Alas, it is the last (hey that rhymes) chapter. Savor it, bunnies. I hope you had as much fun as I did.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Christo was dead. Draco found him after the battle was over. There was not a scratch on him—but then, the Killing Curse left no marks. Or so Draco told me. I received the news with surprisingly few tears. I was numb inside. I had killed—how many? How many of those people, regardless of their allegiance, had had family and friends who would mourn their deaths? Why should I escape unscathed?

But Christo was dead.

When Draco told me, I quietly asked him to give me some time alone and lay down in my—our—bed, staring at the ceiling. He had been so excited about fighting. He had tried to act serious and solemn for Draco, but he was a young man, after all. Dying for a little bit of adventure and excitement.

Draco had tried to warn him, tried to impress upon him the danger of the situation. But Christo just didn't—I stopped myself. Christo had known what he was getting into. I believed Draco had gotten through to him. But Christo did it anyway. He died for what he believed in, I told myself firmly. He was a brave, selfless man. Not a thoughtless boy. He had known what he was getting into. I was proud of him.

But the fact remained that Christo was dead.

Oh, God, what was I going to tell Yiayia? My family—how could I explain to all of them what had happened? Yiayia and his immediate family at least could know the truth. But what about the others? What could I tell them? He had died in a car crash? There wasn't a scratch on him. Heart failure? What?

There was a knock on the door and Draco let himself in. He sat on the bed and smoothed my hair back.

"How are you doing?" he asked, brushing his lips across my forehead.

"When are the dead being buried?" I asked.

"Soon," he said, looking surprised. "A huge funeral pyre is being prepared. It will probably be ready in a few days—that will give their families time to get here."

"I need you to do something," I told him. "Not right now—I need to talk to you about something."

"What do you need?" he asked.

"You have to make sure that each of the dead has two gold coins with them when they're laid to rest," I said. "To pay the Boatman."

"What? What boatman?"

I explained about Charon and the build-up of souls who hadn't had anything to pay him with. Then I told him about the deal I struck with Hades for the Horcrux and for Sirius. And for the souls stuck outside. How I had given our unborn child to pay their fare. Draco didn't say anything. But that was alright, because I had more to say. I had to say it all.

"I won't pretend it was selflessness on my part," I said softly, staring at my hands. "It was entirely selfish—or almost entirely. I did promise them, but...I would have done it, regardless. I'm not ready to have a baby, Draco."

"You gave it to him," Draco said, voice devoid of emotion. "Knowingly. Gladly, even."

"Not gladly," I said honestly. "But with relief."

"You were relieved to kill our child?" Draco demanded, a flicker of anger showing. "Relieved? Ari, you killed it."

"I couldn't do it," I snapped. "I never wanted a baby. If it weren't for you, I would have found a way—herbs, potions, anything—to get rid of it. I just—couldn't, Draco. I'm not ready for a baby. And neither are you."

"I can't believe you," he said slowly, shaking his head. He got up and backed away from me. "I can't believe you're saying this. I knew you were nervous, but—you killed it, Ari. How could you do that? It was your baby—I thought women--"

"Maybe if you were around more often you could believe it," I snapped. "You were never here to see how much it cost me not to stab myself in the belly just to get rid of it. You don't understand, Draco—you can't understand. You didn't have this—this thing inside you. What kind of mother gives birth to a child she doesn't want? What kind of a life could that child lead? I'm eighteen, Draco. I should be graduating from high school. Did you know that two of my students are older than me? I'm not ready to have a baby!"

"But you killed--"

"How many people have you killed?" I demanded. "How many sons and fathers and brothers? You made a living out of death so stop being so self-righteous. You're acting like Potter, for God's sake."

"What I did, I did to protect my mother," Draco said, his voice dangerously soft. "I did it to protect my family—all the family I had. That child was supposed to be part of ours."

"It wouldn't have been," I said flatly. "It couldn't have been. I didn't want it. I don't want a baby, Draco—maybe I will someday, but not anytime soon. When I have a baby, I want to be able to love it. I won't bring an unwanted child into this world."

