This is the last chapter! Thank you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing! I hope you'll enjoy this last bit!

Epilogue

Three months later

"I think I'm going to throw up." Perhaps Ron thought if he kept saying that, someone would eventually care about his righteous indignation.

"Well, I told you not to have triple helpings of pudding, didn't I," Hermione said with no little satisfaction.

"It's not the pudding," said Ron, who'd always been an emotional eater. He cast a dark look at the man who lounged against the sink, sniggering into one of Molly Weasley's good tea cups. "You had to bring him, did you," Ron said scornfully to his sister. "The prank's getting old, Ginny, it's been three months, enough is enough."

"Don't be silly, Ron, you don't want your only sister to become an old maid, do you?" Ginny asked cheerfully. She cooed at her two-month-old nephew, Hugo, who was clutching fistfuls of her hair and grinning toothlessly at her. "I was this close to becoming Auntie Muriel. You should be happy for me."

"Delighted," Ron growled. Draco hadn't stopped laughing in Ron's face since he and Ginny had dropped in on the Weasleys' Sunday lunch and Ron had almost choked to death on his Brussels sprouts. After that, they'd made it through pudding without further incident though, so Ginny considered their visit to the Burrow a smashing success.

She handed the baby back to Hermione and crossed the room to steal a sip from Draco's teacup. He tucked Ginny under his arm when she sidled up to him, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

Ron was turning a lovely shade of puce.

"Ron, the baby needs changing," Hermione suggested.

"Is it my turn again? Oh." The shit literally kept piling up for poor Ron. Ginny bit back her giggles until Ron had taken the baby to the bathroom to change.

"I'm sorry," she told Hermione, laughing. "Maybe we shouldn't have come by unannounced, it was a spur of the moment thing, and I really wanted to see Hugo again-"

"No, no, it's all right." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ronald just needs to grow up and learn to cope."

"Never thought we'd agree on anything, Granger, but there you go," Draco said.

"It's Mrs Granger-Weasley, unless you'd like to start calling me Hermione," she told him. "And to make things clear, Draco, I get to make fun of my husband; you don't."

The two of them stared at each other for a long, tense moment, until Draco snorted and actually dropped his gaze. "Fair enough."

"As long as we understand each other," Hermione said with dignity, and went to assist her husband when Ron started yelling about a diaper explosion.

Little feet came trampling through, Ron and Hermione's toddler, Rose, chasing her older cousins Victoire, Dominique and Louis through the kitchen. They ran outside, laughing, followed by Molly Weasley, who came huffing and puffing down the stairs. "Don't you go running through my flower beds! Louis, put your shoes back on!" She looked at Ginny and Draco, wringing her hands even as she hurried after the children. "Oh, Ginny, I wish you'd come by on a quieter day, we haven't had a minute to sit down and talk-"

"That's okay, mum." Ginny had purposefully picked a day when her mother babysat, and she wasn't sorry. It had been no secret that she and Draco were shacking up at her place - the gossip rags wouldn't stop writing about it - but it was one thing for her parents to know, and another thing entirely for her to bring him along for a visit. A bit of distraction by the children couldn't hurt, although his first impression had surely suffered under all the chaos. For the most part, he'd been happy enough though, especially after Molly had served up her homemade scones with tea.

"We'll make plans, perhaps dad and I can visit you in Hogsmeade next week," Molly said, slipping on her garden clogs by the door. "It's such a pity that you're going back to school already-" The door fell shut behind her. Outside, they could hear her shout, "Oh, Harry, how lovely to see you! I kept a plate warm for you in the oven."

"Oh, it's Potter. How nice," Draco said, but his attempts at sarcasm had fallen pretty flat lately.

"You're losing your touch," Ginny told him, grinning. "You sound all friendly and genuine."

He shuddered. "I'm out of practice. It's time we went back to Hogwarts. I need to punish some students."

Harry, of course, looked less than thrilled to see Ginny with Draco, and blocking the way to his lunch plate no less, when he stepped through the door, but he managed a halfway polite nod. "Hey. How's it going, Ginny?"

