BOTH SIDES NOW

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is not mine..


Part Five

How do you know if you have fallen in love? That was the question that was running through Ginny's mind over the next few weeks.

If it was yearning for that person at odd hours of the day, feeling as if your heart would implode when he touched you, feeling a delicious sense of peacefulness when you rested your head on his shoulder, then, yes, Ginny had fallen irrevocably in love with Draco Malfoy.

There was a powerful heated intensity to what they shared – something Ginny had never experienced before. Perhaps because all her previous relationships had been when she was a mere teenager, when the boys involved had been more her friend than her lover and had been rather young and inexperienced themselves.

Maybe it was because she was older now and this was how grownup relationships were like. Yet, deep down, Ginny knew otherwise – what she had with Draco was beyond ordinary.

For here she was with a man she had been bred to hate, trained to kill and yet instead of inciting hate and destruction in her, he excited her and calmed her at the same time – it was a wondrous feeling.

With one look, he made her toes curl with desire. With one gentle caress, he completely floored her. With one kiss, she was fully undone.

Yet, when they lay in bed together, after passionate lovemaking, she felt safe and secure in his arms as they talked or sometimes simply enjoyed the silence.

When they would go up to her rooftop in the cover of the night and he would point out the entire constellation, even Scorpio the one that stung the quickest and hurt the most, Ginny felt calm and contented being with him, beside him.

After a while the only thing that could lull her into sleep was the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as her head rested on it.

She finally understood what Harry was going on about finding someone who was your greatest source of comfort. For that was exactly what Draco was for her.

He was also a really good listener, making it easy for her to open up to him - save for the few times he would make a few mandatory snide remarks whenever she mentioned her brother, Hermione or Harry.

He too talked about himself, about how Pansy had been the first girl he had slept with. He told her how he never wanted to join the Deatheaters and had been forced to do so but after a while, he had made it work to his advantage, learning a lot while under the wings of Snape and Voldermort. He told her about how he ruled the rest of his housemates while at Hogwarts just because he was a Malfoy.

Yet, at times, she felt as if he was not as open to her as she was to him. He was always so evasive when it came to himself, his intentions, his aspirations and his family, revealing only what was necessary for her to know. If she pressed him for details, he would either change the topic or disrupt her train of thoughts by kissing her.

Nonetheless, Ginny did not hold it against him – she herself rarely talked about her work to him, preferring not to divulge any details about the Malfoy case that he did not already know.

Besides, as Ginny began to realize, love did not really have a conscience.

Who cared about what was not being said, about the little lies told - like the time she lied to him about losing the previous portkey so he had to give her another one to get to the Malfoy Manor – who cared about what was right or wrong when Draco was around.

Like the time Draco revealed that he found the Dark Arts very compelling, as she browsed through the books in the Malfoy Library at the Malfoy Manor and observed aloud that they were mostly pertaining to the Dark Arts.

He explained how he had been raised to have a reverence for the amount of power Dark Arts held. He had a thirst to learn all that there was to know about it. Ginny could see that. It was evident in the feral gleam in his eyes as he spoke about it, how it could suck a wizard in and wind up controlling the wizard, if the wizard was not strong enough to rein it in and use it for his own gains.

His words should have sent her scuttling in the other direction but his uncharacteristic display of emotion as he spoke about the Dark Arts, only helped her understand him in an even greater depth, making her care for him even more.

There were times when Ginny sensed that he cared for her too. Like the time she had come back home late from work and tumbled into bed exhausted, to be woken up a few minutes later by Draco who was slipping into bed, next to her, having portkey-ed all the way from the Malfoy Manor, not to make love since she was too bone weary to do so, but just 'to keep you company'. He did just that, lying down beside her, reciting his favorite poems out loud, his voice rumbling through his chest as she rested her head against it, sending her into a dreamless slumber.

Now that she had taken down the anti-portkey barrier, he could come and go as he pleased. They spent most nights at her place but some weekends were spent at the Malfoy Manor, a wonderful place to spend long, idyllic afternoons, exploring the house, getting lost in underground passages and tunnels, finding a dark alcove to snog each other silly, devoid of the disapproving glares from the Malfoy ancestors in their portraits.

