Once in Diagon Alley, they had split into pairs: Cormac and Ron, Angellina and Devin, and Harry taking Malfoy since he wasn't sure what else to do with him. Shop by shop they'd set the wards Angellina had based off Malfoy's theory until everyone was protected, even the Leaky Cauldron in the off chance their culprit changed his MO on a whim. Then they were wandering the street, disguised in their everyday robes, trying to seem like they weren't waiting for someone to get horribly cursed when they walked into a shop. The street was busy, families out celebrating HPV Day, so it was easier for the Aurors to blend in.

When it happened, Ron and Cormac were outside Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes pretending, Harry hoped, to examine the newest products displayed in the window; Angellina and Devin were walking arm in arm, as if on a date; and Harry had taken Malfoy to the Quidditch shop as he couldn't think of anywhere else it would make sense they would be seen together window shopping. The blonde git had promptly started arguing with him about broom makers making Harry want to strangle him and his idiotic notion that Clean Sweeps could ever outperform Firebolts. If he hadn't seen the way Malfoy's grey eyes kept darting around the street, locking onto each Witch and Wizard as they entered a shop in their vicinity, Harry would have thought the man had forgotten what they were really here for. He was that convincing that when everything went to hell, Harry was certain they hadn't been the ones made.

The shout from up the street was the only warning before the glass from every shop on the East side of Diagon Alley shattered outward. People screamed and began apparating away, but Harry could see too many bodies still in the street, hear too many screams from wounded, as he as he and Draco raced toward that first shout.

Another explosion took out the enchanted street lights. Now Harry could see hexes flying through the dark from one set of blasted out shop windows to another. Someone was fighting back, but he didn't know if it was his team or someone on the street.

A cutting curse came flying in his direction and he tackled Malfoy to the cobblestones. Something made an awful rending sound from behind them, but Harry didn't have time to see what. Another curse was soaring in his direction, then skidding off a shield spell two feet in front of them. Rolling off Draco, he found the blonde with wand in hand and grinned as he realized the git had kept his wits about him to cast that shield after Harry had tackled him to the ground.

"There's no way we're getting down there without getting hit," Malfoy said through gritted teeth as he and Harry rolled out of the attackers sight, using a protruding shop corner as cover.

"Did you see how many?" Harry asked and cursed as Malfoy shook his head.

Summoning thoughts of Ginny on their last date looking devastating in a white summer dress, hair tossed over her shoulder, beaming at him and laughing about something he said, Harry cast a patronus charm. "We need backup," he told the stag. "Diagon Alley, unknown number of Dark Wizards, pinned down and attempting to subdue perpetrators." He twisted his wand to end the magic that would have recorded his voice. "Go to Kinna," he ordered and looked away before the stag had even bounded away down the street.

"I have an idea," Malfoy said and Harry ducked reflexively as a curse blasted away a chunk of the wall they were hiding behind.

"We don't have all day," Harry snapped when the blonde didn't continue.

The look Malfoy gave him was searching, or conflicted, or some other emotion Harry didn't understand. He had to admit he couldn't read the blonde like he could in school. Thankfully Draco found whatever it was that he was looking for quickly and swished his wand in a familiar motion. A crash sounded from just down the street and Cleansweep 13 they had been arguing over was zooming in their direction. Pure instinct had Harry reaching out, the wood of the handle slapping into his hand.

"Of course you picked the Cleansweep," he muttered, but was already preparing to mount the broom, leaving enough room in front of him so Malfoy could could take the front and control their flying. Malfoy, however, had different ideas.

"Let me on the back."

Harry fixed him with a look; they really didn't have time to argue about this.

"You're the better flyer," Malfoy said without a single roll of his eyes nor trace of sneer on his lips. Harry very nearly fell off the borrowed broom at the shock. The other Auror took his surprise as continued protest because he added defensively, "I am capable of protecting us."

