Ginny stared absently out of the car window, one arm nestled comfortably on the center console, the other laid over her stomach, unconsciously protecting her unborn child from all of the harm that she feared was coming. He continued to drive, glancing sideways at her now and again. She was uncharacteristically quiet - she had been for some time - and he found himself looking her way quite often just to make sure that she was still alive.

It had been weeks now since Draco had returned home. Jill and Jeremy were both happy to see their father, but it hadn't been quite the reception that he had been hoping for. Jill barely spoke to anyone anymore aside from her brother, and his son had hugged him briefly before coldly finding his way to his mother's side. There was a clear divide, and as bad as Draco felt about what he had done, he knew in his heart that if he'd had the chance to try again, he'd do the exact same thing. For once in his life, Draco Malfoy had had intentions that were completely pure, even if a bit misguided.

They had long since left Missouri behind. Ginny's work at the hotel - even if she was barely making above minimum wage - had provided her with a small savings that now allowed them to relax a bit and finish their journey. Even though they had found the twins along the way, Draco now knew that there were more people to find, and Fred and George had gone off on their separate way to help. If they were going to save themselves, they needed to find everyone else who had fallen along with them to band together if they were ever going to get back home.

Ginny turned her head to the back seat of the car to look at the children. Both were sleeping. It was nearly six o'clock in the morning, and the sunrise was barely on the horizon. The days were bleeding into one another, and she felt as though she hadn't slept since they first left home, and certainly any sleep that she had gotten in that time had been restless.

"What's it mean to be pureblooded?" she asked.

Draco nearly flinched at the question. He had not introduced her to that word, and so he knew that she must had dreamt it somehow. He could only imagine in what context.

As if reading his mind, she added, "You told me that… that my baby wasn't a pureblood."

He remembered that night - the night that Harry Potter had been killed and Ginny had let on for the first time that she was pregnant with his child. It was the first time in his life that he could remember caring about her, the moment he realized how precious any human life was. He could recall Ginny's broken face and body and how he could feel in his heart that she was only staying strong so that her child could live. That was the moment that he saw what a mother's love really meant.

What he wasn't aware of was that Ginny had also had this dream.

Carefully, he answered her question. "In the… world we come from. People can be witches and wizards, of course. And if they come from a long line of only witches and wizards, they are considered pure." He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice neutral. Malfoys, after all, had very strong feelings about blood purity. "Muggles - or people who have no magical blood whatsoever - will sometimes have children with witches or wizards. Those children are half-bloods."

"And… and my son's father…"

"He wa… I mean, half-blooded."

"But you and I?"

"We're both pure-blooded."

"So, Jill and Jeremy and our other baby will be as well?"

"That's right."

She was quiet again. Desperately, Draco wanted to ask her what she knew about her son's father. He wanted to know if she knew his name or if she knew that he had died because his blood wasn't completely pure - died fighting the good fight - or if she knew that having pure blood was the reason that they were both still alive. But he couldn't ask that. He couldn't reveal anything to her, and he didn't want to, because it would only lead to more questions - and they were becoming dangerously close to questions that had answers that would only frighten her.

When he looked at her again, he noticed that she had fallen asleep. It was then that he realized that she knew nothing more about Harry or her son.

Because if she had, there was no way she would have been able to sleep.

They had just entered the state of Texas when the children began complaining of hunger and Ginny had become restless and just a bit carsick.

There was a tiny roadhouse on a side street that looked family friendly enough, so Draco pulled into the lot. He walked around the car and opened the door for his wife, helping her out of the car. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his children looking on at him. His son had the smallest smile on the corner of his lips, and his daughter's eyes were wide with wonder. It occurred to Draco then that this was probably the first sign of affection towards their mother that they had witnessed since he had come back to them. He felt a pang of guilt resonate within his chest. His hand found hers. He gracefully interlocked their fingers and led her to the restaurant, the children following in tow.

Their meal had been ordered, prepared, and brought out to them quickly. Jill and Jeremy were actively engaged in a conversation with their mother about television shows that Draco had never heard of, but he didn't mind. It was just nice to feel like a normal family again, even if his wife and children had a hard time engaging with him.

As if she could hear his thoughts, Ginny's eyes locked with his, and she smiled mischievously. "You don't remember what day it is, do you?" she asked.

He thought about it. Truthfully, he wasn't entirely sure what month it was, let alone what day. By the looks of things around the restaurant they were in, it was approaching Thanksgiving - a holiday that meant very little to him now that he had his memories back. But Thanksgiving meant November, and November meant…

"Our anniversary," he answered, the corner of his lips turning up into a smile. "Twelve years we've been married now."

"That's right," she quipped. "It snuck up on me, too."

"We'll have to celebrate it, won't we?" Draco asked, somewhat suggestively.

