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Tides of Change

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Summary: The war is almost at an end, though not in a way anyone would have expected. D/G (Warning: some dark themes)

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Non-BtVS/AtS StoriesLylFR1513,5720479224 Jul 0624 Jul 06Yes
NOTES: This story has somehow magically disappeared into the realm of cyberspace (I did post this when I first wrote it - I DID!). So, here it is again, because I can only seem to find it on one site.

Rating: PG-15 (for some dark themes)
Pairing: Ginny/Draco
Disclaimer: If only I owned them...the things I could do. Alas, I’m not JKR, and own nothing.
A/N: This actually began as a Willow fic, but due to the multitude of other fics that begin the same way, I thought this was better. As this is my first HP fic, it was hard to write the first half of this, so please excuse any stiltedness. Also , this was written with a British accent rolling through my head - did it carry over, or am I just hearing strange, new, foreign voices in my head???
A/N2: Anything I got wrong from canon, please forgive me. I’m only halfway through Book 5, and look to stay that way.


Voldemort had won.

At least, that’s what it felt like at times.

The Wizarding world had become a society where staying hidden equalled staying alive. The Dark Lord’s reign of terror having eclipsed anything in the past, and this time Muggles were taking notice. Granted, they chalked it up to a type of underground gang war, but they still took notice of the ever increasing number of unexplained deaths. The entire of England was taking to triple locking their doors and windows, remaining indoors for the most part, and travelling in large groups when leaving their homes was necessary.

The Wizarding world was much worse off. Those families who had chosen to remain neutral had taken to hiding until the war was won, and they didn’t really care by whom. Though now that the Order had gone to ground, they were much easier targets, no matter what continent they hid on, because Voldemort’s reign was spreading. Soon, there would be nowhere safe left to hide, and that was what was causing Ginny Weasley untold anguish.

The youngest Weasley had been in the Order of the Phoenix since the day she was old enough to join, and up until recently hadn’t had a single regret. Recent events, however, had changed her outlook considerably.

She remembered graduating from Hogwarts, and being so proud when she was accepted into the Auror training program, something no one in her family had yet to do. She believed that as an Auror she would be of more value to the Order than simply as Ginny Weasley, former Head Girl.

No one could have predicted that Voldemort would order a wide scale attack on the Ministry building, especially after that first disastrous attack in her fourth year. With the entire building in shambles, her father and two of her brothers dead, Ginny’s Auror training was cut short. Dumbledore had tried to gather support from the populous, but all he received were accussations and condemnation for not stopping the absolute destruction of one of Wizarding England’s premier organizations.

So he had gathered all members of the Order close, at 12 Grimmauld Place, and continued to fight. Dumbledore relied heavily on the ‘Old Guard’, as it were, to maintain the front lines in the fighting, unwilling to allow the younger generation to lend a hand. Ginny was certain that in his mind, and the mind of many of the others, it was a desire to protect them from the atrocities that war brought on. However, most of them had faced Death Eaters head on numerous times, and felt slighted and angry at the older generation, though none would ever admit it later on.

The tide turned in Voldemort’s favour in a single night. What seemed like hundreds of Death Eaters swarmed into 12 Grimmauld Place, razing it to the ground in mere hours. Many had been taken captive, but most had been killed, including Dumbledore and most of the ‘Old Guard’.

Ginny had been one of the unfortunate ones to be taken captive, and was convinced that the Order was dead. That was until Harry, Ron and Hermione, along with a few others, raided the Manor she was being held in, freeing her and the others with her. After a hasty exit, filled with much hexing and dodging, Ginny was led to where the Order still thrived - a series of passageways and hidden rooms, under the remains of Hogsmeade. Harry told her that it was the last free enclave in the entire British Isles, free from Voldemort and his Dark Arts and his Death Eaters. And for a time, she lived in that ideal reality, where Harry Potter was truly the saviour against Voldemort, and it was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord was defeated and the world returned to normal.

However, Ginny was no longer the same girl who had been taken from 12 Grimmauld Place in London, and she could not live in her fantasy world for long. Shortly after being let loose from the makeshift infirmary, she let herself really see what was around her.

The friends she used to joke and laugh with no longer had any joy in their eyes or hearts. They seemed more like zombies than anything else, able to do nothing but fight and die. Colin Creevey was one notable example, the former chipper, happy, smiling boy could now barely contain himself when it was time to fight the Death Eaters. His family, along with most other families of Muggle students, had been some of the first casualties years ago. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown had both been taken captive with her, but had changed in different ways than she had. They still smiled whenever a male looked their way, but their eyes were dead, and they had no care for what happened to their bodies. They gave of themselves freely and often, much to the other women’s disgust. Ginny’s theory was that they were trying to erase the invisible stain left on them from being passed around the Death Eaters. Ginny could well relate, though her experiences had been slightly different. Not that anyone knew.

Everyone was quite happy to believe that Ginny Weasley, after being held for over six months by Death Eaters, was still the same girl she had been when she graduated from Hogwarts. It was mistakes like that which would cost them the war.

For Ginny had truly changed more than even she could have forseen. The mere fact that she had ever contemplated doing what she was about to do, pointed out that fact most clearly.

Because tonight was the last night Ginny Weasley would be in the resistance’s headquarters.

A barely audible ‘pop’ could be heard behind her, yet she didn’t bother to turn around. She knew who it was, the awareness of his presence old hat by now.