"Oh, splendid," Draco answered instead, and though he was laying it on thick, there was nothing insincere about his cheer for once. "Never better."

Harry, too, seemed to recognise this, even as he said, "I didn't ask you, Malfoy." He glanced back and forth between Draco and Ginny, but if he saw anything that displeased him, it was only how ridiculously Ginny was glowing, red-cheeked and beaming. "You just can't help it, can you," he told her, jerking his head in Draco's direction as if he was a gaudy new piece of decoration.

"No," she said. "Save it, I've already been through this with Ron," and Harry knew her well enough to respect that stern tone of voice.

He gave a gamely shrug. "Well, if anyone's going to smack some sense into him-"

"I'm standing right here, Potter," Draco said indignantly.

"It's just the truth," Harry said.

Ginny laughed. "Should I feel flattered?"

"Sure," Harry said, and then he actually cracked a grin. "Personally, I can't wait to see you whip him into shape. Can I have my lunch now?"

Ginny didn't need his blessing, but it would've been too much to pretend that she didn't care what he thought of her. He'd been her first love, but only now, from the vantage point of a new life, could she look back at what had been with fondness. They were friends. Nothing more, and nothing less.

"Lunch? That's all you care about?" came the voice of Ron, who really had no room to talk. "Harry! That's bollocks!"

"It's just your son," Hermione said calmly. "Here, look, I've shown you a hundred times. This is the spell to stop the diaper leaking..."

Ginny shoved Draco aside gently to clear the way to Harry's plate in the oven, and he tucked into his lunch like a starving man, Molly's rosemary potatoes seemingly reconciling him with the world's wrongs. "Teddy's been spending some time with me while his grandmother's been busy," he told Ginny happily between bites. "It's nice, the house isn't so quiet with him there. I think Mrs Tonks won't mind if I set up a room for him at the new place."

"You're really selling the house?" Ginny sat down across from him at the table, feeling Draco hover behind her. Harry glanced at Draco and rolled his eyes, and she bit back a laugh.

"Yeah, it's too big for one, and I can't have Molly coming over to clean every week. I've looked at a few nice places in Diagon Alley," Harry said.

"That's great," Ginny said sincerely.

"The house? You mean the one in Grimmauld Place?" Draco was appalled. "Potter, please tell me you're not really planning to sell the homestead of countless generations of Blacks to some random nobody?"

Harry looked wounded. "Sirius would've understood."

Draco made a gesture that indicated what he thought about Sirius. "He shouldn't have broken the entail in the first place, the house was always meant to go to the next male in line-"

"Well, that's just too bad, isn't it," Harry said.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "You do realise that you're passing over Ted, too, don't you?"

That gave Harry pause. "I... Mrs Tonks wouldn't want it for him, I don't think. I've offered her money-"

"And insulted her horribly in the process, I'm sure," Draco snorted. He actually sat down at the kitchen table with Harry and Ginny, apparently deeming this topic important enough to grace Harry with his company. "She and Ted are going to be provided for now, what with the new shop and all, but still. If I can't have the house, fine, give it to them, it's the next best thing."

Harry growled something through his potatoes that might've been grudging assent.

"What's going on with our case, Harry?" Ginny asked, steering the conversation back to less controversial matters.

"The trial date's set for Dolce – well, his real name is Smith. And I got the results back from the laboratory, Professor Singh really was poisoned with Nightshade like his mother said." He nodded towards Malfoy. "One of the kids confessed to doing it under the influence of Imperius, an Eric Hathaway?"

"Hathaway!" Malfoy sucked a breath in through his teeth. "Oh, I'm going to have words-"

"You can't, he left school," Ginny reminded him.

"It wasn't his fault," Harry continued. "Oh, and a special task force is now looking into the use of additives in food and drink at Honeydukes. Anyway, I wrote up my final report today. Case closed."

"Where are our medals? Our commendations from the Minister of Magic for finishing the culprit?" Draco asked.

"Ginny got seriously hurt, Malfoy," Harry said as if Draco hadn't been helping her over the past few months while she was on the mend. "You're lucky you didn't get killed. If anything like this ever happens again – and we're talking about Hogwarts, so who knows – don't get mixed up in it."