Draco collapsed into a chair and rested his head in his hands. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were so excited," I whispered, tears pricking at my eyes. "I tried, Draco. You have to know that. I tried to accept it. I tried to love it. I tried to be happy—for you. But I couldn't."

"I thought I knew you," Draco murmured. "I never would have thought you could do something like this."

"I guess we don't know much about each other at all, really," I said, swallowing heavily. "Most of our time together was a lie."

"It wasn't a lie," Draco said sharply. "I just—couldn't tell you everything."

"Anything," I corrected him. "I didn't know a thing about you until after we left England. You deceived me, lied to me. To protect me, yes, but it was still a lie. But I thought..."

I sighed and smiled. It wobbled precariously, but it held.

"We were really dumb, huh?" I whispered.

Draco was silent for a long time.

"Maybe," he admitted. He cleared his throat. "You should get some rest."

"Draco, wait," I sat up quickly. "What—what happens now?"

"I don't know," he said, and laughed bitterly. "What can we do? We're stuck with each other."

"Stuck...?" I stared at him. "We're not stuck. We just can't be with anyone else. We don't—we don't have to stay together. I mean, we can..."

"Do you want to?" he asked dully.

I stared at him for a long moment and looked away. "You think I was wrong."

"Yes."

"Can you forgive me, do you think?"

Draco stared blindly at his hands. "I don't know, Ari."

"I can't live with that, Draco," I said quietly.

"Can't or won't?" Draco asked, sneering a little.

"You're right," I said coldly. "I could live with it, but I won't. I don't want to spend every day feeling like I have to make it up to you. I did what I had to do. Maybe it was wrong, but I still had to do it."

"So that's it, then?" Draco asked heavily.

"I guess so," I said. I got slowly to my feet.

"You don't have to leave," he protested, getting up from the chair. "I'll go."

"No," I said. "You stay—you have business to finish. I'm going. There's nothing for me here."

I walked quickly out the door, through the doors, and out of the castle. I changed and ran into the hills behind Hogsmeade, where I found the cave we had slept in. It seemed so long ago. I turned away and headed farther into the hills. Then I changed back. I sat for a long time, staring at nothing. I didn't cry. I didn't feel anything.

Who could have guessed it would end this way? Love conquers all, right? Apparently not. Draco and I loved each other—that much was true. But now—was it my fault for making the choice? Was it his, for not accepting it? It was my choice to make. My body that was hosting an internal parasite. But the baby was his, too. It was his seed that had been eating up my insides. That was why it was a sacrifice, just like Hades said. Not giving up the baby—never that. But in giving up the baby, I had given up Draco as well. And that hurt. It hurt so much I could hardly breath. But you know what? If I could go back in time to that same moment...

I would do it again.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I found Ginny in the inn at Hogsmeade—she wasn't badly injured, so she wasn't staying in the castle. She took one look at my face and pulled me inside. She didn't even have to use her brain-picking powers; the whole story just came pouring out like water from a fountain. Or like the tears streaming from my eyes. She tucked me into bed with firm orders to rest, eat lots of chocolate, and let her take care of everything. I was only too happy to comply.

I attended the funeral in wolf form—though I needn't have worried. Draco wasn't there. I did notice, however, the glint of gold among the flames. I was glad. It comforted me to think that Christo would at least make it to the land of the dead. He would enter and be judged by Minos. I was sure he would go to the Elysian Fields. He was a hero in my eyes. At the very least, he would drink from Lethe, the river of forgetfulness, and be reborn. He wouldn't wait on the banks of the Styx for all eternity.

After the funeral, Ginny brought me to London to stay. She had me read the address on a slip of paper. Her mother was all kindness and solicitude and made every effort to make me feel at home even though she had lost two of her sons—Percy, the Minister, and Charlie, who I had never met. Ginny was still needed by the Order, so mostly it was just me and Molly Weasely at home.

"This isn't really home, though," she told me one morning. "We're at the Order's Headquarters—don't worry, it's perfectly safe. No one can find it unless the Secret Keeper tells them where it is—that's why you had to read the slip of paper before you came. When Dumbledore died, the Secret was passed on to Minerva. I'm not sure exactly how that works; the Fidelius Charm is really quite complicated.

