The five of them- Ron, Hermione, Harry, and the twins- stood outside the gates with a look of gloom permeating their faces. Four of them despaired due to the lack of accessibility into the place where Ginny was being held, but Ron’s unease was caused by something much more disturbing.

“She’s not here anymore,” he said softly, fingers lightly touching the cool metal of the fence. The pads of his fingers dances along the edges, as if gauging how long she’d been gone.

Hermione slipped her hand into his free one and gave it a squeeze.

“They’ll have to bring her back for their Oktoberfest thing,” Fred said cheerfully. “We could wait. Ambush them or something.”

“It could be too late by then,” Harry said fiercely.

“Or it could be too late already,” George said. “We might have lost her trail.”

Ron’s eyes bored into the wall. He could almost see the bricks swirling into stone and smoke.

“London?” he mumbled.

“We’ll give it a shot,” Hermione said, and directed the little troop back to the train station.

She was not counting on being surrounded by Muggles in London.

“I’m not going to chain you,” he said into her ear. “But I do have a wand that I will hesitate to use. So behave yourself.”

His grip on her wrist was tight enough to be a handcuff. On a crowded street, I’ll make a break for it, she thought.

“I’m hungry,” she said.

Malfoy gave her a look. “You know, you were chosen because you weren’t supposed to be a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, well I stopped being a doormat after awhile. It got boring,” she said glibly, and patted her stomach. “Can we get some food?”

“Only if it’s a pub with poor lighting.”

“I’m thinking that’s not going to be an issue,” she replied.

An establishment suiting his specifications was found rather quickly. It was a shifty side of London, after all. Malfoy chose a booth in the corner. “Get in,” he said quietly. Ginny made a face at him and slid into the seat. He scooted in across from her, trapping her against the wall from beneath the table with a powerful leg. “No quick movements,” he warned.

“Whatever,” she responded. She glanced over the menu.

An overweight waitress with bad teeth and drab hair was over in a moment. “What can I getcha, love?” she asked, bearing a crooked, crusty grin.

“Iced tea and a club sandwich,” Ginny spoke up, even though she knew the waitress was eyeing Draco.

“And for you?” she purred.

"The same," Malfoy said flatly.

“It’ll be up in just a jiff,” she said, and sauntered off in what was supposed to be an attractive manner.

Ginny simply began to giggle.

“It’s not funny,” her companion said sullenly.

"Her teeth are an interesting shade of yellow," she continued.

"If by interesting, you mean putrid, I'm sure I'd agree."

She choked back a laugh and scanned the restaurant for alternative exits. There weren't any windows, but there might be one in the restroom; there most certainly was a small door leading out from the kitchen, and there seemed to be an opening to the heating ducts above the bar.

Ginny believed in being prepared.

He sent them a murderous look, and Hermione's eyebrows shot up.

"You can't expect them to be consumed with worry," she said pointedly.

"Well, any sign of concern would be nice." Harry folded his arms on his chest.

"You should really try to take your mind off of it," Ron suggested, tossing him the paper. "Fretting isn't going to solve the problem any faster."

Easy for him to say, Harry thought mutinously. He's got his girl tucked up beside him.

With a sigh, Harry flipped through Ron's copy of the Daily Prophet, wondering briefly where he had obtained it. Some Ministry scandal stained the front page. It wasn't a particularly new or interesting story, so he only skimmed it. The second page held blurbs about the band who would be singing before the Cup finals, the Irish seeker Aidan Finch, and speculation about the whereabouts of Ginny and himself.

"They've run off to get married," says a close personal source. "In Crete, it's very romantic."

"They're vacationing in the south of France," says another friend. "They've rented a large chateau."

Contradicting tales are found all around, but the truth will show up sometime next week when the semi-finals begin in Quidditch.

It seemed like forever ago since they'd been tangled up in their revolving door relationship, each bit documented by the papers. It hadn't really stopped, but Harry felt removed from it somehow in the few days since her abduction. More focused on what he wanted.

He wanted her back, dammit.

He missed the way her hair smelled, her laugh, her skin. He missed her cooking and her tendency to orchestrate their making-up. He missed that sparkle in her eye, that spunk that set her apart from every other girl he'd ever met.

And if any of that had been changed by this nightmare, he was going to have to kill someone.

And being as Voldemort was kind of hard to get to, he just might have to settle for her irritating twin brothers.

Ginny ate it regardless. "Of course it sucks. You couldn't have expected the meals to be stellar in a dump like this."

"I'm going to send this back," he said.

"You'll just get another crappy meal back," she said, shrugging. "Just deal with it and eat."

A snarl ripped from his pretty face. "I don't have to deal with anything. I'm a Malfoy, and I get what I want." His glare was violent.

She burst into laughter. "You are a snob, you know that?"

Within minutes she had polished off the substandard sandwich and the iced tea. She was just dabbing the corners of her mouth with a napkin when a shriek rent the air.

"FRÄULEIN!"

She blinked as a tall, muscular man skipped across the room. Not only was it unusual to see someone skip, but it seemed particularly out of character for some body-builder to be doing so.

A rapid-fire string of German endearments flew from the individual's mouth as he clasped his hands to his chest.

And then she recognized him.

"Günter!" she said brightly, silently thanking the good Lord. "How are you doing?"

Günter Granger grinned broadly. "Sehr gut, sehr gut. I hear that your brother has absconded with meine Cousine. Or is it ab-scone-ded?" He pondered this for a half a second and then shrugged. "I have poor English."

"Absconded," Ginny affirmed.

"I like ab-scone-ded better," he said. "I am fond of scones."

"Where have they gone off to?" she asked.

"Wales, the land of faeries. Gotten married and shaved a few years off of the dear Doktors Granger."

