New A/N: Behold the tremendously refurbished Chap. 4! I can't tell you what a relief it is to post yet another vastly improved chapter. More to come in the future. I apologize if the site does anything to screw up formatting (like gluing two words together or even, god forbid, two paragraphs). I still haven't figured out why this happens or how to avoid it. Anyway, here's hoping you'll enjoy as much as I do!

Disclaimer: I solemnly swear I am up to no good – er, I mean, we own nothing. Yeah…

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There was a long pause as Draco stared down his young counterpart.

"Um." Tristan, who was still leaning into her father, cleared her throat. "I – I'm thinking we've got more important things to argue about than Aunt Gin at the moment."

"I'm inclined to agree." Mrs. Malfoy smiled at her."Boys – break it up."

Her husband dropped Draco's chin. "You'll keep a civil tongue in your head, boy, or I'll hex it into knots."

Nearby, Dorian prodded Hayden in the ribs. Draco's son winked, folding his arms and watching with evident enjoyment.

Draco blinked. When he wasoffered a hand up,he gave the room at large an almighty glower, got up on his own, and threw himself into a seat beside Ginny

"So – Severus," Unspeakable Draco said, looking faintly amused at this display and turning to his former mentor. "What're we going to do with them?"

¨I was just telling Potter," the headmaster said with narrowed eyes, "that he and his friends – " Draco and Blaise both made loud noises of protest, which he ignored – "will return immediately to their proper time. Potter, as usual, has other ideas."

"What else is new?" Draco muttered from his chair.

"Why not hear him out, then?" Ron demanded from where he stood beside Mrs. Malfoy and his tall son.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Mr. Weasley, as I´m sure you and your department are already aware, these children," he drew the word out with a curled lip, "have broken half the Ministry of Magic's time traveling laws by doing what they've done. I think, under the circumstances, I'm being quite lenient."

"Oh, come off it." Unspeakable Harry rolled his eyes. "You know how I was back then. The Potter Justice and Rightiousness Brigade."

"Oy!" Harry was on his feet while Snape nodded. "Have a little respect! You're talking about yourself."

"The similarity's remarkable," Draco mumbled.

"Zip it," Unspeakable Draco said coldly. "I don't care who you are, you're really starting to brass me off."

"Blow it out your – "

"Hey!" Blaise snapped. She had been lounging in a chair beside Draco, but was now sitting up straight, glaring around at them all. "Potter's kid has a point. We've got more to worry about right now! Like why we haven't gotten the hell out of here."

"We can't,¨ Harry insisted. "What about them?" He indicated Hayden and Tristan, who stood with their parents.

"We've warned them, haven't we?" the Slytherin retorted. "Job well done! I want this nightmare over with."

"Wait a minute." Mrs. Malfoy leaned forward, her brow furrowed. "Severus mentioned that you lot had a run-in with some guy in a red cloak before you left."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah, he would have killed us if Harry hadn't wrapped the Time-Turner around our wrists." She sent a disgusted glare in Draco's direction. "Fat lot of good you were there, Malfoy, so keep your mouth shut."

"I would do something stupid like that," Unspeakable Harry muttered. "So what, Gin?" he asked, turning his brooding gaze upon Mrs. Malfoy.

"I think they need to stay here until we can make sure they're safe to go back."

"While your benevolence is quite – touching, Mrs. Malfoy – " Ginny and Draco winced. The adults saw, smirked, and batted their eyelashes at each other. Snape scowled. "I don't think they'll be any safer here than back with Dumbledore in their time."

"Gin's got a point. Suppose they're intercepted or something before they can get to Dumbledore?" Unspeakable Harry put in, his arm still around his daughter. "It's a bloody old trick. A temporal sniper – I'm assuming that's who this guy is – waits around a bit to catch his prey at the point they left. Assuming they can be returned to their exact time of departure, this bloke could take them before they had a chance to react."

"And they can't go back later," Ron nodded. "It wouldn't do them any good, because for them it would mean existing in the possible future, not their existing present –"

"I think I speak for everyone else when I say what the hell?" Blaise rolled her eyes. "Some of us aren't Unspeakables who've studied intensive temporal theory."

"Obviously not." Tristan's father fixed his eyes on Blaise for the first time. "Anyway, I expect you'll find that some of us thought too highly of ourselves to take temporal theory."