"This is Sirius' house, you know. That's why we're even bothering to fix the place up again. While he was—I don't know, was he dead or wasn't he? Oh, well, when he disappeared, the house passed to Harry, but course he didn't want to stay here, the poor dear. He's been living with us all these years—he's practically one of my own. Oh, I can't wait for Harry and Ginny's wedding, it'll be so nice..."

I wasn't very interested in any of this, but Molly seemed to find comfort in it and I didn't mind. Because I couldn't get a word in edgewise, I didn't have to talk much. I just helped her clean up and make the house more cheerful for Sirius' arrival. I helped cook for whatever Order members dropped by and did my best to stay out of sight.

Harry started coming by more often and made a point of spending some time with me. He said it was only right to get to know each other—we were family, after all. I agreed with him, mostly because I didn't have anyone else to turn to. I was lonely—and curious about my mother's side. He told me about how he had lived with his—our—Aunt Petunia and her husband, Vernon, and their horrible son, Dudley. He even made me laugh a few times while regaling me with Dudley's antics. Even Ron Weasely, who I had bitten, was making an effort to be nice even though I had made him an abnormal werewolf—I had bitten him at the half-moon, so he changed accordingly.

"I could take you home," Harry offered one evening as he, Ginny, and I sipped hot chocolate in the kitchen. I spent most of my time in the kitchen. "It would be no trouble, if that's what you wanted."

"Thank you," I began, then frowned. "But—I don't know. I've only just gotten to know you." I forced a light smile. "Are you kicking me out, cousin?"

"Of course not," Harry said, looking abashed. "I just thought you were homesick—you've been looking a bit off-color."

"I wonder why," Ginny murmured, rolling her eyes. I smiled faintly. "We're having a big coming-home party for Sirius in a few days, Ari. Why don't we go shopping? I saw a dress in Muggle London the other day that would look great on you."

"Yeah, I'd love to," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Is Hermione coming, too?"

"Of course," Ginny said, grinning. "She hates shopping—that's why I love shopping with her. I can drag her around and dress her up like a doll. I also use her to test my hair products, you know. If they work on Hermione's hair, I figure they'll work on anyone's."

I laughed. "What do you mean? Her hair's pretty."

"Hah," Harry said with a snort. "That's because she uses Ginny's Lion Tamer potion. When I first met her, her hair was about five times the size it is now"

"She was rather fuzzy, wasn't she?" Ginny said with a nostalgic smile. "There were one or two curls, but the rest was frizz and fluff."

"Oh, dear," I murmured. Suddenly I thought of my cousin Sofi. "Hey, Ginny, do you think I could buy some from you? I have a cousin who could probably benefit from a little bit of magic hair product."

"No, you can't buy anything from me," Ginny said bluntly. "You can have anything you want for free."

"No—Ginny--"

"Saving Sirius—and Harry—is at least worth a lifetime supply of hair potion," Ginny said firmly.

I raised my hands in defeat. "Fine, fine. I only need the one for my cousin. I don't need hair potions, after all."

I gave my hair a smug little toss. I may be single, I thought, but I'm still gorgeous. He can't take that away. A chunk of my very soul, perhaps, but not my beauty. Or my pride, or my self-esteem, or confidence, or security. That's what I told myself, anyway. But my superficial good looks—those were definitely mine. I could keep those.

On the night of Sirius' party, Ginny and I got dressed in her room. She wore a simple yet elegant white dress and curled her hair. Just for kicks, I decided to wear mine straight. It felt different—I hadn't changed the color, but it felt incredibly different for some reason. Even more different than when I was Alexandra Rodriguez and my hair was blond. But it was a good kind of different; I felt bolder than I had since—since I left Hogwarts. The dress Ginny had picked out didn't hurt anything, either—she was right, it did look great on me.

Harry and Sirius met us at the top of the stairs. Harry smiled at me, looking pleased with himself. Sirius smiled as well, but kind of sheepishly. I laughed and rolled my eyes, but I was secretly happy—and relieved. I hadn't been looking forward to entering the party all by myself. To think I had made fun of Narcissa only months ago for her insistence on an escort.

"May I have the honor of accompanying you, madam?" Sirius said with a cheeky grin, offering his arm.