"You're not the boss of me," Draco said.

"No, that's McGonagall, and I'm sure she'd agree with me," Harry said dryly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Bloody Gryffindors, always sticking together."

Ginny smacked him playfully, satisfied when he winced. Her arm was better than it had been in years after it had been properly set and healed again; she packed a punch now. It would be fun to be coaching the Quidditch teams in the new school year. "I thought we did a pretty good job of demonstrating house unity. Don't you agree, Harry?"

Harry sighed like it pained him to draw breath. Behind the bathroom door, Ron could be heard murmuring something rude, and then Hermione's voice going, "Shh!" Ginny bit back a grin.

Harry and Draco stared at each other for a few long moments; then Harry cleared his throat. "I suppose you did all right."

"Your condescension warms my heart, Potter." Draco watched Harry closely as if he expected Harry to feint and sock him any second now.

"Don't let it go to your head, it's big enough," Harry said, straight-faced; reflexively, Draco retorted, "Like you're one to talk," and for the two of them, that probably counted as friendly conversation.

"A girl might get jealous," Ginny said later, as they walked hand in hand up the grassy hill to their Apparation point. It was getting late in the afternoon, and the sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over rustling crops. A summery haze enveloped the land like a warm embrace. She glanced sideways at Draco and felt full to bursting with good cheer. "I know you only mock because you care."

"No, that only applies to you. I couldn't care less about anyone else," he said, and laughed when Ginny stopped right then and there to pull him close and thoroughly snog him.

"Can we go now?" he asked with a long-suffering sigh upon breaking apart and discovering that they were standing in horse dung. "Between your brother, the rude boor, and this, I think I've had enough of country life for the day."

He was still muttering complaints under his breath when they materialised in Diagon Alley, right in front of the lavishly decorated storefront of the newly-opened Cepheus Black And Sons Apothecary. It was getting late, but customers were still crowding the salesroom, drawn in by the large posters that promised new, effective love potions and a steep discount on frog eggs, Only today!.

Inside, they found almost empty shelves. Behind the register, Narcissa Malfoy was personally observing as the manager counted out gold coins in stacks of ten. She looked up and smiled at her son. "You came, how nice."

"We couldn't miss the grand opening, could we." Draco leaned back with his elbows braced against the edge of the counter and watched the sales assistants rush in and out of the storage room at the back like busy bees.

"Looks like it's been a good day for selling potions," Ginny observed. After Narcissa had realised that meddling in her son's relationship was useless, she'd thrown her considerable energy and resources into this new project, which seemed entirely more likely to succeed than her attempts to set Draco up with a woman who was not Ginny.

"It has been. Andromeda flooed, apparently the turnout in the Hogsmeade branch was just as good. I'm quite pleased," Narcissa nodded, and though her eyes flickered over Ginny's simple dress in that arrogant way of hers, she didn't seem to find fault with anything today. "That is a very pretty necklace you're wearing, Ginevra."

Ginny touched the ruby pendant at her throat and couldn't resist. "It's just a little something that I bought for myself."

"It's lovely." Narcissa regarded her pile of gold with pride. "I must say, I'm enjoying this."

"Granddad Abraxas is probably spinning in his grave," Draco grinned.

"I hope so," Narcissa said to appalled looks from the manager. She glared at the man, and he coughed uncomfortably and excused himself. "If anyone ever deserved a restless afterlife, it's my dear father-in-law."

"Mother, the issue of putting Malfoy money towards a Black business aside, you are aware that it makes no sense to invest in two competing apothecaries?" Draco said, but he was smiling like he didn't mind the potential loss of Galleons overmuch.

"This isn't just a business, it's a family tradition." Narcissa took up a quill and parchment and began to draw up a table of the day's earnings. Here and there, she put down a comment for the manager, who was supposedly to be left in charge of the day-to-day business, but would likely be nothing more than Narcissa's personal slave. Ginny suspected that Mrs Malfoy would keep a close eye on this brainchild of hers, just like she did on her real baby. "And if the ancestors rise from their graves over this… Well, I suppose it'll keep your father from getting bored while I'm busy."