"Harry." Unspeakable Draco lifted a warning eyebrow and Ron placed a hand on his tall friend's shoulder. "Look, Blaise, it's really quite simple. Each of you exists in exactly one present. If we return you to any time after that you would still be removed from time. Sending you back anytime before that would mean that there would be two copies of you running around and you'd have to avoid yourselves for however long it would take your past selves and the selves who were sent into the past to merge."

Blaise raised a skeptical brow. Draco gave her a smile.

"All right, so it isn't simple," he admitted. "Harry's right, though. You were never too keen on temporal theory." His expression grew serious. "Anyway, like I said, Gin's right, Severus. They can't go back. Not yet. We need all this sorted first."

"They can come with us," Dorian broke in hesitantly. "We're all going home. And they couldn't be safer than with this lot."

"And you're always complaining about all your siblings." Tristan smiled wanly at him, though her eyes were trained on her father's face.

"You know Ian." Hayden gave his friend a smirk. "His work isn't complete until everyone in the room is begging him to shut up."

Dorian scowled at his friends.

"By the way, where're we staying?" Tristan asked, her lip twitching against a smile.

"I think your house, Tristy – don't you agree, Den?" Dorian waggled his eyebrows at them.

"I think not," Tristan retorted. "Your devout interest in secluded staircase notwithstanding, I don't trust you anywhere near my bedchamber."

Her godfather, Ron, and Mrs. Malfoy snorted. Dorian wasn't fazed.

"You didn't mind at the time." Ron's eyebrows shot up.

"What're you two on about?" Tristan's father demanded, rounding on Dorian, who fled for protection behind Ron. Ron looked mightily amused, but apparently thinking that his son might be in some danger, he raised his hands and began placating his best friend. Meanwhile, Hayden was making extremely graphic gestures at Tristan, who was doing a fine impression of ignoring him and smiling crookedly at her head of house, whose head was in his hands as he muttered obscenities under his breath.

"Merlin!" Mrs. Malfoy threw her arms up in the air. She saw Ginny watching and smiled.

The sixth-year couldn't help smiling in return.

"Does this often happen?"

Draco's wife nodded. "Tristan is Harry's only daughter," she explained quietly as the argument continued in the background. "And ever since – well, I imagine you've gathered that his marriage didn't work out." Ginny nodded. "Harry is Tristy's guardian and he's terrified of losing her. Trouble seems to sniff her out – big surprise, look at her parents! – and Harry gets more tightly wound every time." She glanced at the Unspeakable and his troublesome offspring. "You can imagine how it goes. Harry goes ballistic, Tristan's punishments get more severe, she gets angry and breaks more rules." She rubbed her eyes. "Sometimes I get there in time and advocate, but a lot of the time, the damage has been done."

"Overprotective, is he?" Ginny eyed the grim expression on Mrs. Malfoy's face. "Color me shocked and astonished."

"That's putting it mildly," the older woman sighed, her eyes on Tristan's father, who just then resembled a thundercloud to Dorian's man-without-an-umbrella. "Anyway, Harry's been through hell. Seeing him," she indicated the seventh-year, who was shaking his head bemusedly, "young and cheerful again is – well, it's heartbreaking, really." She paused for a moment, as though her mind was on another time, before she gave her elegant head a soft shake. "This Harry is the father Tristy should have."

"I imagine seeing any of us is a bit surprising," the sixth-year said tentatively.

Mrs. Malfoy's smile returned as a curl at the corner of her mouth. "Shocking, more like," she corrected as her eyes fell on her husband, who was chastising Dorian about Tristan ("subtlety, boy, how many times must we go through this…?"). "I'd forgotten what a stupendous prat Draco used to be."

"Er – has he changed?" Ginny glanced at her Draco. "Forgive me, I can't imagine."

Mrs. Malfoy's eyes met her husband's. He blew her a kiss and she sighed. Then she frowned. "Actually, changed might be the wrong word. I'd say I've adjusted to him and accepted that he must be a prat in order to be the Draco Malfoy I love. Anyway, you'll love him."

"Can't imagine," Ginny repeated. Draco was watching the commotion around him with wrapped attention and a sneer that made Ginny want to throw A History of Magic at his head.

"You'll come round," he assured her, his eyes never leaving the quarrel. "I told you, you can't resist me."

"I'll kill you, you disgusting little weasel!" Ginny snarled, while Mrs. Malfoy smiled indulgently.

"I thought that was my line."

"Argh!"

PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPD

They did manage sort everything out after more talk and still more squabbling. It was decided – much to Snape's displeasure – that the time travellers would stay put for the time being. As Ron had pointed out, there was no way anyone could see of returning them to their own time without getting them killed in the process. It was also settled on that they would all stay at the Malfoys' home in the country. It was larger than the Potter estate and had fewer visitors, as it was Unplottable.

On the whole, Ginny thought, she should have been relieved. After all, they had escaped a sniper and Snape in the same day – well, sort of the same day – anyway, she should have been feeling better than she was.

It was just the thought of marrying Draco sodding Malfoy, a fact she was reminded of frequently as Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy weren't often apart, and their son - her son – seemed to be doing everything in his power to make things easier on her.

They left Hogwarts that day, traveling in a large stagecoach that fit all eleven of them quite comfortably. Ginny stared out the window as the familiar landscape of Hogwarts disappeared around a bend in the road.

"What's up, Gin?" Harry asked quietly from beside her. He was leaning forward to look around her out the window, his chin in his hand. To Ginny, he looked tired.

"What, besides this mess?"

"I'm really sorry about all this," Harry repeated for the umpteenth time, scrubbing his face with his hand.

"It wasn't your fault!" Ginny insisted, turning to face him and patting his arm in a way that she hoped he found encouraging. "If I hadn't been following you, you'd have made it out before red robes showed up."

"You were worried about me," Harry said, though she saw his shoulders relax a bit. "It's not your fault, either." His face brightened. "Guess that means we can safely blame Malfoy."

"What now, Potter?" the seventh year drawled.

"He said go shut your nose in a door," Ginny snapped, turning back to the window.

"A bit touchy, you were, Aunt Gin?" Dorian said good-naturedly to the older redhead.

"I often had good reason to be," Mrs. Malfoy told him, nudging her husband. "He was an arse."

"How true." Unspeakable Harry, sitting across from the Malfoys, smirked.

Draco glared at them all, but clearly being the butt of everyone else's joke was something he wasn't quite able to cope with yet, so he maintained a stony silence.

"I wish you'd all give it a rest," Blaise muttered from the opposite window.

"It's nice to want things, isn't it?" Tristan's father bit out. Ginny's eyes widened. Mrs. Malfoy leaned across the carriage and rested a hand his arm.

"That's not your Blaise, Harry," she said firmly. "Let her be."

"Your Blaise?" Blaise repeated, scoffing. "What rot!"

Harry glowered down at his hands, but he didn't reply. His daughter glanced sideways at him, and then gave his hand a hesitant squeeze. He glanced down at her a moment, then draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side.

"Wow, I've changed," the seventeen-year-old Boy-Who-Lived mumbled to Ginny.

"And not for the better," Ginny agreed, an ache in her chest. "Maybe we can fix more than one problem while we're here. Wonder what happened between Zabini and you."

"Your guess is as good as mine." Harry shrugged, glancing at the brunette who in turn sat staring grimly out the window. "What could I have been thinking, marrying someone like her?"

"Who knows? Why in Merlin's name would I marry Malfoy?" Ginny sighed.

"You know how some people think that seeing the future might be fun? Bollocks!" Harry returned to staring out the window.

"Like I said, now that we know, maybe we can do something about it." Ginny didn't think she was convincing anyone, but she carried on anyway. "I just wish I knew more about time than I do now. I know that messing about in the past can have devastating effects on the present and future, but – "

"I don't think we should mess around any more than we already have," Harry murmured. "I've caused a ruddy cock up."

"It's all right, Potter, it's what you're best at."

"And would someone tell me why I would befriend someone like him?" Harry had deliberately turned away from Draco's sneer. "I knew better at eleven."

"I ask myself that daily," Unspeakable Harry put in, smirking at both Dracos. Tristan grinned at him.

"What can I say? I'm irresistible," Mr. Malfoy shot back, shaking his heavy blonde hair from his eyes.

"Just keep telling yourself that, Malfoy." Ron elbowed him.

"Go on," Draco insisted. "Ask your sister." He nodded at his wife, who gave him a look and a peck on the nose.

"Oy, get a bloody room!" Hayden winced, hiding his face in Dorian's shoulder.

"I second that." Ginny felt sick. Ron glanced at her and actually laughed.

"Why fight it, little Weasel?" Draco drawled. "Obviously, you can't win."

