Chapter 7

The snow came early to Hogwarts.

The morning of Halloween, the clouds rolled in and by the time the students and professors gathered in the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, there was already more than an inch of snow on the ground.

Hermione and the Weasleys were surprised when Harry came down from Gryffindor Tower to join them for dinner and even more surprised when he actually put more than a tiny helping of potatoes and half of a roll on his plate.

"Getting your appetite back?" Hermione asked, also noticing that Harry didn't seem quite as pale as he had in the past few months.

"Sort of," Harry shrugged, grabbing a chicken leg, some potatoes, and a roll. "I just needed to get out of my suite for a while." In truth, spending so much time away from classes, Harry had started to feel like he was stuck in a hospital. But getting away had been a challenge lately because the two days a week he wasn't attached to an IV he preferred to either sleep or do homework.

As Hermione ate, she kept one ear on the conversations going on between the Weasleys about the upcoming Quidditch match against Slytherin and one eye on Harry who was slowly making his way through his meal, no doubt being cautious, lest he set his stomach off unexpectedly.

She knew that Dr. Rion had recently changed some of Harry's medications, especially after Harry had become even sicker after just one treatment on some of the newer drugs. But seeing her best friend look just a bit like his old self, Hermione wondered if the worst was over and Harry would finally start getting better. But she also knew that even if Harry did seem better, he still had to continue with the chemotherapy treatments, lest the slide cause a relapse of the cancer.

When the desserts came, Hermione was again surprised, but this time because of one of the offerings. Thick, homemade applesauce with enough body that the serving spoons stuck in it stood straight out. Before Harry could object, Hermione dished him up some and set the bowl before him.

"I think I'm just going back upstairs, Hermione," Harry said, wearily, not in the mood to eat anything more.

But Hermione wasn't to be dissuaded. "It'll help, Harry," she pressed, gently. "Trust me. Whenever I had stomach flu as a child, Mum always gave me applesauce."

Harry didn't want to say anything, but in truth, he stomach was starting to churn a bit. But deciding to trust Hermione's recommendation, he took the tiniest bite possible and after a few moments, he felt his stomach settle back to normal a bit. Giving her a grateful look, Harry took another small bite and again felt his nausea ebb slightly. It felt like the first time since June that he could eat something and not have to worry that he would end up in front of a toilet later on.

Encouraged as he was by the Halloween feast, the next morning, Harry still found himself in his bathroom throwing up. Thankfully, there wasn't much in his stomach to be expelled and when Harry was done he limped back to his room and collapsed back onto his bed. He hated that he still had nearly two more months of chemotherapy treatments and honestly, he wasn't sure how much more he could take.

The transfusions had helped restore his energy, but Harry still felt sick often and he wished he could just make it all stop.

Sitting up in bed, Harry let out a deep sigh before grabbing his prosthetic and his clothes. Once the artificial leg was on and he was dressed, he headed out of the suite and promptly ran into Anna Rion who was just entering Gryffindor Tower.

"Harry," Anna said, surprised. "What are you up to?"

Harry sighed as he realized that he had forgotten about his transfusion treatment that day. "Just… getting my latest assignments," he muttered, going back to sit on the bed.

After getting Harry settled, Anna attached the IVs before taking a blood sample from Harry's free arm. Seeing the teenager's look, she gave him a reassuring smile. "Just want to run a few tests," she replied to the unasked question.

"So when am I done with all this?" Harry asked, looking at the IVs.

Anna put the blood vial away in her bag and sat on the edge of the bed. "Well, I'll check your numbers and we'll go from there," she replied, simply. Seeing that Harry wanted to know specifics, she said, "I can't tell you exactly, Harry. Cancer is a variable thing. And even if you go into remission, it doesn't mean that you're cured. We'll still do regular blood tests and once a year you'll have a full work-up: Blood, spinal tap, bone marrow biopsy… Bone cancer hides very easily and sometimes it's hard to pinpoint the symptoms."

Harry nodded, wishing it was better news. But he had more questions and decided to just go ahead and say it, "When you get the latest test results…?"