"Only because you've been dead for several years," I replied, smiling. "Shall we?"

Sirius and I descended first and entered the ballroom amidst thunderous applause. Then Harry and Ginny followed and were met by a small explosion of cheers.

"Isn't this supposed to be your party?" I shouted to Sirius.

"Yes, but Harry deserves it more than I do," Sirius yelled back. "I just came back from the dead—he was clever enough to avoid dying in the first place."

I laughed and released him as the people around him started pushing him back toward the stairs to give a toast. Or a speech. Something along those lines. I let out a blurted protest as Sirius snagged my hand and pulled me after him. I tried to tug my hand away, but he held fast. I followed him reluctantly onto the stairs and stared at a spot on the wall above the crowd.

"Oy, you lot!" Sirius bellowed above the noise. "If you want me to give a speech, you're going to have to shut up." He waited another minute for the chuckling to fade, then began again. "I've been told that it has been seven years since the Department of Mysteries. I wouldn't know—to me it seemed like an eternity and yet only a week. During that time, I only had one thought: I had to get out. Someone here needed me, and I had promised his parents—and him—that I would take care of him. I would give my life to save Harry's without a second thought. But I didn't have any life to give—I wasn't alive, I wasn't dead. I merely—existed.

"My one comfort was that I never saw Harry—so I knew he was still alive. But I began to despair of ever escaping. Until I met Ariadne. Even though I knew it was impossible that she could have the power to do so, I begged her to get me out. After so long, I didn't expect anything but disappointment—but she did it. I don't know how and, frankly, I'm not brave enough to ask, but she convinced the god of death to let me go. And not just me—she saved thousands of souls from eternal suffering on the edge of death. So please believe me when I say that the true heroine tonight is this young woman beside me. Ariadne Metaxas."

I looked away and tried to block the sound of the applause. They shouldn't be clapping for me, I thought. I was no hero. I exchanged Bellum's life for Sirius'. It was not an act of compassion. It was revenge. And as for the Unburied Souls—luck. Or fate, perhaps. If I hadn't been pregnant and I hadn't had anything to trade but my own life, those souls would still be waiting by the Styx.

Sirius and I rejoined the party. Several house elves, including Dobby and an extremely unpleasant elf named Kreacher, carried around trays loaded with little snacks and drinks over their heads. It gave the impression that these trays were merely floating about at waist level. It was kind of disconcerting.

"Enjoying the party?" an elderly man in a top hat asked me.

"Oh, yes," I said, raising my glass to take a sip of my drink. "It's very nice."

"What a lovely ring that is," he observed, leaning forward to inspect it. "But where is your husband?"

I felt like someone had punched me in the gut. No one had mentioned Draco in my presence since the Incident, as I had started calling it.

"I—you know, I really couldn't say," I said with a strained smile. "I'm sure he's around somewhere."

"If I meet him, I'll be sure to tell him what a lucky man he is," the old man said, beaming, and walked away.

"Daedalus Diggle," Hermione said, suddenly appearing at my side. "He can be a bit dim sometimes."

"I—Hermione, what are you wearing?" I asked, glad for a distraction. "Robes? What happened to that dress that we bought the other day?"

"I returned it," Hermione said, blushing. "It was too--"

"Too what?" I demanded. "Too pretty? Hermione, you looked amazing. And you're wearing robes instead?"

"They're dress robes," Hermione said defensively. "They're perfectly appropriate. And, anyway, we're not talking about me."

"We're not talking about me, either," I said firmly. When she opened her mouth to protest, I cut her off. "Drop it, Hermione."

"Alright," she conceded. "Fine. Hold it all in and let it fester if you want to."

"Nothing is festering," I said calmly. "And, anyway, this isn't the time or the place."

"Alright," she said again, and shrugged. "But try to smile a bit, would you? This party is for you as much as for Sirius."

I wished people would stop saying that. This was a welcome home party. For Sirius. Even if I had done something wonderful like they all thought, it was still a welcome home party. And it wasn't my home.

I spent a month at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, wandering around like a lost puppy. I didn't know what to do. Everyone was nice and hospitable and grateful to me for bringing Sirius back, but I felt out of place. I knew I had to go away—somewhere, but I had no idea where to go.

