CHAPTER 21 – SMALL STEPS FORWARD

Pansy wobbled as she arrived at The Leaky Cauldron and thought momentarily that she might have splinched herself in the process. She could never recall having been more upset or distracted, and she cursed at herself for not having anticipated her mother's reaction. Then again, she had truly not meant for Lucius Malfoy to die.

Nearly broke and completely friendless, Pansy began searching anxiously to find a quiet corner in which to sit. She was immediately stymied, however, as the old tavern was filled to overflowing. With no better idea of how to blend into the scenery, Pansy made her way slowly toward the bar, hoping to catch the eye of Tom, the aging bartender. She sidled up to one of the customers sitting at the bar, extremely careful to avoid eye contact.

"Excuse me, Tom!" Pansy called in the general direction of the back of the bald head she knew belonged to the barkeep.

When Tom failed to respond, Pansy wasn't sure whether the feeling that crept over her was frustration or embarrassment. She was in a tight spot, with only thirty galleons in her purse and another thousand or so at Gringotts.

"Well," she thought, "if they have a room available, I can at least make it through tonight. But can I make it until Monday, when Gringotts will next be open?"

Pansy stood silently, hoping Tom would soon turn in her direction, wondering if he had lost hearing along with his hairline and teeth. To her left, she could hear the name Harry Potter mentioned, along with questions being asked by an unknown witch as to whether anyone knew what had happened to his wife.

"Wife?" asked another patron, obviously surprised.

The wizard sitting beside Pansy finally lifted his gaze from Tom's direction and answered the curious wizard.

"That's right," he said softly. "Harry Potter married Ginny Weasley this evening, but they were attacked by Lucius Malfoy."

A hush descended over the entire room as every eye focused on Neville Longbottom.

Pansy froze immediately. She had never stopped to consider that one of the few attendees at the Potter/Weasley nuptials would have gone to The Leaky Cauldron following the violent outburst of the early evening hours.

"Ha … Hannah and I were there," he continued, nodding at the petite blonde girl who had been hidden from Pansy's view by the bartender who had obviously been giving her instructions. Both were wearing aprons embroidered with the tavern's name in golden lettering.

"Malfoy was trying to kill Harry and Ginny, but only managed to get himself killed in the process."

"Lucius Malfoy? Dead?" asked another voice that Pansy did not recognize. "How did that happen?"

"A … apparently he was stopped by Pansy Parkinson," replied Neville with full voice.

Pansy felt the room begin to spin as her vision narrowed, and she felt as if she was viewing the world through an incredibly weak telescope. Just as she felt consciousness slipping away, she reached out toward Longbottom in an attempt to avoid crashing to the floor.

"Pansy!" exclaimed Neville.

The surprised look on the wizard's face was the last thing Pansy saw before the tunnel closed and her world turned completely black.

****

George Weasley was growing anxious at the Burrow as he waited to hear news of his sister's recovery and was regretting his decision to stay home with Dudley Dursley rather than taking the Muggle home and joining his family at St. Mungo's. Dudley hadn't felt comfortable joining the Weasleys on a trip to the wizarding hospital, but neither had he wanted to return home to his family. As a result, someone needed to stay behind, and George had offered to take on the responsibility.

"But why would anyone want to hurt Harry or Ginny now? I thought your side had won the war," said Dudley, obviously confused.

"It's not that simple," George replied. "Voldemort played on prejudices that already existed in our world. He didn't invent them."

"Prejudices in the wizarding world?" asked Dudley. "I know my Mum and Dad are prejudiced against witches and wizard, but why do some wizards hate others?"

"It's all about blood status," answered George. "Our enemies would call it blood purity."

"But it seems to me that you either have magical powers or you don't," Dudley replied. "Why would one wizard's magical power be better than another's?"

"It is and it isn't," said George, shaking his head sadly from side to side.

"What does that mean?" asked Dudley.

"Well, some witches and wizards are more powerful than others. Take Ginny for example. She is a very powerful witch despite being so tiny. She happens to be a Pureblood, which means that she comes from a long line of witches and wizards who were also Purebloods."

"So, Purebloods are more powerful?"

"Not at all," George began. "Harry's a Half-Blood, but he's powerful."

"But Harry's parents were both magical!" Dudley protested.

"That's right," said George, obviously disgusted. "Even though both his parents were magical, Harry is considered a Half-Blood because his mother's parents were Muggles. Because of that, your Aunt Lily was called a Mudblood."

"What's a Mudblood?"

"It's what our enemies call witches or wizards born to non-magical parents. Your Aunt Lily was one. Ron's fiancée, Hermione, is another, and she's about as gifted a witch as you will ever see," George continued.

"And that was the basis for this war you've just fought? And why someone tried to kill Harry and Ginny?" asked Dudley, looking appalled. "That's ridiculous!"

"No more ridiculous than your mum hating Harry and his mum," said George sadly.

"That's only because my mum was scared and jealous of her sister's power."