Instead of answering, Harry just moved forward and Malfoy clambered on to the back of the broom. With a hard kick to the ground they were airborne. One of Malfoy's arms wrapped around Harry's waist to keep him seated as he twisted to see behind and below them. He saw the other man's wand flick once in deflection and once to form a shield charm and then ignored what Malfoy was doing to focus on his flying.

Up and over the roofs they zipped, the Cleansweep handling the quick turns better than a Nimbus would have. It didn't quite have the power of the other brand, but in this situation they didn't need it. They darted across the roofs, back down into the street and straight through the broken window the Dark Wizards were firing through, over three hooded heads, towards the shops back wall. It took all of Harry's skill with a broom to bring them to a stop before they plowed into the unyielding wooden panels.

Malfoy must have trusted he would bring them to a safe stop, because he held his place on the broom until it came to a complete stop. At some point he had cast a strong shield charm before the both of them because several hexes bounced off of it before Harry could get off the broom. Malfoy followed in lockstep, his wand at the ready.

The battle that followed was more intense and fierce than any Harry could remember since defeating Voldemort. They had effectively trapped the Dark Wizards in a crossfire, making the three criminals more desperate than ever. Yet Harry didn't fear for his own safety once. At his side, Malfoy moved in perfect unison as if they had fought together a hundred times. Curses just this side of the law whipped from the blonde's wand between deflections and shield charms, timed to strike perfectly along with Harry's less harmful hexes. They moved together without need to communicate, ducking and weaving, covering each other's blind spots without thinking twice about it. They were a beautiful, graceful combination that had Harry's heart soaring with exhilaration as though they had never gotten of that broom. The Dark Wizards didn't stand a chance.

Later they would find out the battle lasted less than a minute, ending with all three suspects wrapped in some sort of spiders web that Draco – Harry couldn't bring himself to think of the blonde as Malfoy after that – had conjured once they were incapacitated. The rest of Team Four rushed through the breach in the store front, wands held at the ready, and stared in surprise from Harry and Draco to the three trussed up bodies.

Harry laughed, clapped Draco on the shoulder, and stumbled. Two hands immediately reached to grab him, Ron on one side, Draco on the other. The adrenaline had begun to wear off, leaving Harry dizzy and shaky. His best friend had already been moving to him, knowing how he would react after the battle. Yet, he hadn't been surprised Draco had caught him either, or when he helped Ron lead him to a corner where he could sit out of sight of the public eye. It was weird, but it felt right.

"Devin," Harry called; he was still in charge here and there was plenty left to do, "Set up a perimeter to the north; keep the press out of this as long as you can. Angellina, you take the south. Cormac, watch the prisoners. Ron, Draco," both the redhead and the blonde gave him startled looks at the use of Malfoy's first name, "see if there are any wounded and get a call into St. Mungos to send Mediwizards. I'll get in contact with Kinna."

Each member of his team immediately set about their assigned tasks. For a moment, Harry let himself combat the tremors in his limbs from the adrenaline's withdrawal. Then he lifted his wand and set about doing his job. Debriefing Kinna took longer than it normally would, since the situation had turned so horribly wrong. There would be another debriefing later, after he'd had a chance to debrief his team, but they had to do some damage control now or the Prophet would tear them apart.

Twenty minutes later, Harry slipped out of the blasted shop front – Twillfitt and Tattings from the look of it – and into the street again. A quick scan showed everyone exactly where they should be. Angellina and Devin had set up barriers, Cormac was guarding their three prisoners, Ron was helping several Mediwizards load injured wizards and witches onto floating stretchers, and Draco was kneeling with another Mediwitch down the street over a prone body. Both were working in a frenzy, covered in more blood than Harry had seen in a long time. He hurried to help, wondering briefly if Draco had been injured and he had been too oblivious to notice, and froze upon seeing the woman between them.

Red hair, flashing like fire in the fading sunlight, spread out in a pool of blood. Blue eyes stared sightlessly at the sky, but they should have flashed with life and joy and playfulness.

Ginny.

