A/N: Going on five years (in October). That's how long this saga has been going. Feels like a lifetime to me as a writer. In a way, it represents a huge chunk of important growth in my writing (which is, I think, evident in earlier chapters). I don't know how I'll get on without having to worry about writing another chapter of War's End.

As you can see, I've incorporated "Bridging the Gap" into "War's End," and there's a good reason. This is the original epilogue – the one that should have been, but that became so long that it was, originally, billed as its own story. Now it is complete, thanks to this final chapter, so it should really be one great long saga. Now it is and that brings me joy!

Most importantly, it's done before the "Deathly Hallows" release in two days! I'm so thrilled!! My goal was to have this piece done before "Deathly Hallows" and I've made it – well, just barely, but I did make it!

A big, fatty thank you to all my readers. I've been getting email alerts on a daily basis now about reviews, but many of you wonderful readers have also tagged me with author alerts, favorite author, favorite story, etc. That means so much, particularly right now when my life is about to change in several drastic ways (end of college, leaving the country for two months, new home, new life, etc). Having your support while I do something timeless and wonderful – i.e. fan fiction – means more to me than I can ever express. Thank you! I adore you all!

Enough prattle. I hope you all enjoy the last update in this crazy adventure. I'm so grateful so many of you decided to come along for the ride

Loves,

J.T.

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

)BTG(

Ginny opened her eyes – or thought she did. She was floating in liquid gold and bathed in sunlight. The sunlight against the liquid gold shown with blinding brilliance and soaked Ginny's body with a warmth that sunk into every limb, massaging the ache from her body. She drank in the light.

I'm back in the womb, she thought contentedly, and promptly drowned in it.

When she woke again, the gold was gone. The light was gone. She felt as though her body were made of lead. Lead with lots of little needles in. She was a lead pin cushion.

"Ugh," she moaned, trying not to move lest the pain increase.

"Madam Pomphrey, she's coming round!" an eager and indecently loud voice called from someone beyond her closed eyes.

"Weasley, if you can't function without making a racket, get out!" another voice snapped.

"Don't start, you two," came a third voice, which sounded almost as weary as Ginny felt.

"All of you, move!" The unmistakable voice of Madam Pomphrey cut through the squabbling and Ginny heard the scuffling of "all of you" moving away.

"Miss Weasley," Madam Pomphrey said gently, close to Ginny's ear. "Miss Weasley, can you hear me?"

"Mmm," Ginny grunted quietly, wishing she hadn't come to at all.

"I need you to open your eyes, Miss Weasley," Madam Pomphrey said. Her voice was soothing and sunk into Ginny's head, calming the ache. She felt a hand brush her forehead and the dead weight of her body seemed to lighten a bit.

Ginny peeled open her eyes to a dark hospital ward.

"How do you feel?" Madam Pomphrey asked, surveying Ginny with a critical eye.

"Like…a rock," Ginny croaked. "Water?" she asked hopefully.

Madam Pomphrey pointed her wand at a glass on Ginny's bedside table and filled it. Then she supported Ginny's head while Ginny drank as though she had spent a year in the desert. Madam Pomphrey let her drain the glass, filled it again, and let her drink. At length, Ginny leaned back into the pillow.

"What – what happened?" she asked, the ache intensifying as she continued to wake up.

"A healthy bout of the Cruciatus Curse," Madam Pomphrey said grimly. "It's a wonder you came round. After the first week, we began to really worry."

"The first week?" Ginny demanded, struggling to remember what in Merlin's name she had been doing. She remembered the camp and her training with Draco. Then she remembered the attack. There were Death Eaters.

"Professor Lupin!" Ginny cried, sitting bolt upright and crying out simultaneously. She collapsed backward.

"Calm yourself, please!" Madam Pomphrey said firmly. "You'll do yourself an injury and your body is simply not able to handle any more trauma."

Ginny couldn't have moved again if she had wanted to. She blinked against tears. Madam Pomphrey softened a bit.

"Dear, your body and mind have suffered damage. We think you may have experienced more than five minutes of Cruciatus." Madam Pomphrey tucked the sheets in around her and waved her wand over the bed. Several numbers that meant nothing to Ginny appeared against the white linen. Madam Pomphrey shook her head. "If you're to make a full recovery in a reasonable amount of time, you'll need to remain in bed for the rest of the week. I'm going to keep you here for observation."

"Good – can we come in?"

The curtains around the bed had been drawn and the voice came from just beyond.

"One at a time and don't overwhelm her!" Madam Pomphrey ordered.

"I'm coming in!"

"I don't think so! She's my sister."

A third cut in, "When you two are done bickering," and Blaise came through the divide in the curtain, followed by Hermione.

"We'll be quick, Madam Pomphrey," Hermione promised, when the hospital matron opened her mouth to object.

"Very well," she huffed. "But see that those boys behave themselves. Miss Weasley needs her rest and their arguing will certainly not contribute to that." She left.

"How are you, Ginny?" Hermione asked eagerly, hurrying to the bedside with a frantic look of relief that Ginny recognized from past adventures.

"I feel like I was in a stampede – or under one, anyway," Ginny murmured, closing her eyes. "How long was I out?"

"Week and a half," Blaise said, stepping up to the other side of the bed. She bit her lip. "I'm so sorry, Gin."

"Sorry?" Ginny said in surprise, opening her eyes and staring at her friend. "What could you possibly be sorry for?"

"I was supposed to look out for you!" Blaise tugged viciously at a loose thread. "I was in charge of you – you're just a trainee and I – I lost you and when I found you –"

"Zabini's not telling you everything," Hermione interrupted, holding up a hand. "She saved your life, Ginny."

"Barely!" Blaise snapped. "I shouldn't have left her at all!"

"That's not the point." Hermione took Ginny's hand in hers and said, without taking her eyes off Blaise, "From what I hear, Blaise got Bellatrix LeStrange off you just in time. Took her by surprise and sent her scurrying. Then she got you to the Apparation barrier by carrying you and tandem Apparating straight to Hogsmeade. She carried you from Hogsmeade to the school gates and all the way to the hospital wing."

Ginny looked at Blaise. The Slytherin was still glowering at the bed sheets.

"You fought Bellatrix LeStrange?" she asked quietly. "You carried me all the way from Hogsmeade?"

"It was the only way and you almost didn't make it," Blaise mumbled, blinking hard.

"I did make it, though," Ginny said. With tremendous effort, she lifted her free hand and squeezed her friend's arm. "Look, I've never been better."

Blaise let out a reluctant chuckle. "Sure." But she looked a little less unhappy.

"So – we're at Hogwarts?" Ginny said slowly. She had already realized this, of course, but she was trying to collect her thoughts. "And – what happened to the camp?"

"After taking as many Death Eaters as they could, they had to disband," Hermione said. "Most of them came here, but a few went straight off to join other teams."

"And the Malfoys? LeStrange?" Ginny asked tremulously.

"Escaped, but only just." Blaise's fingers knotted around a wad of bed sheet.

"And Bill? Lupin? Draco?" Ginny felt a pang of anxiety in her stomach.

"All fine, although Lupin wasn't in great shape when they brought him in," Blaise said, her hand relaxing a bit.

Ginny felt tears pricking her eyes, sharp with relief.

"And Draco's been hanging round almost every day since you got here," Blaise went on, her voice lightening mischievously. "Been a right nuisance."

"Have not!" came an indignant retort from the other side of the barrier.

Ginny giggled and let Hermione wipe her eyes with a corner of the blanket. "Who else is out there with him?"

"Harry and Ron," Hermione said, grinning as she dabbed. "For the moment, at least, we're all together again."

"I think the gits are about to tear down the curtain, so we'd better let them have a turn with you," Blaise said, rolling her eyes as the curtain around the bed rustled tellingly.

"Take care, Gin," Hermione said, leaning down and kissing her forehead.

"Yeah, hang in there," Blaise said gruffly, gripping Ginny's hand briefly.

The girls left and the boys came pouring into the little space.

"Harry!" Ginny was relieved to see that, whatever he had been recalled to Hogwarts for, it didn't seem to be taking a toll yet.

"Oh, that's nice," Ron sulked. "No joy in seeing your brother, is there?"

"I'm glad to see you, Ron!"

"Oh, all right then." He kissed her cheek. "How are you, Gin?"

"About what you'd expect."

"You do look dreadful," Draco put in. He stood beside Harry at the foot of the bed, his arms folded. "Ow, Potter!"

"You look lovely," Harry assured her.

"Don't lie, Harry." Ginny couldn't help a smile. She expected their brand of stirring-up would do her good.

"So, what're Healer's Orders?" Ron asked, seating himself on the side of the bed and not releasing her hand.

"Bed rest for the rest of the week, at least," Ginny sighed. It sounded wonderful now, but she expected that when her strength returned she would be sorely tempted to attempt an escape.

"Poor Gin." Harry smiled, patting her foot. "Don't worry, though. You'll be fit as a flea in a few days, and we'll break you out."

"That's sweet of you, Harry," she laughed, then groaned when her bruised ribs protested painfully.

"All right, that's enough," Draco spoke up imperiously. He had been rather quiet. "Both of you out. I need a word with Miss Weasley."

"Oh, do you?" Ron taunted.

"Go on, Ron," Ginny said. "I'm fine and I'll see you later?"

"Course you will," Ron said gruffly. He squeezed her hand and nodded to Harry.

"Take care, Gin." Harry patted her foot one last time and followed his friend through the break in the curtains.

Ginny smiled after then before turning her attention to Draco. "Well, Malfoy?"

"Well, Weasley." He tucked his hands into the pockets of his robes and glared at her.

"Okay, it so was not my fault that I was hurt," she insisted.

"Oh, I'd say it was," he growled. "You should have run the second Bellatrix appeared in that tent. What could she have done to Lupin in his wolf form?"

"Apart from take him back to Voldemort for questioning, i.e. torturing, and certain death?" Ginny asked, fighting to control her temper and her exhaustion, which lethal combination had caused untold damage before. Her lip trembled traitorously.

"He accepted that risk when he joined the Order," Draco said stubbornly.

"So did I," Ginny retorted. He looked ready to object, so she held up a warning finger. "I don't want to hear it. I made a choice, too. I'm a trainee, but I'm just as much obligated to defend the Order now as I will be when I'm a full member."

Draco didn't say anything. He stood at the foot of her bed, now glaring not at her but at her bed spread. Ginny bit her lip, watching the top of his blonde head and realizing with a sinking feeling in her stomach that this was what Mum had been talking about. It wasn't simply that she hadn't wanted Ginny and Draco involved because they would be distracted from their duty. She didn't want them to suffer the kind of agony Draco must have suffered when no one knew if Ginny would wake up.

"I'm very sorry, Draco." Her voice was so small she wasn't sure he heard her. She closed her eyes and willed him away. She heard footsteps and the rustle of the curtain around the bed.

Then she felt a hand against her cheek. She opened her eyes.

"No, I'm sorry," he said, pressing his hand against her face. "I'm sorry I bloody well can't stop loving you. It would make things so much easier."

Ginny's mind couldn't catch up with his words or the impression of his lips against hers. By the time she had begun to react, he was gone through the curtains, leaving nothing but a ghost behind him.

Ginny laid back and stared at the ceiling, ignoring the tears running passed her ears and into her hair.

Sometime after daybreak, she fell asleep.

)BTG(

Not for the first time, Hermione found Harry roaming the common room of Gryffindor Tower, sleepless and impatient, and took him on a late-night stroll.

"Harry," she said as they wandered moon-dappled corridors with no direction in mind. "You need to talk to me. You need to talk to someone. You bottle things up and then you make things explode. Explosions aren't good and they're caused by you not telling people when you're bothered." She gave him a patented 'just-so' look. "Therefore, to avoid explosions – literal or emotional – you should talk to me."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry muttered. "Go all logical on me."

Hermione smiled, used to his brand of humor, and took his arm. "I know it's not just waiting around in the castle for something to happen with Voldemort. I've no right to pry, of course – "

"Nor do you need to, I expect," Harry cut in, giving her a nudge. "Know-it-all."

"Well," Hermione said, and he could hear her pleasure at the backward complement. "But, Harry, really. You've never been – " Hermione checked herself and said carefully, "You've never been terribly … lucky with matters of the heart, have you?"

Harry groaned. "Ah, familiar stomping ground. Knew we'd get there eventually."

"I know I bring it up a lot," Hermione admitted. "And I'm sorry. Actually," she amended. "I'm not. I know Ron isn't going to and you need to talk to someone."

