Harmonious Fire

After that conversation, she kept out of his way. Blaise never questioned what they had spoken about, and he still didn't ever give her anymore details about what he and Draco were doing. She still couldn't believe he was keeping her in the dark, he professed to love her yet he was constantly lying to her. However, after another three months of their disappearing acts, they both just stopped. Draco would still leave, but Blaise stayed. He would sit in the study and pore over ancient texts, scribbling notes and notes. He spent a lot more time with her, even so much as taking her shopping to the nearest muggle town. This had surprised her,
"Who'd have guessed," She had said to him, as they wandered through the cobbled streets of the ancient Italian town, "That Blaise Zabini, heir to a long line of pureblooded ancestry, would feel so at home in a muggle town. Shopping in muggle shops, and eating muggles food." He had smiled, and said,
"I, unlike some people we know," His voice held the hint of a smirk, "Have no problems with muggles. They cannot help their unfortunate situation. Their inferiority to us. And I happen to fucking love the ice cream you get at that little cafe over there." He pointed out a cafe on the corner of a sweet little side street. He bought her a chocolate ice cream cone, smiling flirtatiously at the pretty waitress, thanking her in flawless Italian. He had earned himself an elbow in the side for that little show. He had chuckled and led her away. They continued their walk, looking for all the world like a young couple, in love. No one around them knew of the responsibilities that rested on their shoulders. And for now, they didn't care. They reached the tiny stone bridge, overlooking a winding river. They stopped, though the circumstances of their residency where less then desirable, she loved it here. It was breathtakingly beautiful, just like him. She turned to look at him. His dark hair and dark eyes, perfectly the Italian god. He smiled, his lips curling perfectly,
"What?" He said suddenly, she laughed,
"Nothing, was just thinking." He turned to her then, staring down into her eyes. Everything in his gaze told her he would make her spill it one way, she gushed, "Just, under different circumstances, this could have been the perfect life. Me and you, here together, alone."
"We're alone right now." She shook her head,
"Not really Blaise, are we?" His brow raised in confusion. She looked back out over the bridge, "It feels that sometimes there's more than just two of us in this relationship. Its like something always comes up and we are never together anymore." He frowned then,
"You mean Draco."
"Yes. And Hermione even. I know what happened with the three of you at Hogwarts." He blanched then, his eyes almost glazing over. She cautiously continued, "I know that you and Draco used to, well, that you would fuck her together. Even when we were still together. I'm not angry, I just wish it wouldn't come between us now, she chose her life. If he wasn't constantly reminding me of it every five minutes, I'd feel differently." Blaise nodded slowly,
"I'll talk to him. In the meantime, I don't want to ever feel that what happened back then is coming between us. That's over now, I want us Red. I've been meaning to ask you for a while, but I was waiting for the right time. Will you marry me?" Her slight frown, turned into a huge grin, she flung her arms around his neck and said,
"Yes. Oh my god, a thousand times yes!" He picked her up and swung her round, kissing her intently. He looked around, making sure no one saw as he apparated them back to his suite. He laid her on the bed, covering her face with kisses, nipping her earlobe,
"Love you Red." He whispered, she smiled, a huge, happy smile,
"I love you to Blaise Zabini, always have, always will." They celebrated their engagement all night. Neither hearing as Draco returned.
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He raised his hand and cut her off, grimacing in disgust,
"I don't need to hear the rest of that," Her face was still tearstained, "Tell me about the night Lucius Malfoy was killed." She hadn't wanted to recall the details of that day. One of the worst in her short life. It had happened mere days after her wedding. Truly, it was when she started to believe that she had made a mistake. Harry glared down at her, "Well?" He said impatiently, Ginny snarled in haste,
"I'm getting to it. I told you how Draco returned to the Dark Lord after Hermione's wedding? He was to work with Blaise and his Father to be the head of the cause. They worked for him for months, spreading his terror for all to know. Blaise would always come back exhausted, and never speak of what he was up to. Then there was the night he came back injured. It was getting more dangerous. What I didn't know then was that Blaise and Draco were pulling their own missions, Voldemort never knew. It always started the same," She closed her eyes, and thought back to that time,

It always started the same, they'd come back for days and lock themselves in the library. Draco had crates and crates of books sent from the far corners of the world. He caught her poking around in one, once. Needless to say he was beyond angry, he'd shout and curse at her until Blaise had to come out and drag him away. She was tiring of him. The nights they disappeared always followed the same pattern. She would hear them have one of their blazing rows, and Blaise would come to bed. Always about two hours later, Draco would come in and haul him out of the bed and she wouldn't see them for days. Blaise always returned first, usually with some cut or bruise marring his perfect skin. But this night was different. Ginny had been taking a long, hot bath when she had the crack. Assuming it was Blaise returning, she waited for him to seek her out. She waited, but no voice called to her. She bolted out of the bath and threw a robe on. Racing to the entrance hall. Hearing someone gasping, she ran to the source, and skidded to a halt at the sight of him. Half collapsed on the floor, doubled over. His expensive robes in tatters, blood smearing his blond hair. Only one person. She screamed,
"Where is he Draco?!" Her heart was thundering in her chest, ice began to drip through her, she went to the man in front of her and hauled him straight, shaking him, "DRACO! Where the fuck is my husband?!" There was something dead about the way he was looking at her, there was a huge gash above his eye, and it was dripping blood down his face, it chilled her bones, froze her in place, she hardly registered the second crack behind her, and then the voice that seeped the heat back in her body,
"Red?" She rounded on him, racing straight for his arms, not realising the state he was in. He clasped onto her. Then blanched as she started beating her arms against him,
"Don't you ever fucking do that to me again Blaise Zabini. I thought you were fucking dead! You always come back first, thats how it is! And you..." She turned, pointing at Draco, "Why didn't you say something, you come here looking worse then usual. Then when I ask you a question, you don't bloody answer!" The dead look in the blonds eyes, turned dark, his mouth curled upward in a sneer and he said,
"Not everything is about you." He pushed passed them and strode down the hall, limping slightly as he went. She turned back to Blaise, now being able to fully take in the sight of him. His robes were also torn, flecks of mud spattered all over them. His left eye was blackened and he was clutching his side.