Draco laughed. "May we take you out for a celebratory drink?"

"You may not." They all turned to see the crowd parting as Lucius Malfoy came striding up to the counter. He didn't appear quite as intimidating as Ginny remembered him from her childhood, white-haired and aged as he was, but his haughty face looked forbidding enough yet to make people scatter. Still, after a recent encounter that had been extremely embarrassing for everyone involved, Ginny only felt the overwhelming urge to laugh whenever she saw the man. She gave Draco a pointed look, but he was carefully avoiding her eyes.

"I seem to recall that I was promised I wouldn't be dining alone," Mr Malfoy said, watching his wife performing a few Arithmantic spells that had the numbers in her tables add themselves to a nice sum at the bottom of the page.

"Lucius," she said calmly. "I wasn't expecting you. You said you didn't want to come out today to witness the 'pandemonium'." She looked up at him, smiling. "Were you curious after all?"

"Perhaps." He glanced around at the empty shelves and the coins Narcissa was now sweeping into a large pouch. "It looks like you've got things under control."

"Did you doubt it?" she sniffed.

"No," he said, and the disdainful expression he wore softened ever so slightly. "I've come to fetch you; I thought the occasion called for more than just dinner at home."

Narcissa's face lit up with surprise, remindful of an expression that Ginny had learned to cherish on Draco, for it wasn't one that he, or his mother, wore often. "Did you now?"

"Are you almost finished? I don't like to rub elbows with the plebs."

"I'll just need a minute to transfigure my dress." Narcissa disappeared into the backroom with no undue haste, lest anyone think she was excited, but the way she snapped orders at the poor salesgirls could almost be called cheery.

"You know, Father, I've been thinking," Draco said, "We should sell our shares in Slug and Jiggers Apothecary. It's really not wise to bet against mother."

Lucius's lips twitched. "Come by the Manor next week; we'll go over the portfolio."

"We'll floo before we drop by," Ginny piped up, sniggering into her fist as both Malfoy men glared at her.

"Please do," was all Draco's father deigned to say, but the indignant twist of his mouth was gratifying.

"We'll be off," Draco said to his mother, who had returned in an elaborate evening gown transfigured from her smart business robes. He leaned over the counter to kiss her cheek. "Have fun, Mum."

"I intend to," she said, and her smile was nothing short of frightening.

"You're disgusting," Draco said, squeezing Ginny's hand hard as they walked down Diagon Alley towards her flat.

"Sorry," she lied, laughing. "Your mother seemed happy."

"She did. My father was unconvinced about this project of hers, but I think it's great," Draco said, his frown giving way to a much more cheerful expression.

"Don't tell me you've developed a taste for honest work?" Ginny teased.

"Nah. But I'm all for my mother keeping too busy to pay much attention to me." He looked at Ginny and smiled. "Your place?"

Ginny had bought the flat years ago with her Quidditch money. It had seemed like a good investment, but she'd hardly ever stayed there and it had had that bare, unoccupied feel about it until they'd moved in at the beginning of this summer. She'd practised her healing wand arm charming the wallpaper in the living room different colours until she and Draco could agree on a pale grey, and her swishes and flicks were as practised and easy as they'd once been. Gradually, she'd begun to decorate, he'd 'forgotten' more and more of his things, and suddenly they'd found themselves developing a routine of fighting for the newspaper over breakfast in bed, strolling through London in the afternoon, and getting to know each other in all new, pleasurable ways at night. It was a pretty good arrangement, Ginny had decided; one that she could get used to.

"Sounds good," she said, and leaned in to whisper, "I can't wait to be alone with you."

Draco grinned. "Why's that?"

"Well." Ginny licked her lips, feeling him tense ever so slightly as she pressed closer to his side and whispered, "We'd be the talk of the town if I ripped your clothes off right here like I want to."

He still wasn't used to an honest compliment, and his surprise made her want to tell him over and over again; it was fun to see Draco flustered. She watched colour rise in his pale cheeks as he struggled to retain wit enough for a belated repartee.