"What do you want me to say?" he asked in defeat.

"Whatever's on your mind," Hermione said gently.

"It's the usual, I promise," he told her. "Nothing you haven't heard before. I mean, I know I should be thinking about Voldemort, and believe me, I am. But I didn't expect to see Ginny or Draco or Blaise again – at least, not for a long time – and now here they are and it's even harder with Blaise than it was before –"

"And have you considered, as I mention every time this comes up, just talking to her about this?" Hermione asked. "I mean," she went on, an edge in her voice, "far be it from me to challenge the whims of Mrs. Weasley, but she isn't necessarily right."

"About what?" Harry asked.

"You know – she gave Malfoy and Ginny a hard time about having any kind of relationship during this war," Hermione said carefully. Like Harry, Hermione owed Mrs. Weasley a lot and Harry knew she was loathed to be too harsh on the older woman. "I expect her influence had something to do with your decision not to keep on with Blaise."

"Keep on what?" Harry demanded, feeling unaccountably defensive.

"Being in love with her," Hermione said bluntly, and Harry actually jumped at the words. "What?" she said. "It's true, isn't it? It was so obvious and you were so happy with her." She pulled him to a halt in a patch of moonlight that shown through a large window. "Harry, I'm one of your closest friends. I've known you longer than anyone except Ron. Really known you, I mean, not just fought with you all the time." Harry knew she was referencing his sudden, inexplicable friendships with Draco and Blaise. He appreciated her tolerance and that she wasn't threatened by the new connections.

Hermione caught his hands and gripped them tightly. "Harry, I've never seen you as happy as you were when you were with Blaise. You had this twinkle in your eye all the time, even when you were exhausted or upset. When you didn't know if she would make it from the safe house to 5 Inmind St., I was scared for you. I knew if she didn't make it for some reason, it would hurt you terribly." Hermione caught his chin and forced him to look her in the eye. "There's something special about you two. Even Ron can't ignore it."

A surprised chuckle escaped Harry. Hermione nudged him, smiling, but her eyes were still serious.

"I think it's the same with Draco and Ginny."

"And you and Ron."

Hermione blushed. "Don't know," she said, with a careless shrug. "And we're not talking about me, are we?"

"No, of course not," Harry said, taking her arm and continuing down the corridor.

"Harry Potter, you wipe that smirk off your face," Hermione ordered.

"But he wears it so well," a new voice said.

Draco and Blaise came into view at the other end of the corridor.

"After all," Draco continued as they met in the middle. "He learned all he knows from me."

"Modest, too," Blaise mumbled, a twitch at the corner of her mouth. Harry liked that twitch, though he thought it best not to give it too much thought.

"Malfoy, just the ferret I've been trying to hunt down the last couple of days," Hermione said brightly, surprising Harry and the Slytherins in one fell swoop.

Draco's expression warped into a passable imitation of his former distain. "And what, Granger, could you possibly have to say that would interest me?"

"Two words," Hermione said. "Color-coded charts."

Draco looked dismayed and bit his lip. "You're a woman of evil means."

"Come on," Hermione said, crossing her arms of over her chest and favoring him with a superior smile. "I know you can't resist the lure of color-coding."

Draco looked piteously at her. Then he looked back and forth between Harry and Blaise. Then he rolled his eyes.

"Oh, go on, then," he muttered, grabbing her arm and dragging her off down the corridor.

"Remember that chart we had to make for Arithmancy in January last year?" Hermione started in immediately.

"Wasn't it a glorious assignment?" Draco said. Harry thought he might be gushing.

"Oh, yes! I was so excited to be making such important charts. Who knew Centaurian astronomy could be so accurate and calculable in the context of Brash Ringle's theories?"

"Surely you're not a Ringle follower," Draco returned. Harry could hear the eye-roll. "Everyone who's studied Marshe's Theory of Extension knows that Ringler's theories were based on incomplete data …" His voice and their footsteps disappeared around a bend in the corridor and the nightly silence returned.

"Well, that was awkwardly contrived," Blaise said at last.

"And only a little totally obvious," Harry agreed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Blaise and Draco had appeared out of nowhere – how much had they heard of Harry and Hermione's conversation?

"I'm a little disappointed in Draco," Blaise said. "He's usually so cunning."

"I guess he's been spending too much time with me," Harry said, shrugging. "I don't really do cunning."

At last, a faint smile flickered across her face. "No, cunning's not really your style."

"Since we agree about that, can I walk you to the kitchens for a snack?" Harry offered, butterflies in his stomach.

The smile returned and stayed. "You've got yourself a date, Potter."

)BTG(

Draco knew that Ginny's return to health meant a return to the field and he wasn't quite ready to concede that step. Harry, Git Brother Weasley the Youngest, and Granger had been pulled from the field during a time when every member of the Order who could be spared was needed. Whatever the Dream Team had been pulled for, it was important and it was top secret.

Draco had to know what it was.

Last year around the same time, he would have insisted it was Slytherin curiosity – why did the Dream Team get special castle accommodations? Now, he didn't even bother. He was worried about Harry I-Can-Do-It-All-Alone Potter.

He's my friend, for Merlin's sake, Draco reminded himself as he stalked toward the hospital wing for his daily check-up on Ginny. He just knew the git was up to something, and while he trusted Granger to look out for Harry, he didn't like to trust other people with his friend's safety.

The trick would be convincing Potter or Granger to tell him the ultimate plot against the Dark Lord and let him in on the planning. He was sure that between him and Granger (and their stunning color-coded charts) they could come up with something really fool-proof so that Potter went in as well-prepared as possible. One thing that kept niggling at the back of his mind was that Blaise was somehow going to be key. He had absolutely no idea where this persistent little thought was coming from or what it really meant, but he trusted his instincts and they all said that Blaise at least needed to be in on the game plan.

And if Blaise got to stay, Draco would be damned if he would be left out.

And if he stayed, then of course Ginny would need to come with. After all, he was training her and Blaise was in charge of her in times of crisis.

Fight that logic, Dumbledore, Draco thought triumphantly.

Draco kept himself busy with these thoughts the rest of the way to the hospital wing, sensible that allowing them to dwell too long on Ginny would make visiting her that much harder. While she had been in serious pain and barely able to move, the thought of ravishing her had not been an attractive one, simply because he wanted to be able to pull her against him, bruise her lips, tangle her hair, and generally give her that "I've been ravished" look that she wore so well. Now that she was on the healthy side (her recovery becoming rapid toward the week's end), he had less of a reason for his restraint. The only thing still holding him back was his fear that seeing her in danger would hurt even more difficult to bear if they became –

If they became what? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Lovers?

Draco snorted. Trite terminology, he thought darkly, then scowled as he realized that he had begun thinking about her without even recognizing the transition.

He paused outside the hospital wing, took a deep breath, and pushed the doors open.

The wing was almost empty. A few of the beds had the hangings drawn, but they were on opposite sides of the wing from Ginny's bed. Her curtains weren't drawn and Draco saw several people already with her.

"Draco!"

Draco crossed to meet them in the middle of the wing, relieved for the momentary delay in visiting Ginny.

"Professor," he nodded. "Nymphadora," he drawled, quirking the usual challenging brow at his cousin.

"Itty bitty cousin Draco," she retorted, rising to the occasion.

"Please, you two. Don't start," Lupin said, though Draco could see him fighting a smile. "We've already tired Ginny out with our news."

"News?" Draco asked, his eyes still on his cousin.

"Oh, nothing that would interest you, since it's not about you," Tonks said.

"Tonks," Lupin said, shaking his head and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, fine. Spoil my fun," she grumbled. She wrapped her arms around his waist and gave Draco as close to a genuine smile as she had ever given him. "Remus and I are getting married." She grinned a wicked grin. "Want to be the flower girl?"

"All right, we're leaving," Lupin said, offering a hand to Draco. "I'm sure I'll see you again before you leave. Take care, Draco."

"You as well, Professor," Draco said, taking the proffered hand. "And I would offer you congratulations, but I know who you're marrying."

"Oh, sod off, you blonde twerp!" Tonks snapped, and her hair went from bubblegum pink to dark purple as she glared at him.

"Ow, you've struck me in the heart, cousin," Draco groaned, pretending to swoon.

"Oh, for –" Lupin took his intended by the arm and dragged her away. She stuck her tongue out at Draco over Lupin's shoulder.

"How very mature," came a tired voice.

Draco took a deep breath, braced himself, and turned to join Ginny in her little section of the hospital wing. He made room for himself on the chair beside the bed and took an observation.

"You're looking better," he said at once.

"Yeah right," she said. She was sitting up against a stack of pillows, but her head lolled back against them.

"I won't be here long," he said in what he hoped was a reassuring way but what he expected sounded rather like a grumble.

"No, stay." Ginny blinked and tried to smile her usual bright smile. It came out rather flat. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, and I'm half giant," he retorted. "Come on, Weasley, time to lie down." He stood and pushed her gently away from the pillows, arranging them and helping her stretch out on her back. She did so, sinking into the pillows and offering a more genuine smile. Draco heart fluttered and he gave it an internal walloping.

"Don't go," Ginny repeated. "Tell me the latest escape plan."

As Ginny began to recover, they had all been sure that she'd make a massive fuss about having to stay cooped up in the hospital wing for another week. To everyone's surprise, she had been very quiet about it. She made feeble jokes about leaving, but nothing more. On one of his first visits, Draco had been trying keep things casual and lighthearted, so he had said the first thing that popped into his head: "I have an escape plan."

Ginny had laughed weakly and said she hoped it involved him carrying her and her bed; otherwise, she didn't know how she would manage.

"This is a very good plan," Draco assured her now, absently trailing his fingers up and down her outstretched arm. Also tradition, and eventually she would capture his fingers in hers and he would rub his thumb over the back of her hand until she nodded off to sleep. As long as they stuck to the usual routine (and avoided discussing why were they pretending not to love each other when clearly they did) they were fine.

Ginny listened to his latest scheme with her weary eyes fixed on his face.

"It's foolproof!" he finished with his usual flourish.

"As usual," she quipped, squeezing the fingers she had captured during his long unveiling. Draco chose not to look at her, but couldn't resist brushing the back of her hand with his lips.

"I have a real scheme for you," he said at length. "Tell me what you think."

"I always do," she said, and Draco met her eyes, now faintly lit with mischief in the waning light from the sunny evening outside.

Draco braced himself. "When you get well again," he said slowly. "They'll want us back in the field."

"Of course," she said as stoutly as an exhausted post-traumatic invalid could. She was an impressive woman.

"What if we stayed here and helped Potter and your brother and Granger?" he said very fast.

Ginny bit her lip. "I was hoping someone else would suggest it."

Draco blinked. "You mean you've wanted to stay all along?"

Ginny snorted. "Of course! Why do you think I've not tried to escape from the hospital wing all week?"

Draco didn't like to point out that he thought she hadn't tried to escape from the hospital wing all week because she didn't have the energy, so instead he asked, "What's your plan for convincing old Mighty Knickers Head Master to let us stick around here when we're all needed out there right now?"

"Two words: Blaise Zabini," Ginny said. "Blaise stays, we stay. And my gut tells me that Blaise is key. Something in the research she's been doing about the Holy Grail. I'm sure she's got something we could use."

"And that's how you plan to convince Dumbledore that we're all needed here?" Draco said skeptically, not mentioning his surprise that her gut and his seemed to be in sync about his Slytherin housemate.

"No. I plan to tell him that if we aren't allowed to stay, we're all joining the Death Eaters," Ginny said, raising challenging eyebrows.

Draco bit his lip hard to stifle a laugh. Ginny grinned a roguish grin and squeezed his fingers.

"One of us has to be cunning, you know," she said, burrowing a little further into her blankets and giving him an innocent look.

"Because I am a gentleman, I won't be responding to that with a witty retort," Draco shot back. "Also because I am a gentleman, I will leave you to get some rest so that you'll have the energy to go to Dumbledore tomorrow and deliver our ultimatum."

"It's fool-proof," Ginny said, sticking out her lip. "Don't go just yet."

"On condition that you settle down and sleep before I get kicked out," Draco said firmly, tucking the blankets more snugly around her with his free hand.

"On condition that you kiss me goodnight."

Draco's eyes snapped up, his hand freezing on the blankets. Ginny was staring back, looking tired and a little fierce – no mean feat, as she was lying down.