Luckily, Ginny did. She found me in the kitchen one day, cooking "authentic" Greek food, at Harry's request. She sat down at the kitchen table and just watched me for a few minutes before setting down the glass she had been fiddling with.

"I have a proposition for you," she said. "I know you want to get out of here. I also know you don't want to go home to Greece, and I think I know why. So I've been thinking. I want to start my own line of hair-products and I don't think anyone has time to think about things like that right now. In England, at least. But in America. . .you used to live in America, and your father was a businessman. Come with me—I think we can do it together. And, if not, we can find something else to do or go our separate ways. Whatever you want."

"What about Harry?" I asked.

"We've waited this long," she said with a smile. "We can wait a little longer. Besides, he wants to make up for lost time with Sirius. And he can visit. So what do you say?"

I hesitated only a moment.

"When do we leave?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took a couple of months to get our affairs in order, but the time finally came for us to move out. The Ministry, now headed by Ginny's father, Arthur Weasley—I'm telling you, it was the Mafia—arranged for a Portkey to Washington. From there, we used brooms—Ginny taught me how to fly—to get to the small house in West Virginia we'd bought. It was small, cheap, and secluded—I wanted plenty of room to roam—and it had fairly easy access to Philadelphia, Washington, and other large cities.

Ginny's hair products were a huge hit—within six months, all the wizarding models and celebrities were using Fiery Phoenix hair products. We eventually branched out into make-up and bath products, which were also a huge success. She developed the products and I marketed them—we worked well together.

For the most part, it was a good life. Except sometimes I would pass a college campus and think, I should be there. None of this should have happened. I should be in Princeton, learning to be a diplomat. My father should still be alive and we should still be living with Soula in our big house in New England. I shouldn't be living in a little cottage in West Virginia selling hair goop to witches. I shouldn't be crying myself to sleep every night because I lost the only man I would ever—or could ever—love. I shouldn't be wearing a gorgeous ring that would never, ever come off.

And to think, it all happened because of one stupid moment. One moment where I thought, what the hell? Just do it. I'd had it all and then everything started to go downhill because of one dumb moment. I'd had it all—and I lost it. Everything.

Gradually, the days did not seem so long and torturous and I began to see what I had gained: a good friend, a steady job that was also successful and enjoyable, and a home that was truly my own. Well, mine and Ginny's. But we had done it ourselves. It wasn't an inheritance, it wasn't a gift, it wasn't acquired through marriage. It was ours. And that was worth more to me than I could say.

For nearly two years, Ginny and I lived in our little cabin. We spent a lot of time in cities, but I for one had to return every month. I worked long hours and filled my spare time with side jobs: teaching voice lessons and guitar lessons and piano lessons and riding lessons. I tutored high school students in French, Italian, and Spanish. All of the useless stuff I'd learned to make myself more attractive to colleges I taught to other rich kids prepping for the Ivy League. I did everything I could think of. Anything to fill the extra hours in the day so I wouldn't have time to think about what I'd lost. And it worked—for a while. It would have gone on working if what I had lost hadn't knocked on my front door.

It was the morning after the last night of the full moon and I was sleeping peacefully. I was having a dream that I was riding down the road at a gallop. It was very vivid—I could actually hear the hoof beats. And then I woke up and realized that it was not hoof beats at all, but someone knocking on the door. Grumbling curses, I rolled out of bed and stomped downstairs to open the door. I froze.

"Draco," I breathed. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for my wife," Draco said softly. "Have you seen her?"

"That depends on what you want her for," I said cautiously. Then I remembered my manners. "Why don't you come in?"

I led him to the kitchen and set about making food. I didn't know what to do. I felt hot and cold at once—nervous and excited and scared and doubtful. There's a mindset common to almost all Greek women: when in doubt, cook something. Food can only make it better.

"So—so what have you been up to?" I asked casually, sitting down.

"I got an official pardon from the Ministry," he said. "That took a while. But for the past year or so I've been sailing with Kallias. It's good work—and good company. I enjoy it."

"That's good," I murmured. "How is he?"

"Good," he replied. "He wants to see you again. He wants you to come home."