"Bugger off, Mal-ferret!" she snapped. She was distracted by Mrs. Malfoy's laughter.

"God, I haven't called you that in years!" she said, grinning at her husband.

"I was rather hoping you'd forgotten." He glared at the younger redhead. "It always annoyed the hell out of me."

"You must admit, it was apt during that part of our – er, relationship." Mrs. Malfoy gestured at Ginny and Draco, who sat with their arms folded, glowering out opposite windows.

"Relationship, right," both Dracos said.

The rest of the trip to the Malfoys' estate passed in much in much the same vein. As the trip wore on, Ginny became increasingly desperate at the idea of living with two Dracos and Blaise Zabini for an unknown period of time. It seemed that every time she turned her attention from the window, one of them was glaring or making some underhanded comment about red hair and freckles.

To take her mind off this, she began to contemplete Harry Potter. What could have happened to turn the bright-eyed, brave, funny young man sitting next to her into the cold, fearless, scowling man sitting across the carriage and chatting with Draco Malfoy? At one point she thought about asking, but then decided she didn't care to have that cynical eye directed at her.

By the time they reached the estate, though, night had fallen and Ginny had come up with a number of questions for Mrs. Malfoy, her husband, and Ron.

She was distracted in the beginning, however, by the ride through Red's Park, the Malfoy estate. Several kilometers of forest separated the mansion from the main wizarding road, and it was another ten from there to the nearest Muggle motorway.

"You can only reach the estate by road," Hayden explained after overhearing her mumble something about why hadn't they just used the floo. "No wizarding transport works inside the grounds except for us Malfoys."

"Does that include me?" Ginny asked, instantly regretting that she had.

"You married Dad; that makes you a Malfoy," Hayden nodded. He frowned. "Dunno if it would work for you, because you're not part of the family yet."

"Not to worry." Mrs. Malfoy patted Ginny's knee, obviously spotting her expression. "Ask my husband. I'm not exactly Malfoy material."

"You were always rather bad at sneering," Draco agreed, pressing a kiss to her neck.

The thing that bothered Ginny most persistently was that somehow, she had fallen for Draco. She couldn't imagine how it had happened, given that, at present, she couldn't stand to be within a mile of him. Yet, she was so much in love in the future. Could this really be her future?

She was still lost in unpleasant reveries when Harry gave her a gentle shake.

"We're here," he said, indicating the darkened window.

Ginny knew she looked like a deer in headlights but she swore she had never seen a more massive house in her life. It was a country estate that must have had more than fifty rooms. Though it was dark out by this time, the house was lit with a hundred tiny lights that illuminated vine ivy swarming the walls in well-kempt patterns. Though pillars stood out against the front of the house, support a third-floor balcony, she could just make out a small side veranda as they pulled up the drive. Against her will, she felt a smile spread over her face. It was her future dream house come true.

Literally.

"Um – you can come inside if you want," Hayden said, raising an eyebrow at her. She blushed as she realized that the others were already walking up the stone steps. She slid out of the carriage, avoiding Hayden's eyes, and hurried to catch up with Harry. Ahead of them, Draco and Blaise were muttering back and forth.

"Vine Ivy," Draco was mumbling furiously. "What was I bloody thinking?"

"You deserve it," Blaise sniffed. "You probably did it to please your wife."

"Would you cut that out?" Draco snapped. "Don't expect me to know what I was thinking when I got hitched to a Weasley!"

"You were probably pissed," Blaise retorted, pouting. Ginny glared at her back, both hands fisted. Harry, meanwhile, had made a funny noise in his throat, his eyes burning a hole in Blaise's neck.

"Why, Gin," he whispered to her, "would I ever – ever – with her?"

"Ask yourself." Ginny indicated the looming form of Unspeakable Harry settled firmly between Dorian, who was trying keep Tristan in view, and the girl herself, who was yawning and exchanging sour looks with Hayden.

"I'm actually kind of afraid to," Harry grinned sheepishly. "I look pretty menacing, don't I?"

Ginny stifled a laugh.

"Can't argue." To her great annoyance, she noticed a moment later that Draco was still mumbling obscenities about her under his breath.

"Do you mind, Malfoy?" she snapped. "I'm right behind you."

"Really?" Blaise returned before Draco could say anything. "We couldn't see anything except a red glow. Time to trim your beard, I think."

"Says the girl whose eyebrows might be mistaken for mutton chops," Ginny snapped.