"I'm serious," she answered his unspoken question. "I'm tired of this, Draco. You want to kiss me and I want you to kiss me. So do it."

Draco stood, pulling his fingers away from hers and turning away. He stared out the window beside her bed, rubbing his hand over his face. The setting sun was almost gone behind the distant hills. The last rays dazzled Draco's eyes and he let them, though he rather wished the light were gone. He couldn't control the twist of his lips, and he was sure Ginny could see him.

"You're brave enough to tell me you love me," Ginny said slowly. "And then you run off."

"Don't do this," Draco cut her off through gritted teeth. "We were going along fine. Don't ruin it."

"There's nothing to ruin," Ginny insisted. Draco couldn't help turning back to her. She looked exhausted; haggard. Despite this, there was a little spark left in her eyes. "We walk on eggshells and pretend we're friends. Believe me, I don't let Harry kiss my hand when he visits."

Draco felt his lip curl at the very idea and despite her gravity, Ginny giggled.

"Calm yourself, Mr. Malfoy," she said. Her laughter died as quickly as it had risen. "But I am serious. I don't care about Mum. I feel like we're wasting time."

She struggled to sit up and Draco was at her side in an instant, without any clear idea how he got there. She leaned against him.

"I love you, Draco," she said into the front of his shirt. "And you love me." She tilted her head back and Draco's heart slammed into his ribs. "What more is there?"

He stared into her face, memorizing every freckle, every fleck of gold in her eyes, every pale highlight in her hair.

"There's a war," he said with a firmness that surprised him. He pulled back, half-pushing, half-supporting Ginny back onto the bed. She stared up at him with narrow eyes. He reached out to touch her cheek, but she turned her face away. For a moment, Draco wanted nothing more than to snap at her and run away. But he loved her. He needed to prove it now or she would never believe him.

"Ginny, look at me," he ordered. He could see her chin trembling, and with gentle fingers, he gripped it and tugged until she turned back to look at him. "Look," he said, trying not to back down under her gaze. "I'm not enjoying this and I'm not taking back anything I've said. But …" He paused, searching for the words. Not the nice words – the true words. "We're young, Gin. Very young and there is a war on. I'm not saying we don't legitimately love each other," he added quickly when she opened her mouth with evident indignation. "But … Gin, I want to be able to kiss you without being afraid it'll be our last kiss. I want to hold you and be willing to let go. I want us to be safe."

"We'll never be safe," Ginny cut in mutinously.

"Then we'll never be able to be happy together," Draco retorted. Ginny looked startled and he took advantage of her surprise to plunge recklessly on. "Suppose we did become … whatever. Partners; a couple; lovers; husband and wife. Suppose we went too far. Suppose, like Potter's parents, we had a child. Ginny," he said desperately, "it's not safe. Do you want to live with the fear your mum lives with every single day? All of her kids are out on battle fields! You've seen what that does to her. And she didn't have a choice. We do."

To his alarm, tears were dribbling down Ginny's face.

"You want to marry me?" she whispered.

Draco rolled his eyes. Not necessarily a wise response, but he felt like he was riding an out-of-control broomstick and he had given up trying to hold on. "Maybe someday. But I don't want to hate that choice, right? I want to make that choice when I'm not rushing into it and when I know that the world will be at least safe enough that I can protect you. I don't know that right now …"

"Oh, Draco." Ginny sniffled loudly and her eyes continued to stream.

"Sleep now," he ordered, his face warming. He bunched up his cuff and brushed the tears from her cheeks, feeling a strong sense of déjà vu, so familiar a feeling that he almost didn't notice.

Ginny stared up at him through wet lashes.

"Please, Gin," he begged. "You're making me nervous."

She gulped a laugh and obediently closed her eyes.

"Stay with me till I fall asleep," she ordered, yawning.

Long after her breathing had slowed and the tear tracks across her face had dried, Draco left the darkened hospital wing, leaving as well some unnamed ghost, some fearful phantom who, he knew, he would never see again.

)BTG(

Ginny's release from the hospital wing occurred several days later. The morning after that, Draco called a council of war in the kitchens, where they were waited upon by a gleeful Dobby and his small army of house elves.

After much deliberation, and some coaxing from Blaise and Ginny, Harry was invited, along with Ron and Hermione.

Ginny knew Draco wouldn't want Ron there and knew that he was only a little happier with Hermione. With the unexpected, but welcome, help of Blaise, Ginny tried to explain her reasoning for wanting them in on the secret as well as she could.

"You can't know how important those two are to Harry," she insisted. "They're like his right hand and his … um …"

She was floundering for a fitting simile for Hermione when Blaise put in with no little amusement, "His brain."

Draco snorted. "No doubt Potter needs all the help he can get, but …"

"But, nothing," Ginny said, determined that he not think too hard about this, lest he come up with a good reason not to ask Ron and Hermione. "They have been his friends, more so than any of us, for years. He needs them and in order to convince him that he needs us, we'll need to convince them."

Draco had grumbled, but couldn't argue. Ginny also knew he couldn't deny that he and Ron made a good team, when they weren't taking the mickey out of each other.

And so here they all were, seated on stools around a wooden countertop with about fifteen house elves each trying to feed them. Ginny couldn't help a smile as she watched Harry and Draco simultaneously bite the heads off their gingerbread men and then nibble off the gumdrop eyes one at a time. She felt that for diplomatic reasons it would be unwise to remind Ron how alike his best friend and his favorite enemy were. She did notice Blaise and Hermione watching the two boys with fascination.

"Ahem," Ginny said, and immediately had everyone's attention. "I now call our first official meeting to order."

Ron snorted. "Only official meeting," he corrected. "You lot are being shipped out in a couple days."

"Delicately put," Ginny retorted, and heard a snort from Draco. "Our being 'shipped out' is why Draco, Blaise, and I have called this meeting."

"Oh, really?" Hermione said, and Ginny saw her lip twitching.

"Don't laugh, Mione," Harry chided, his expression both serious and sad. Ginny was heartened – she was sure Harry didn't want them to leave. It would be convincing him to let them stay here and help (rather than simply stay here where he knew they would be safe) that would be the challenge.

"Thank you, Harry," she said primly, hefting her chin and looking around at her friends. She had the untimely realization that they were all older than her. "Now. To business."

"To business," Blaise said, raising her glass of pumpkin juice. Ginny glared at her and she subsided with a cough that clearly masked a laugh. "Sorry, Gin, go on."

"It's like this," Ginny said quickly, realizing that if she didn't get it out there soon, they would be there until the end of the war. "Blaise and Draco and I want to stay here with you lot. For good."

A moment of brittle silence followed. Hermione broke it at last with, "And … I assume you have a good reason for wanting to stay?"

"As a matter of fact, we do," Draco said, sounding defensive to Ginny's ears. "The fact is, Potter needs us."

Ron snorted. "Right. Needs you."

"Don't laugh, Ron!" Ginny glared at her brother. "You haven't even heard us out."

"Right, go on then," Ron said, waving a dismissive hand that clutched a limbless gingerbread man.

"It's like this," Blaise said. "I won't beat about the bush. I'm sure things were much simpler and chummier for you three when you were an exclusive little club. But it's more complicated than that. The three of us – " she indicated herself, Draco, and Ginny – "have our own bond with Harry. And it's just as valid and important as yours. We don't think you can look after Harry all by yourselves anymore, so we're butting in."

"Oh, please. Don't spare us honesty," Hermione cut in, rolling her eyes.

"I can take care of myself!" Harry contributed with no little indignation.

Everyone stared at him a moment, then simultaneously burst out laughing.

"What?" he demanded over the noise.

"You? Look after yourself?" Ron gasped, clutching his sides. "Good one, mate."

"I resent that," Harry muttered.

"Oh, Harry." Hermione gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and Ginny saw Blaise's eyes narrow. "We only know you can't take care of yourself because you can't. Also, we love you."

"Whoa, there!" Draco held his hands before him as though warding off the Plague.

"We do," Hermione insisted, a wicked gleam in her eye. "It's okay, Malfoy. This is a safe place to share your real feelings – "

"Hermione, stop," Ron pleaded. He looked revolted.

"I'm begging you," Harry added, looking vaguely ill.

"I promise you Weasley's first-born child if you stop," Draco put in.

Hermione turned bright red and Ron sputtered.

"Before this deteriorates further," Blaise said impatiently over Ginny and Harry's laughter.

"Right," Ginny said, clearing her throat as the others quieted down. "Anyway, like Blaise said, Harry needs all the help he can get. We're the rest of the help he's got. So – we stay."

"Not so fast." Ron eyed his sister with a look she recognized and hated. "Gin, you know what we're helping Harry to do. Why we're at Hogwarts still instead of out in the field."

"And it's not just that," Hermione cut in, probably suspecting that a battle over Ron's protective instincts was building. "Dumbledore pulled the three of us. Just the three of us – Harry, Ron, and I. If he thought Harry needed more help, he would have pulled you, too. But he probably needs you in the field right now. He needs everyone he's got out there."

"But all that field work, Mione." Ginny willed her friend to understand. "It's so Harry can succeed. Without the Dark Lord, his followers will fall to pieces and we won't be needed in the field. The faster Voldemort can be dealt with, the better for everyone. We can help this go faster."

"Gin, surely your parents won't let you stay here," Harry said hesitantly.

"Why?" she demanded. "Bloody well safer here than where I was. They'll be thrilled I'm holed up in Hogwarts with Ron to coddle me and put me to bed at a proper hour."

"I'll put you to bed at a proper hour – " Draco began. He yelped and glared at Ron.

"And we're not coming into this empty-handed," Blaise said, quelling Ron and Draco with a look. "On Dumbledore's orders, I've been researching a potentially valuable magical object since I left Hogwarts."

"The Grail?" Draco asked, losing interest in kicking Ron under the table.

"The Grail." Blaise pulled out the Caduceus she kept in a sleeve holster she had acquired for her seventeenth birthday and rolled the stone wand between her hands. "I don't know everything I need to know about the Grail – pieces are still missing – but the Grail may be the key. It may have the power Harry needs stop the Dark Lord." She looked speculatively at Hermione. "Judging by the fact that you're all still hanging round Hogwarts, I assume you've found nothing in your research?"

Hermione looked mightily offended at the idea that her research had been inconclusive, but couldn't argue the point. "I have all kinds of leads, but nothing that stands out or that Voldemort might not know about."

"The Grail is primarily of interest to Muggles," Harry put in thoughtfully. "Blaise told me. Its legends are all Muggle speculation."

"So the Dark Lord isn't likely to want anything to do with them," Draco finished. "And so it could be the unexpected thing that breaks him."

"Exactly," Ginny said. "Blaise has the research, and Draco and I are part of the package deal. It's all of us or none of us."

"Why, though?" Hermione said skeptically. "I'm sure I could dig up loads of information on the Grail. I don't limit myself to research in the wizarding world, you know. I have easy access to Muggle libraries."

"Don't you think I thought of that already, Granger?" Blaise demanded irritably. Ginny suspected she was still sore about the hand-on-the-arm incident. "I was next in our year after you, you know. I've done my Muggle research as well, which is how I know their libraries and data sources have more information about the Grail. But," she paused, then went reluctantly on, "my research, which, may I remind you, I've been doing for over a year, had to be put on hold when I went into the field." She paused again, but this time, Ginny suspected she was doing it for dramatic effect. "But I do have more ideas of where to look and I think I know where to find the missing pieces of information. Only I have access to this information, but I can't get to it alone." She raised challenging brows at Hermione. "So – do we work together or not at all?"

Hermione glared at the countertop. Blaise had trumped and fascinated her in one fell swoop, and everyone at the table knew it. Ginny began to breathe again as she realized that the fight was over. The Grail was now a potentially vital tool for Harry and Ginny knew that intelligent, loving Hermione wouldn't dream of throwing it away.

"Where do you expect to find this information?" she asked grudgingly.

"Hang on a tick," Ron cut in. "No agreements yet. They're not staying."

"Ron, the Grail could be the answer we've been looking for," Hermione retorted. "I don't like it any more than you do, but we need Zabini – "

"Fine, keep Zabini," Ron insisted. "Send Ginny back to Bill – "

"Where she was nearly killed by Bellatrix LeStange?" Hermione snapped. "Don't be ridiculous, Ronald."

"They're staying."

Everyone stared at Harry. He looked back, his eyes dark with decision.

"All of you can stay," he said softly. "I'll fix it with Dumbledore. He told me to use whatever resources were necessary." He grinned a small, lopsided grin. "You've all proven you're more than necessary." He looked around at them all, cleared his throat, and said in a tight voice, "I'm very grateful you're all here."