Ginny flushed and looked away. "I'm not sure how we'll be able to pull that off…"

His smile faded just slightly as he looked around the restaurant. He certainly wasn't going to just forget about it. Even if they wouldn't be able to celebrate the night in the way he was initially thinking, there had to be some way to make it special.

He got to his feet and offered his hand to his wife. "Dance with me."

It wasn't ideal music - they were, after all, eating at a country roadhouse - but it didn't matter. She tentatively placed her hand in his, and he gave her a playful tug to pull her onto her feet. He winked at his daughter, whose eyes were wide with interest, and wrapped an arm around Ginny's slim waist as he guided her towards the band playing in front.

There were only a few other couples on the floor dancing, but Draco centered his focus solely on her. His aristocratic upbringing had required he'd take lessons in ballroom dancing from a very young age, and his lean, graceful body made him perfect for it. Ginny, he knew, had never had a single lesson in her life, but she had naturally good rhythm and a lithe form from years of playing Quidditch that allowed her to keep up with him rather easily. He had noticed over the years that she was good at almost anything that she tried.

"Drew never knew how to dance like this," she commented. "It's nice."

"So maybe there are some benefits to having Draco Malfoy around?" he quipped.

"Eh," she answered, feigning nonchalance. "I don't know that I'd go that far…"

He rolled his eyes at her playfully, but his expression sobered quickly. He glanced back at the children to make sure they were safe, only to find that they were no longer in their seats. Rather, they had both approached their parents and had begun dancing together to emulate.

Ginny smiled at her kids and rested her cheek against her husband's. "I know it won't last for long, but right now I feel so normal."

"Ginny, please…"

"Don't," she whispered. "Don't say something that's going to ruin the moment."

He swallowed. The lump in his throat felt like sandpaper. "All right."

She closed her eyes, her long lashes inadvertently tickling his cheek. "Do you remember the day we met?"

"Vividly," he answered without hesitation. "In the bookstore. You threatened me if I wouldn't leave Harry alone."

And her movement halted suddenly. "Who… who is Harry?"

His cheeks began to warm considerably as he realized what he had said. He had answered her question without thinking. "Oh. Oh, I'm so…"

"Who is Harry?"

He was surprised to observe that she wasn't showing much of an expression at all. Her eyes were wide with curiosity, but her body remained relaxed and her posture stayed perfectly even. His pulse began to quicken as he thought about how he might respond, but there was no way around giving her something.

"He was someone we both knew."

"Well, I must've cared about him if I was willing to threaten you over him, didn't I?"

Draco nodded. Several possible rationales popped into his head - ways to explain away Harry Potter's existence so that he didn't have to get into explaining exactly what the man had meant to her - but he decided to dismiss the idea. This was not the time or place for this conversation.

"Ginny, you asked me not to ruin the moment."

Her eyes widened with something akin to understanding. Maybe she was able to put together the pieces and realize that the man she was so casually asking about was, in fact, the love of her life who had practically died in her arms. Or perhaps she was able to let it go in order to preserve this dance with him. It didn't matter either way. .

The tension in the air cleared, almost as though the conversation had never happened. Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her so that they could continue dancing. Her fingertips laced themselves with the delicate strands of his hair as she rose up slightly on the tips of her toes. She pressed her lips to his ever so gently - chastely.

"Thank you for the dance," she whispered against his lips. "I love you."

She had left him standing in the middle of the floor, and before he could respond, she had already asked to cut in to the children's dance.

Her body was so tense that he could tell she was not sleeping. His arms circled her body, and he wasn't sure if being so close to him was the reason why she was so uncomfortable. His long fingers trailed their way through her long, red hair, and he could feel her relaxing against him ever so slightly. His other hand rested against her pregnant belly.

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Have you seen him?"

She didn't need to specify who she meant. He knew, of course, without question, the only person who was on her mind at that moment.

"No, I didn't see him."

Ginny turned around in his embrace, her chest pressing up against his, her head finding a comfortable place in the crook of his neck. A few faint worry lines had formed around her eyes, and he had to fight back the urge to trace them with his fingertips.

"But he's in good hands," he added. "He's safe."

The way that she was touching him was mildly disconcerting. Even though they were still married, she had shown such little affection towards him aside from the dance that they had shared and the kiss she had given him at the end of it. And now this was twice in the same day the she had allowed her body to touch his. Perhaps the hormones raging through her pregnant body were changing her way of thinking. He dared to hope that she may have even been trying to find a way to forgive him for everything that he had done that had hurt her.

Hew glistening eyes looked fearlessly into his. "Is Harry his father?"

He couldn't bear to look at her. But even more than that, he couldn't stand lying.

"Yes."

Ginny's eyes fluttered closed and she snuggled more closely against him, much to his surprise. And before he could say another word, she had already fallen fast asleep.