"Leave him be. Can you get me a bandage, I think I've broken a few ribs." She nodded mutely, then said quietly,
"Come on, come to the kitchen." She put her arm around him and helped him forwards. He winced with every step. "What happened Blaise?" He grimaced with the pain,
"The usual." She shook her head,
"No. This isn't usual. A few cuts and bruises I can deal with. But this is different." They reached the kitchen and she sat him at the counter, "Take off your shirt, I'll try and strap you up the best I can." She went to the cupboard and pulled out the medi-potions kit. She had stocked with a few bandages, her Father had always thought muggle ways best. She guessed they might come in handy one day. She heard a grunt, and turned, she never thought she'd say this in her life but he looked worse with his shirt off. His back was to her, and there wasn't a patch of skin that wasn't covered in ugly bruising. There was cut running parallel to the fading scar on his side. He was a mess. She dabbed at the blood that was dripping down his back, mopping it up. Pulling out her wand, she uttered a few healing spells, the cut began to close and his breath hitched as his ribs began to knit themselves back together. She bandaged up his torso, for support. Then sat on the stool in front of him. "Tell me." He sighed, and told her everything.
"We've been working undercover. Trying to find a way to destroy him. Years ago, Tom Riddle ripped his soul into seven pieces. Transferring them into items he saw as important in his life. Dumbledore, was the one who discovered it. He told Potter, and Potter told Draco. Not willingly of course, but all the same. There's a way to kill him, and it means destroying every part of his soul, before we can get the last bit. The final piece that still resides in his shriveled up old corpse. Thats what we've been doing, tracking them down and trying to finish this." It took her a while to process this, but it gave her a glimmer of hope. Voldemort could be destroyed and maybe, just maybe she could somehow see her family again. She said,
"How many have you found?" Blaise, stood up and walked to the drinks cupboard. Pouring himself a glass before he continued,
"You helped destroy the first one yourself, love. In your second year. That diary that Lucius slipped you held a piece of Riddle's soul. That was number one, Dumbledore took care of the second. We had Potter and Weasley take care of the next two. By the end of seventh year we were down by four. Since then we've had no luck. But Draco thinks that Potter and his gang have taken care of the fifth. So we just need the last one, then Draco can finish it once and for all."
"He wants to finish it?" Blaise nodded, she knew there was more. Something about what had happened tonight, something that had gone wrong for them. She took a deep breath, "Something happened tonight, didn't it?" He looked over at her,
"Lucius caught us. We were meant to be on mission, but we had a lead that we needed to follow. We were in the wrong place at the time, so Draco did what he had to do. But not before he had hit us a few times first. Worst came to worst and we had to do it. We left his body rotting in an alley in Paris. They'll find it soon enough." His voice was so cold, as if talking of murder was everyday. She suspected for him it was. He downed his drink, "I have to go to him." He left her in the kitchen, staring mutely at the ceiling. She shouldn't have to be dealing with this, she had just been married for God's sake. This was all Draco Malfoy's bloody fault. If he wasn't here, it would be perfect. How could she even live with a man who was seemingly comfortable with murdering his own Father. She went to go find the both of them and stop this madness once and for all. Before he got them all killed. Nothing on earth could have prepared her for what she saw that night. They didn't hear her push the door to the study open. Neither of them turned so intent they were. Her mouth dropped open, and she backed out letting the door slam. Running down the hall she locked herself in her en suite and proceeded to throw up.