No one spoke for a long moment. Finally, Draco said, "So … you should probably get going, Potter. Arguing Dumbledore out of two-and-a-half field wizards isn't going to be easy."

Ginny nudged him none-too-gently in the ribs. "Who're you calling 'and-a-half'?"

)BTG(

The next three weeks flew by. The six of them spent most of their time in the library. Blaise kept the location of the final pieces of Grail information she needed to herself. She spent a lot of time alone, huddled in the library well after the others had all turned in for the night. She knew Harry worried about her, but she also knew that the faint hint of a plan that had formed in her mind during that first meeting kitchens might just be the answer he needed to end the war.

Oh, she had a plan. But if her plan succeeded, Harry would pay the ultimate price to save them all. Blaise had to be sure this plan was the only plan – the only possible way – before she let even a hint of it drop. She wasn't worried that Harry would refuse – quite the contrary.

She had a steadily growing tangle of parchment notes and was adding a fresh roll to a pile one particularly late night when a shadow fell across her.

"Harry, go to bed." She couldn't bare to look at him just then.

"Nope. I've waited long enough," he insisted, sitting cross-legged on the table and staring determinedly down at her. "Tell me what all this rubbish is, or … or I'll get Malfoy up here to help me raid it."

Blaise deposited her last sheaf of parchment, rubbed her eyes, and allowed a small smile. "I just want to get it right. It would be awful if I told you I had a way and I didn't because I missed something." Or if there was another way that wouldn't cost you so much.

"You're just like Hermione," he grumbled. He went pink. "Except that … Hermione's like my sister."

"Too right. I'd be a terribly sister." The smile grew, in spite of the tightness in her chest.

"I don't know anything about your family," he said in his artless way.

Blaise shifted uncomfortably. "Not much to tell. They all think Purebloods rule the world. They actually belong to a selective group of Purebloods – including Draco's parents – who believe in the Purge."

"The Purge?" Harry leaned forward.

"Basically, it's a Pureblood occult that believes in purging Muggleborns from the wizarding world." Blaise could see them in her mind's eye. "My parents both believe in the Purge. So do my brothers."

"I didn't know you had brothers," Harry said. Something in his eyes, both empathetic and curious, willed Blaise to go on.

"Jesus graduated Hogwarts when I was eight. Hades graduated the year before my first year."

Harry's mouth twisted. "Interesting names."

"Guess where they came from." Blaise rolled her eyes.

"Right; Grail legend." Harry pursed his lips. "But … if the Grail is a Muggle thing, wouldn't your parents want to disassociate themselves from it?"

"They accept it as a legend and part of a family tradition, that's all," Blaise said. "And lucky for us. They'd never bring it up with the Dark Lord."

"And he'd never accept it," Harry murmured. "He's as anti-Muggle as it's possible to be."

"Exactly," Blaise said. "Which is also lucky for us, because that undiscovered myth is going to help you defeat him."

"Please tell me about your research," Harry begged.

Blaise bit her lip, swallowing hard. His eyes were wide and he might have been trying to pout. She looked into his eyes and couldn't bear to take from him whatever time he had left that wouldn't be burdened by the sacrifice she feared to ask of him. He would save the world – but she would do all she could to protect him from his end as long as she could.

"It's a fool's hope, really," she admitted, looking away. "I've done my research, but it's still a long shot."

"The research, or your plan?" Harry asked, not to be deterred.

"The plan depends on the research, but only to a point," Blaise said, rubbing her eyes again. "Please, Harry. Let me sort this out and get back to you."

"All right," he conceded. "But," he added, as Blaise opened her mouth to express surprise at his easy concede, "you can't protect me from this, Blaise." He looked stern all of a sudden. "I already have the prophecy Dumbledore told me about: 'Neither can live while the other survives.' I know my odds and I know they aren't good. I've accepted that."

"I know," she whispered, staring down at her lap. "But I won't accept the odds until I've found the best possible plan. Then we'll see."

"Okay." Blaise glanced up at him and he nodded. "I can accept that. In the meantime, though, Dumbledore has been asking me for a timetable, so the sooner you can tell me …"

"I know," Blaise repeated, shuffling some papers. "But it won't help if I mess up. Give me another week and I'll know if this is going to have a shot or not."

"One week." He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead before unfolding his legs and hopping off the table. "Do try to get some sleep tonight," he added as he left the library.

Blaise closed her eyes, the pressure of his lips still setting her skin tingling. "It's for you," she murmured after him. "I get this right for you."

)BTG(

A week later, Draco was wandering a corridor after lunch. He couldn't ever remember feeling more frustrated and stagnant than he did now. He was just wondering if bothering Blaise might be in order when he saw her coming down the corridor toward him. He raised his hand to wave –

He paused when he saw her face. Her eyes were red and dark circles rimmed them. She looked thin, ragged – like she hadn't slept in days. Her glorious dark hair, usually clean and shining, was limp and piled atop her head in a careless knot. In her hand, she clutched a roll of parchment.

"Gather the others and meet me in the kitchen, fifteen minutes," she said dully.

"Blaise, what – "

"I have our answer." She pushed passed him and as he turned, speechless, to watch her retreating back, he saw that the hand clutching the parchment was white-knuckled. Her back was hunched.

Normally, bossiness of any sort brought out the worst in Draco. He stormed, he rampaged, he made himself impossible. A deep sense of foreboding trickled down his spine as his friend disappeared down a flight of stairs. Without losing another moment, he began tracking down the others.

Weasley, Granger, and Harry were, as usual, in the library. The boys were bent forward so far that their noses nearly touched the paper. Clearly, they were feeling the weight of insanity that usually accompanied long session in the library. Granger (naturally) was sitting up straight, with a loaded quill in one hand and five more in her topknot. She had twice the number of books in front of her that the boys did and she was muttering energetically to herself as she read.

"Dream Team," Draco said, out of habit. "Urgent meeting, kitchens, ten minutes."

"What about?" Harry demanded, perking up at once.

Draco shrugged, not sure how to describe Blaise's summons or appearance. "Blaise says she has the answer, whatever that means."

"All that time she's spent here has paid off, apparently," Granger said, sounding slightly miffed that she hadn't come to a solution first.

"Don't get your knickers in a bunch," Draco said lazily, enjoying the look on Weasley's face as he sat bolt upright. Teach the git to fall asleep when he was supposed to be researching. "Ten minutes."

Draco left before Weasley could pummel him or drag him into an argument.

He wasn't sure how to find Ginny, but he was in luck and stumbled on her as she descended from Dumbledore's office.

"What were you doing up there?" he asked.

"I started going to see him sort of bi-weekly, right after Harry convinced him to let us all stay," she said. She looked haunted. "Dunno. He's brilliant, but he's old, and it occurred to me that if I want to be the decent witch I went to Hogwarts to learn how to be, I need to learn from Dumbledore." She wouldn't look at him.

"What is it?" he asked.

She took a deep breath. "Apart from the fact that he keeps bringing up that blasted prophesy – you know, 'Neither can live while the other survives' blah blah blah." She twisted her hands together and took another breath. "Five safe houses were raided yesterday. All hit and run. Everyone either dead or missing. Dark Marks appeared over all five." Draco saw her swallow, and knew instinctively what was going on in her head.

"Even if we'd been there, there's no guarantee we could have done anything," he said as forcefully as he could. "Trained wizards, Gin. At least ten full wizards and two or three Aurors assigned to each safe house, remember?"

"I know," she sighed, rubbing the crease in her forehead. "I just – " She stopped, grabbing his sleeve. "Soon, Draco. We have to move soon."

Draco suddenly remembered why he had tracked her down. "Meeting in five in the kitchens. Blaise has a plan."

Ginny's eyes widened and she fell into step with him as he turned to continue down the corridor. "Really? Just now?"

"Go on, Gin, she's been working on it for ages," he said, rolling his eyes.

"I know that, prat," she snapped. He glanced at her in surprise and she met his eyes with a look of silence apology. "What I meant is, this is kind of sudden. She just happens to have this plan?"

Draco thought back to Blaise's haggard appearance and her doomsday expression. "I'm not sure. I feel like – " he paused, glancing sidelong at Ginny. He saw the sharp look in her eye and knew she would understand. She was one of Blaise's best friends, after all. "She looked horrible when she found me," he went on. "Like she wasn't eating, hadn't slept. Whatever her plan is, she's not happy about it."

"Miserable, more like," Ginny returned, her brows knotting in worry. "I hadn't seen her since yesterday at breakfast, but I figured she was probably researching." Draco jumped as Ginny's warm hand slid into his. They didn't often touch. They both knew better – now was not the time. Ginny squeezed his hand anyway and went on, "I bet this isn't something she's just figured out. She's been researching for a while. I reckon," she said softly, her hand tightening around Draco's, "I reckon it's something bad. Whatever it is, it's something she's been trying to find an alternative for. Like, it's worst-case scenario bad, but it's the only way."

Draco swallowed. He had assumed Blaise had found something bad, but he had just assumed it would be dangerous. What if it was something horrible, like Harry having to –

Draco tried to work some moisture into his mouth. He couldn't believe that the mere idea of Harry coming to serious harm was having this affect on him. But then, two years ago, he would never have dreamt of considering Harry one of his closest friends.

Ginny released his hand and snaked an arm around his waist. "Well," she said, her voice thick, "let's not jump to conclusions." She gave him a quick squeeze before letting go, setting her face, and descended the steps ahead of him.

But as they entered the kitchens, Draco knew they were both thinking the same thing: what was worst-case scenario?

When they arrived, they saw that the others were assembled. Harry was trying to talk to Blaise and looked anxious at her worn appearance, but Blaise kept away from him, studying her scroll and replying to his entreaties in monosyllabic bursts.

She saw Draco and Ginny, and waved them to two seats. "Let's get started."

For a moment after they took their seats, she stared blankly down at her notes.

"Whatever it is, please just tell me," Harry said quietly, his eyes fixed on her downcast face.

"I was right," Blaise said, forcing the words between clenched teeth. "The Grail is the key and, as nearly as I can tell, it's the only way. There's nothing else I could find that the Dark Lord wouldn't be aware of already. This is our shot and – "

"We have to take it now," Ginny cut in, her voice rough. "Too many lives have already been – " Her voice broke. Draco wanted to reach out to her, as much to comfort himself as to comfort her, but he couldn't seem to lift his arm. His stomach was in knots. He had never, in the lifetime he had known Blaise, seen her so rattled by anything.

"We have to take it now," Blaise echoed Ginny. She cleared her throat and looked around at them all. Her eyes stopped on Harry.

"What do I have to do?"

Draco realized that Harry knew. He knew that he would bear the weight of Blaise's solution and it would be his sacrifice. He sat on the edge of his seat. His face was white, his scar and eyes blazing.

"Do we trust the elves?" Blaise asked suddenly. She motioned to the crowd of silent servants who stood motionless, watching the humans with their saucer eyes.

"Dobby says they can be trusted," Harry said dismissively.

"And Wickle and her friends know that Harry Potter will defeat the terrible lord of the darkness," one of the smaller elves said in her squeaky little voice. All the others nodded.

"Here it is, then." Blaise cleared her throat again, but kept her head up to meet their eyes. Like Harry, she was very pale. "Harry, do you trust me completely?"

Harry stared at her, clearly started. "With my life," he said quickly.

Blaise flinched. "Even if I tell you that you'll be giving yours up if you do this?"

Granger gasped, and reached out to grip Harry's arm. He caught her hand and squeezed, his eyes never leaving Blaise. "I'm willing."

"Then here it is."

She told them.

"No, Harry!" Weasley was on his feet. "Too much could go wrong. There has to be another way – "

"There isn't." Granger's eyes were brimming with tears. "Ron, I've been through every book in the library. Nothing comes close to this. The prophecy can only be fulfilled this way – otherwise, we destroy Voldemort's body and his spirit escapes. Five years, maybe ten, and he'll be back at it again. This is the only way to end it for good."

"I don't care! I won't let you, Harry," Weasley insisted, his voice rising. "Your life is worth more than this!"

"What about the lives of your family, Weasley?" Draco demanded. Didn't the prat realize this was hurting them all?