Being a doctor—and more importantly one who did 3 separate oncology rotations during medical school—Anna understood the kinds of questions that cancer patients asked. And, of course, Harry wasn't just another patient. He was her godson and more than anything, Anna wanted to reassure him that he would be okay. But she also didn't want to give him false hope.

"If the tests still show malignant cells," Anna said, calmly. "You'll finish your current round of treatment and we'll do another blood draw."

"And if this round doesn't work?" Harry asked, wanting to know the worst case scenario.

Anna thought for a moment before responding to the question. "We'll do another re-evaluation of your meds if the levels are low. If they're higher…" She didn't want to think about it, but knew she had to present it as a possibility. "If the number of malignant cells is higher than before, we'll have to go with aggressive treatment—a bone marrow transplant."

Harry lay back, suddenly feeling dizzy. He tried to keep breathing, but it felt like his lungs weren't working. The room started spinning and though he tried focusing on Anna's voice, Harry soon succumbed to the darkness trying to envelop him.

xxxxxxx

Waking later that evening, Harry was surprised to see his cousin standing in the doorway. "Dudley?' he asked, finding his glasses and putting them on.

"How are you feeling?" Dudley asked from the doorway.

Harry sat up and shrugged, his head starting to clear. "What happened? How long was I out?"

"You had a panic attack and passed out," Dudley said, sitting next to Harry's bed. "Dr. Rion did a quick check-up and didn't find any other problems. You'll be okay by tomorrow, she reckons."

"I don't know if I really believe that anymore," Harry admitted. "You know? What if I'm not okay? You didn't hear what Dr. Rion said before. If I keep being resistant to the chemo… I've read about bone marrow transplants, Dudley. I don't want to go through that. It'll make this—" He gestured to himself. "—look like a regular picnic."

"It probably… I don't think that you…" Dudley tried to say something encouraging but all his thoughts just died partway as he said them. "I… I'm rooting for you, Harry," he finally said, mentally kicking himself for how lame that sounded out loud. "I just mean… I wouldn't wish this on anyone."

"Thanks, Dud," Harry replied, knowing that it must have been hard for his cousin to admit to being wrong and a bully all those years.

"I mean it," Dudley insisted. "You know, I was… I was thinking, when all this is over… Maybe I could teach you how to box."

Harry let out a dry laugh. It had been a long time since he'd found something funny. "There's a fair amount of footwork involved in that, isn't there?" Looking down at the stump where his leg had been he added, "It's hard to have good footwork when you don't even have both feet."

"So we'll work around that," Dudley insisted. "Think positive. You're tougher than I ever gave you credit for."

Harry lay back down, sighing. "The only thing I've ever been positive about is that I've been on borrowed time ever since Voldemort tried to kill me as a baby."

Dudley leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. He didn't like the idea of his cousin giving up but he figured it best to let Harry get the negativity out of his system. "So you're throwing in the towel then, are you? After all the stuff you've said you've done; now you're just going to give up and die?"

"Cancer… Voldemort… One way or another, I'm probably not going to live long enough to get married, have kids… a real life," Harry said, staring up at the ceiling, gloomily. "I don't want to die. But it's going to happen sooner or later."

"Then don't die," Dudley replied, succinctly. "Survive. Live. Have fun once in a while. Don't let this disease be the thing that beats you."

"Funny, coming from someone who thought for years that I was a waste of space," Harry said, dully, not really in the mood to be cheered up.

"You are not a waste of space," Dudley insisted. "I never gave you a chance. But I'll tell you right now that I wouldn't be here now if I didn't care."

"I'm tired of this," Harry moaned as he felt a sudden wave of nausea. "I want this all to be over."

"It will be," Dudley said, encouragingly. "Just don't give up yet."

It was almost curfew by the time Draco Malfoy managed to find Ginny in an empty classroom on the 4th floor. She'd been missing almost all day after hearing about Harry's panic attack earlier and after searching all over the castle, Draco finally found Ginny sitting against the back wall of the room, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

Kneeling down, Draco wordlessly reached a hand to stroke her cheek but flinched when Ginny pulled away from his touch. "Leave me alone," Ginny said, dismally. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Genevra…" Draco said, softly as he brushed Ginny's hair out of her face. "Talk to me, milady."