"Ooh, got a bit of a temper there, Weasel." Draco's drawl grated against her ears.

"It's no wonder, having to deal with you all the time," Harry remarked coldly. Ginny felt a flash of jealousy at how Harry almost always managed to keep his temper around the git. Years of practice, undoubtedly.

"Smooth, Potter," Draco smirked. "Jealous that I got to shag her before you? Boo-hoo."

Out of nowhere, a hand had grabbed Draco around the collar.

"Let's have a little talk, hmm?" Unspeakable Draco tightened his grip on the seventh year. Gone languid tolerance he had shown since his arrival at Hogwarts. Now he looked dangerous; very much the elite Auror. Clearly, Hayden had been right about the consequences of insulting Mrs. Malfoy. Ginny couldn't quite suppress a smile, although she privately felt quite relieved that she wasn't the one on the receiving end of that temper.

At the top of the steps, both Dracos disappeared through a pair of double doors, while Mrs. Malfoy, with no apparent concern, led the rest up the steps.

"Bloody Draco," Ginny heard Blaise mutter ahead of him. "What kind of house is this?" She was eyeing the ivy and the welcome mat, which grinned up at them with what appeared to be a five-year-old Hayden´s beaming face.

"This, Miss Zabini," Mrs. Malfoy replied calmly, "was build by bloody Draco for his wife, because she wanted it this way." She smiled. ¨You will probably disgusted with the number of pictures of Hayden and his cousins you'll find in every room."

¨I enjoy this one the most,¨ Tristan put in, stomping her feet on the doormat until her father ushered her into the house.

"I think it's all lovely," Ginny murmured, looking around at the ivy, the dark stone, and noticing with great delight a little wire-worked table-and-chairs off to the left.

"You would," Harry pointed out, grinning.

In the entrance hall, it smelled of wood. Wood, apple cider, and cookies. It smelled rather like the Burrow, Ginny realized with a warm feeling in her stomach.

A gasp from one of the women caught Ginny's attention and she looked up quickly. A tall young man stood in a doorway that led into entrance hall. He was dressed in black. A dragon hide coat hung almost to the floor, where dragon hide boots were buckled up to his knees. He was tall and lean, and wrapped in a black shirt and leather trousers. His hair, though clearly naturally black, was highlighted with streaks of gold. His eyes were almost purple.

Ginny realized her mouth was hanging open and closed it quickly. She noticed that Blaise had gone very still.

"Easy, Zabini." Ginny couldn't resist. "He's young enough to be your son."

Blaise growled low in her throat, though her response was a surprise.

"I don't care how old he is; he's my kind of eye-candy, Weasley," she hissed back. "Don't tell me you're not impressed."

"Can't deny it." Ginny licked her lips. Her mouth felt a bit dry.

Meanwhile, Tristan had noticed the stranger as well.

"Ced!" she gasped. She gave a squeal and ran forward, throwing herself into his arms.

"Well, that's rain on our parade," Ginny muttered.

"I knew I hated that girl," Blaise whispered back, her eyes not leaving the boy.

"I thought you had one on for Malfoy."

"Get with the times, Weasley. Why can't I have both?"

Ginny wrinkled her nose.

"Ced, what the hell?" Tristan looked happier than Ginny could remember having seen her.

"Heard you had some company." The young man kissed her cheek and looked down at her with a crooked smile. "Came to see if you were all right."

"I'm fine!" Tristan beamed at him and gave him another hug. "How 'bout you – where've you been?"

"The usual," Ced said simply.

"Ced –" Tristan began, but Mrs. Malfoy was hurrying forward to greet him, and he gave Tristan a minute shake of his black head.

"Cedric!" Ginny smiled warmly at him as he stepped away from Tristan.

"Hey, Aunt Gin," he said, kissing the top of her head and giving her a tight hug.

"Well, that's a start." Ginny the younger threw a sideways smirk at Blaise. "He's not mine."

"If he's mine, I'll kill someone," Blaise muttered back.

"Keep your eyes in your head," Tristan's father advised coldly. "That one's yours, Zabini."

"What?" Harry and Blaise said simultaneously.

"I thought you – I – that is, we – only had one child," Harry said blankly.

"Wish away." Unspeakable Harry gave a mirthless laugh. "Meet Cedric Potter – the bane of your existence and, coincidentally, your twenty-two-year-old son."

"Cedric?" the seventh-year repeated woodenly.