Harry was barely aware of another Healer rushing to Draco's side, pushing him out of the way so he could add his spells to the other Healer's effort. All he could see was the blood pooling beneath her head, soaking the red strands a deeper, darker ruby.

"Ginny!"

Ron tried to run past him, but Harry caught him about the shoulders and held him back. The Healers needed room to work and they would only be in the way. He was too numb to force the words between his lips, holding his best friend in a death grip as he struggled to go to his sister. In the end he sagged against Harry, sobbing and calling brokenly to Ginny. If she heard him, she didn't even twitch.

The brilliant light of a lumos spell chased away the shadows of the early night and lit the grisly scene in harsh detail. Ginny's skin was too pale, her eyes unblinking, but Harry could see her chest rising. Or he told himself he could because she just couldn't be dead. It had been three years since he had lost Remus, Tonks, Fred, Dumbledore, and Snape, but Harry still didn't think he could handle losing someone else he loved. So she couldn't be dead because the Universe would never break him like that, not after all he had been through. Not after all Molly and the Weasley's had been through after Fred's death.

One of the healers sagged, reaching out a trembling, bloody hand to her partner's shoulder. The man hesitated, cast one more spell before he too looked defeated. One of the Healer's transfigured a sheet and began pulling it up, over Ginny's sightless, staring blue eyes.

In his arms, Ron let out a strangled cry and collapsed completely to the cobblestones. Harry didn't try to catch him, flowing to his feet and drawing his wand. He would make them continue to help her. He would make them save her.

Abruptly his wand was blasted from his hand, sailing sharply to the left and slapping into a long fingered hand with blood stained nails. He opened his mouth to demand it back, but when his eyes met the storm grey of that hand's owner, he felt his tongue glue to the roof of his mouth. Draco's blonde hair was streaked with blood, blood soaked his Auror's robes, but it was the fresh tracks of tears down his dusty cheeks that stopped Harry.

Why would Malfoy care if a Weasley died?

"She's gone," Draco's voice was flat, as if he didn't feel the grief that shone in his eyes. "There's nothing they can do."

The words snapped Harry from his shock, hot rage surging through his veins.

"You don't know that!" he shouted. "They can fix her! Give me my wand back – give it back and I'll make sure they bring her back!"

People were staring, but Harry didn't care. Malfoy didn't either if the way his eyes never strayed from Harry was any indication.

"No," Draco said flatly.

"Fine," Harry snapped.

He couldn't remember being this angry, didn't think he could feel the emotion any stronger than he did at that moment. Turning on his heel, he snatched Ron's wand from the street and rose again. The Healers took several hasty steps back from him, but before he could cast a single spell, something lashed against his hand, stinging so badly that the wand fell from his grasp.

Whirling back towards Malfoy, Harry found he could get angrier after all. The blonde bastard was smirking at him, that perfect, condescending smirk he remembered so well from school. It was all he could see and all he could think was the pureblood son of a bitch was going to let Ginny die.

With a roar of pure rage, Harry flung himself at his enemy. He didn't care that Malfoy had a wand and he didn't and it didn't matter as Harry crossed the space between them before he could cast a spell in defense. They tumbled to the ground, Harry easily pinning Malfoy to the ground. His right fist connected with Malfoy's jaw with a sickening crack and pain surged down Harry's arm. Ignoring it, he swung and was gratified as his fist connected yet again.

Again and again he struck at Malfoy's perfect cheekbones and perfect nose and perfect jaw, finding it effortless to beat the shit out of the pureblood git. Ginny's blood was now indistinguishable from Malfoy's as his lip split and his nose broke under Harry's onslaught. His eyes swelled and he didn't look perfect anymore, but he was still alive when so many others weren't that Harry found he couldn't stop. If he really wanted to keep his face pretty he should have covered his head or cast a shield charm or…

Harry's fist froze in midair as the realization sank in that Malfoy wasn't making any effort, at all, to defend himself. His arms lay flat on the pavement, palms towards the sky. He hadn't tried to get Harry off him, hadn't once fought back at all. He had just accepted the beating. No one had made any attempt to stop Harry from beating Draco Malfoy to a pulp either. Not even the Mediwizards and Healers from St. Mungos.