"And what do you want?"

"I want my wife back," he said simply. "I've missed you, Ari."

"So much has changed, Draco...we've been apart longer than we were together," I said. "It was only six months."

"It was the best six months of my life," Draco said. "Barring the last twenty minutes or so."

I laughed a little in spite of myself and he reached across the table to take my hand.

"We can start over," Draco continued. "Here or in Greece or in England. Wherever you want to go, I'll go with you—hell, we can go to Uzbekistan if you want."

"Not that I don't appreciate the thought, but why would I want to go to Uzbekistan?"

"I don't know—it seemed suitably remote to illustrate my point."

"Do you really think it will work?" I asked, trying to keep the hope—and yearning—out of my voice.

"I'll make it work," Draco promised, squeezing my hand.

"What about—you know. What happened," I said, looking away. The memory was still painful.

Draco hesitated before speaking.

"It hurt, Ari," he said finally. "For a while all I could think about was that you had given it up. It felt an awful lot like betrayal. But then I realized that giving you up hurt even more. That I had betrayed you. And I won't do that again."

"I believe you," I said evenly. "But I have to be sure you understand. I'm not noble, Draco. I'm not self-sacrificing. When I gave the baby up, I was glad to be rid of it. I wasn't glad to give it up because I knew it would hurt you, but to be free of it...I was thrilled, Draco. Ecstatic. And If I get pregnant by accident again, there's a very good chance I'll get rid of it one way or another."

Draco smiled crookedly. "I guess we'll just have to make sure you don't get pregnant, then."

"And I'm not going to be a stay-at-home housewife," I said. "Or a trophy wife. I won't sit at home while you go off and do interesting things with your life."

"You know, Britain is still trying to get back on her feet," Draco commented. "They could use a little help in terms of foreign relations. If I remember correctly, that was the field you wanted to go into."

"Yes, it was," I said wistfully.

"Well, I'm sure I could—you could get yourself a job with the British Ministry if you wanted," Draco said. "You're wasted on hair products."

"Hey, Fiery Phoenix hair potions are entirely worthy of my talents," I protested. "Ginny's done a great job."

"So have you," Draco said. "Ari, if you want to stay here, I'll stay here. Just tell me what you want."

"What if I wanted you to leave and never come back?" I asked softly.

Draco's eyes widened minutely, then his jaw clenched. "That I won't do. I'm not going anywhere. Not without you."

I nodded mutely, unable to speak. I rose and stirred the soup before going upstairs and changing. I turned to see Draco hovering in the doorway.

"Where are you going?" he asked uncertainly.

I smiled and crossed to him, leaning my forehead against his chest. After a moment, his arms came around me hesitantly. I listened to his heartbeat and let my breathing match his. I had dreamed about this every night since we parted. Every night, without fail. And now it was real. It took me a few minutes to finally answer him.

"I'm going to find Ginny."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're what?" Ginny practically screeched.

"I'm going back to Greece with Draco," I said calmly.

"When was this decided?" she demanded.

"This morning," I said simply.

"He just shows up out of the blue after two years and you decide to run off with him?"

"I'm not 'running off with him'," I said, rolling my eyes. "We're married."

"That wasn't a marriage, it was a mistake," Ginny said flatly.

"So now we'll make a real marriage," I insisted. "Look, Ginny. I'm not asking you. I'm informing you. I'll stay long enough to train a replacement and then I'm gone."

"Gone. Just like that," Ginny said bitterly.

"Ginny," I said, softening a little. "It's not like I'm dropping off the face of the earth. I can visit—or you can visit me in Greece. And you and your family and Harry and Sirius will all be invited to the wedding."

"Wedding? You're already married," Ginny said with a frown.

"Magically, yes," I explained. "But not by Muggle law. My family has been expecting a Muggle ceremony."

"What, didn't they know you split up?" Ginny asked. When I didn't answer right away, she grabbed my arm. "Ari—didn't you tell them?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "Not in so many words."

"I don't believe this," Ginny said, laughing incredulously. "You've been waiting for him. All this time."

"Well, it wasn't like I could just bang someone else and forget all about him," I snapped. "Moving on wasn't exactly an option."