"God, you're horrid!" Ginny blurted, before clamping a hand over her mouth and blushing bright red.

"I'm beginning to agree." Harry's expression as he looked at the Unspeakable was the one Ginny had often seen him direct at Draco.

"He's a reminder of things best forgotten." Tristan's father moved passed the group without a word. His cloak had barely whipped around the doorway when Cedric spoke.

"Wanker," he said, his striking eyes flat and emotionless.

"Never a truer word," Harry muttered beneath his breath. To Ginny, who knew him so well, he looked monumentally frustrated.

"Ced –" Tristan began again, her green eyes over-bright.

"Sorry, love." Cedric summoned up a tight smile from somewhere as he looked down at her. "I know it's hard."

"Doesn't have to be!" Tristan stomped her foot, oblivious to the other people in the room. Mrs. Malfoy rested a soothing hand on her shoulder and looked up at her nephew. He started to shake his head, then caught sight of Harry, Blaise, and Ginny still standing near the door.

"Well, well," he said, with a frown. "What have we here? The reason for Father's foul mood? Not that he normally needs one."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Mrs. Malfoy motioned Ginny, Harry, and Blaise into the room. "This is Cedric, Harry's – your – oh, damn." She sighed in mild exasperation. "Start again. Cedric, this is your father, your mother, and – er, me from twenty-three or so years in the past."

Cedric's eyes raked over Harry, then Ginny, who knew she was blushing, and finally Blaise, who was scowling flames at him. His eyes lingered on her, though not in the leering way Dorian's had earlier that day. There was something powerful in the look, a searching expression as he watched her through hooded eyes. Blaise crossed her arms defensively under his gaze.

"It's a really long story," Harry offered a bit lamely after a long, uncomfortable pause. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but wasn't quite sure what.

"I've got all night," Cedric returned. "Love to hear it."

"Not in the mood – sorry," Blaise snapped, turning her icy gaze on Mrs. Malfoy. "Mind showing me a place where I can crash?"

"Sure. And Ced," his aunt added, glancing sharply at him. "Just leave it for tonight, okay?"

He was silent, his eyes still fixed upon Blaise.

"I'll talk," Ginny heard herself blurt out. Everyone stared at her.

"It's up to you." Mrs. Malfoy shrugged. "When you two are finished, Ced, show her to the east room. Come on, you two." She motioned to Harry and Blaise, and they followed her up the long flight of stairs. Tristan and Hayden offered their goodnights and welcomes to Cedric before trailing after Mrs. Malfoy. They were arguing as their voices trailed away.

"Think we'll turn in as well," Ron told Cedric, indicating Dorian (who was gaping like a fish) and himself. "Take it easy with my sister, Ced."

Cedric smiled faintly. "Give me a little credit, would you? She's my aunt."

"Didn't stop Ian, did it?" Ron threw a glance as his imperturbable son, who was beginning to remind Ginny strongly of Fred in his late teens.

"Hell, we're not blood relatives and Tristy's one fine bird," Dorian drawled.

"Just remember that's my sister, boy." Cedric's voice was dark. He was definitely Blaise's son. "I'll shove your head up your arse if you try anything." Ron gave a very obvious cough that sounded like 'too late' and then dragged his son away before he could cause further damage.

"At least Ron's not changed too much," Ginny sighed.

"That's what Aunt Mione says every time we visit the Hollow," Cedric said.

"The what?"

Cedric gave a real laugh, though it sounded stiff.

"It's a running family joke, you see," he explained. "When Uncle Ron finally sucked it up and asked – or demanded, as Aunt Mione tells it – that they be married, Aunt Mione started spending a lot of time at the Burrow. I guess she was taking lessons from Gran or something, because her housekeeping spells were dreadful. Anyway – come on, we'll go to the den, it's more comfortable – anyway, one day Aunt Mione told Gran she wanted her house to be just as mad and wonderful as the Burrow. Then Gran told Uncle Ron and he, Uncle Draco, and Father built the Hollow. It's – well, it is hollow. It's a humongous hollowed out old tree in the middle of nowhere. With a few rooms added on once the family started growing." He grinned.

Ginny's eyes widen at Cedric's back as he led her through one room, then another, until she was thoroughly lost.

"Bloody brilliant," she muttered. "Who'd've thought my brother would come up with something like that?"