When another punch didn't land on his face, one grey eye cracked open to peer at Harry through the swollen slit. If he hadn't been so close, Harry was certain he wouldn't have seen the grief shining there. No one had cared that Harry was hurting Draco, but Draco cared that Ginny was dead. How had he repaid that? He'd beaten the other man like Dudley throwing a tantrum.

"Are you finished acting like a child?"

Draco's voice was a croak. Harry thought he was going to be sick. Scrambling off Draco's chest, he stumbled into the wall and found his legs wouldn't support him. Ginny was dead. He had beaten Draco Malfoy and Ginny was dead.

Vaguely he was aware that Draco was sitting up, casting a spell that lowered the swelling around his eyes, then another that stopped the bleeding of his nose and lip and scalp. Harry couldn't bear to look at what he had done, already knowing no one would report the assault.

"She can't be gone, she can't," Harry whispered, pleading with the Universe more than speaking to anyone.

Of course, Draco answered anyways.

"She is," his voice was harsh and Harry flinched, though he imagined he deserved it. He still felt he deserved it when Draco grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard. "She's gone, Potter. She's not coming back. You can't change that, but you bloody well better not forget about the people who ARE still here. Your team needs you. Weasley needs you. Pull yourself together and act like a fucking leader."

Harry swallowed hard, but nodded to Draco's words. There would be time enough to grieve later. Right now, Ron did need him, Molly would need him soon and George especially. He couldn't just cower against the wall and wail at the world. At least, he couldn't just yet. Later, when he was alone in his flat, he could do just that, but for now he let Draco haul him to his feet.

"Malfoy…"

Harry hesitated, the apology on his lips, and Draco sneered at him again.

"Go away, Potter. Be a bloody hero already."

The familiar attitude didn't spark the rage it had before, thankfully. He could see, now, that Draco was using it to deflect from his own vulnerability. Harry still didn't know why the man cared, but Ginny's death had hit him hard.

"Thanks, Draco," Harry said instead of his apology. This earned him another sneer, but he didn't stick around long enough to let it affect him.

Hurrying to Ron's side, he hauled the redhead to his feet and sent his stag Patronus to Hermione so she would meet them at St. Mungos. He had Angellina send hers to Kinna, letting her know they had need of reinforcements and why. The words were hard to force past his lips, but he managed to say it.

Ginny was dead.

Since Devin hadn't known Ginny that long, Harry had him wait for the Aurors Kinna would send and sent Angellina and Cormac with Ginny – Ginny's body - to St. Mungo's. With Ron in tow, he followed after them; his best friend couldn't stand on his own yet.

They all knew where the morgue was, but this was different than other times they had been in this part of St. Mungos. They stopped at the waiting room, not allowed to pass into the cold rooms where bodies were kept and examined. Cold metal chairs lined the stark white room, unfriendly and uncaring of those who had just passed. Harry put Ron in one of the chairs and sent his Patronus to each of the Weasleys and Andromeda. Eventually, there would be more people to tell, the entire Harpy team for instance, but not just yet. Now was the time for family.

They didn't come all at the same time, so Harry had to tell the story over and over and over. Each time he received a different reaction, tears or anger or denial or numbed shock. Each time he offered the comfort he knew his family needed, not letting his own grief overwhelm him like it had before. He let them lean on him and they didn't notice that he needed someone to lean on, too.

The woman he loved was gone. His first love, the one he had thought he would spend his life with, have a family with. Hell, he had been talking about proposals with Ron only a few weeks ago. He had looked at rings with Hermione the other day. It felt like he was going to be swallowed whole by blackness, but he didn't let himself give in. Not yet. Not until he had made sure everyone was safely home, not until he had activated the privacy wards around his flat; then he gave in and cried and screamed until he passed out.

None of it mattered. When he woke up, Ginny was still gone.