She had barely taken her coat off, back at the Leaky Cauldron, before Maude grabbed her and dragged her into the kitchen.

"Malfoy's been asking after you," she muttered. "Sorry to throw you to the wolf, but the sooner he's out of here, the sooner we can go back to normal." And she shoved the redhead through the kitchen and into the dining room. Ginny grumbled under her breath at being manhandled, gave a half-hearted glare at Maude, and straightened herself out. With a high head, she turned to look for Malfoy.

He was slouched at the bar, swirling a glass of white wine. Ginny frowned. He didn't look very good. She tried to muster up some ill-will toward him, but he looked so sick she found it hard to do. With a huff she walked over.

"Mr. Malfoy," she greeted him. He looked even worse up close. He had dark marks under his eyes, and his skin was a sickly yellow colour. He had wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. He gave her a wry half-smile as he returned her greeting.

"Ms. Weasley. I was wondering if I might have a private word with you." He stood, but held onto the bar for a moment to gain his balance. With a frown, Ginny nodded. She turned to lead the way to one of the meeting rooms in the back. She walked slowly, but even before the hallway he was falling behind. Ginny waited for him at the hallway entrance and took his protesting elbow to guide him. He mustered up a glare, but it was as weak as the rest of him.

Once in a room, she sat him in an armchair and settled herself opposite him.

"Go ahead," she said.

Malfoy gave her another half-smile. "I realise that I've given you no reason to like me." Ginny snorted. He continued after raising an eyebrow at her. "But I am here to ask you for your services.

"I am not well. I think perhaps you have noticed. This is a result of a charm which is interwoven into the Malfoy bloodline. Several generations back, my ancestors were worried at the number of squibs being born into other Wizarding families. So they sought out some way to be certain that all their offspring would be magical. They created – or found, the history is not very precise – a pair of rings which would do just this." Ginny could feel her stomach sinking as she made a guess at where this story was going. Malfoy didn't notice. "I was three, when my parents told me of these rings." He gave her a small sad smile, telling her to bear with him. "Pansy and I had been playing in the garden, pretending to get married. Her parents thought it was cute. My parents took me aside and yelled at me – once the Parkinsons were gone. Being a Malfoy, they told me, brings with it certain responsibilities.

"A Malfoy must be celibate until his wedding day, my father told me. When I had decided whom I wished to be tied to for the rest of my life, then I could marry her: until that time, I was to behave myself. The fidelity charms woven into this pair of rings was so solidly tied into our blood that most Mafoys never actually wore them, yet the magic applied anyway. There were to be no mistresses, no experimentation. To keep our line pure, we were to be faithful."

Malfoy paused, turned to gaze at the painting on the wall. "I am sorry. This is a long tale. Many months back, the Malfoy Estate was broken into. The only items taken were these rings. Then you broke in and stole the Paradise Pearls. No, no, don't look at me like that. I don't care about them. They brought me power, but there is always a price to be paid for the power they bring." He raised a hand. It shook alarmingly. "I am paying my price, it seems. Such is the power of these rings, that when they are worn and the marriage is not consummated, there is a price to pay. When wearing the rings this price is minimal: a slight lessening of strength, and less magical power. But when one does not wear the ring… The price is higher." Malfoy slumped back into his chair.

"I know you stole the Pearls. I don't care. But, please, find who stole these rings. If I continue without this ring, I will die. I would prefer not to die so soon. And," he added with a small smile, "I would appreciate knowing to whom I am now 'married'."

Ginny frowned at him, trying to make some sense in her head of what Malfoy knew and what he did not. "How did you know I stole the Pearls?" she asked, more for a delaying tactic than for any other reason.

Malfoy waved a hand. "Seeker tracked the traces to here. You were evasive, and Seeker suspected you. That was enough for me. And your quick elevation to manager… well, that confirmed it. You have done well with the place," he added.

Ginny nodded her head at the compliment. "I will do what I can for you," she finally decided.

"I will pay you whatever…"

"I don't want your money," Ginny cut in over him, angrily. "I'll help you, but I don't want your money. Why did you wait so long to speak to me?"

Malfoy – looking baffled – replied, "I was going to speak to you once I had finished my first meal here. But while I was eating all I could think of was how unlikely you were to even hear me out…"

Ginny grunted at herself. Malfoy looked at her. She shook her head. "I am a decent human being, of course I would hear you out." Inwardly, she berated herself for allowing her mother to spike his food with the Inner Turmoil powder. She ran a hand over her face as she felt the grief again of losing her brothers…

"In the meantime," Ginny said, standing, "I have a request to make of you." Malfoy stood also, and she moved to take his elbow so that he didn't fall. He nodded at her wearily.

"Snape is here. Will you let him make you something to make you stronger? Tracking down these rings may take some time." Malfoy nodded, his head lowered. After a long moment, he met her eyes. He had tears in his eyes.

"Thankyou," he said in a voice that was as broken as his pride.