"Still—what would you have done if he hadn't come back?" Ginny asked, shaking her head.

"That's irrelevant," I said. "He did come back and I am going with him. We'll stay three weeks. One week to find a replacement and another two to train her. Or him."

"Her," Ginny said firmly. "And he is not staying in our house."

"Oh, I know," I said with a sweet smile. "I'm staying in his."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So you're sure you want to do this," Ginny said for the thousandth time.

"Yes, Ginny," I said patiently while Draco bit back what was no doubt a snide comment fighting to get out. "I'm sure I want to do this."

"Just making sure."

"You've been 'just making sure' for the past three weeks," Draco said irritably. "Give it a rest, Weasley."

"Well, obviously no one made sure you were sure the last time," Ginny shot back.

"Oh, my," I said, startled. "Low blow, Gin."

"Well, it's true," she said stubbornly.

"Not entirely, and you know it," I said sternly. She was the only one aside from Draco and myself who knew the reason for our separation. "Cheer up, you get to spend three weeks in Greece next summer."

Ginny sighed. "I guess having to associate with him is a small enough price to pay."

"I have my doubts, personally," Draco muttered. "Are we leaving or what?"

"You've waited two years," I told him. "You can wait another five minutes."

"Females."

"What was that?" I turned a beady eye on him and he smiled, innocent as the summer sky.

"Why, nothing, darling."

"I thought so."

"Cow."

"Draco, would you shut up?" I laughed, and turned to Ginny with a sigh. "Good-bye, Ginny. I'll miss you."

"Not as much as I'll miss you," she grumbled as she hugged me good-bye. "Your replacement is a complete twit."

"Yeah, but your clients will be too busy staring at her rack to disagree with anything she's saying," I pointed out. "Seriously, though, give her some time. I think she's got a lot of potential."

"If you say so," Ginny said dubiously. "With any luck, she'll--"

Whatever sentiment Ginny wished to share with me was abruptly interrupted by what felt like an earthquake. Ginny and I were both thrown to the ground in a tangle of limbs. I shoved her off of me—her elbow was digging into my breast—and scrambled to my feet. When I saw what was before me I very nearly fainted.

Six black horses. A golden chariot. Hades with his scepter. He didn't have his helmet—obviously, or I wouldn't have been able to see him. I guess he felt better keeping it safe at home. Beside Hades stood a beautiful yet hard-faced woman. It was Nike, a goddess of justice and victory. She held Draco in her arms.

"Two years is not a sacrifice," Hades said simply, and disappeared.

With a wordless cry of fury, I hurled myself at the hole, but it had already closed up. I tore at the dirt and leaves of the forest floor, choking on sobs. Two years of tearing myself apart. Two years of running myself to the ground just so I could fall asleep at night. Two years of knowing that Draco despised me even as he loved me. Two fucking years of hating myself for doing what had to be done. I'd say it was a god-damned sacrifice.

"Ari, stop," Ginny said, tugging at my arm. I shook her off and kept digging. "Ari. Stop it! Petrificus Totalus!"

My body went stiff and rigid like a board. I couldn't move. I couldn't even speak. I glared balefully at Ginny. She was pale and the wand she held in her hand was shaking.

"I'll let you go as soon as you calm down," she said, her voice even. "You are not going to dig yourself into Tartarus. Are you calm?"

I glared harder.

"I'll pretend that was a yes," she said. "If you try to kill me, I will Stupefy you."

Ginny took the spell off me and I slowly got to my feet, wiping away angry tears.

"Hermes!" I shrieked, and Ginny's wand arm twitched.

"Right here," he said gloomily, appearing by my side.

"What the hell is going on?" I demanded, seething with fury.

"He's right," Hermes said helplessly. "Two years isn't much of a sacrifice."

"The hell it isn't," I yelled.

"Not to an immortal," Hermes shrugged.

"How do I get him back?"

"Come again?"

"I want my husband back," I snarled, getting right up in his face. "And you're going to tell me how."

"Because I love you and I want to make you feel better, I'll pretend that you're intimidating me," Hermes said, and gently pushed me back. "Look. Sweetie. Pumpkin. Hades demanded it, Zeus authorized it; it's done."