"Don't you start in my family, Malfoy!" Weasley snarled, rounding on Draco. "Just because you're willing to let Harry die so you can go on living – "

"Ron, stop!" Harry grabbed his friend by the scruff of the neck and hauled him away from Draco. Just as well. Draco had been about to hit him. Spinning Weasley to face him, Harry gripped his shoulders. "He's right. Your whole family, except Ginny, is out there right now, fighting those Death Eaters. And if we don't end this now, our kids, if any of us are lucky enough to have them, will be out there fighting the same monster someday. Because he'll keep coming back unless we do this."

"Those Death Eaters who destroyed five safe houses yesterday," Ginny put in. "They'll bide their time until their master returns. We can't let him!"

"Those Death Eaters," Harry agreed, and though he looked shaken, he went on. "Draco's right, Ron. Your family needs this war over. Our classmates need the world set right again so they can have futures. If this plan goes right, everyone gets their lives back again - permanently. To me, that's worth – "

"More than your life?" Weasley yelled. "Nothing is worth that, Harry! A kid shouldn't sacrifice his life! You've barely lived! You can't do it – you can't – you – " he was gasping for breath and suddenly, Draco saw the tears shining on his cheeks.

Harry saw them, too. In a swift gesture, he pulled his oldest friend into a hug. The only sound in the room was Weasley's heaving breath as he cried. Draco couldn't look away. He had always hated Weasley, maybe more than he'd ever hated Harry. Never, even when they had worked together on reinforcing Hogwarts' defenses, had he understood Weasley or tried to.

Unwillingly, he realized that he was seeing what Weasley and Potter were to each other. He saw the comradery. He understood, in a brief flash, how important their friendship was. It was a vital part of who they became as they grew up together. Without Harry, Draco saw, a part of Weasley was dead.

This sacrifice would be easier for Harry than for any of them.

Draco felt someone lean into him and instinctively opened his arms to Ginny. Silent tears streamed down both cheeks as she pushed her face into the crook of his neck and shook. Draco glanced at Harry and saw that he had opened one arm to Granger, whose tears were also flowing.

Love. Draco felt a burst of comprehension, the final piece of an fathomless puzzle falling into place. This is love. This is what we have that the Dark Lord doesn't. And it's all we need. It's what Harry will need, in the end.

He jumped as something wet burned his cheek. He reached his free hand up and touched his face.

A single tear smudged under his finger.

He looked up slowly, and met Blaise's eyes. They were dry, but dark with pain that was deeper than tears. Her pain was that of someone who felt she had laid a death bed before the dearest person in her life. She carried immeasurable guilt.

In a way, Blaise's sacrifice was the greatest. She would suffer the consequences for the rest of her life.

Draco tore his eyes from his friend, unable to think of a way to help and knowing their probably wasn't one. He noticed that Weasley was quiet and Granger was also staring at Blaise from the crook of Harry's arms. Harry was watching Draco.

"You with me, Malfoy?" he asked, his voice challenging.

Draco swiped ineffectually at his traitorous eyes. "I'm with you. Git."

Granger actually laughed and Ginny looked up at him with a watery smile.

"That's my archnemesis." Harry actually winked at him. Draco saw that his eyes were dry. In fact, he looked as though a weight had been lifted from him. Well, he had probably been expecting this battle his entire life as a wizard. Now he knew how, where, when, and the cost of it all. Harry was a doer – now he had something to do.

"When do we go?" Granger asked. She straightened as Weasley lifted his head from Harry's shoulder and stepped back, wiping his face on his sleeve.

"Tomorrow," Blaise said softly. "We need to break into my parents' house, into my great-grandfather's library, and according to Snape and Dumbledore's information, there's a huge gathering tomorrow night to celebrate yesterday's slaughter."

"Perfect," Weasley said, his voice hoarse. "So we waltz in and – "

"Ron." Harry met his friend's eyes with a pleading look.

Weasley took a deep breath. With another flash of unwanted insight, Draco realized the level of courage Weasley needed to accept the pain he would suffer and accept the eventual loss of his closest friend. Not only to accept such a loss, but to help instigate it.

"What supplies do we need?" he said at last. "I can speak to Lupin – "

"For now, no one knows except Dumbledore and Professor Snape," Blaise cut in sharply. "We can't risk anyone fighting us on this. Lupin probably wouldn't, but we can't risk anything going wrong. Imagine if your parents somehow found out, Weasley. How could Ginny come if that happened? How could Harry?"

Weasley opened his mouth to argue, though about Lupin's trustworthiness or his sister's accompanying them on the trip, Draco didn't know. But neither point could be argued and Weasley wasn't known for being especially quick-witted. Instead of arguing, therefore, he bent his head for a moment, swallowed audibly, and looked up at Harry.

"I can get everything we need without Lupin and stash it near one of the tunnel exits in the dungeons," he said instead.

"Dobby can help," a little voice at Draco's elbow piped up, making Draco and Ginny jump.

"We don't need much – just a pack each of the supplies on this list," Blaise said, handing the paper to Weasley. Ginny's brother moved a little to the side of the group and bent down to confer with the house elf.

"Granger, I need all your Grail research," Blaise went on. Task designation seemed the next order of business now that arguing was done. Blaise hesitated a moment before adding, "And I could use your help. You probably know more about the Dark Lord than I do, and there's one part of the plan that you'll need to see to."

Granger looked thoroughly surprised, but a pink tinge appeared in her cheeks and she ducked her head to hide a pleased smile. "Anything you need," she said to the countertop.

"Gin, Draco," she said softly. "Harry detail."

"Hey!" Harry said indignantly. Draco sniggered, remembering his argument from their meeting four weeks before.

"You need to sleep and to have some fun before we get this shindig under way," Blaise said sharply. "There's nothing for you to do that isn't being done, and you'll only be in the way if you're allowed to skulk about."

She saw the hurt expression on Harry's face and sighed. "I'm trying to take care of you. Merlin knows we're all trying to. So let us fuss."

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley," he muttered, eliciting chuckles from Weasley and Ginny.

As the chuckles fell silent, a new silence settled on the group. Draco looked around at the others.

"This is it, lads and lassies," he said into the quiet. "Let's get to it."

)BTG(

Harry couldn't remember a twenty-four-hour period going faster. He was grateful for it; grateful, too, for the constant companionship of some or all of his friends. Ginny and Draco forced a mild sleep elixir on him straight away. Several hours later, he awoke in the Gryffindor common room to the smell of tea and toast and a staunch demand from Ron that he play chess. Blaise joined them just as Ron declared the usual, "Checkmate!" She kicked Ron out, telling him Dobby needed him in the entrance hall for supply collection. As soon as Ron was safely out of the common room, she curled herself up in the crook of Harry's arm, tucked her head under his chin, and kissed his neck.

Sometime later, Ginny and Draco appeared with dinner trays and the four of them had a cozy meal, enjoying the strange feeling of comradery that they shared for reasons locked away in the Department of Mysteries. They ate and told stories of their most embarrassing moments in school.

Just as they stood to take the trays away, Ron and Hermione came through the portrait hole and made straight for their favorite couch by the fire. Harry followed, and when he glanced back at Ginny and Draco, all he saw was the portrait hole swinging shut.

"That git really is a good friend to you, isn't he?" Ron said as Harry sat down beside him.

"He is." Harry smiled at his best friend. "Not such a git anymore."

"Don't worry," Ron said easily. "He'll always be a git to me, just in case you change your mind."

"Boys," Hermione said, moving to Harry's other side and rolling her eyes at Ron.

"What does that even mean?" Ron asked Harry. "She says 'boy,' and then hangs around us all the time."

"Dunno, mate." Harry grinned at Hermione. "I'm glad she hangs around, against her better judgment."

Hermione hugged his side and for once, Ron didn't say a word. He just slugged Harry in the shoulder and settled back.

"Nice not to have homework," was his next comment.

They must have dropped off, because Harry awoke to Ron's weight and snore on his right, and Hermione's head and drool on his left shoulder.

He smiled – not a single dream tonight – and went back to sleep.

He awoke to faint light through a window and the smells of a Hogwarts' breakfast. Ginny and Blaise knelt in front of him, giggling as they held bits of toast and sausage beneath his nose.

After breakfast, Draco appeared, clutching a broom. He raised his eyebrows and nodded to the pitch. Harry went for his Firebolt and silently followed his friend.

At noon, they met the Head Master in his office for lunch. Harry was amazed and pleased that Dumbledore didn't bring up their impending departure or anything relating to the war during the meal. Instead, he told them hilarious stories of his own days as a Hogwarts student, most of which involved him breaking every one of the caretaker's rule at least once. Harry could barely eat for laughing, which was just as well, given the approaching hour.

His last day at Hogwarts was the happiest of his life.

He was ready when evening fell. One by one, he and his friends collected in the dungeons. Each shouldered a pack of supplies. Each doubled checked their wrist holsters that held their wands. Each turned to face Harry expectantly when their last preparations had been completed.

He looked around, feeling prouder than he ever had in his life and ready to face his destiny.

"Let's go."

)BTG(

Ginny kept her eyes peeled as they crossed the grounds of the Zabini estate, searching for anything physical or magical that might block them, but they got in without setting off any alarms or booby-traps.

"Someone's taken them all down," Blaise said softly as they stole through a garden, using the massive hedge trimmings as cover in case they were being watched from the house. She paused behind a hedge cut in the shape of a dragon and motioned the others to duck down.

"That's encouraging," Ron muttered, pulling out his wand. He murmured a spell, cracking his wand across his head. The Disillusionment Charm drizzled over him and in a moment, he was the same color as the hedge dragon. Harry performed the same charm, and Ginny pulled out her own wand as Blaise cast the spell on herself.

Draco was the last to cast the charm on himself. He took point and the others fell in around him. Having known the Zabinis most of his life, he was very familiar with their home. Draco crept from the cover of the ornamental garden and ran to the servant's entrance set into the side of the Zabini mansion. A quick hex shattered the badly magicked deadbolt and they crept into the small living space set aside for maids, butlers, and house elves.

It was eerily quiet.

"Here we go," Draco muttered, wand held at the ready as he moved slowly into the room. Ginny heard Harry booby-trapping the door behind them to alert them if someone else came in.

The area, however, appeared to be deserted.

"Much too easy," Ginny mumbled to herself, keeping close to Draco as he began to climb the stairs to the main part of the house.

The ground floor proved equally empty and, by the time they reached it, it was shadowed by twilight.

"See you," Draco said as they split up.

Draco began the cautious trek to the study. Ron and Harry moved to the front door to rig it as a warning if someone came through, then climbed toward the second floor. Ginny headed for the library, following Blaise.

Not a sound except their shuffling feet could be heard. Ginny's stomach was in knots, but she knew the plan. She followed her friend to a set of double doors off the entrance hall into which they had emerged. She didn't look back, but she did keep her eyes open for signs of trouble. They reached the library doors without incident. She followed Blaise inside, leaving room behind her for a short instant, before pushing the door shut.

They made for the end of the library Blaise had told Ginny about back at Hogwarts. They began pulling books off the shelves, setting them on a table behind them. Ginny swallowed, trying not to make too much noise. They were looking for something, but only Blaise knew exactly what. If Ginny thought a book looked promising, she placed it beside Blaise. They couldn't afford to miss anything; they were lucky if they had ten minutes.

They had been at it for nine when the almost-invisible form of the Disillusioned Blaise went still over a book. Slowly, she closed her eyes, then opened them and nodded to Ginny. She had clearly found part or all of what she needed. Ginny felt a rush of relief – she had been pulling all the books whose titles had "Grail" or anything related and she was now into a section about Muggle massacres that she doubted had much to do with healing. Purity, maybe, but only the sort that meant genocide.

As she waited for the signal to leave, Ginny began stuffing the books back onto the shelves. This ought, if necessary, to cover their tracks a bit. She was just putting the last of the book, "The Grail! Fact or Fantasy of a Frazzled Mind," when a loud crash and shouting echoed through the entrance hall. She turned and dashed to the door of the library, Blaise right behind her. They each pressed an ear to the wood, listening. Sure enough, the sounds were coming from the direction of the study.

Draco had been found.

Seconds later, a voice rang through the hall. In fact, it seems to penetrate the walls, echoing through the library and, Ginny suspected, other parts of the house.

"Come, come, I'm disappointed," said the voice. Six years later, and Ginny still remembered, with perfect clarity, the aristocratic drawl of Tom Riddle. She felt Blaise grip her arm, but the rest of her seemed to have gone numb.

"You don't expect me to believe that young Master Malfoy is alone?" Lord Voldemort demanded. Ginny clenched her fists, thinking of Draco out there by himself.