All this - her feelings for Draco, what she had going on with him – did not change her attitude towards her job or the Malfoy investigations.

Sometimes she even amazed herself. It was as if there were two different facets to her persona – one was the Auror working relentlessly to capture Malfoy, the other was the woman who could barely breathe or speak when Draco put his arms around her.

She still loved her job; she still went for the Wizengmot hearing regarding their appeal against the Minister of Magic, which was turned down because no one was willing to implicate the Minister or the MOM office. Even then, she and Tonks tried to push for twenty-four hours surveillance on Malfoy's vault with the unrelenting Goblins.

But after a while, the Malfoy Investigations were beginning to lose steam. Dave and Artie were already paying more attention to other cases Kingsley had assigned them. Kingsley himself was having a tough time fishing out Malfoy's inside sources at the Ministry of Magic. Not everyone seemed willing to undergo an interview with the Head of the Auror Office, especially when they were told not to mention it to anyone else since Kingsley had not gotten authorization for it.

There were slight differences though - She did not spend all night working as she used to. But her colleagues saw it as a response to the hunt on Malfoy drying up, rather than because she was engaged in a torrid affair with Britain's most wanted Deatheater. Not that anyone of them would ever have guessed.

Not even Hermione who apparated to her flat once when Ginny accidentally left her apparition wards down – she had become terribly slack when it came to security around her home of late. Ginny had been in the shower with Draco, and it was Draco who had heard someone's voice, even though it had been muffled by the shower curtains and the water beating down on them. That was the first time Ginny had seen him do wandless magic. He had summoned his robes and his wand, grabbed his portkey and disappeared.

Ginny had got out of the shower to find Hermione waiting for her in the kitchen, wanting to know if she was going to come for dinner at The Burrow tonight, something Ginny had been avoiding lately.

Somehow, going home, seeing her parents, having dinner with her family would highlight the inherent differences between herself and Draco – from their beliefs to their lifestyles to their social backgrounds to their family upbringing. It would only force her to face the bleak reality that what she had with Draco could not possibly last.


Ginny apparated into her flat late one dusky April evening, slipped off her cloak, discarded it onto the couch, exhausted from another day of stakeouts, raids and filling in reports – nothing pertaining to the Malfoy invesitgations which seemed to have come to a stand still despite Ginny persistently reminding her team members to try and come up with innovative ways to nab Malfoy.

It was then she noticed that the room was lit only by candles floating in the air; candles that seemed to form a path from the door down the hallway, through the living room to the bedroom. With a smile on her lips and excitement dancing like fairies in her stomach, she read the note pinned on the pillow Draco preferred to use when he spend the night with her.

Ginevra,

It's been exactly a month since we've been together. I thought it would be a good reason for us to celebrate. I got you something. It's beneath the pillow. Put it on and come on up to the roof terrace.

Draco

Ginny slid the pillow aside only to discover a huge slim box. The box contained cream dress robes made of the softest silk she had ever felt. She slipped it on, as well as a pair of pearl earrings she had inherited from her maternal grandmother before heading up the stairs to the rooftop.

There was a table set for two in the middle of the open-air terrace. Candles floated above it, lending the entire place a soft, cozy glow. Draco was seated at the table and he rose from his seat when he saw her, moving towards her. As he leaned down to kiss her, she noticed the sobriety in his eyes, the tension in the set of his jaw but when he drew away from her after the kiss, he seemed like his usual self – impassive and composed.

"You're beautiful." He ran his eyes over her appraisingly.

Ginny brushed his comment aside with a careless wave of her hand. "It's the dress."

She expected him to smirk and agree with her but he shook his head, disagreeably, "No, it's you."

Ginny blushed.

"So what's for dinner? I'm starving." She moved towards the table, to check out the dishes laid out on the table.

Draco popped open the wine bottle, pouring a glass out for her and for himself, "Whatever you like. I've charmed the dishes. Just say out loud what you want and it'll appear."

