," said Ginny, coming over to Draco's side to fix the pillows that kept him propped up as he shifted. "They all do."

"Why didn't you contact us?" asked Harry. "We would have come back sooner if-,"

"Harry," said Draco. "I'm dying; it's old news. Besides, I've still got a week or so left."

Harry sat down heavily on the couch across from Draco's sofa. "A week," he muttered to himself. "Why hasn't he come yet?"

"Who?" asked Draco.

"Oh, a friend," said Harry vaguely. They got to discussing the honeymoon and Draco slowly started drifting to sleep, though he couldn't drift off all of the way and stayed in some sort of hazy state.

"How bad is he?" asked Padma quietly.

"Bad," said Ginny softly. "He was fine for a few days after you guys left, but one morning he could barely make it downstairs, and it just got worse. He's been sleeping in the downstairs bedroom, because the doctor's been coming in so often with potions and what not. They help with the pain a little, but there's nothing else to do."

"Pain?" asked Harry.

"The curse basically released some sort of poison in his veins. The black veins is where his untainted blood tried fighting off the poison, but now that the spreading has stopped, it means that his body has stopped fighting, so now it's just a matter of time before the poison takes over and kills him. That's why he got so sick so quickly; he reached critical point where the poison was in greater quantity than his blood, so his body stopped fighting."

"Does he sleep a lot?" asked Padma.

"It's another reason why he's down here," said Ginny. "The family has been coming over to visit, so we just bring Draco in here during the day so that we're not continually moving him when he wakes up to see people."

"How is everyone else taking it?" asked Harry.

"As best they can," said Ginny. "Zak comes here as often as he can, Hermione comes to so she can check the library. Dragon is constantly with Draco, but I think it's hitting Snape the hardest. He's actually coming around later today."

Draco shivered a little, feeling chills creep up on him. He was usually cold, but he felt Ginny tuck another blanket around him then kiss his forehead.

"I love you," she whispered, and he slowly drifted off.

He awoke to soft sobs, and immediately identified them as Ginny's. He struggled to open his eyes, but it required too much energy.

"It's okay to cry," said a smooth voice Draco recognized as his godfather's.

"It just hurts so much when I look at him," Ginny cried, her voice catching and choking out the words. "Sometimes I wish that I didn't love him so much it hurts so bad."

"Love is pain," said Severus. "But we decide what sort of pain it is, if it is the ache of never knowing whatlovet is, or the agony of loving and losing."

"An ache doesn't hurt as much as agony," cried Ginny. "It's not fair!"

"But if we choose the agony, we find that in time it soothes into comfort, and when we think back, all we remember is the sunshine and laughter."

"Alright," said Ginny, a new note in her voice. "There is no way you are saying that just off the top of your head."

"Dumbledore told me that one dark night," said Severus.

"Was he right?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," said Sev, softly. "Yes, he was."

There was silence for a while, then Ginny spoke.

"He loves you," she said.

"I know," said Severus. "I love him too, like he was my own son."

More silence.

"I'm going to get a cup of tea," said Severus. "I'll return in a few moments."

He heard his godfather exit the room and tried again to open his eyes, this time he succeeded.

"Ginny?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

She turned to him, her eyes full of tears, somehow knowing that he had heard the conversation. "Don't say you're sorry," she said, cutting of the apology that was on his lips. "It was worth it; you are worth it."

"I love you," Draco whispered. "I love you so much."

"I know," said Ginny, "that's why it's worth it. I could never find anyone else who loves me like you do, and you could never find anyone who loves you like me."

Draco shook his head. "You are so easy to love," he said, his voice quiet. "You are smart, funny, passionate, and so damn beautiful."

"I have an awful temper, I jump to conclusions, and I don't apologize well. I also hit my boyfriend," said Ginny.

Draco laughed, then winced. "It's why you're so perfect," he said.

"Because I'm imperfect?" asked Ginny. "That doesn't make any sense."

"It doesn't have to," said Draco. Ginny moved to lie next to him on the couch. It was a large sofa so there was lots of room. "When I'm dead," Draco began, but Ginny covered his mouth.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," she said, removing her hand to give him a kiss.