She was brought sharply back by another bustle.

"I found these two upstairs in one of the bedrooms, my Master." The slippery voice of Peter Petegrew carried across the entrance hall. Ginny gritted her teeth. "Just as you suspected, sir, they spread out to search the house for something."

"Really?" Voldemort sounded positively delighted, but a moment later, his voice dropped dangerously. Ginny could still hear him clearly as he murmured, "Now why send Harry Potter as a decoy …? When Severus told us you would all be here tonight, he was sure Harry would be the reason. Why allow him to be caught so easily?"

"Gracious Lord, may I speak?"

Ginny recognized Lucius Malfoy's silky tone and her heart skipped a beat. Lucius must have got the go-ahead, because he said, "Where is that Mudblood you tow about with you, Potter?"

There was another scuffle and Harry's voice snapped, "Stop it, Ron, this isn't helping." The scuffling noise quieted and Harry said, "We'd never let Hermione come with us."

"She seems to be the brains behind everything you do, Potter," Lucius said. "Forgive me if I don't take your word for it."

"Stop your posturing, Lucius!" There was a flash of blue light and a yelp.

"A thousand apologies, my lord," came a whimper a moment later.

"Now, then, Harry," Voldemort went on.

"That's Mr. Potter to you," Harry said. Ginny couldn't help a shaky smile, and heard a sharp breath beside her as Blaise covered her mouth.

"Not for long, boy." Ginny's grin dropped off her face as a heavy weight settled in her chest. She knew the madness of Tom Riddle and knew that, in spite of his genius, he was extremely unstable. "Unless you tell your girlfriend to come out – now."

"My lord," Lucius spoke again. "Forgive me, but I suspect the Mudblood is not alone."

There was a pause, and Ginny found herself holding her breath.

"Go on, Lucius."

"My deepest thanks, my Lord." A pause, then, "Though Severus had no way of knowing how many Potter would bring with him tonight, reports from last summer tell us that the field unit Potter traveled with during that time also contained Arthur Weasley – the blood traitor's – only daughter."

"Ah, yes. Ginny Weasley."

Ginny swallowed hard.

"And, forgive me, my Lord, for my speculation, but, in spite of our removing all of the wards, I doubt any of these children found their way onto Zabini grounds or into the mansion without help from someone who knew it very well," Lucius finished, his voice stronger. "The Zabini girl – the renegade. She was traveling in Potter's group last summer and Severus says they keep very close company at Hogwarts. Bellatrix also mentioned that Miss Zabini rescued Miss Weasley from her during a fight last summer."

"Libra, Octavio, can this be true?" Voldemort asked silkily, addressing (Ginny assumed) Blaise's parents.

"M-my Lord," came the trembling voice of a woman. "W-we have not spoken to our traitorous daughter in some time. She brings shame to our family – "

There was a flash of red and two shrieks as Voldemort roared, "You bring it shame by not ending her life the moment she showed disloyalty to me!"

The red light faded and Ginny could hear their rasping breaths through the door.

"Now, then," Voldemort said calmly. "Lucius may be onto something, and since I doubt young Harry will be telling us where they are hiding, I will have to resort to drastic means." Ginny's heart raced.

"Miss Zabini, Miss Granger, Miss Weasley." His voice echoed as though he were in the room with them. "You will kindly step out. Now."

Blaise and Ginny stood frozen against the door.

"Ah. I see you are cautious," Voldemort continued, his voice lowering menacingly. "I expect that ending Harry's life right now, as I should have done years ago, will entice you to be quick."

"No!"

Blaise burst through the door. It swung open into the entrance hall, revealing the Dark Lord and ten Death Eaters. Draco stood before his father, who was pressing a wand into the side of his neck. Two people knelt on the floor, smoke rising from them. Ginny assumed they were Blaise's parents. Wormtail stood behind Harry, presumably holding a wand to his back. Ron was being held by two burly Death Eaters Ginny didn't recognize. Neither Draco, nor Harry or Ron, still has their Disillusionment Charm in place or, it appeared, their wands.

"So good of you to join us," Voldemort breathed, beckoning them into the room. "Where is the Mudblood?"

"She isn't here," Blaise snapped, her steady gaze trained on Voldemort. She didn't change color or even twitch.

"Of course not," Voldemort said dangerously. "Dolohov, relieve them of their wands. If she does not appear at once, Miss Zabini – "

"If you want to become immortal, back off and listen!" Blaise cut him off.

"Blaise, no!" Ginny breathed.

"Immortal, Miss Zabini?" Voldemort raised a hand, and the Death Eater advancing on Blaise stopped.

"Tales, my Lord!" cried Blaise's mother from the floor. She was struggling to push herself to her feet. "Silly children's stories. Family relics. You need not – "

A jet of green magic shot from Voldemort's wand and Mrs. Zabini dropped like a rock. Blaise didn't even look at her.

"If these are tales, as your late mother tells me, you'll be very sorry indeed, Miss Zabini," he resumed.

"Not tales," Blaise said firmly. Ginny saw that her knuckles were white as they clutched her Caduceus. "Why would we break into this house over children's tales? I've been researching this since I left Hogwarts. What I found is so powerful that even Grindelwald was interested."

Voldemort was rubbing his chin. "An outdated wizard."

"Not to be compared with yourself, of course." Blaise crossed her arms.

"Do not try my patience," Voldemort hissed, his eyes narrowing to red slits. He flicked his wand and a sound like a whip cracked through the room. Ginny saw Blaise flinch as her cheek split open and dribbled blood onto the floor at her feet. Harry, trembling, was now being forcibly restrained by Wormtail and another Death Eater.

"Don't try mine," Blaise returned with surprising coolness. "You need me and you need me alive. In order to get me, my friends go unharmed. You need me to give what I have to offer willingly or it won't work."

"I'm listening." Ginny was amazed that he didn't cut Blaise down where she stood.

"The Holy Grail," Blaise said quietly, "is a vessel filled with the blood of Jesus Christ, a man so powerful that his blood ran with liquid magic. When he died a martyr, his uncle collected his blood in a chalice, or so the story is told by Muggles." She swiped at the blood on her cheek. "The story is wrong. Jesus had a wife and through her, he bore children. Those children bore the same liquid magic in their veins – they are the vessels. Rare generations even have witches whose blood is so potent that, if willingly given, it will grant immortality."

"And you just happen to belong to one of those rare generations?" Voldemort said, his voice short of a sneer.

"I am the only female, full-blooded Zabini of this generation," Blaise assured him. "Therefore, I'm the only one with potent blood. Don't ask me to prove it – I can't. But I bare the Caduceus of the Chosen women, my eyes are purple like the Chosen women's. My brothers don't have eyes like mine," she assured him, gesturing carelessly at two of the hooded Death Eaters, one of whom was guarding Ginny. "Neither do either of my parents or my grandparents."

"Let us suppose, for the moment, I believe all this," Voldemort said. "I would be willing to accept immortality from a Zabini – you are Pureblooded and your contribution to my eternal life would go a long way toward restoring your family."

"Their restoration can come or go," Blaise said dismissively. "All I care about are my friends. My blood must be given willingly for the magic to be effective. The second I stop being willing, the magic turns to poison." Blaise waved her Caduceus toward the library, and the book she and Ginny had found flew into her outstretched hand. "Page 395 – go on, if you like. Says it all right there."

Voldemort gestured and Blaise's father stepped forward, taking the book without looking at his daughter and flipping to the page. He read it carefully.

"According to this record, she speaks the truth," he said grudgingly. "In order for the spell to work, she must be willing and conscious to oversee its transference. Otherwise, her blood poisons the drinker."

Ginny stared from Blaise to Mr. Zabini, crossing her fingers inside her long sleeve.

"Blaise, no! You can't give him this!" Harry shouted, throwing himself against his captors.

Blaise tossed him an apologetic look. "Sorry, Harry. I know this wasn't part of the plan." Then she looked Voldemort in the eye. "Do we have a deal?"

Voldemort watched her closely, then turned his eyes on Harry, who glared murderously back.

"Prepare to release the other hostages," he said coolly. "Take them to the main entrance and let them go at my command only." He paused, a twisted smile on his lips as he raised his wand. "All but Potter." He gave Blaise what Ginny supposed was a warning look. "I will not let Potter free."

"You get Harry on the condition that you agree to face him in combat, not just curse him the second you're immortal," Blaise insisted. "He deserves a chance. I hear the last time you fought him, he was still a kid. Give him a chance as a full wizard."

"Little difference it makes, but have it as you wish," Voldemort said dismissively. "Potter will die tonight by my hand, one way or another. Take the others to the entrance."

"Keep them where I can see them," Blaise ordered. "I don't trust any of you." A moment later, two whiplashes snapped at her face and two more gashes appeared beside the first. She gasped, but kept her head up as blood trickled down her cheeks.

"Have a care, Miss Zabini," Voldemort murmured. "They are my servants."

"And those are your only bits of leverage," Blaise retorted, indicating her friends. Draco was straining against his captors' arms, and Ron looked ready to start himself.

"You're not fighting without us, Harry!" he called.

"Miss Zabini stipulated that you all were to be unharmed, Mr. Weasley," Voldemort said softly. "That means, no helping little Harry."

Ron snarled and started straining against his captors as well.

"Call them off, Zabini, or your blood or no, they will die here," Voldemort warned.

Blaise took a deep breath. Ginny could see her face draining of color.

"Enough, both of you," she said, her deep voice firm. "You take Ginny, and get out of here."

Draco and Ron both looked at Ginny, whose wand was being pulled from her hand by Dolohov. Draco stopped struggling, a pained expression on his face. Ron looked conflicted.

"Weasley, you'll do no one any good if you're dead," Draco snapped. "Stop it."

Ron relaxed a bit, though Ginny could tell that every muscle was tense.

"I see you have your mutts well trained," Voldemort said with a curled lip. "Crabbe, Zabini – prepare to release them on my command."

"Our wands – " Ron began.

"Will remain with us, thank you," Voldemort said thinly. Ron closed his mouth, white-lipped.

"Now, then, Miss Zabini," the Dark Lord resumed, returning his attention to her. "You will explain the entire procedure in detail."

"It's simple," Blaise told him, rolling up her sleeve. "You drink my blood directly from my veins. Enough blood and you become immortal."

"How much is enough?" he asked, watching her closely.

Blaise swallowed visibly. "I don't know." She paused. "The power of my blood won't fully coalesce until I'm forty." Ginny saw her jaw clench. Then she finished, "I expect you'll need most of it."

"No, Blaise, you can't!" Ginny cried.

"There must be another way – !" Harry began, even as Draco shouted, "He isn't worth that, Zabini!" And Ron chimed in, "You're not helping us if we have to carry you out, you know!"

"Shut up, all of you!" Blaise bellowed, and her voice seemed to fill the whole room. Ginny felt tears on her cheeks. "I've made my choice. Carry on without me – get out of here and get to a safe house."

They all knew that Voldemort had no intention of releasing them once he had Blaise's blood. They gritted their teeth.

"Very well," Voldemort said, stepping toward Blaise. He glared around at his Death Eaters. "Do not let anyone – anyone – interfere."

"My lord," they all said with deep bows before turning their full attention on their charges, double-checking for hidden wands or weapons.

"Let us begin, Miss Zabini," Voldemort said, stepping in front of her.

Blaise slowly raised her Caduceus and put it to her wrist. With a muttered spell, she split it open. She held it up to the Dark Lord. "Drink now," she ordered.

Voldemort put his almost lipless mouth to her wrist and Ginny nearly retched as she saw his throat spasm with the first swallow.

This was it, she realized, and more tears flooded her eyes. Minutes passed. Voldemort drank greedily from Blaise's right wrist. Blaise was white, the dark circles under her eyes stark against her pallid face. Somehow she was still on her feet and suddenly, Ginny saw Blaise's left hand extend slowly to the side.

What happened next happened so fast that no one saw how it happened.

Wormtail and the other Death Eater guarding Harry pitched forward without a sound. Before anyone else could move, Harry leapt forward, dropping to his knees and pressing his mouth to Blaise's left wrist. A moment later, a voice shouted, "Circumfero!"

)BTG(

Harry heard the unmistakable sound of Hermione shouting, "Circumfero!" from under the invisibility cloak as his mouth closed on Blaise's wrist. Fighting every instinct he had that told him this was wrong, he swallowed a mouthful of Blaise's blood.