Ginny took a seat and did just that, without even bothering to wait for Draco who seemed to find her impatience and great appetite largely amusing.

Ginny blamed it on growing up with six brothers who had larger than life appetites.

As Draco took his seat and began to eat and they engaged in lighthearted conversational banter, Draco abruptly, asked her, " This is something I've been curious about – why did you take on the hunt for me, even when everyone thought I was dead?"

Ginny bit her lip, as she thought about his question. "Moody kinda planted it in my head and you know how I like to take on challenging tasks that nobody else is willing to take on. The more impossible the end seems, the more I want to get there – that's what compelled me to keep looking for you all these years."

"But it never crossed your mind that I might actually be dead?"

"Not once. No body was found and that was more than enough reason to doubt your 'death'." Ginny stated resolutely.

Draco shot her a smirk, "Well, I suppose, I must thank you for believing in my survival."

He rose from his seat, then, and held his hand out to Ginny, who took it apprehensively, with a tentative smile.

With a wave of his hand, soft, mellow music filled the night air. She was still not used to his ability to use wandless magic. She found it intimidating in a way. He had assured her that he could only use it for very basic spells. He said he had acquired this particular skill after The War, while living in the Malfoy Manor, after a great deal of research on wandless magic and countless hours of practice.

Is this a lasting treasure
or just a moment's pleasure?
Can I believe the magic of your sighs?
Will you still love me tomorrow?

"Dance with me." He said, rather than asked, as he wound his arms around her hips, pulling her towards him.

She willingly relented, coiling her arms around his neck, resting her head on his chest, her eyes half-shut and listening the sound of his heart beating, as well as to the words of the song washing over them.

Tonight, with words unspoken,
You say that I'm the only one
But will my heart be broken
When the night
Meets the morning sun?

She felt him inhale the scent of her hair, and then his lips pressed against the top of her head. She wondered if maybe it was not so impossible for this to last, maybe not forever, but at least for a considerable amount of time.

I'd like to know that your love
Is a love I can be sure of
So, tell me now and I won't ask again
Will you still love me tomorrow?

The song reached its last note and they stayed in each other's arms, still moving, as if guided by the music in their heads. Then, suddenly, without any warning, the skies opened up and rain cascaded down on them in the typical fashion of a Spring shower, without forewarning but able to drench a person in seconds. By the time they ran back down into her flat, they were drenched through and through. Her hair was stuck to her face; her robes were soaked through and clung tightly to her body.

"I planned every single detail. I wanted it to go perfectly." Draco grumbled as he slipped off his wet robes. He had used his wand to get rid of the table, chairs and food as they were fleeing the rain.

Ginny smiled, amused by his display of displeasure at such a trivial issue, confirming her views regarding his controlling nature. She pressed herself up against him, looking into his gray eyes, "Sometimes, some things cannot be controlled, they just happen." She said, cupping his face with her slender hands.

"They just do, don't they?" He murmured, and for the first time, in all those days, hours, minutes, she had spent with him, she got a glimpse of the ravaged, anguished man beneath the unaffected façade. The sadness was in his eyes, nowhere else.

It was gone as quickly as it was there but Ginny was sure of what she had seen and when she kissed him, she kissed him with everything she felt, hoping to make him forget all that was causing him such sorrow.


When Ginny apparated from her flat the next day morning, Draco was still in her bed, looking as if he was sleeping the deep slumber of angels. She had no heart to wake him before she left for work as she usually did, so she had simply left a note on her pillow telling him that she was off to work and would see him when she got back tonight.

She was walking towards her cubicle while browsing through the Daily Prophet simultaneously when Kinglsey waylaid her, asking her to follow him into his office.

He asked her to close the door behind her, something he had never done before, causing a pinprick of alarm in her chest.

Could Kingsley have found out about the portkey she had withheld, or worse, her relationship with Draco? Had her two worlds finally collided? Would she be forced to choose between being with Draco and keeping her job?

She thought of waking up in the morning with Draco beside her, Draco who was the epitome of almost everything she had ever dreamt of in a man and she knew what her choice would be.