"Orpheus got Eurydice back," I argued. "Or he would have if he hadn't screwed up. I could--"

"Baby, I know you're good—but not that good," Hermes said, shaking his head. "Hades is much harder to impress than Cerberus."

"There has to be a way," I cried. "There has to be."

"Well..." Hermes hesitated. "Apollo is extremely fond of you. He's always bragging to all of us how bloody perfect you are. His little mortal mini-me. You could ask him to plead your case with Zeus. You'd have to go to him though. You can't drag him all the way from his palace and then ask him to defy his father for you. Bad form, you know."

"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath. "Where do I find him?"

"East," he said, looking at me like I had just asked him what color the sky was.

"The world is round," I growled. "I'll just end up going around and around the world."

"Not for you," Hermes said seriously. "Sail east from Delos, following the dolphins. Follow the hawk to the snake. The snake will direct you to the griffin, who will carry you to Apollo's palace in the East."

"I don't suppose you could take me?" I asked dully. It was worth a shot.

"Are you kidding? Iris would kill me." Hermes sighed and rested his hands on my shoulders. "Ariadne, listen to me. Don't get you're hopes up. Believe me, we'll all do everything we can, but don't expect any miracles."

"I'm going to get him out, Hermes," I said defiantly.

"If you say so, kid," Hermes replied, and disappeared.

I turned to Ginny, who was staring at me with her mouth hanging open. I raised an eyebrow and she hastily shut her mouth.

"I take it you were speaking with a god?" she asked.

"Arguing with one, yes," I said. "Let's go."

"What? Where are we going?"

"We're going to find my cousin, Kallias," I said. "Then we're going to sail east and follow the birds and dolphins and snakes and orangutans or whatever. And we're going to get Draco back."

Ginny stared some more, then shook her head. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes, okay," she snapped. "But we're not going to Greece yet. We're going to England."

"What the hell for?" I demanded.

"Backup," she said. "Sirius, because he's even more familiar with the underworld than you are, Harry because he's a Parslemouth, Hermione because she's the cleverest witch you'll ever find, and Ron because—well, because he'll whinge if he doesn't get to come."

"Ginny--"

"If you don't like it, you can get your own ride to Greece," she said, lifting her chin.

"Fine. Fine. Can we go, please?" I gritted. "God, I should have seen this coming."

"How could you have?"

"They're Greek gods," I said disgustedly. "Let's go."

I took Ginny's arm and we disappeared. I felt like there was a monster in my stomach, clawing at my insides. Wait, I told it. You'll get your chance. But for now, just wait. When the time comes...I didn't care what it took. I would chase as many animals as I had to, argue with whatever finicky god necessary, and crawl to the ends of the earth on my hands and knees if that was required. But I was going to get my husband back and we were going to have a real wedding, damn it. And if Hades got in the way...well.

Hades was going down.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bwahahahahaha. Ha. ha. ha. And let me reiterate that... HAH!

okay, so here's the deal: I originally had it end when she says she's going to find Ginny (she also says "I'm going home") but then I realized that two years couldn't really be considered a sacrifice worthy of a thousand souls. And this leaves room for a sequel. Yay! This story took me about nine months to complete, so don't expect anything any time soon, but maybe put me on your alerts or something.

about making Just Perfect an original story...I've got it on the backburner. What I think I'm going to do is write the sequel, and then merge the two into an original story somehow. Because the whole point of this story was the Horcrux issue. So I need an original problem. I was thinking of maybe giving Ari a little sister and splitting up Ari's talents between them to sort of reduce the Mary-Sue effect and then maybe the sister could get kidnapped or something.

And speaking of the Mary Sue issue, I need to get this off my chest: Ari is Apollo's favorite. Apollo is the god of pretty much everything. Music, athletics, healing, ideal beauty--ringing any bells?--prophecy, logic and reason, light, the fine arts, archery. He is associated with excellence--winners of contests were crowned with laurel to honor him. Wolves, among other animals, were sacred to him. Maybe I should have worked it into the story more, but the outlets for Ari's perfectness were not chosen at random.

that being said, thank you all for your lovely reviews and see you when or if I get the sequel written.

shai