"What, Uncle Ron? He's a genius!" Cedric looked at her with evident surprise. "He was head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement before Dad and Uncle Draco convinced him to join their little Unspeakable brigade. Don't know what they get up to in the Department of Mysteries."

"What's with you and Harry?" Ginny blurted out before she could stop herself.

His face tightened. "Oh, I get it," he said softly. "This is a two way interrogation."

"You scratch my back …" Ginny shrugged.

"Fine, but you have to go first." He shrugged in return, leading her through an arbor doorway threaded with blooming vine roses of orange and pink.

"Why?"

"Because I asked first." Cedric flung himself into a large armchair near an elegantly mantled fireplace and waited expectantly.

"Potter logic – never fails," Ginny said, wrinkling her nose. She settled herself in a sofa across from Cedric, took a deep breath, and began.

Fifteen minutes later, and Cedric knew everything.

"And you guys still have no idea who the guy in red was?" he asked.

"None. I mean, I expect we're all thinking the same thing. You-Know-Who is involved in most weirdness that goes on in our time. "

"What, Voldemort?"

"Right." Ginny marveled. Whatever might be going on in his time, Cedric was clearly not a child born or raised in the era of Tom Riddle. ¨Anyway, I don't think so. It's just not his style." She felt a bitter smile on her face as she realized that she was speaking from experience. "Maybe one of his followers, though. Or just some nutter with an agenda. Anyone with enough brains could nick a Time-Turner, and we know there are still spies within the Ministry in our time."

"Uh-huh." Cedric nodded thoughtfully. "Plenty of greedy gits out there. Could be someone looking to sell, too."

"So, there's our story," Ginny sighed. She was suddenly very tired. "I've held up my end of the bargain. Now it's your turn."

"Fire away."

"Where's Zabini?"

"Who, Mum?" Cedric's eyes darkened. "Long story."

"Got all night," Ginny retorted. "And trust me, this whole future is bizarre enough that I want to get everything straightened out."

"What about polluting the time line?"

"Bit too late to worry about it, in my opinion," Ginny said evenly. "Keep you promise." She grinned. ¨Nephew.¨

"Oh, well, when you put it like that, Aunty," he returned with a grin. It faded quickly and he took a deep breath. "No one knows where Mum is. Apparently, she took off with one of Father's old friends from Hogwarts. A guy called Longbottom – "

"Neville?" Ginny couldn't take it in. That couldn't be right. In fact, it seemed so wrong –

"She left Dad a note, written in this special code of theirs," Cedric went on. "Apparently, she went a long way off and would be staying there forever. The note was pretty cryptic, but she definitely wrote it. Tristan was only four years old when this happened."

"So she just left him?" Ginny thought back to Harry's brooding expression and cold eyes. No wonder he looked so embittered. And no wonder he kept Tristan so close.

"But what's the deal with you and your father?" she pressed.

"I don't believe she really went off with Longbottom," Cedric said bluntly. "I mean, like, ran off with him, had an affair. I knew Mum. Granted, I was only nine when she left, but I knew her. She was lovely – most beautiful woman I've ever known. When Father came to me and told me that she was gone and didn't want us anymore, I refused to believe it. I swore I'd be the one to find her." He gave Ginny a dark smile. "I've been searching since I started at Hogwarts two years after she disappeared. I was a Gryffindor, of course, but I bullied a lot of the Slytherin kids whose parents had been Mum's friends into talking. None of them knew anything, because their parents had refused to have anything to do with her after she became a Potter."

"But what about Neville?" Ginny demanded. "He would have had kids at Hogwarts, wouldn't he? He was married or something, right?"

"He was – until he disappeared with Mum," Cedric nodded. "His son Kendal is one of my best friends. Ken's been looking for his dad, too. His mum raised him."

"His mother is –"

"Her name is Lavender."

"Lavender Brown, I bet," Ginny mumbled. "But anyway, back to your dad . . . "

"Yeah – him." Cedric glowered into the fire. "He won't help me look. He reckons she's somewhere in America or something, and he's still so hacked off about it he won't do anything."

"Why do you want to find her?"

"Because something's not right!" Cedric insisted. "I remember Mum really well. She was always slow to offer friendship, or love, or anything like that but once she did, she was in it for life. You should have seen her – she loved Father so much!" He looked suddenly far away. "He played Quidditch at the time – got signed by the Chudley Cannons, of all teams, straight out of Hogwarts and became their star Seeker. They rarely lost a match after he joined, Mum told me. Mum and Tris and I used to go to all his games. And he'd get us into the locker rooms and everything. Then he stopped for a while so he could be home with us for the few years before Mum left."