"I've had this crush on Harry ever since I first saw him," Ginny said, not looking at Draco. "He's one of my best friends. And I can't help him through this."

Draco knew this full well but that didn't stop the hurt he felt that Ginny's tears were for Harry. 'If I were sick—dying—would she cry for me, I wonder?' Draco thought, as he lightly stroked Ginny's cheek. "I take it Harry's latest test results were not good news?"

Ginny shook her head, sniffling back a fresh wave of tears. "The doctor who's been administering Harry's treatments just took a new blood sample for tests. But right now everyone is so damn certain Harry will be okay!" Ginny said, getting angry. "What if he isn't? What if nothing works and he—" She couldn't say the word. "Everyone's being so damn optimistic but no one's facing the truth! Sometimes cancer patients die!" Draco went to take Ginny's hand to comfort her but she withdrew, standing quickly, fire blazing in her eyes so hard that Draco almost felt burned when she looked at him. "And you!" she shouted, anger and disgust in her voice. "You used me to… You bribed my parents so they would let you date me!" Draco stood as well and started to put his arms around Ginny. "Stay away from me!" she shouted, fighting him off as hard as she could. Oh, God—she knew this was a mistake!

"I never used you," Draco insisted as he tried to get Ginny to calm down. "The money was a gift. No strings attached. I just want you to have everything." Taking Ginny in his arms, he tightened his grip as she struggled, turning her back on him. "You deserve to be treated like a queen," he said softly in her ear. "I can give you every luxury you've ever been denied. I can satisfy your every desire or whim…" Feeling Ginny cease in her struggles, he hoped it was because she was actually listening as he went on. "I can give you whatever you desire most in this world."

Turning in Draco's embrace Ginny's eyes were filled with fresh tears as she whispered, "You can't. You can't cure Harry." Seeing his hurt expression, Ginny added, "He's like a brother to me, Draco. And… I don't want to lose him. Like I don't want to lose you."

Draco was caught off guard by that. He'd been avoiding the idea of love in connection with Ginny, but now that she'd mentioned it, it was too late to try and avoid the issue. "So this is more than just a passing fancy to you?" he asked, curiously.

Ginny thought for a moment of how to respond to that and finally she said, "You have been nothing but cruel to my family for years. You degrade Hermione Granger and Harry. I can't even explain why I like you except that…"

"What?" Draco asked, noticing the embarrassed blush on Ginny's face as she pulled away from him.

"When I was little," Ginny began, wishing she hadn't said anything. "Mum read me this muggle fairy tale called 'The Frog Prince'." Seeing the amused look on Draco's face, she felt her face get even redder. "It… made me think of you. A frog wins the heart of a princess, and he turns into a handsome prince when she kisses him."

Draco wasn't sure about the comparison to a slimy amphibian, but he got the meaning behind it. "So what happens at the end of this fairy tale?" he wanted to know.

"Need to talk to you," Fred and George said, seriously as they entered Harry's suite the following morning, waking him up out of a sound sleep.

"Well, you've got about an hour before Anna comes to start my next chemo treatment," Harry replied, sitting up and donning his glasses. "What's going on?"

"It's about Malfoy," Fred replied, quickly.

"And Ginny," George added. "Mum told us about them… and the money Malfoy gave her."

"A gift?" Fred interjected. "Please, it's Malfoy! There has to be a string attached."

"Well, I don't know if Ginny actually cares for Malfoy," Harry started. "But he seems to genuinely care about her. Though I think if he were trying to buy Ginny's affections, he wouldn't go so far as donating blood for the transfusions I've been getting." When the twins looked surprised at that, Harry added, "Malfoy, Neville, Hermione, and Snape are the only available people who have my blood type."

Fred and George exchanged significant looks. They understood what Harry was saying, but they knew they had to explain why they were being so protective and suspicious. "Ron's always been the most bitter about us being poor," Fred explained. "But Ginny… more than any of us she's been the one to dream about being rich. She's the only girl so I guess Mum and Dad spoiled her as much as they possibly could."

"So Malfoy telling Ginny he can give her everything she's ever wanted…" Harry mused as he thought about Draco's financial gift.

