Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series. I think we've pretty well established that.

Alright, so I'm not even going to try and apologize for my lack of updating or try and explain the MASSIVE case of writer's block that has held this story in suspense for so long. Instead, I'll let my writing apologize for me. Enjoy!

Without further ado…

Chapter 22

Ginny POV

My gilded cage didn't seem quite so much like prison as I climbed out of bed, very conscious of the boy still laying there. The boyish grin on his face, the hope in his eyes, was enough to make my heart hurt. Everything I had never let myself dream seemed to be happening. I believed his story about why he turned to the Order, I had no choice but to. If any part of his story had been untrue, he would have never been permitted to a safe house. But, I had a much harder time accepting the fact he did truly have feelings for me. To accept this would be to open my self up to the possibility of pain again. I didn't know if I could survive that a second time.

"Look, my Aunt Muriel is the biggest gossip in my whole family," I said as I pulled a bathrobe on over my pajamas before turning to look at the boy in my bed. "If we let on that there is anything at all between us, not that I'm saying there is, but even that we have a sort of past, she'll never let it go. If she finds out, then my parents will too." I let the statement hang there, not finishing the thought aloud. If they found out, I'd be taken away for sure. While, twenty-four hours ago that would have been a blessing, now the thought of leaving was something I didn't want to face.

Draco nodded as he rose gracefully from the bed. "I understand," he said, striding over to me but pausing before he got too close, almost like he was afraid I'd disappear if he came too close. Tentatively, he reached out and ran a finger down my cheek, a small smile on his lips. "Don't worry. I'm good at hiding things." He seemed to regret the words as soon as they slipped from his lips. "I'm sorry," he whispered, stepping back a pace.

"It's alright," I said after a long moment, having had to collect myself before I knew I would be able to speak without tears falling. We both knew from experience just how well he could hide things from people.

I turned from him and grabbed the brush off my dresser, dragging it a little too forcefully through my tangled hair, avoiding his eyes in the mirror over the dresser. I hoped he would take the hint and go, I didn't know how much longer I'd be able to keep myself composed in front of him. Instead of leaving however, he stepped closer again and his hand closed over mine, pausing the brush in mid swipe though my hair.

"You'll rip half your hair out," he said softly, tugging the brush from my fingers and picking up where I had left off, much more gently than I had been.

I stood there, frozen, as he ran the brush through my tangled mass of hair. Though with magic he could have been done in a second, he continued to gently pull the brush through the tangles. It took him several long minutes to brush it all out. Finally, my hair fell in soft waves around my face. My heart was hammering the entire time, so acutely aware of his nearness.

The sunlight coming in through the window bounced off of the mirror and illuminating the room. Draco smiled at me in the reflection. "You look like a fiery angel," he said, setting the brush down as he pushed my hair over one shoulder, baring my neck. Slowly, he leaned down and pressed as soft kiss at the pounding pulse on my neck, his lips lingering for just a second. "I love you." Had his lips not been inches from my ear, I wouldn't have even heard the whispered words. As it was, my heart hammered even fast and I knew I had to get away from him before I did something stupid.

"I've got to start breakfast," I said in a strangled voice, pulling away from him as tears pressed hotly on my eyes. I refused to let them fall, I had already cried enough for a lifetime. "Aunt Muriel will be up soon, and she'll be expecting food."

I was almost halfway to the door before Draco spoke again. "She expects you to cook for her?" he asked, his voice indignant.

I paused only long enough to glance back at him and shake my head. "No," I assured him. "I choose to. She couldn't even fix a decent bowl of porridge to safe her life. If I didn't do the cooking, I would have starved by now. Naturally, after so long, she's come to expect food when she gets up.

He followed as I continued my trek down the stairs. "How long have you been here?" he asked, less defensively this time now that he seemed to accept I wasn't being treated like my aunt's personal house elf.

"Three months I think," I answered after a pause, trying to remember how long it had been. I felt much longer than three months. "Give or take a week or two."

"That's quite a while to be alone," he murmured, his eyebrows knitting together. "Was it the attack on your brother's wedding that made you go into hiding?"

I paused as I reached for a large skillet, wondering how much a part of it he had played. Had he been in the raiding party that had breached the security of the Burrow just moments after my family made it to safety? "Yes," I said softly, not sure how, or if, I could voice my own questions as I grabbed the skillet and dropped it down over a burner.

As if sensing the question in my silence, Draco answered my unspoken query. "I wasn't there, I wasn't part of it." Dropping his voice even lower, he said, "But I couldn't stop it."

"It's alright," I said, trying to sound like it actually was. "All of my family made it to their safe houses." All except Ron, who had gone off with Harry and Hermione to try and save the world. I didn't say this part aloud. I didn't like thinking about the danger they were in. No news was good news on their end, and we hadn't heard a peep since they disappeared.

"I'm glad," Draco said, his voice soft.