"Exactly!" answered George. "It's the same with the Pureblood radicals. They're afraid and jealous, too. When that happens, people end up hating each other instead of trying to see their similarities."

"And because of that, all those people died?" asked Dudley. "Because of that, your twin brother was killed?"

"Y … y … yes," stammered George as tears began flowing down his cheeks, no matter how hard he fought to hold them back.

"Fine time to break down," he thought. "In front of a Muggle, no less!"

Only then did George realize that he was also falling victim to prejudice and stereotyping. After years of hearing that Dudley Dursley was a tremendous git, he was proving to be a rather nice person to talk to.

"It wasn't just my mum and dad," added Dudley, shaking his head slowly. "In a lot of ways, I treated Harry worse than anyone – at least I did until the night he saved my life from those Dementors."

"Yes," George answered, "and he almost wound up expelled from Hogwarts in the process. Harry's had a hard time of it. I don't know what he'll do if he loses Ginny."

Suddenly the conversation between George and Dudley was interrupted by the arrival of a shimmering silver weasel.

"Ginny is awake and will make a full recovery. At least some of us will return home shortly."

"Whoa!" exclaimed Dudley. "What was that?"

"My dad's Patronus," replied George. "They're right useful for everything from defense against Dementors to delivering messages in a pinch."

"Is that what Harry used to save my life? All I remember is something silver."

"Yes. You're lucky that Harry learned that charm earlier than most wizards do. It saved both of you that night and has saved Harry on a number of occasions. He even taught it to the rest of us a couple of years ago."

"Taught you?"

"Yeah, he taught us Defense Against the Dark Arts when the Ministry wouldn't let the us use magic in class."

"Crikey, George. There's a lot about Harry that I don't know anything about, isn't there?"

"Undoubtedly so. But that could be said about all of us," answered George.

"What about Ron and Hermione? They seem to know him better than anyone."

"They've been close for years, that's for sure, but I think Ginny is the only one he really opens up to. I watch him with my little sister and he's … I don't know … different, somehow. It's like he lets his guard down with her – that he's somehow softer. With Hermione and Ron, there's still an edge to him."

"Speaking of Ron and Hermione, I understand they're going back to school?"

"We'll see about that," answered George, a telltale smirk crossing his face. "Ron's pretty taken with young Miss Granger, but he's not really that much of a student. If I have any say in things, I'll see if I can entice him to help me with the joke shop. He has quite a head for planning and strategizing, even if he doesn't give himself credit for it. I think he could have quite a future in marketing."

"But won't Hermione kill him if he doesn't go back to school with her, with it being so far away?"

"Don't forget about Apparition, Dudley. Our dad has worked in London his entire life, but we live out here in the country. All it takes is …"

"Destination, determination, and deliberation" said Ron, stepping out of the floo. "So what's this about working at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes?"

"Heard that, did you?" asked George, grinning madly. "Well, what do you think?'

"It sounds interesting, but not right away. Hermione would kill me if I didn't go back to Hogwarts with her."

"Just like I said," Dudley chimed in enthusiastically.

"Maybe something part-time," said Ron happily, "but finishing school has to be my priority. Nothing short of saving the Wizarding World could convince Hermione to let me skive off my final year."

*****

Draco and Narcissa Malfoy stood together in the foyer of Malfoy Manor watching the forms of John Dawlish, Oliver Wood, and Kingsley Shacklebolt walking slowly away from their home. The Minister of Magic had joined the Aurors near the end of their investigation and taken the time to sit at the family's dining table to discuss the situation in which the Malfoys had landed.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Shacklebolt began, "I have been in consultation with the Chief of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and he has decided to recommend a suspended sentence be granted to Draco for his role in the plot to murder Harry Potter. This accommodation is being offered because it appears that your son may well have changed his mind at the last moment and decided to take action to thwart your husband's schemes. However, it was his duty, just as it was yours, to report such things the moment you became aware of them."

"I understand," was all that Narcissa had been able to utter in response. A suspended sentence was certainly better than imprisonment in Azkaban but might well cause Draco problems gaining employment which he might need, depending upon the remaining decisions taken by the Ministry.

"Furthermore," Kingsley had continued, "it will be recommended to the full Wizengamot that you not be charged with any crime. It is apparent that you were not directly involved, so our prosecutors feel your failure to report the plot can be more easily overlooked."

"Thank you, Minister," Narcissa whispered in response.

"I want to make it clear that the decisions were influenced significantly by Harry Potter's request that you be treated leniently due to your role in deceiving the Dark Lord in the Forbidden Forest."

Narcissa had nodded silently.

As the three figures approached the edge of the Malfoys' property, Narcissa slipped her arm gently around her son's shoulders. She hadn't embraced Draco in years, but at the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do. She was surprised to find him thin and hunched over, as if the last breath of life had been sucked from him by the events of the day.

"Are you all right, son?" she asked softly.

"Of course," came Draco's defensive response.

"It's okay. You don't have to act so strong," she added, squeezing his shoulders.