"I just want you to be happy," said Draco. "There is so much I want to give you that I can't. Some lucky bastard is going to meet you one day and he's going to give you your fairytale wedding and a big house on a hill and he's going to make you the happiest woman on earth."

"And you'll be hating him from the grave," said Ginny.

"How can I?" asked Draco. "I'll have no choice but to love him because he makes you smile and laugh and-,"

"Stop," said Ginny, a sob in her voice again.

"I don't want to die, Ginny," said Draco, holding onto her. "Not now. Not when I have you." He buried his head in her hair as she cried, but for some reason the tears in his own eyes wouldn't fall.

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As another week passed, Draco took one more step away from life. His waking moments became more common, but his lucid moments became even scarcer. He was hardly aware of what was going on around him, the pain had to be stifled with more and more medicines that caused the world to slip by like a movie played in fast-forward.

He was aware of a few things. He knew when his godfather was with him by a silky voice that spoke in pleasing and varying inflections. He was able to deduct that he was reading a story from the snippets he caught when the pain forced him further into reality, but the smooth voice seemed to block it out and allow him respite.

He was aware of people sometimes as well, there voices telling him over and over that 'he' was coming to help, he just needed to hang on, but he didn't know who 'he' was or what he was supposed to hang onto.

He was also aware of Ginny, though as days passed he was only aware of a cool, soothing touch when he was plagued by images of a field and a storm, and also of soft whispers that warmed him.

That whisper was there again, but it wasn't soothing, instead it seemed to be full of energy. His world was tilting, and then moving, and there was pain, but then it stopped. The pain allowed him to translate the whisper into 'He's here', but what it meant, he didn't know. There was another whisper, this one saying 'Don't die', and that one he understood.

He was dying, he remembered now, and there seemed to be a harsh wind which must be how death came. He didn't think he wanted to die, so he fought off the wind, but all he could sense was a chanting rhythm and a flash of pain in his hand. There was silence then, and then pain everywhere, but it wasn't just pain, there was a field, with grass, but there was a storm, a voice, an angry voice and the wind reached out to grab him. It hurt, oh Merlin, it hurt. The field seemed to be flashing, the voice screaming in his ears, but there was chanting as well again and the chanting was coming from the dark haze.

He was being torn, the storm and the voice grabbing at him, ripping at him, but the chanting and the haze seemed to call him. It was loud, too loud, too loud and too bright, he wanted it all to stop, just to STOP! He froze, eyes focusing in on a small ruby-red butterfly. The butterfly flitted about in the field, then slowly turned towards the haze and was lost among the grey. He took one step towards the haze, and the voice on the wind screamed at him, latching onto him. He jerked free and jumped into the dark. There was a blinding flash of agony, and then the haze descended.

-------------------------------------------------------

The haze was clearing, and clearing out rather quickly, blown away by a stream of pain. His thoughts were murky and muddled and in a desperate attempt to fix it, he snapped open his eyes.

He was in bed, in his bed, and the estate. He blinked, turning his head to meet the twinkling blue eyes of none other than Albus Dumbledore.

"Good morning, Draco," said the old wizard, smiling from underneath his long grey beard. "Or rather, good afternoon. How are you feeling?"

Draco had so many questions running through his mind right then, all he could do was answer the one he knew. "I'm okay," he lied as he answered (he felt like crap), but then he moved onto more pressing matters. "What happened?"

"You nearly died," said Dumbledore. "Seems your father nearly succeeded in bring you to the grave after him. You have Ms. Hermione Weasley to thank for you recovery."

"She found a cure?" Draco asked, voice cracking and rough from disuse.

"No," said Dumbledore. "She found this, the original incantation used to put the curse in the sword." He pulled out the book Hermione had showed him.

Draco frowned. "But that didn't say anything," he said, his confusion managing to make his head throb even worse, a feat he thought was impossible.