"That's a lure I doubt she'd be able to resist," George said, grimly. "And even if Malfoy is sincere—"

"Highly doubtful," Fred interrupted, giving his twin a look.

"I said 'if'," George replied. "Even if Malfoy is doing this out of the kindness of his heart—if he thinks we're not going to try and protect out baby sister, he's grossly mistaken."

Looking at the clock on the wall, Harry realized that the twins were missing classes and asked, "Don't you guys have DADA right now?"

"Yeah," George replied, grinning. "But it doesn't matter if we miss some classes. The joke shop is ready to go. Just have a few final renovations on the building and we'll be ready to open for business."

"Grand opening is April 1st," Fred added, proudly. "And we owe it all to you, mate."

"Great. And you're welcome," Harry said, enthusiastically. "At least some people will be able to have a laugh," he added, darkly. Trying to give a thankful smile he said, "Thanks for coming. It's good to have company that doesn't want to talk about… you know."

"Think nothing of it, Harry," Fred said, grinning. "We're happy to help."

Sitting in his office, looking out at the November snow, Dumbledore was lost in thought. Anna Rion had updated him on Harry's condition and while it wasn't as great as hoped, it was promising. Harry's oncologist, Dr. Walden had wanted to double check the results of the blood tests before he gave any definitive news. But it looked like Harry might be able to end his chemotherapy treatments early.

Pulled from his reverie by someone knocking, Dumbledore turned to the door. "Come in," he called. After a moment, Anna opened the door, Severus Snape entering the office behind her.

"Any news on Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes fixed on Snape.

Closing the door, Snape replied with something almost approaching a smile, "I have good news, headmaster."

"There is far too little of that these days," Dumbledore said, grimly. "Please—do tell."

"You recall that the Dark Lord used Potter's blood to resurrect himself the night of the Third Task?" Snape said, quietly.

"An event impossible to forget," the headmaster muttered, thinking of that night. But he was stopped from further musing as Snape continued with the report.

"Along with Potter's blood protection," Snape continued, a smile tweaking the corner of his face. "—it seems the Dark Lord has also assumed Potter's present malady."

"What?" Anna asked, surprised by this news. "Voldemort has cancer?"

"The Dark Lord has rejected my suggestions for muggle treatments. He believes that his magic will protect him. However, his strength is failing," Snape went on. "Surely you've noticed the lack of Death Eater activity."

"I had wondered about the absence of attacks," Dumbledore mused. "Keep me informed, Severus. Given this turn of events… perhaps we will not need Harry to confront Voldemort directly after all."

Harry's joy at the arrival of the Christmas holidays was shadowed by the end of the latest cycle of chemotherapy. Sitting in the Hospital wing, Harry was between Petunia and Mrs. Weasley and both women had an arm around him as though they could shield him from any more bad news.

But as Dr. Walden entered the room followed by Anna, the small group breathed a collective sigh of relief when they saw the oncologist smile. "Congratulations, Harry," Walden said, happily. "Your blood tests look just fine. I thought I should be the one to tell you in person."

Harry knew what he'd heard but he didn't believe it. The past three months had been the most hellish of his entire life. Last week, after spending over two hours in his bathroom throwing up, he'd confessed to Dudley that he often thought of just giving up… letting the disease take over.

But now was it truly over? Luna's words from the train ride to Hogwarts suddenly echoed in his mind. "What if you don't die? What if you defeat You-Know-Who and the cancer?" What would Harry do now? Suddenly, all the doors he thought were closed were flung wide open and he found himself taking a free breath for the first time since June.

"—Burrow this Christmas," Mrs. Weasley said, cheerfully, giving Harry a hug.

"What?" Harry said, vaguely, unaware that Mrs. Weasley had spoken.

"You're coming to spend Christmas with us, Harry," Mrs. Weasley repeated, brightly. "We have a room all set for you. We've made some improvements on the old place and we wanted to make sure you had your own room when you come to visit, dear."

"Sounds nice," Harry replied, smiling. He couldn't wait to get out of the castle for a while.

"Are you okay?" Petunia asked, seeing Harry's wan face. He certainly looked happy, but he also seemed to be tired.

"Tired," Harry muttered. The previous few weeks he hadn't been sleeping well and it seemed as though the lack of proper rest was catching up with him.