As she sat down, on the chair, across from Kingsley, she realized that he looked terribly worn out, almost as if he aged in the last few hours.

He looked down at a file on the desk in front of him, before looking up at her, fixing her with a scrutinizing look.

Then without a word, he pushed the file across the table towards her. A great sense of foreboding flooded her every pore till her hands felt gelatinous and she could no longer feel her fingers as she opened the file. It looked and felt very much like someone else's hands lifting the photos in the file and looking through them one by one.

What should have been air in her lungs was panic, what should have been blood in her veins was ice, what should have been saliva in her mouth was the cold acrid taste of betrayal.

There were thirty photos in all of herself and Draco Malfoy, all in her flat, taken over the span of the entire month they were together; pictures of them together in her kitchen, her living room, her rooftop terrace, him sleeping in her bed. Later on, she would be thankful for the lack of photos of them in any compromising position.

A part of her knew, instantly, even though she could scarcely believe so, that it was the work of Draco. Only he had the access to her house that would enable him to do this. Only he had something to gain out of exposing their affair.

He must have placed cameras all over her flat, using the concealing charm to hide them and activating them whenever he wanted. Or he could have gotten someone else to come into her flat, under an invisibility cloak or disillusionment charm, and take the photos. She could not be sure how he did it. Suddenly, she realized she did not know Draco at all.

The whole thing was surreal. She was sure, no, she was hoping that she was having a really bad nightmare and would wake up soon, to her life the way it was.

But then she looked up at Kingsley who was watching her and knew this was no dream.

He finally spoke up, his tone curt and stern, "I analyzed the photos myself. They're genuine copies, not doctored."

Ginny nodded. She knew they were real, she remembered doing those things in the photos – cooking with Draco, eating with him, snuggled up on the couch with him, sharing a drink late one night etc.

"I think you owe me an explanation." Kingsley stated.

Ginny snagged her lips with her teeth as she tried to think rationally. There was no other way out of this mess other than coming clean. Besides, the unbearable pain of it all was getting to her and she wanted to let it all out before it swallowed her whole.

She told him everything – from receiving the rose and the note, to why she withheld it, to how she had used it to go and see him, to Draco's dinner invitation, then she attempting to avoid him but to no avail and their entire affair that lasted for a month

"Why?" Kingsley asked, bitterly. The disappointment in his voice and in the contorting of his usually friendly face was blatant. It was then Ginny began to cry, hot stinging tears welling up in her eyes, as all that happened finally sank in.

"I don't know." She murmured, her voice thick with tears, "I tried to tell you to take me off the case."

Kingsley shook his head, rising from his seat, pacing the office, "I didn't know you were that emotionally vested."

"He kept pursuing me! He said he wanted me! He just would not take 'no' for an answer!" Ginny cried out, indignantly, white hot anger bubbling up within her against Malfoy and what he had done to her. She felt as if she had been brutally pillaged. It was as if something that had been precious to her was now twisted into some sort of evil perversion.

Kingsley ran his hand over his bald head, then frustrated, slammed his fist on his table, frightening Ginny who had never seen him so livid before.

"Do you have any idea what you've gotten yourself into! This will cost you your job, your reputation! I might have to launch an investigation against you! You've compromised the Malfoy investigations! You've withheld crucial evidence! You've obtained information that could have been used to help the case but is now considered inadmissible because of your involvement with him!" He ranted at her, obviously on a roll.

"And because of all this, the Malfoy case will have to be closed and once the case is closed, it can never be opened again and according to Wizarding Laws, it means that he can never be charged for all those crimes he committed in the War that is listed in the case! He's a free man! Which is exactly what he wanted! Which is why he did all this!" He roared, and gesticulated at the photos that were scattered on the desk in front of her.

Ginny, cowered in her seat, her head bend down as a submission of guilt and defeat, tears falling fast into her lap. She wished she could stop crying. She wished she were not so weak. She wished she had not fallen for Malfoy's ploy, believed all his sweet words and given into his smoldering looks and gentle caresses.