If she'd known this was the way to render him speechless, well; perhaps they would've come together sooner. She could've used her allure on him like she had on other men to smooth over all the deficiencies of their relationship, and it would've been epic and world-shaking, but then they wouldn't find themselves here now, her hand in his and Draco smiling like he'd learned to only for her. Every day they'd spent circling each other, figuring each other out, belonged to the peculiar relationship that now carried them through even when they weren't busy shagging each other's brains out. Ginny enjoyed it, much as she liked shagging him, too.

She drew breath to voice that thought, but he found her lips with his before she could say a word, and she realised she didn't have to: he knew how she felt, because he felt the same.

"You're playing unfairly," she complained as they broke apart, breathless and smiling. "I was about to finish you."

"You couldn't hope to finish me, Weasley," he scoffed. "I just allow you to seduce me."

What was that about a pity snog, again? Feeling very much like laughing, Ginny said, "Malfoy, you're so good to me, you really know how to make a woman feel appreciated-"

He was kissing her again, and Ginny giggled against his lips, and shut up. They stood in the middle of Diagon Alley, not noticing the crowd that swayed around them. "Come on," he murmured, kissing at a sensitive spot just below her ear. "I'll make you feel appreciated."

They all but ran back to the house and up the stairs to the flat, which was at the top of the building. It was a bright, spacious place with a roof garden and a lovely view over London, but they had eyes only for each other now as they stumbled over the threshold and knocked over the coat rack. Ginny's heel caught in the abundant fabric of one of Draco's travelling cloaks, and they tumbled down into a pile of coats together.

"Oof!" Ginny made, and laughed. He'd caught himself above her, careful not to rest any weight on her right shoulder, and she laid her hands on his chest, smiling up at him. "How'd we end up here, huh?"

Draco shrugged as if that was a stupid question and the answer was obvious. "You fell and dragged me down with you."

"No, you fell."

"No, you."

She smiled. A case could be made for either or both of them falling, head over heels, over the carpet just now and for each other, but how it had happened, she still couldn't say. It just had, in the same way that the stars just happened to align and the sun happened to rise in the mornings, nothing less than the very purpose of the universe. "It's our last night," she said softly, pushing him back so she could climb to her feet and take his hand. "Let's make it count."

Later, they lay in bed together in a sweaty heap, curled around each other on top of rumpled sheets. "Do you think it's going to get boring?" Draco asked. "You know, after a year or ten?"

Ginny felt weightless, her body humming with the aftershocks of pleasure, moving warm and smooth and slick as she raised her head to look at him. She, too, had wondered whether too much harmony would kill the excitement of their togetherness; they couldn't argue while they were kissing, and they'd been kissing a lot even by her standards, but so far, the secret thrill she felt whenever they were together hadn't worn off.

"Time's got nothing to do with it, think of your parents," she said, fully aware that she was being evil.

Groaning, Draco buried his face in her hair, as if hiding from reality would make it, in turn, hide from him. "Let's never drop by their place again unexpectedly."

"Oh, I think it's nice that they're still having fun, I hope my parents-"

"Stop! Obliviate isn't good enough, I don't need those mental images!" He raised his head to let her witness the full effect of his pout.

Ginny laughed long and hard, and her amusement must've been contagious, for his scowl gave way to a slow smile as he watched her. "You're evil, witch. No one cares what I suffer."

"I care. But I'm still going to laugh at you," she grinned. She twisted around until she was sprawled on top of him, and outlined the sharp angles of his face with her fingertips. "Can we just stay like this?"

"Sure; we're both rich. Well, I'm rich, you're fairly well off." He pressed a kiss to her neck, and Ginny shivered. "Actually, we don't ever have to leave the house. We could keep doing this forever."

"You don't really want that," she gasped, even as she clung to him.

"I don't know. Right now, it seems like a great idea."

"Who'd take care of the students?"

"Weasley, would you stop being sensible?" he whined. "I can dream, can't I."

She laughed. "Think of all the sneaking around we'll be doing at the school. It'll be exciting."

"I suppose Hogwarts needs its scandal du jour." The thought seemed to reconcile him with the idea.

Ginny nodded. "We can meet up in the middle between your dungeon and my tower. I know a cosy broom cupboard up on the third floor-"

"You're not much of a romantic, are you."