Madame Pomfrey, who had been hovering by her office door, came over immediately with a bottle of dreamless sleep potion. Handing the vial to Harry, she said, "Take this as soon as you get back to your room, Potter."

"Thanks," Harry replied, gratefully.

xx

Once in his own bed, Harry took the cup of potion Petunia offered, still not sure he dared to believe that he was actually in remission. "Is it really over?" He asked, hopefully before removing his glasses and getting comfortable in bed.

"I can't say for certain," Petunia replied as Harry drank the potion and closed his eyes. "But it's over for now."

"Stay with me?" Harry whispered before sleep overtook him. It felt like a second chance at everything—especially with his aunt.

Lying down on the other side of Harry's bed, Petunia watched her nephew sleep and prayed that slumber would rejuvenate him.

It was hardly surprising to Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Luna that Harry fell asleep almost as soon as he sat down in their compartment on the Hogwarts Express for the trip to London for the holidays. The past few days, Harry had spent most of his time sleeping and it seemed like each time he got up, he seemed a little more rested.

"It's such a relief that Harry's going to be okay," Hermione said, quietly as Harry slept. "It looked like Harry was going to be… Well, at least he's better now."

"Mum's been worried sick about him," Ginny added. "What with the Third Task last year, then the accident, then… you know. She's so happy he's coming home for Christmas. She even invited Dudley and Petunia to spend the holidays at the Burrow."

"Kinda of strange to think that Harry's actually getting along with his aunt and cousin," Ron mused. "All those years he complained about them…And if they hadn't been there… It's weird to think Harry actually needed them around for once."

"Well, I think Mum only tolerates Harry's aunt because he's giving her a chance," Ginny said, knowingly. "Mum's got a long memory and after everything Petunia has done, she's not going to just let that go." Looking at Harry, she noticed how small he looked, sitting against his knapsack, his head listing to one side. "Even taking Harry's illness into consideration he's far to thin these days."

"Mum'll have Harry back to normal in no time," Ron assured his sister with a warm smile. "Couple good meals and some decent sleep, he'll be good as new."

"Normal being a relative term, of course," Luna observed, glancing at Harry knowingly as she lightly rubbed his shoulder.

"Guess 'normal' was a bad phrasing," Ron muttered, glancing at Harry's prosthetic and lack of hair. "He's always going to have reminders of all this, isn't he?"

"We know what you meant," Hermione replied as Harry stirred slightly. "And Harry's hair should start growing back in 3 to 6 months."

"We should talk later," Ginny whispered as Harry stirred again. "Just let him sleep."

"Fred and George are down the corridor," Ron suggested. "We could go down there and talk."

"What about Harry?" Hermione asked, looking at her best friend. Even if he was asleep, she didn't really want to leave him alone.

"I'll stay with him," Luna volunteered as she gently moved Harry so he was in a more comfortable position. "Go talk."

As quietly as they could, Hermione, Ron and Ginny left the compartment and headed to where Fred and George were sitting and planning the final details for their joke shop. "Thought you three were sitting with Harry," George said as they came in and closed the compartment door.

"Luna's still with him," Ginny replied. "We thought it best to just let Harry sleep." Looking at the plans Fred had out she asked, "How's the joke shop going?"

"April 1st Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes opens in Diagon Alley," Fred beamed. "By then we'll have all the stock we'll need and our premises will be ready to go."

"Brilliant," Ron replied, grinning. "Mum's going have a fit when she finds out that you two pulled this off right under her nose."

"I don't know," Ginny replied as she sat down next to Fred. "She seemed to take it fine when she found out Draco was courting me."

For a moment it seemed like time itself had stopped dead. No one moved or spoke and Hermione started counting down until the inevitable outburst from Ron.

Then Ron croaked out, "Excuse me?" Turning to his only sister, his eyes were wide as he shouted, "You're dating WHO?"

"Draco Malfoy has been… courting me," Ginny repeated, slowly. This had been precisely the reason she hadn't said anything to Ron about the situation. "I wouldn't call it dating exactly."

"I don't CARE what you call it!" Ron shouted angrily as he looked at his brothers. "You knew Malfoy had his filthy mouth all over Ginny?"