Suddenly, his veins were on fire. His blood seared as it coursed through him. He wanted to pull his mouth away, to scream with the agony of it, but he couldn't move. Something held him there.

And then the burn was gone, replaced by the feeling that his blood had turned to cement. It didn't seem to want to move and even as he took another involuntary swallow from Blaise's arm, he felt something alien slithering through him. Whatever it was, it was crawling all over his insides, trying to find a place to put itself –

And he was falling away from Blaise, clutching his head as that alien something raced toward it, passing his heart and scrabbling up his throat.

"Fight it, Harry!" a voice cried. He didn't know what to do – all he knew was that he loved that voice. He remembered it as one he had loved for a long time, one that made him think often of his mother. This voice cared for him; loved him, too.

"Come on, Potter, you have to fight it!" another voice joined in. "Lock it away. Use the power she gave you!"

Power? What power? He recognized this voice, too. This voice cared about him very much.

"Harry, mate, lock him away! Please," a third voice cut in. Harry thought he heard a choke in this voice. "Please, mate," it begged. Harry heard the love in it. "How are you supposed to be my best man if you're – if you can't – "

"Find the power she gave you, Harry," a fourth voice urged gently. "Blaise gave you the power. You have to use it!"

Harry suddenly remembered the agonizing fire, even as he felt the alien thing touch the edge of his mind. No! he thought. He had to rekindle the fire, but how? His blood felt so heavy now.

"Love, Harry!" the motherly voice from before cried. "Remember that we all love you!"

"We love, Harry!" said the other voices together. "We love you, we love you – !"

The fire suddenly blazed up, powering through his entire body. He didn't know how he pointed it toward the alien thing, but he did. It scrabbled at his throat, sank into his chest for a moment, before the fire overwhelmed it, wrapping around it. Harry felt a distant sort of ache, but he also felt the words of those people. They loved him.

Suddenly, he knew just what to do. He reached out to the alien thing and turned it until it faced his heart. Then he showed it. He showed it all of the people he loved and all of the people who loved him. It gave a wail and tried to move away, but Harry and his new fire blood held it fast. Then Harry moved it toward and into his heart. Here was a place where it couldn't do any more harm to anyone. It couldn't even begin to comprehend what lay here. It didn't want to. Here was a place it would never escape.

Harry pressed the thing into his heart. It moaned and stormed and raged, but Harry felt his heart swallow it, ingest it, forcing it to see all the love that Harry had, understood, and returned. These concepts were so far beyond its comprehension that it shrank in on itself and huddled there against the walls of its throbbing prison.

As though a gate closed, Harry felt his heart lock the alien thing in, even as he felt himself losing consciousness.

It's okay, the blood-fire seemed to say. We'll take it from here.

Oh, good, Harry thought, before everything went black.

)BTG(

Blaise's eyes opened slowly. Everything was blurry at first.

"Where – ?" she tried, before choking on the cotton that seemed to fill her throat. She coughed.

"Drink this," a voice said softly. A cup was pressed to her lips and she drank. She felt the liquid dissolve the cotton. It also seemed to clear her vision.

"Gave us a right scare, you did," Draco said. He was seated on the bed to her left.

"That you did," said another voice. Blaise opened her eyes as Mrs. Weasley bustled in. "How are you feeling, dear?"

"I – " Blaise blinked. She felt strangely heavy, as though she weighed about a stone. She didn't hurt exactly, but she was certainly spent.

"Madam Pomphrey had to force your body to produce a lot of new blood very quickly." Mrs. Weasley smoothed the hair of Ginny, who was sitting on the right side of Blaise's bed. "In addition to the help of the blood of a few other people."

Blaise looked at Ginny, who shrugged and held up an arm. The crook of her elbow held a thin cut.

"Madam P needed more than a restorative potion, you see," she said. "Draco and I both had plenty to spare, and we were there anyway, so …"

"Th-thank you," Blaise said, blinking around at her friends. Draco shrugged, giving her hand a squeeze. Blaise noticed the thin cut on the inside of his arm and then noticed the bandages that bound both her own wrists.

"Those scars should heal in time," Mrs. Weasley said, reaching passed Ginny to lift one of Blaise's bound wrists. She unwrapped the bandage to show Blaise. The skin of her wrist was almost smooth, except a faint red line that squiggled around her largest veins. Mrs. Weasley tapped the wrist with her wand before rewrapping Blaise's wrist. "The ones on your face are totally gone. Healed within the first week."

"Where are we?" Blaise asked, feeling her face and remembering how the cuts had got there. She suddenly felt rather lost.

"You're in the Burrow," Mrs. Weasley said kindly. "You were in the hospital wing at Hogwarts for a week and a half. When Poppy said she expected you to wake up within a few days, I suggested we move you here. It's more homey."

"Thank you," was all Blaise could manage. A week and a half?

"You must be tired, dear." Mrs. Weasley hesitated, then reached out to stroked Blaise's tangled hair. Her eyes were suddenly full of tears. "We'll talk more later. So many people want to see you – you saved us all." She leaned down and kissed Blaise's forehead. Blaise closed her eyes, imagining for a moment that the woman really was her mum. Then the warmth was gone and Mrs. Weasley bustled out, saying, "You two are not to bother her. Let her go back to sleep."

"Yes, Mum," said two sulky voices, and Blaise opened her eyes to see Ginny and Draco looking affronted. She felt her lips crack a bit as she smiled.

"Just because we haven't left your side since they brought you back to Hogwarts – "

" – taking our meals in the hospital wing and everything – "

" – had to, didn't we? We were recovering, too."

They both grinned at Blaise. She stared at them, her mouth flopping about at loose ends.

"What? Blaise Zabini without a word to say for herself?" Draco covered his mouth in mock-horror.

"Oh, stop." Ginny gripped Blaise's right hand. Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed Blaise's cheek. "We'll let you sleep. When you're more yourself, we'll talk."

She climbed off the bed and motioned to Draco. "Come on, Mal-ferret. Let's go bother other invalids."

"Hey! What did you call me, Weasel?" Draco kissed Blaise's left hand before following Ginny to the door. "Fine, we can go bother other people, but only if I can taunt your brother mercilessly."

"We'll see." Ginny turned back to Blaise. "Sleep tight, okay? We won't be gone long."

Blaise already felt her exhausted mind sinking under the pressure of so much change. Then something slid into her conscious and she tried to sit up. "Where's Harry? Is he – "

Ginny smiled slightly, but the expression was strained. "He's in the next room. Go to sleep, Blaise. You'll see him soon."

Blaise was going to demand that she see him now, but her eyelids drooped and suddenly, she was asleep.

When she awoke again, Madam Pomphrey was at her bedside.

"What're you doing here?" Blaise demanded thickly, trying to clear her fuzzy mind. "Aren't we at the Burrow?"

"I'm one of the Order's most trusted healers and one of the only ones who makes house calls," Madam Pomphrey said briskly. She waved her wand and a series of unintelligible numbers and symbols appeared above Blaise's bed. She glanced down at Blaise. "And I'm honored to do so for its heroes."

"Hero?" Blaise repeated woodenly. "Me?"

"I'm sure you'll hear all about it from your friends when you're feeling a bit better," Madam Pomphrey said, clearing the numbers and checking Blaise's wrists. "You won't need these bandages anymore."

Blaise looked down at her wrists. There wasn't a mark on either of them.

"Had you had more of your own blood in you, I've no doubt you would have healed those cuts within hours," Madam Pomphrey said. "But since you had to make do with Miss Weasley and Mr. Malfoy's blood while your body regenerated its own supply, healing took longer."

That made sense. Blaise hadn't ever taken this long to heal, but if she had lost most of her magical blood, the process would have taken much longer.

"Are Ginny and Draco around?" Blaise asked, accepting a goblet of potion from the healer.

"Next door, with Mr. Potter." Madam Pomphrey picked up a small bag from a chair beside Blaise's bed. "I'm going to let Molly oversee the rest of your healing, Miss Zabini. She's an excellent nurse and you're well on your way to perfect health."

"What about Harry?" Blaise demanded.

Unlike Ginny, Madam Pomphrey didn't force a smile. She looked Blaise very seriously in the eye and said, "As well as can be expected."

"Knock knock?"

Blaise glanced up as Ginny poked her head around the door. Her friend smiled and was followed into the room by Draco.

"You're well cared-for here, Miss Zabini," the Madam Pomphrey said with a smile, gathering up her things and leaving before Blaise could thank her.

Draco leaned against the nearest bedpost and smiling his crooked smile. "Lookin' good, Zabini," he said.

"Course she does," Ginny said, climbing over the baseboard and seating herself at the end of the bed. "All right, Blaise?"

"Better," she said carefully. "Someone mind telling me about Harry? Or about what happened? Or about why Madam P. was prattling on about heroes and rubbish?"

Ginny and Draco looked at each other.

"Everything?" Ginny asked, turning back to Blaise.

"Everything. With knobs," she ordered.

"Okay, but Harry should be here, too."

"What, is he well enough?" she said in surprise.

"Oh, sure." Draco didn't look at her. "I'll go fetch him. Lazy arse's been in bed all week."

Draco left and Blaise raised her eyebrows at Ginny.

"I'll make this quick," the redhead said. "The spell worked, Harry is dying."

Blaise felt numb. "How long does he have?"

"Since there's no known record of anything like this actually working, we don't know. Madam Pomphrey's done her best, with potions and so on. Dumbledore doesn't think word should get round about – about what Harry's done or about what you are – so she's the only healer who's been allowed to treat you or Harry." Ginny twisted a lock of hair around her find, her face pinched. "A week. Ten years. Fifty. Who knows? We were hoping that, given your connection to him now, you could tell us."

Footsteps could be heard outside and a moment later, Draco entered with Harry leaning on his shoulder. Blaise couldn't move. She just stared.

He looked as though nothing at all had happened to him. He looked – fine.

Suddenly, he was moving. He pushed passed Ginny and Draco, collapsing onto the bed beside Blaise. He took her face in shaking hands and kissed her. Blaise felt her arms go around him and the numbness left her in a burst of tears. She pulled him against her and held on tight.

"Oy, get a room." Draco's grouchy voice penetrated the foggy place in Blaise's scull where her brain had once been.

Ginny's giggle followed. "They've got a room. Git."

Harry pulled back from Blaise, grinning shakily. He caught one of her tears on his thumb, brushing it away. "Hey."

"Hey." She grinned back, wiping carelessly at the rest of them.

"Potter, let the woman breathe while we tell you ungrateful gits about how we saved your lives," Draco said impatiently.

"Jealous much, Malfoy?" But Harry crawled carefully over Blaise and settled himself beside her. She leaned into him and he put his arm around her.

"Don't flatter yourself." Draco made himself comfortable beside Ginny at the end of the bed. For a long moment, they all sat quietly, watching each other.

"Well?" Blaise said at last. "Sometime before I'm ninety."

"Where to start …" Ginny tapped her chin. "What do you remember?"

"Just Harry getting to me and then I blacked out," Blaise said.

"I'm sorry, but I'm still not sure I entirely understand what happened," Ginny said, pulling her knees to her chest.

"I don't, either, I just kind of made it up as I went," Blaise mumbled. Harry's arm tightened around her shoulders.

"Stop," he ordered. "Blaming yourself is stupid. You did what you had to and so did I."

"So what did you both do?" Ginny asked.

"Basically, it was a theory I'd had," Blaise said. "It was a long shot. We all knew Voldemort would be drawn to the idea of immortality, just as Grindelwald had been." Blaise shook her head. "That didn't seem right to me. So during my research, both Granger and I looked through Muggle texts, trying to figure out why a man like Jesus, who was secure in his own mortality, would want to grant eternal life – in a literal, earth-bound sense, anyway."

"So when we broke into your parents' place, one of the things you were trying to figure out was if the Grail did grant immortality?" Harry said.

"By the time I finished my research at Hogwarts, I was sure it didn't, actually," Blaise said quietly. "One of the things I did look for in my great-grandfather's library was that page I showed Voldemort. It confirmed that the Grail had to be willing in order to transfer magic. I was willing and if Harry hadn't got to me while I was still even a little conscious, the transfer wouldn't have worked and Voldemort would have been poisoned."

"And then he'd have died, thus releasing his soul again," Draco finished. "And once again, he could find a host body, etc., etc."

"Yup." Blaise shrugged. "Killing him wasn't the solution, so we used careful timing. It was all we had, and it worked."

"Okay I get that. So how did the whole soul transfer work?" Ginny asked, leaning forward. Blaise noticed with a small smile that she was gripping Draco's arm.