I looked over at him with a deep sigh. "Look, this isn't a subject I fancy continuing before I even have breakfast. Let's not talk about it. I don't want to talk about the war, or the danger we're all in. There's nothing I can do from here and no way I can leave, not without risk to my whole family. All I can do it sit and wait. I hate it and I'd rather just not think about it. Okay?"

He nodded, seeming to understand just how hard my inactivity was for me. "Alright," he agreed, saying no more on the subject.

After grabbing half a dozen eggs, I looked over at Draco and shook my head at him. "If Aunt Muriel gets up and sees you shirtless, she'll have a fit. Why don't you go get dressed?"

He smiled at me, his grin like that of a mischievous boy. "You don't seem to mind it though," he said with a raised eyebrow. "Do you?"

Blushing, I rolled my eyes at him and turned back to the food I was trying fruitlessly to prepare. "No, but my aunt will. Go put some clothes on," I told him, trying to sound stern.

Chuckling, he walked away and back up the stairs, leaving me to blush over the eggs.

Draco POV

I could tell it was going to take a while to get Ginny to open up to me again, but this time was determined not to screw it up. I would go however slowly I needed to in order to earn her trust again. So I did as she asked and retreated upstairs to put some proper clothes on. Only once I was dressed and ready for the day did I return downstairs, just as she was spooning food onto three plates. She blushed when she saw me, avoiding eye contact.

Though my plans to seduce her a year ago had so thoroughly backfired, or worked so wonderfully, however you looked at it, I couldn't help but think back on them. It was like starting all over again. So, we were back to step one, or rather step seven: re-gain the Weasley's trust. I smiled to myself, thinking back over the time Ginny and I had before the disastrous ending of our relationship.

As the three of us, Ginny's aunt having finally gotten out of bed at the smell of bacon coming from the kitchen, at our breakfast, I found myself looking forward to this new step. Each step was a step forward. I kept polite conversation with the woman who was sheltering us and, as Ginny had asked, did not let on to any kind of relationship the two of us had.

The next few weeks passed in a similar manner, though each day Ginny opened up just a little more, let me in just a little further. The only time her guard was ever really down was at night. She was plagued by nightmares and, each night so far, had woken in the middle of the night, sobbing her heart out. I could never leave her alone in such a state and so I came to find myself, late each night, climbing into her bed and wrapping her in my arms.

I tried asking her what she dreamed about, hoping that if she talked about it maybe it would lessen them, but she refused to say a word. Instead she merely curled up against me and clung tightly as she finally fell aback into a peaceful sleep. This scene was repeated so frequently I eventually gave up on sleeping in my own bed and simply waited out in the hall, a book in hand, for her to wait so I could join her.

I though of asking her if she would like me to just go to bed with her. Maybe I could keep the nightmares at bay if I was there though the whole night, but I knew I couldn't push her. So instead I kept my nighttime watch outside her door until she needed me.

This is how we passed the first month and a half of my stay at the safe house. November had faded into a freezing December and the snow piled up outside, obscuring Ginny's carefully tended garden and forcing her to stay inside. She grew more restless at the confinement and, to help pass the time, we began to practice magic together, reading from her text books and helping each other.

Though Ginny was underage and would be until nearly the start of her seventh year, her aunt didn't seem to mind her practicing. It was one of the only things she didn't complain about. Oh, she had admonished us about making a ruckus and breaking things, which if we did we quickly set to rights, but she let us practice all the same. Not wanting to hear her yelling at us to be quiet, we usually revered our makeshift lessons when her aunt was out of the house.

A week before Christmas, with Muriel out of the house having tea with her friends, found the two of us in the attic, or preferred practice area. The cauldron that she had found up here months before I had come stood in one corner. A pile of her spell books lay scattered by a worn out old sofa that had been exiled to the attic years ago. The majority of the floor space was cleared so we'd have plenty of room to practice.

"Have you ever tried to produce a Patronus?" she asked as she flipped through one of the spell books, looking for something we hadn't already worked on.

I shook my head, looking over her shoulder at the book she was flipping through. "That's not in the book though, what made you think of it?"

"It's something Harry taught us when we were doing the DA," she said, referring to the illegal club they had created right under Professor Umbridge's nose. "I haven't been able to produce one for so long now."

"Could you before?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"Yes, for a while I could. To make one though, you have to think of your happiest memory. The strong the memory, the happier, the stronger the Patronus," she explained, setting the book aside. She didn't have to say aloud for me to understand that she hadn't been able to preform the spell since I so thoroughly broke her heart the year before. I couldn't help the wave of guilt and self-loathing that crashed over me before I could push it away. I might be making up for it now, but I didn't know if I could ever forgive myself for what I did to her.

"Well, it's a good spell to know with the dementors on the loose now," I said, trying to steer the conversation back onto safe ground. "Shall we give it a go? "

She nodded, climbing up off the couch and moving to the middle of the room, gesturing me to follow. After a rundown of the basics of the spell, she pulled out her wand and pointed it at the empty room. "Expecto Patronum!" she cried, a thick, shapeless silver mist bursting from her wand. She held it for a moment before cutting off the spell.