"He has only kissed me once!" Ginny protested. "And it was just a nice, sweet kiss after we had a very nice picnic dinner together in the Room of Requirement."

Ron started sputtering at this news. Why was he just hearing about this now? "WHAT? Have you completely lost your mind?"

"Draco has been a complete gentleman," Ginny argued. "Last week he and Dudley sat with Harry while the rest of us were in classes. And he did willingly donate blood for the transfusion treatments Harry was receiving."

"You—After all he's done? After everything he's said?" Ron shouted, flabbergasted. "After all the times he's insulted our family?"

"He's quite charming, really, once you give him a chance," Ginny insisted. "He even apologized to Hermione for—"

"You knew about this?" Ron exclaimed, looking at his girlfriend in disbelief. "Why didn't I know about this?"

"Probably because of the way you're acting right now," Hermione snapped. "Because you'd be out for blood without listening to what anyone else said!"

"It's Malfoy!" Ron shouted again. "He's a dirty, rotten, Slytherin bastard! Why the HELL would he-?"

"Just talk to him!" Ginny cried. "He hasn't done anything but be kind, supportive, and caring. He wants to change. He's trying to be a good person! Give him a chance."

"He's had plenty of chances," Ron snapped. "He's never taken any of them!"

"Well, he's taking this one," Ginny replied. "He really has been wonderful… and a great comfort… you know… because of Harry."

"Oh, so because Harry chose someone else and then got sick you went after Malfoy?" Ron asked, still angry with his sister. "Are you really that gullible?"

"No!" Ginny protested. "It… wasn't like that! It started after I tripped him first day of term. I guess he realized I was done putting up with his crap."

Ron started to go into another tantrum but stopped when the door to the compartment opened and Harry and Luna came in. While Harry thankfully didn't look like he was ready to fall over, he still seemed weak and he had an arm around Luna for additional support as he looked at Ron with a reproachful look. "Ron, It's okay… Leave Ginny alone."

"Harry," Hermione said, as he sat down slowly. "I'm sorry… We didn't mean to wake you."

"I think most of the train heard you anyway," Harry replied, looking at Ron who seemed suddenly embarrassed by his outburst. "I'm the first person to put Malfoy down, Ron. But I think this time he's actually sincere, as strange as that sounds."

Arriving at the Burrow and seeing it covered in snow Harry deeply wished he was up to the snowball fight immediately started by Bill and Charlie who ambushed Fred, George, and Ron. But instead he leaned against the door of the house, watching the others play in the snow.

Defending the twins, Ginny scooped up a handful of snow and pelted Charlie in the head before Hermione hit Bill with a tightly packed orb.

"So, Ginny," Charlie said as he got ready to throw a snowball at his little sister. "What's this we hear about you and Draco Malfoy?"

Winding up and pitching, Ginny's snowball hit Bill in the back of the neck. "It's none of your business," she replied, curtly as Bill started jumping around as melting snow started trickling down the back of his sweater.

"Whatever happened to our sweet, innocent baby sister?" Charlie replied, smirking. He could still remember when his parents had brought Ginny home.

"First of all," Ginny said as they all started heading into the house to warm up, Hermione helping to support Harry. "I've never exactly been innocent."

"This is true," George agreed. "You've always had the biggest mischievous streak of the family."

"And secondly," Ginny added, pulling off her coat and hanging it up to dry. "I had to start growing up at some point, didn't I?"

At these words Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, and Ron stared at Ginny and for a moment saw more than their only sister. They also saw the young woman she was becoming and the amazing witch she would be when she was grown up.

Going over and hugging her, Bill said, "It doesn't matter how much you grow up, Ginny. You'll always be our baby sister."

There wasn't too much discussion regarding Ginny's relationship with Draco Malfoy the first few days of the holidays as just about everyone was busy decorating the Burrow for Christmas.

Magical snow gathered in piles around the living room and a magnificent Christmas tree stood next to the fireplace covered with twinkling lights and red, white, green, and silver baubles.