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"It explained everything," She muttered, whilst Harry looked on. "It explained why they were so ridiculously closed off from everyone. Why they worked so well together," He sighed, and said,
"What the fuck are you on about?" She growled back, a blank look in her eyes,
"You wanted to know everything. So here it is, the night Lucius died was the night I found out about my husbands certain proclivity for his best friend." Harry's eyes popped out of his head, he hadn't seen that one coming. "It was her that bought them together like that. Blaise always loved him, but Hermione was the final part of the equation. Without her everything was wrong, and Draco couldn't stand it. Blaise was his only connection to that. I felt I had no right to object. That bastard dictated everything we did." Harry shook his head, his expression softening a little, only a little though,
"You could have got out. Left. Why didn't you?" She didn't answer, just kept on looking at the floor, blankly. Then finally, after what seemed like a lifetime of silence, she said,
"Because I loved him, and I love him still. I stayed for Blaise." This was when Harry rounded on her, his expression turning feral, almost wild, he snarled,
"Then why the fuck are you sitting here?" A lone tear trailed its way down her face, he knew the answer, of course he did. His answer was currently sprawled out on the floor of the atrium behind them. She began to cry silently, her voice a hoarse whisper, a slight sneer lifted her mouth,
"She made him watch, she made him watch them fuck her before they killed him. Then they just dumped his body in the hall like it was trash. Blaise gave me a choice, return with the body and never come back or stay with them. I couldn't. Not after what she did, I couldn't watch Blaise leave me for them." Harry was trying to keep back his grief at the loss of his best friend, but it was spilling over,
"Did you even try to stop it from happening? Did you even fucking try?" She shook her head,
"I didn't know, I swear I didn't know until it was too late." There was silence then, neither spoke. She couldn't help herself from wondering what happened to her now. Harry would probably have her thrown in jail. More than likely they would seek the death penalty. She was marked a Death Eater after all. She knew she deserved it. He looked at her, as if he knew what she was thinking, for the most part he wanted to throttle her but a part of him wondered. Seeing her here, like this made him long for his Ginny Weasley back. He took a breath,
"I can't stop what's going to happen to you. But am willing to keep you out of jail long enough for me to find them and make them pay. I'll need your help. But know this, I don't trust you, I won't ever trust you. There is nothing between us." She nodded, then said almost timidly,
"And after?" His eyes darkened,
"I don't know. For now, you're working with us." She was sure she had changed a lot to him, but what surprised her was how different he was. Of course, she knew that he wouldn't have been willing to welcome her back with open arms. Even if he had done, she still belonged to Blaise. She was his wife after all. That aside, Harry had hardened, his face had hardly betrayed emotion when he had interrogated her, nothing of the boy she had loved remained. She thought then to her family, what would they think of her?
"My parents? I want to see them." She said suddenly. He shook his head,
"No. They've just lost their child. I won't put them through seeing their prodigal death eater in the same night." He motioned for her to get up and follow him, then halted her before they went through the door. "Give me your wand." She hesitated, he gritted his teeth, "I won't ask you again." She handed it over, what use was it to her now? She was completely and utterly at the mercy of Harry's discretion. What would he tell the Ministry to keep her out of jail for the time being? She didn't have time to think further, as soon as they were out the door, he had handed her to a bunch of Aurors and she was dragged off for questioning. Kingsley Shacklebolt came over to the young man, watching the Aurors go, and said,
"Well Harry?" He avoided the question,
"Where did they take him?" Kingsley sighed, the loss of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger was a huge blow, they had all been shocked to find out the true nature of Hermione's relationship with Draco Malfoy. And Ron's death, that would hit Harry the hardest, especially with his former fiances return.
"His parents took him back home, he's to be buried come sunrise. I hate to have to ask this, but did you get much out of her?" Harry face darkened,
"I got what I needed." Kingsley half turned to look at him,
"And what's that?" Harry half smiled, despite the circumstances,
"A spy in Malfoy's camp. Keep the questioning short. I'm sending her back." Though, as the Minister for Magic, Kingsley should have disagreed. He did not, war had changed him to, and the kindly man had almost disappeared. Ginny Zabini could and would be a huge asset to them. So, he nodded quietly and went to give the order. Harry spun on his heel and arrived outside the Burrow. All the lights were off, though a candle could be seen burning steadily in the window. That candle would never extinguish. A reminder of their lost son. Harry bowed his head, those responsible would pay, and Ginny would be paramount in bringing it about. If she was caught, Malfoy would kill her without a second glance. There was small twinge in Harry at the thought of that, but for the most part he didn't care. All his lost love was to him now was another asset. A very expendable asset.
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He didn't speak to either of them for days, just kept to his room or could be found sitting in the vast marble hallway staring at the spot at which she had last been seen in. Hermione had tried to talk to him, but he had shrugged her off. She was worried, and Draco was worried. It wasn't healthy for them, Blaise was the third part of their being. Without him, something seemed missing. But he was content to mourn the defection of his wife. Draco had raged about it, swearing that if he ever saw her again she'd be joining her brother in the afterlife. Blaise ignored him, just shrugged and locked himself away. What the other two residents of the house did not know, and Blaise would not tell them, is that if she walked back into his life, he would kill her himself. Because for no reason on earth would that woman return willingly after what they had done to her. And knowing Potter, he would most likely see her as an asset. A spy, to throw a theoretical spanner in the works. But Blaise was to smart for that, and Potter would learn from his many mistakes sooner or later. The dark Italian smiled in the fading light, his look deceptively angelic. He would make sure his dear wife knew what happened to people who crossed him. And she had crossed him for the last time.