"I used to be able to make a corporeal one," she said with a frown. Shaking her head, she turned to me. "Think of your happiest memory and give it a try."

Over the next several hours we worked on the Patronus charm. The most I had managed to do was a slight silver mist that wouldn't have been enough to hardly make a dementor stumble, but Ginny assured me it was a good start. Though she had tried several more times, the silver Patronus that exploded from the end of her wand was stubbornly shapeless. I could tell she was frustrated at not being able to do the spell properly, but I had no idea how to help.

Ginny POV

I huffed in frustration as the silvery mist faded away. I just couldn't get it to take form. The happiest memory I could think of was when I gave myself so wholly to Draco the year before. That memory, though, was so closely tied to the devastation that followed quickly after. None of my other happy memories could do it anymore though. I dropped my wand back down to my side, frowning at my lack of ability to product the Patronus I knew I could.

"It's getting late," Draco said, giving me an out to quite trying. "Why don't we head downstairs and find something for dinner?"

"Just one more try," I said, not quite willing to give up yet. There was one thing I hadn't tried yet, the happiest memory I had. Well, it wasn't a memory, it wasn't even real, but it was the happiest thing I could think of. Closing my eyes, I pictured the moonlit room of my dream. I pictured Draco climbing into bed, kissing me and caressing the bump that held our unborn child. Just a dream, but such a happy one.

"Expecto Patronum." I said the words quietly, slowly opening my eyes to see a massive silver horse burst from the end of my wand, filling the attic with it's light and presence. I held the spell for a moment, a smile on my face, before letting the Patronus dissolve into nothingness.

"That was spectacular," Draco said quietly once the silver mist had disappeared and the attic plunged once more into it's dim light, the sun outside having already started to go down.

"I didn't know if it would work or not," I said, thinking back to the dream I had used to product the Patronus. "It wasn't really a memory."

"If it wasn't a memory, what was it?" he asked as we settled ourselves back down onto the couch in the corner.

Pulling my legs up under me, I found I couldn't quite meet his eye. "A dream," I said simply, unsure if I should elaborate.

He was quiet for a long moment before asking, "What do you dream of, Ginny?"

Without stopping to think, I began to talk. "It's always late, the moonlight streaming in the window. I'm lying in bed, tired, but unwilling to go to sleep," I said, my voice soft as I thought back to my frequent dream. "Then the door opens, and you walk in." Beside me, Draco smiled. "You climb into bed with me, kiss me, and-" I cut off, unsure how to say the rest of it. I let my hand slid down to my middle, where the baby bump was in the dream, as a few tears fell unbidden from my eyes.

Draco seemed to understand without my finishing the sentence though. He pulled me close and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "Oh Gin," he said with a deep sigh. "Is this what you always dream about?"

"Not always," I managed to say, trying hard not to let myself fall apart. "Sometimes it's nightmares. But a lot of times, it's that dream, yes."

"If it's such a good dream, why do you wake up crying?" he asked, his voice almost desperate.

It took me a long moment to find my voice and when I did speak, it was in a voice thick with emotion. "Because it can never happen. The one thing I wanted more than anything in the world was to fall in love, get married and have children. I've dreamed of that since childhood, what girl doesn't? Now I finally found the one person who I want all of those things with and it can never happen. Even now that you're back in my life, I still know it's not possible. Not with your betrothal contract to Pansy Parkinson. You said so yourself that you could never get married and certainly never have kids. Can you see why that dream taunts me, dangling a future in front of me I can't have? It's unfair and heart wrenching."

I was crying too hard to keep talking and instead curled myself into his arms, clinging to him as if he were my lifeline. His arms encircled me and he murmured soothingly in my ear. It felt good to finally say all of that aloud, all of the things that had been pressing on me since Draco's sudden reappearance in my life. I'd been so afraid to let him back in, stubbornly guarding my heart against him, not letting him be more than a friend. Why let myself hope for a future that could not happen?

The dam had finally opened though and there was no stopping it. I loved him, I had never stopped loving him even when I thought he had tricked me and used me and betrayed me. Even when I had tried to push him from my mind and my heart, I still loved him. And now, as I sat in his arms, I knew I would never be able to deny it again. I was fully and completely in love with Draco Malfoy, and there was nothing that could ever change it, for better or worse, even if the only possible future held heartache.

"I'm not sure how," he began, his own voice sounding suspiciously thick, "but I will give all of those things to you, Ginny. I'll find a way to make you my wife, I swear it." Then, as if he could hold back no longer, he tilted my face to his and kissed me.

Alright, there you have it! I think it's a good point to jump back into writing. I've been dying to keep going with this for ages and now my plot bunnies are back!

Please leave a review and let me know what you think, and also that I haven't completely lost you guys in my neglect. I need your feedback! I missed you guys! *offer's cookie hopefully* Love me?

And as always, please remember that a happy author writes better and faster! So review and make me happy!