"On the contrary," said Dumbledore, "it said a lot. Let me explain." He cleared his throat and read. "'The Betrayal of Faith met with the Betrayal of Blood', which of course is your actions betraying the pureblood's beliefs and your father betraying you by stabbing you. 'The Silver of Steel holds the Curse of Seven Years' which is the dagger obviously. 'The Sentence is Bound with unbreakable chains', which is your death sentence and that it could not be broken because 'When Blood seeks out Blood and when Love casts Death, no Power can stay the Sword'. Now that is referencing the reasons why no one else can help you and finally 'The Judgment of Kin holds True 'lest Forgiveness is passed'."

Draco stared at him.

"Do you see why we were able to break the curse, Draco?" asked Dumbledore.

Draco shook his head.

"It gives the reasons the curse is so strong. 'When Blood seeks out Blood' is one of them. There are precious few things stronger than the ties of family, and when used in blood magic, like the knife, there are even fewer things that can break it, but the key is in the next line 'when Love casts Death'. Do you see it now?"

Draco shook his head again.

"It's love, Draco," said Dumbledore. "When someone loves someone so much to kill them, nothing stands in the way of that curse, just like when someone loves someone so much, they can stop death."

"Harry's mother," said Draco.

"Exactly," said Dumbledore.

"But," said Draco, hopelessly confused, "Lucius didn't love me. He never did."

"Exactly," said Dumbledore again. "In fact, he hated you, so he did not 'cast Death' in Love, but in Hate, and so the curse was not bound in its 'unbreakable chains'. To be sure, Hate is a powerful thing to reckon with, which is why we nearly lost you, but the Love of your new family was more powerful than the blood magic and is much stronger than Hate."

Draco stared at Dumbledore, trying to take it all in. Dumbledore smiled gently at his expression.

"There is someone who has been waiting to speak with you," he said. "So I will let you two converse and then you should take a pain reliever for that headache of yours."

He got up from the chair he was sitting in, but Draco had another question.

"I thought you were on vacation," he said, "and that you were inaccessible."

Dumbledore smiled. "I had a feeling that I would be needed again, so I left Harry with a means to contact me should the need arrive. I came just in time to show Ms. Weasley the loophole in the curse, and save your life, which is indeed worth saving. I am very proud of you, Draco. The things you have done for England is astounding." His inclined his head to Draco, his smile widening. "Good day, Draco."

Dumbledore left the room and Ginny came in, shutting the door quietly behind her. She sat in the chair Dumbledore had vacated.

"How are you feeling?" she asked quietly, taking his hand.

"Okay," said Draco, still trying to work through the fact that after nearly seven years of believing that he was dying, all of a sudden he was fine. "I'm not dying," he said after a while, just to confirm that fact.

"You're not dying," she said, her face splitting into a large smile. "Look at your hands."

He did so. His skin was pale, too pale, but there were no more black marks, though there was a bandage around his hand.

"Your scar is gone too," said Ginny. She pulled down the blankets and helped him pull up his shirt and stare at the smooth unblemished skin of his side.

Draco lay back down on the pillows and let Ginny tuck him back in.

"What happened to my hand?" he asked finally.

"A forgiveness ritual," said Ginny. "With lots of chanting and letting of blood." She held up a hand that was similarly bandaged.

He nodded and stared at the ceiling, brain still trying to get hold of the fact that he wasn't going to die.

"I thought you would be happier," said Ginny.

"I still can't believe it," said Draco. "I-I'm not-,"

"You're not dying," said Ginny.

Draco turned to her. "And you still love me? It wasn't the curse making you fall in love?"

She shook her head, smiling. "I love you, Draco Malfoy. And you are going to give me a big, fairytale wedding, and a house on a hill, though this one's okay too, and you are going to make me smile and laugh and you are going to make me the happiest woman in the world."

Draco's throat constricted and he reached out a hand to her. She took his hand and lay next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. He found enough strength to wrap his arms around her, and she tilted her head up to see tears slide from grey eyes.

"I love you," he whispered to her. "I love you so much."

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Woot! Epilogue to come in a few days. If you have read this story, and liked it, please leave a review.