"Harry at professional Quidditch." Ginny smiled faintly. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Anyway, after Mum disappeared, Father became a reserve for Puddlemere and their head trainer so he could stay with me and Tris, but also keep working. When Tris went off to Hogwarts, he joined Uncle Draco as an Unspeakable. He guarded Tristy like a bloody mother lion. She doesn't really remember Mum, so she kind of buys into Father's rubbish about her leaving us. But I knew she had a good reason. I know Mum's out there somewhere." His eyes refocused and his expression was so intense and Ginny had a hard time meeting his eyes. ¨I know she'd want me to find her.¨

"How long have you been looking?" Ginny asked, involuntarily leaning back against the sofa.

"I've actually been traveling ever since I turned seventeen." Cedric shrugged. "Nothing so far, but I can't stop now. Uncle Draco sometimes gives me a hand behind Father's back with money and stuff, since Father won't help at all. And Uncle Ron's still furious that Mum hurt Father so much, but he really likes me so he gives me tips and access to Ministry maps and records."

Ginny sat back, her brain full to brimming with new ideas and insight.

"It's ironic, really," Cedric said, his voice thoughtful. "You and Uncle Draco are the happiest."

"How's that ironic?" Ginny asked.

"Because my father and Uncle Ron were always hero material," Cedric murmured, a sardonic smile on his face. "Uncle Draco wasn't much for that sort of thing until –" he broke off, and for the first time, his gaze slid away from Ginny's.

"What?" Ginny demanded.

She was amazed when Cedric hesitated. At last, looking deep into the fire, he said, "When Hayden was born, Uncle Draco was transformed. He couldn't say a cross word to anyone for months! Aunt Gin – you got pregnant again just about a year later. You – you almost died, giving birth."

Ginny's eyes widened.

"But – but that never happens in the wizarding world," she protested. "I mean, like, once a century, if that.¨

"You were two months premature," Cedric said quietly. "You'd been just fine all through the pregnancy and then, suddenly, you went into labor. We – we were all here. It was around Christmas. You just hit the ground and started bleeding –" he broke off, clearing his throat. "You're the only healer in our family, you know, and you were completely gone from pain and blood-loss. Uncle Draco, Aunt Mione, Uncle Ron, and Mum helped you through it right there. No one from St. Mungo's could come fast enough, since no one can Apparate or Floo in or out of here except the immediate family. And there was no thought of moving you or trying to tandem Apparate."

"Cedric, how old were you when this happened?" Ginny asked, leaning forward.

She saw him swallow. "I was seven. Mum had had Tristy just about two years before."

"Oh, my god."

"It wasn't so bad." He shrugged unconvincingly. "Father took me into another room so I couldn't see all the blood. Anyway, the baby finally came. Alive. Aunt – you had to stay in the entrance hall all night, because they couldn't move you. But you got better after a few months."

"And – and the baby?" Ginny whispered, her throat tight in anticipation.

"Clarissa died on her first birthday," Cedric murmured.

Ginny felt something cold settle in her stomach. Just the thought of losing a child struck a sharp chord within her. She swallowed against the dread rising in her throat. She had always been terrified of childbirth, ever since she had been introduced to what actually happened by her mum when she was thirteen. But the knowledge that she would go through an entire pregnancy, and nightmarish labor, and lose the precious infant a year later made her feel faint and mournful. She wanted to ask Cedric why the baby had died, but her throat was too tight.

"I think Uncle Draco became a hero the night he saved you," Cedric finished at length. He finally turned to look at her. "He's been your protector ever since. He went through a lot and came out one hell of a decent bloke."

"It would take something like that to change Draco Malfoy," Ginny muttered, though her spirits pluck up a bit. Draco would eventually care that deeply for her; the thought was strangely comforting.

"Anyway, I'm knackered." Cedric stretched and got to his feet. Apparently, he had had enough emotional instability for one night. "Come on, I'll show you to your room."

But hours later, even after a long bath in her private bathroom, Ginny was wide awake. Tears that had threatened earlier now spilled down her cheeks. She couldn't stop thinking of her baby, and what other horrors the future held for them all. Did everything have to end up that way now that Ginny and the others knew about it?

Not if she could help it.

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TBC