"Virginia," Malfoy interrupted in honeyed tones seeming almost genuine, "please tell your friend that we have pressing business to attend to." Nothing on his face betrayed that his foot was stamping insistently upon her unfortunate toes.

"Business?" Günter exclaimed in shock. "For so pretty a girl as she? I must protest! Fräulein, come with me, we shall go harass my relatives. It shall be much more fun."

"She really needs to stay with me," Malfoy said firmly, eyes narrowing. "Tell him, dear."

Günter took Ginny's arm forcefully and prodded her out. Ginny's legs were still caught up in Draco's, but he was no match for a burly German.

Provoked to the point of confrontation, Malfoy whipped out his wand. Hermione's cousin regarded it curiously, then snapped it easily in two and tossed it in Ginny's empty glass of iced tea.

"We'll be back in a few hours," Günter said carelessly. "Have fun in London, ja?"

"You know, Günter," she said as they walked out of the pub, "I haven't been this glad to see anyone in a long time."

"She was hot," Fred said dreamily.

"She was hot," George agreed.

"Would you two shut up?" Harry demanded. The twins proceeded to taunt him mercilessly and Harry's temper exploded.

"You need to rest," Hermione said quietly to Ron, ignoring the progressing scene.

"So do you," he replied, rubbing his aching temples, "but time isn't going to stand still."

"We'll go to my parents' place," she said. "An hour's nap will renew your focus."

With a sigh, he studied the ground. "I'd need more than an hour."

"The others can continue looking if need be. We can keep in touch with them."

"Your father wants to castrate me."

She flashed a half-hearted smile and said, "You are bigger than him."

He couldn't think of any more opposition. He was exhausted, physically and mentally. "We're going to the townhouse." Ron threw the words over his shoulder. "It's only a few blocks away."

"What about Ginny?" Harry said immediately.

Ron heaved a sigh. "We're in no condition to keep looking at this point. We'll resume the search in a couple of hours."

Harry glared at him.

"It really must be a talent to look that pissed off all the time," Fred said to George.

"A gift," said George sagely.

"Why do I get the feeling they're not helping?" Ron asked under his breath.

"Because they aren't." Hermione matched her strides to his.

Günter tapped a finger thoughtfully over his mouth. "I am in need of some funds. Why not appeal to my loving family?"

"Hopefully they will welcome us both," Ginny said.

"Of course they will," he said with a scoff. "We are adorable." With that, he rang the bell.

Dr. Granger opened the door with a flicker of surprise. "How pleasantly unexpected," she said, beaming. "Has your brother sent you to calm my husband down?"

"I'll do what I can to help," Ginny promised. She relaxed, knowing her fears of rejection were off base. She jerked a thumb at Günter. "I picked him up in a pub. Can we come in?"

"Of course," Hermione's mother said.

"Thank you so much, Dr. Granger," Ginny said, emphasizing the address with sweetness.

The woman's heart practically melted with the respect given to her. "You're the nicest girl," she sniffled, and ushered the two of them inside.

"We're in the kitchen, dear."

Hermione tugged on his sleeve and he obediently (if a bit hesitantly) followed her. The twins and Harry lagged behind.

They found Dr. Granger in the kitchen, serving tea. "That must have been a terrible ordeal," she was saying sympathetically. Seated at the table was Hermione's cousin from Germany, and...

His sister?

"Ginny?" Ron blurted, peering over his wife's shoulder.

"I saved her from a very boring individual over on the other side of London," Günter announced. "Attractive, but dull as those shoes you have on."

"Malfoy," Ginny clarified, grinning a bit. She stood and crossed the room. "He wasn't very happy about it."

"Thank god you're okay," Hermione said fervently, embracing her new sister-in-law.

"Harry, get your ass in here!" Ron shouted, twisting his frame towards the door.

Harry, looking surly still, plodded into the kitchen. When he caught sight of Ginny, his jaw dropped and he threw his arms around her. "Oh, god."

"Please don't muss my hair," she said. "I finally have it looking decent for the first time in days."

"I don't give a damn about your hair," he said feverishly, and crushed his mouth to hers.

Hermione and Ron primly turned their backs to the passionate reunion. Fred and George, who had just entered the room, showed no regard whatsoever.

"Will you marry me?" Harry asked after breaking the kiss (presumably for air.)

Fred grumbled as he fished out a couple of galleons and slapped them in George's palm.

Ginny cocked her head. "No."

Fred quickly retrieved the coinage and smirked.

"What do you mean, no?" Harry said in outrage.

"I mean you're going to have to ask me better than that," she shot back irritably.

"That was a lousy proposal," Günter piped up.

"I don't need your help," Harry snapped. "Dammit, Ginny, I love you. Marry me."

"I'm going to have to think about it," she said, flouncing out of the room.

"Ginny!" came his exasperated cry.

Ron cleared his throat. "Well, um, Dr. Granger-"

"You can call me Mum, dear," she interrupted.

"Er, Mum. Hermione really needs to nap for a little while, so if you'll excuse us..."

"Oh, of course," she said, waving a hand dismissively. She gave a brief hug to her daughter. "Your father should be civil by dinnertime."

"Thank you, Mum," Hermione said gratefully. Ron wrapped his arm around her shoulder and they walked up the stairs.

Voldemort was still out there, and the shadows remained.

"Ron," Hermione yawned, "sleep. You know you need it."

His arms loosened around her. "I'm trying."

"Just relax," she urged, brushing her lips to his cheek.

"I'm trying," he repeated. He moved a hand to over her stomach, where his daughter grew within her.

"Everything's going to be okay now," she said placatingly. She patted his hand, turned over, and fell promptly asleep.

"That's the thing," he whispered softly into her hair. "I'm afraid it's not."