A/N: Welcome to the beginning of the end, ladies and gents. I hope you've enjoyed the ride.

A good portion of the year passed without circumstance. I told my mother, father, and Severus about my condition as Ginny's guardian angel. Father was overjoyed, mother was delighted, and Severus…he didn't seem surprised. I was pleased with the overall reaction to the news.

Time flew quickly after Voldemort's defeat. Potter, Ginny, Hermione, the Weas—Ron, and myself were all given Order of Merlin, First Class—as was Severus, whose name was now cleared due to his extensive work as a spy. My father and mother, however, were forced into hiding for quite some time, until a rather large donation to the Ministry from my father had his record wiped clean.

Countless faithful Death Eaters were locked up in Azkaban; I lost track of who after so many names ran through the headlines. The ranks of the Slytherins in my year were severely diminished due to the fact that many of their parents had stowed them away with obscure relatives. I got extremely short, choppy, grammatically incorrect letters from Crabbe and Goyle for a while until they came back to school just in time to graduate.

Ginny and I were a couple from the moment we awoke in my bedroom together. For a while, we were the hottest topic of discussion at mealtimes. However, we stayed together long enough for the talk to die down. It seemed that we would be one of the castle's few lasting relationships.

I passed my N.E.W.T.s with flying colors, and before I knew what was happening, I had graduated from Hogwarts. I was also a witness as the Wea—Ron proposed to Hermione that very same day. Ginny was overjoyed that Hermione would be her sister at long last.

I wondered what would become of the two of us, considering Ginny still had a year of school left. She told me not to worry about it and invited me to stay with her at the Burrow over the summer, especially considering I couldn't go home safely.

It was a summer of laziness and bliss, filled with tender words and sweet promises—ones I hoped I would be able to keep. The mere thought of losing Ginny was painful. Now that I had her, there was no way I was going to let her go.

All too soon, the summer ended, and Ginny was headed back to school. I was left to my own devices, the Malfoy fortune at my fingertips. In the end, I took up residence in Hogsmeade and watched from afar as Ginny blossomed even further into her beauty. She took every chance she could to come visit me, and although those moments together were brief, they were always full of understanding, acceptance, and unconditional love.

I lived in a modest flat in Hogsmeade in which I passed time by continuing to draw. At first I did it just because it filled the time and because it gave me something to think about besides Ginny; one day, however, I was drawing in a dark corner of the Three Broomsticks when Madame Rosmerta saw my sketch and offered to pay me to fill a large blank space on her wall with something suitable. I agreed and set to work.

After she hung my commission inside, I got countless other requests, and before I knew what had happened, my hobby had become a small business.

Ginny's last school year seemed to drag on forever for me. I couldn't wait for her to be done with Hogwarts, so that we could really begin our lives.

Finally, after what seemed to be far too long, she graduated. The first thing I did was kiss her and invite her to come and live in my flat with me. Her mother, however, happened to be nearby. She dragged me off and lectured me about how I had best not hurt her only daughter. The We—Ron threatened me, too, though I think I was more frightened of Mrs. Weasley.

Ginny moved into my flat and did extensive research into careers. I told her countless times that she had no need to worry about a thing; I had more than enough money to support the both of us. But that wouldn't content her, and although she did go along with it for a while, she soon became restless and when I came home one day from delivering a sketch, she was gone.

I was devastated.

For two agonizing months my flat was devastatingly empty. She had left everything I had bought her behind, which was even more upsetting. It seemed that everywhere I turned there was something that reminded me of her.

At long last, there was a knock on my door. When I opened it, Ginny stood there waiting, and explained to me that although I was more than capable of taking care of the both of us, she had come to realize she wasn't comfortable with being entirely dependent upon me. She had taken a job in, of all things, modeling. I could see what even two months in the field had done for her—it had taught her how to flaunt her own beauty, to the point where she seemed to be glowing. She told me that living with me before had gotten her used to modeling, and all of my compliments on her beauty had made her aware of it. With the confidence being my lover had given her, she had walked out my door and into a new chapter of her life.

She said she was finally ready to live up to what I'd always said about her. She believed that until then, she hadn't been most of the things I had called her: beautiful, attractive, confident, independent…the list went on. But she said she was ready to be what I saw in her, ready to really live with me.

Her job as a model gave us a great many chances to travel and see the world. We visited every place we could think of to go, and some we'd never heard of, sharing every moment together.

One night in Paris, while we were standing together on our balcony overlooking the city, I asked Ginny to marry me. I can't say I was surprised when she turned me down, her reasons being that she didn't need a church full of people, an elaborate ceremony, and a load of money wasted to confirm the fact that she loved me.

I agreed, and despite a few protests, I finally convinced her that the world should know that we belonged solely to one another. With a few whispered words in another dark hotel room, I slid a ring on her finger, and she one on mine. It was our quiet, subversive way of warning off anyone who had any ideas.

After a few years of traveling, Ginny grew weary of the glamour and glitz of the modeling business, and she retired. We returned home to my flat, which was now our flat, and lived in peace and quiet until my father passed away, leaving me in control of the family fortune.

After we discovered that Ginny was pregnant, we had a house built in Hogsmeade. Hermione, who was teaching Arithmancy up at Hogwarts, came to visit us often, always bringing her husband, Hogwarts' newest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, with her. Ginny loved being able to visit with her brother and sister-in-law so often; I was glad we had chosen the location we did for our new home.

After a set of twin girls and a boy, we decided not to have any more children, much to the disappointment of Mrs. Weasley, who was still unsatisfied after every single one of her boys all had at least two children.

If Ginny had thought her elder brothers had been bad, our girls were far worse. Ron aptly nicknamed them the "Walking Terrorists." It didn't help that their twin uncles loved spending time with them.

Each of our children received their letters when they turned eleven; as the two of us watched them all grow, living through the drama of our son deciding he was gay and our daughters fighting over a boy, Ginny and I came to realize that while parenthood had its joys, it also had its horrors.

I spent more than one evening trying to comfort Ginny as she went into hysterics over our adventurous daughter's trials and tribulations, including several broken bones, a brief coma, and countless black eyes and chipped or missing teeth. She went on to become a professional Quidditch player, while her twin sister played it safe (safer, anyway) by following in her grandfather's footsteps working for the Ministry in the Department of Muggle Artifacts. Our son ended up taking over my business.

We watched with pride as they all grew, and continued to offer our support when they needed it most, offering financial aid when the Ministry ran out of funding for the beloved department our dear daughter worked for, and opening our arms for our son when his lover left him. Through it all, Ginny and I remained as close as ever.

Our children were all successful, and we were happy for them as our daughters got married and had children of their own, and as our son settled down with a young man who was just as adventurous as his father, Harry Potter, had been.

My only fear lurked behind every door: at any moment I might cease to exist. It was overshadowed, however, when Ginny was taken ill. I spent every waking moment at her bedside, and when it became apparent that she would not be cured, I took her back home and cared for her myself.

I held her fragile body in my old arms, and held her hands as she slept. When she breathed her last, I was right there, whispering, "I love you," in her ear.

We passed out of this life together.

I never imagined nonexistence would be so sweet.

THE END

A/N: Keep your hands and arms inside the boat until it comes to a complete stop. Thank you for riding. You may get off now.

Goodbye!