"A suspended sentence!" he huffed indignantly. "That's what I get for stopping Father!"

"Given your involvement in everything from the planning stages to the last moment defection, you're lucky they are taking such a lenient stance. You could easily have been sent to Azkaban for ten years or more. And, had you not taken action, you would be facing a life sentence."

"But now I'm left with nothing but a tarnished name!" Draco continued.

"No, Draco, you're left with everything. We're left with everything. When they decided not to prosecute me, it left everything in your father's estate to me. Everything!"

"The Ministry can't seize it?" Draco asked, amazed.

"No. It's all mine now, and the Malfoy fortune is even larger than you've ever imagined."

"More than Father told me?"

"Absolutely. Your father always thought it would go to your head if you knew how truly wealthy your family is. So, as long as you hold your tongue and keep a cool head, none of this will matter to your future."

"And without Father, I can control things properly from here on."

"No!" Narcissa snapped. "I will control the family's money from here on, at least I will until you demonstrate the good sense to stay out of political intrigue."

"So you think Father was wrong to be a Death Eater?"

"Right or wrong doesn't matter, Draco. Your father's decisions were ill-advised, at best. There may have been no way to walk away from the Dark Lord while he was striving to take over the wizarding world. Had he done so, we probably would have wound up like the Potters or the Longbottoms. But once he was gone, it was idiotic to make a move for the Elder Wand."

"Idiotic to protect blood purity?" asked Draco, stunned at his mother's reaction.

"Blood purity has always been a ruse to justify the quest for power – something that other Purebloods could identify with – something that allowed them to be controlled."

"And that's a problem, Mother?"

"Yes it is. We have our wealth and we have each other. Before long, your involvement in all this will be largely forgotten, and life can begin again. You can choose a bride and the family heritage can live on. All you have to do is learn from the mistakes of your father."

"So, what do we do first?" asked Draco quietly.

"First, we visit Horace Slughorn and try to get that damned Mark removed from your arm."

*****

Ginny shivered, feeling the combined effects of Harry's soft warm fingers and the hard cool gold of Lily Potter's necklace against the back of her neck.

Although she knew it was physically impossible, her heart felt literally filled to the bursting point with love for the young wizard who had just reiterated his pledge to spend the rest of his life loving and honoring her with all of his being. The thought simultaneously thrilled and overwhelmed her.

She stopped for a moment to contemplate this development, for prior to the attack, Harry's commitment had felt perfectly right – completely natural. After all, she had been nearly consumed with love for him since she was barely ten years old. The memory of chasing after the Hogwarts Express was as clear in her mind now that they were married as it had been only three weeks past her tenth birthday. Pausing for only a moment to take stock of the situation, Ginny tried to think of the things that had changed since earlier in the day, and she returned once again to the same problem.

"Harry," she asked softly, "are you sure?"

"Sure about what, love?" he replied.

"Sure about me. Are you absolutely sure about spending your life with me after what has happened?"

"Of course I'm sure," answered Harry, obviously shaken by this sudden display of insecurity from his wife.

"I'm completely serious, Ginny. I know we've talked about wanting children, but I don't need them to be happy as long as I'm with you."

"And you're sure it's me? After all, you're already a Weasley and have been for years," Ginny continued, fully aware that her mother had already addressed these fears, yet needing to hear the answer from Harry. She hated feeling insecure and despised looking needy more than anything she could imagine. Nevertheless, Harry's sudden and unexpected return, his feigned death and stunning victory over the Dark Lord, the whirlwind proposal, an unexpected pregnancy and devastating miscarriage had left her reeling emotionally. It was not something Ginny Weasley was accustomed to feeling.

Her vision was riveted upon Harry's brilliant green eyes as she waited for his response. The lump in her throat told her unequivocally how afraid she was of the answer to her question, while her intellect scolded her for being needlessly, ridiculously insecure. Harry was obviously contemplating something, for he stood there silently, swallowing hard while his eyes glistened with building moisture until a single tear slid down his cheek.

At last, Harry smiled gently and whispered, "That's funny, because I thought this was about you becoming a Potter."

"What?" gasped Ginny.

Harry gathered her into his arms and began pressing soft kisses on her forehead and along her eyebrows.

"I know I've been as good as a son to your parents for years and Ron's been every bit of a brother to me since first year. Please, Ginny, don't ever confuse what I feel for you with the fact that you are a Weasley."

The tension that had been gripping Ginny drained from her body almost instantly while her practical, headstrong nature began chastising her for being so weak. Merlin, she hated to look so stupid. However, the look in Harry's eyes told her that he was gazing at a vision, not a silly, insecure girl.

"Ginny, neither of us is perfect, but if I sat down to design a woman who was perfect for me, she would be you. You're everything I want and could ever imagine wanting, and it may sound stupid but, from the first moment we kissed, and probably for a long time before that, I haven't even been able to look at another woman. You, Mrs. Potter, are everything to me and you always will be."