"We fit, then."

"Yeah, I suppose."

He could smirk and profess to only shallow feelings, but when he kissed her, it was with a tenderness that betrayed him. His hands flexed at her hips, drawing her in more closely before he rolled them over to wrap himself protectively around her, and Ginny petted the damp hair at the nape of his neck, knowing that he craved the closeness not because he thought her fragile, but because he was.

She smiled. She had expected some possessiveness from him; what she hadn't expected was that she'd enjoy the mad zeal of his adoration. Draco never did anything in half measure, and his love burned bright and hot with the fire of a thousand suns, just like his hatred once had. Either one of them could be all-consuming, and it would've terrified her if those feelings hadn't been rooted in the cold, hard truth of their shared history, in all their failures and the hardships they'd inflicted on each other. They'd seen each other at their worst, and they'd still ended up here.

It might not be romantic, Ginny thought, but it was more beautiful than a fairytale ending, because it was real.

"Hey, I..." Draco began, the words muffled as he buried his face in her hair. Ginny felt his hot cheek pressing against her neck and waited him out, having recently learned that there was a time for patience just as there was a time to push and challenge him. "I've had worse summers," he said, snapping his teeth at her neck on the same breath.

Ginny took that to mean he was happy. "Me too," she smiled. She'd have a bruise where he was sucking her skin between his teeth, but she could always cover up the mark with a charm; or not.

"I think not-dating is working out well for us," he murmured, and then, in a rush like he was scared he'd run out of time or maybe courage, "I think we should not-date indefinitely."

She pretended to hesitate only just long enough to keep things interesting. "Okay," she said simply, and turned her head to kiss the frown off his face. "D'you want a sandwich?"

"Cucumber," said Draco, who suddenly looked extremely pleased.

"Make some tea, will you." Ginny detached herself just long enough to crawl to the foot of the bed and wrap herself in her dressing gown, but he held on to her again as she padded into the kitchen to prepare a snack.

"I suppose you are going to need me when we take the kids on that student exchange to Beauxbatons over Easter," he said smugly. "Your French is lousy."

That was shamefully true. Ginny could already see herself in some eatery in Paris, being served frog legs because she'd be at the mercy of Draco's translations. The trip was a disaster waiting to happen, which of course meant that he was looking forward to it like a child to Christmas.

Ginny glanced back at him fussily preparing a pot of tea and couldn't for the life of her imagine that she'd ever get tired of this.

"What is this thing?" he complained as the teapot slipped through his grasp, hopping off across the table as Ginny had charmed it to do that morning, which had resulted in a lot of whining and subsequent snogging, because that was the only way to shut Draco up. "Tea is no laughing matter, Weasley. Cut it out!"

Laughing, she pointed her wand at the teapot to lift the charm. "Bring your own if you don't like this one."

"Bring my teapot?" he asked, not looking up at her as he poured steaming water from the tip of his wand. "Are you asking me to move in?"

She set a knife to chopping up the cucumber, her eyes on Draco. "I thought you lived here?"

He glanced up through the fringe of his hair and saw her smiling at him. "I don't recall an official invitation."

"Well, you're practically homeless now that your parents have kicked you out-"

At that, he set aside the teapot and came over to trap her against the table, his arms braced on either side of her. "My parents didn't kick me out, I left them to their licentious doings."

Ginny giggled. "It'd be inhumane not to take you in."

"Charity? Is that what this is?" Sneakily, he slipped one hand between her legs under her robe, slowly stroking up along her inner thigh.

Ginny bit the inside of her cheek. "Yes," she gasped, clenching her legs around his hand to keep it in place, right there. "Charity. That's it."

"I never saw the point," he said conversationally even as he continued to touch her with maddening surety. "But you make it look worthwhile."

"It's all about the joy of giving," Ginny choked out.

Chuckling, he pulled away, but only so he could lift her up to sit on the table. "I'm ready to give," he drawled, nudging her knees apart. "I'll give you whatever you want."

Where to start? - Ginny still wasn't sure, but it was beginning to get clearer. Oh, yes.