In the room he was sharing with Ron, Harry sat on his bed wrapping the last of his gifts. It wasn't as though he didn't want to be downstairs with the others. But even with Mrs. Weasley's cooking and the rejuvenation potions Snape had provided Harry with the previous day, he still got tired quicker than normal and as such spent most of his time either on the couch in the living room or in his room.

At dinner, Harry apologized when he started falling asleep before dessert but Mrs. Weasley waved this away. "I'm just happy you're here, Harry," Molly Weasley said as she helped Harry to bed two days before Christmas. "Rest up, dear. Your aunt and cousin are arriving tomorrow afternoon."

Harry nodded and closed his eyes as Mrs. Weasley pulled the covers up, tucking him in. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley… For everything."

Molly smiled as she turned to leave the bedroom. "My pleasure, Harry."

Although he trusted his only daughter—sometimes more than he even trusted his sons—Arthur Weasley did NOT trust Draco Malfoy. Even if the teenager was sincere it might still be a good idea to warn him of exactly what would happen if anything happened to Ginny. Of course, Arthur would likely have to wait until Ginny, Hermione, and the boys were done with Malfoy—not to mention Molly.

Therefore, when Petunia and Dudley Evans arrived the next afternoon accompanied by Draco Malfoy who—Arthur and Molly were happy to note—seemed a bit reluctant to join the rest of the Weasley family in the kitchen for an early dinner, Arthur took the opportunity to have a heart-to-heart with the Slytherin student.

"Mr. Malfoy," Arthur Weasley said, looking at the young man with a stern gaze. "May I have a word with you in the living room?"

Draco hesitated but nodded when he saw Ginny smile at him. "Of course, Mr. Weasley," Draco replied, politely. He didn't want to go, afraid of what might happen, but the look on Ginny's father's face made it clear that it wasn't a request.

Once in the living room, Arthur said, quietly. "That money you gave us… Were you trying to buy our daughter?"

"No, sir," Draco replied, honestly. "It was a gift. I wanted to… prove that my intentions towards Ginny were pure."

Arthur nodded and pulled out an old photo album. "I want to show you something," he said, opening the album and handing it to Malfoy.

Draco took the album and started flipping through the pictures of Ginny. There were shots of her when she was born, when she was playing with her brothers… birthday parties, Christmases…

"She's something special, isn't she?" Arthur Weasley said, watching Draco look at the pictures. "Ever since Molly and I married we wanted a little girl. When Ginny came along, we thought she was out greatest miracle."

"Genevra is an incredible young woman," Draco agreed, glancing up and seeing Mr. Weasley's stony face.

"She may be a young woman," Arthur said, coolly. "But let me be perfectly plain. That is my only little girl. She's my life." Putting a firm hand on Draco's shoulder and pulling him closer as he squeezed, he added, "If you hurt her in any way… if you break her heart… Remember this: I have no qualms about going to Azkaban in the interest of protecting my family." Draco started at this and he felt Mr. Weasley's grip tighten even more. "Do not make me regret letting you court my daughter."

Draco nodded, trying not to cry out at the pain in his shoulder. "I understand, sir," he said, quietly as Ginny came in.

"Dad? What are you…?" Ginny trailed off as she saw the look on her father's face.

"Just talking, Ginny," Arthur said, smiling as he let go of Draco's shoulder before giving him a hearty slap on the back.

Ginny looked doubtful at this. "Talking," she repeated, seeing Draco rotate his left shoulder as though it had been paining him. "Draco?"

"Your father was… laying down the law," Draco replied before taking Ginny's hand and leading her outside.

"Arthur?" Molly called, coming into the living room and looking around. "Where's Ginny?"

"Outside… with him," Arthur replied, trying to keep his tone even. "Of all the boys Ginny could fall in love with. Why in the world did she have to pick a Malfoy?"

"Because sometimes opposites attract," Molly replied, taking her husband's hand. "And sometimes there is an extremely thin line between love and hate. Besides… it's not like he's asking to marry our daughter."

"What?" Arthur said, ready to rip Malfoy apart at the mere thought of the boy marrying his daughter.

"Arthur, dear…" Molly said, smiling as she tried to soothe her husband. "Whether you like it or not… our daughter is growing up. She's becoming a young woman… and much as we may not like it, we have to let her."