The door burst open then, as Tonks stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

She looked at Ginny slumped in the chair, her face blotchy and red from crying and then at Kingsley who was pacing behind his desk, outraged and at the end of his wits. Kingsley had come to her the moment he had discovered the file but had insisted on handling Ginny by himself.

"Calm down a minute, Kingsley, and listen to me. How did you obtain that file?" She asked him, lightly.

She shot Ginny a look of reassurance mingled with embarrassed pity. Tonks was not one to judge people. She believed that all humans were inherently prone to making mistakes and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

"I found it on my desk when I came in this morning." He replied, his anger dissipating slightly.

"Do you know who might have put it on your desk?" She asked.

"No. I don't have a clue."

A triumphant glint in her eye, "Then it's considered inadmissible evidence - meaning that we wouldn't have to stop the Malfoy investigations." She concluded.

Ginny felt slightly relieved, "I'll take myself off the case, immediately. Just let it proceed. I promise you, I never gave any information to Malfoy – nothing that he did not already know." She said, earnestly, desperately.

"Why should I believe you?" Kingsley scowled down at her.

Tonks made a disapproving noise in her throat.

Ginny fought back her tears, her chest incredibly tight, "I would never betray our cause. It was my heart that betrayed me, that's all."

"I should fire your arse." Kingsley told her, gruffly.

"I'll resign if you want me to." Ginny offered, her heart breaking as the words left her mouth. Her career, her life, all gone.

"I think it would be best if you did." Tonks said, gently.

She was being pragmatic and Ginny knew it. It was best to keep this quiet and for her to resign and lie low. If she stayed, the threat of being investigated and implicated would hang over her like a thundercloud, for the rest of her career as an Auror. There was so much Tonks and Kingsley could cover up for her.

"It's still too risky to continue the case," Kingsley was saying to Tonks, "If the MOM finds out about this, which they most probably will since Malfoy's not stupid and he has connections higher-up, they'll stop the investigations immediately. Either way we're going to get nailed. At least if we close the case now, and keep this whole thing quiet, Malfoy won't bother alerting his sources in the MOM office about the security breach here."

"What makes you so sure he hasn't?" Tonks asked.

"They haven't bombarded my office yet, have they?" Kingsley shot back, his nerves completely frayed.

"That bastard's got us between a rock and hard place, hasn't he?" Tonks muttered, darkly, referring to Malfoy.

Kingsley nodded wearily, sinking into his seat.

Ginny sat there, feeling the guilt wearing down on her like a block of granite.

She wanted to go back home and tear apart every piece of furniture Malfoy had come into contact with. She wanted to scream till the tightness in her chest, the constriction in her throat went away. Most of all, she wanted to put her head on her mother's lap and cry herself to sleep, the way she used to when she was a young girl and had just woken up from a terrible nightmare.


The Malfoy case was closed that day. Only Tonks and Kingsley knew the real reason behind it. Everyone else pegged it to the Auror in charge of the case, Ginny Weasley's resignation, as well as the lack of progress of the investigations itself. The reason Ginny gave for her resignation was a much-needed change in career choice. Only Tonks and Kingsley knew the real reason and they planned to take it to their graves.

When Ginny went back to her flat later that day, Tonks accompanied her - just in case Malfoy happened to be there waiting for her, as unlikely as Ginny knew it was. Draco would not return ever again, now that he had completed his plan and took all that was for the taking.

Tonks did a thorough sweep of her flat and uncovered the cameras – one in each room, floating in the corner of the ceiling. But that did not send Ginny to complete pieces. It was always the small trivial things, like the note she had left for him that morning with all the little hearts and flowers she had drawn all over it.

When Ginny saw it still stuck to the pillow untouched, the fragile crust of her muddled restrain cracked and then broke entirely as she sank to her knees and let out a cry that erupted from the pit of her gut, a cry that was filled with such primal, fresh and raw agony, that Tonks had to step outside of the flat with tears in her eyes for the apparent rupture in Ginny's heart, the brokenness in her spirit.

TBC