"Contest of wills, really," Blaise said. "Like I said, we needed an alternative to death. The idea was to trap the Dark Lord's soul within Harry's. A soul as broken as the Dark Lord's could never escape one as pure as Harry's. But we needed a way to drawl the Dark Lord's soul out of him and into Harry. Granger's spell, Circumferowas a purification spell listed in one of the books in the restricted section of the Hogwarts library. It was said to enhance the affects of powerful magical substances. We both figured it would help me – the Grail, if you will – by basically enhancing my ability to control the natural affects of my blood. Once I fell unconscious, stopped being willing, there needed to be something there continuing to affect the transfer."

"So when Harry started to drink – " Ginny began. Blaise felt Harry stiffen beside her.

"The Grail – I, or rather, my unconscious Grail self – could keep on giving non-poisonous. I could also find a solution to the impurity of the Dark Lord's soul. In other words, the magic in my blood was looking for a way to heal his disgusting monster of a soul. With the help of Granger's well-timed charm, my blood was about five times as potent and wasn't limited by my consent. I went unconscious; the transfer continued."

"And when I die, I'll take him with me." He glanced sideways at Blaise. "Right?"

Blaise swallowed hard, but nodded. "Right. Your soul is holding his captive. I think it's like a captain going down with his ship. When – when you die, so does your soul. So your soul won't let his escape when you die or possess you while you live. It will take his with you and control it until that time. Thus, we find a way around the Dark Lord's soul making a run for it when the body it's in dies."

"So ends Tom Riddle," Harry murmured, with an almost savage look of pleasure in his eye.

"The catch?" Ginny asked tremulously.

Harry sighed, but didn't look upset or even sad to Blaise. "Blaise's magical blood will continue to circulate through my bloodstream for the rest of my life, but because it doesn't belong in my body, it will eventually get older, staler. As it does, it will begin to affect my body in its other capacity: as a poison. As its magical qualities degenerate, it will slowly kill me."

"We'll be working on contingencies to slow the effects, though," Blaise said quickly. "Madam Pomphrey and I are going to try combining my blood with Restorative Potions and the like. We're sure to find something to slow the effects."

"The important thing," Harry cut in, "is that no matter how weak my body is, my soul will always be stronger and more whole than Voldemort's. His soul is bound to mine. When my soul dies, so does his."

They all lay in silence.

"I know this probably sounds stupid," Harry said after a while. "But – I'm just so glad to be alive right now. And I really do feel fine. Please don't feel badly, you lot. I've got time and for the first time in my life, I'm really free!""

They all looked at him. Blaise, closest to him, realized how healthy he looked. Whatever it would eventually do to him, the huge amount of magical blood Blaise had passed him had given Harry an incredible, if temporary, strength.

"I'm sort of amazed the rest of the plan worked," Ginny said. Blaise suspected her friend was trying to change the subject and she was deeply grateful. "I really thought Voldemort would figure out that Hermione was there."

"He knew she was there," Harry reminded her. "He just didn't see her as a threat. His loss."

Blaise chuckled, the knot of tension in her chest relaxing a bit. "I'll never underestimate Granger again, that's for sure."

"I'm just amazed we had enough time to get in and find what we needed," Ginny said. "I mean, they were expecting us, especially since we had Snape plant those hints that Harry Potter would be at the Zabini estate the night of the Death Eater celebration."

"I know." Draco rubbed his chin. "I wonder why they weren't waiting for us."

"Probably wanted to see what we were after," Blaise said. "As far as the Dark Lord knew, there was nothing special there. So why would Harry Potter want to go there? What was he after?"

"That makes sense," Ginny said. "He wanted us to lead him to whatever we were looking for, so he'd know if we knew something he didn't."

"He sort of called us out early," Draco said. "I guess maybe when they caught me they wanted to see where the rest of you would come from. I mean, he probably knew something was up when Blaise came out of the library. That would be the place to hunt for important information. Or the study." He paused, glancing at Harry. "What the devil were you and Weasley doing in a bedroom?"

"Well, there's not a lot upstairs, is there?" Harry defended. "We'd gone through all the other rooms and the loos and the closets."

"Tell me something: how did we get away from all those Death Eaters?" Blaise wanted to know.

"Well, right as you went unconscious, about twenty members of the Order of the Phoenix came bursting through the front door," Ginny said. "When I spoke to Dumbledore a final time before we left Hogwarts, I asked him to get as many members as he could to the Zabini mansion an hour after we left. I'm glad I guessed we'd need so much time. We couldn't have them bursting in before the transference began."

"Lucky guess, indeed," Harry murmured.

"They cleaned everything up so we could help you sort out the Dark Lord," Draco explained. "That was us around you, talking rubbish about love and so on."

"That wasn't rubbish, and I have another question," Ginny cut in. "What about Harry and Ron's booby traps on the two entrances? I didn't hear either of them go off."

"Either Voldemort found another entrance or disarmed the charms," Harry said with a shrug. "I didn't really expect him to fall for them. They was for show, anyway – so he'd think we were trying not to be found."

"Along with the Disillusionment Charms."

"Right." Blaise grinned. "I have to say, by the way, all your yelling about how I 'shouldn't do this' was really inspired."

"I was scared out of my mind," Ginny confessed. "It really helped to yell a bit."

"I was worried Weasley was going to blow it all, with his worry over Harry having to duel the Dark Lord," Blaise said.

"That's why I was making a show of calming us both down," Draco snorted.

"Go on; Ron wouldn't have mucked it up," Harry insisted. "I've been through this sort of thing with him loads of times. I always want him at my back."

"Thanks, mate." They all looked round to see Weasley and Granger in the doorway.

"I know you're all discussing important stuff right now," Granger said delicately.

"But knock it off, it's dinner," Weasley said. "Mum wants everyone to eat in the dining room tonight."

"If you're up for it, Zabini," Granger said, with an impressively mischievous smile.

"Don't try to bait me, Granger," Blaise advised. "But, yeah, I think I'm up for it."

Blaise pushed the covers off, realizing too late that she was dressed in pinstriped cuddly pajamas.

Draco smirked. "Cute, Blaise."

"I think so." Harry pulled her to her feet, before tucking his arm around her to support her weak legs.

Blaise felt her ears go red and glared at Draco, who was poorly covering a bark of laughter with a hand. She felt a flash of something – memory, maybe?

The only man who can make me blush, she thought, shaking her head. "Come on," she ordered. "I haven't eaten in two weeks – I'm hungry!"

)BTG(

Ginny sat on the porch steps, gazing out at the last blazing lights of the sun. It was strange to look at the vivid colors that covered the woods and grassy hills around the Burrow, and not wonder if it was all about to end.

He's gone, she thought vaguely, trying to remember a time when You-Know-Who – He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Tom Ridde, Lord Voldemort – hadn't been in her life. Her earliest memories were connected with him. She had once been possessed by him, or a piece of him. For one, horrific year, he had been her entire world.

And now he was no more.

"Come here often?"

Ginny smiled, turning to look back at the house. Draco Malfoy was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"Now and then." Ginny patted the step beside her.

"Do you often spend your time staring dreamily into the sunset?" Draco took a seat beside her, staring at the cascade of luminous color. His nose wrinkled. "Y'know, I just don't see what all the fuss is about."

Ginny giggled, looking sideways at him. "You wouldn't. Prat."

"I have quite an artistic eye, you know," he countered.

"Do you?" Ginny grinned.

"Too right. For instance, now my father's been locked up in Azkaban with all his Death Eater friends, I'm tearing his ugly-as-arse mansion down."

"Where will you live?" Ginny bit her lip.

"Build my own place, obviously," he said. "Something ridiculously chic and elegant. Society will swarm around me. I'm a hero, you know."

"Yes, I read about it," Ginny returned, rolling her eyes. "Bloody Prophet. Always playing up the drama. They don't even know what happened."

"Who cares what they know?" Draco said sharply. "We know and devil take everyone else."

Ginny shook her head, eyes returning to the sunset. "I can't believe it's over." She looked back at him and felt her breath catch. His profile was outlined in the setting sun, almost gone behind the distant hills. He had never looked so beautiful.

She cleared her throat. "What do we do now?"

Draco turned, pinning her with his eyes. "This."

He wrapped his long, cool fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her mouth to his. She smiled – she knew this feeling, and it was good. Warm and soft and, contrary to Draco himself, totally submissive. She could do whatever she wanted with this kiss – they had all the time in the world.

After a while, Ginny pulled back, licking her lips. "That's good," was all she could say. She looked up into his eyes. "What do we do with that?"

Draco bit his lip, looked down, took her hand. "That ridiculously chic and elegant something I'm going to build – let me build it for you. Then come and live in it and make it beautiful."

Ginny's throat caught. Her eyes filled. "You mean it?"

"Well, I don't mean, like, tomorrow," Draco muttered, his cheeks pink. "But – well, you once said you wanted to be a healer. And Harry's going to need you to do that – he needs someone he trusts who knows what's really wrong with him." Draco cleared his own throat and went on briskly, "I don't reckon Blaise wants to do it – she's got natural gifts, but doesn't take to it like you do – but she'd do it if you don't. Now the war's over, you have the time. I have a lot to do getting my parents' estate sorted – lot of dark magic in there to deal with. Things to auction. I mean, that'll take time. I don't know when it'll be done – "

"I'll help you," Ginny said softly, running a hand over his cheek.

"That's good," Draco murmured, kissing her fingers as they passed his lips. "Because it's going to be your estate, too."

Tears spilled from Ginny's eyes. "I know." She rested her forehead against his.

)BTG(

Harry grinned through the window at his friends. A pair of arms slid around his waist.

"Bout time."

"For a lot of things," Blaise agreed. Mischievously, she leaned around Harry and tapped the glass. The blonde and redhead broke apart, saw Blaise and Harry pointing and laughing, and both went very red. Draco offered them a rude gesture.

Blaise pulled the door opened. "You big baby," she said to Draco, pulling Harry along behind her.

Harry laughed – he couldn't remember ever feeling this good.

"Well?" he said to Ginny, easing himself down beside her.

"Well, what?" Ginny said, grinning a face-splitting grin at him and not bothering to wipe the tears off her rosy cheeks.

"Got the future all sorted, have you?" Blaise asked, seating herself on Draco's other side.

"A bit," Draco said. "Ginny's got to go to uni, you know." He glanced at Harry. "Going to become a healer, she is."

Harry smiled at her. "That's fantastic!" he said, giving her shoulders a squeeze.

"Well, someone's got to keep an eye on wizards who know how to avoid normal healers," Ginny said quietly, and Harry saw the pain well-hidden behind her eyes. "You can't avoid me, can you?"

Harry gave her a proper hug. "I wouldn't dare."

"What about you, Blaise?" Draco asked pointedly, clearly trying to change the subject. Harry didn't mind – he didn't like his friends being unhappy on his account.

"Are you kidding?" Blaise said. Harry saw her shoulders relax. "I'm a bloody war hero! I can do whatever I want. I'm going to play professional Quidditch."

Everyone stared at her. "You are?" Harry said in amazement.

"I was being scouted by the Holyhead Harpies before we left Hogwarts," she retorted. "Anyway, they're bound to take me, even if I turn out to be rubbish. I'm great publicity for the team. Hero, you know. I may have mentioned it before."

"You're not rubbish!" Ginny exclaimed. "I've seen you fly – you'll be great! I bet Puddlemere would have a look at you, too."

"What about you, Draco?" Blaise said, ducking her head with a smile at the compliment.

"Well, someone has to be a rich, stay-at-home kind of bloke who does charitable things and has massive family gatherings," he pointed out. "Don't you think I'd be a fantastic wealthy heir?"

"Stellar." Blaise rolled her eyes at Ginny, who giggled. "You'll make a great stay-at-home dad, too."

Ginny and Draco both sputtered.

"Doesn't anyone want to know what I want to do?" Harry couldn't help asking. He hated to bring up a painful subject, but since they were planning their futures …

Blaise was the first to look him in the eye. "What do you want to do?" she asked.

The other two turned to look at him as well. Harry admired them all – this was an act of bravery and none of them had backed down. He heard a cough from the doorway and saw Ron and Hermione standing there, watching him as well. They both looked a bit guilty for eavesdropping, but both met his eyes evenly.

"I have no idea," he told them all, with a grin that he was glad to see was infectious. "But whatever it is, I can't wait."

)BTG(

Fin