“Did everything go according to plan?” she asked quietly, still staring intently at her reflection in the Muggle mirror. It was one of the few decorations in the room next to the bed and the fireplace - non-‘Floo’. After being ‘rescued’ by Harry, Ginny found she was unable to bear having the mirror expressing its opinions of her, when her own thoughts seemed to parallel that of the magical reflection.

Behind her, in the room reflected in the mirror, an almost imperceptible movement preceded the removal of an invisibility cloak, revealing the lithe form of a man who had long since lost the will to smirk. His white blonde hair was neat, but not held in place with the gel of both their school days, and his cold grey eyes were as serious and immovable as her own.

“Mostly.” he commented, moving up behind her. “Some of the curses took longer than expected to break.”

The old Ginny would have commented on him losing his touch, teasing him about a Pureblood having problems with simple Ministry curses, but that was the Old Ginny. The new one simply nodded, leaning back into his embrace.

“We need to go tonight.” she told him, closing her eyes as he rested his chin on her shoulder, rubbing his cheek against hers. It was a caress that spoke of their time as lovers, and the ease with which they showed one another affection, though that was a recent development.

“Granger found a spell.” It came out as a statement, rather than a question, for they had both been waiting and dreading this moment.

“A few hours ago. They want to perform it in the morning.” And with that, Ginny silently cursed the Muggle-born witch. Ever since her parents had been killed, one of the first Muggle killings, Hermione Granger had been on a mission to rid the world of Voldemort. Harry kept insisting that she was simply determined and dedicated to the cause, but personally, Ginny thought she was slightly cracked.

Hermione wasn’t the only one to be adversely affected by the war. The rest of the Golden Trio were irrevocably changed, as well. Harry had taken over when Dumbledore had been killed, his reputation for adventures in school and the scar on his forehead guaranteeing him the support of the others. But along the way, he had lost touch with some essential part of him that made him ‘Harry’. Now, he was simply ‘The Leader’. Everyone had lost touch with themselves, however, because every person living in the tunnels, fighting against Voldemort, treated him as if he were a god. His word was law, and they would follow him to the death. None more so than Ron. Her beloved brother lived for one thing only, and that was to do whatever Harry said. Not just in relation to Voldemort, but in every decision the bespectacled boy made.

They’d lost their humanity in this bloody war, and Ginny was never more aware of it than she was now.

“Bloody Mudblood. I should have killed her when I had the chance.” he growled, his arms tightening around her body as his eyes flashed with rage. Potter and his idiotic band of Gryffindors had dared to touch what was his, and that was unacceptable.

“Calm down, Draco.” Ginny soothed. “In a few hours we won’t have to worry about any of them, anymore.”

Turning in his embrace, she raised her mouth to his, calming his furious anger the only way she knew how. His lips crashed over hers, devouring her with every heartbeat, claiming with every sweep of his tongue. This woman was his, and he dared anyone to try and take her away. He would do all that was in his power to protect her, and not simply for the fact that they were irrevocably tied together.

Breaking the heated kiss, Draco looked down into her lovely eyes, and leaned his forehead against hers. Simply being around her calmed his riotous emotions like nothing else did, even in the face of Potter and the danger his rival presented.

He remembered the first time he’d seen the littlest Weasley. He’d gone looking for something to amuse himself with in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, knowing that a major Death Eater raid had taken place the night before. He would have been there as well, but the Dark Lord had sent him on a mission to Turkey the week before, and he’d arrived back a day too late. Not that he really minded. The Slytherin preferred the subtle nuances of designing a plan to an outright attack, though he would have liked to see Dumbledore finally get what was coming to him.

The terrified but still defiant red head had grabbed his attention and interest immediately, and he found she was too good an opportunity to give up. And so he’d spent days dutifully trying to break the stubborn Gryffindor, before finally hitting on a new plan. Instead of destroying the girl, he decided to use her. He’d tie her to him so tightly she would never be free, and then when she was totally devoted to him, he’d ‘allow’ her to escape. She would be his link into Potter’s little band, which he would destroy once and for all, thereby rising further in the ranks, wielding power equal to that of his father.

Of course, it hadn’t worked out exactly like he’d planned, but the majority of it was in place. With various charms, curses and hours in bed, he’d bound her to him in a way no other had dared dream. And while not blindingly obedient to him, she was more than willing to be of service. Or she would have been, had Potter not seen fit to ‘rescue’ her before he’d had a chance to completely convert her. But with the magical ‘tag’ he’d placed on her and the ancient ties of a wizard’s marriage binding them for life, he would never lose track of her, and she would never betray him.

It was at a rendezvous four months later that his plans had completely changed. With a few simple sentences, his little pet had totally shattered him. His plans for destroying what was left of the Order were abandoned, and any interest he had in rising through Voldemort’s court vanished in an instant.

A lot changed in that meeting, including her place in his life. Up until that point, Ginny had simply been a means to an end, while providing a great shag or six along the way, her position as his wife not withstanding. But she was now something more that what he considered as a lowly battle bride and tool, and he accorded her the respect that came with that change in position. Their entire relationship fractured and was rebuilt as perceptions on both sides realigned, and he found that his little Gryffindor had more in common with him than he’d originally thought, including a mind for intricate plans and a complete shift in priorities. While neither was switching sides in the war, they now shared a mutual goal that bound them together even tighter than before.

“Yes, in a short while, none of this will matter.” he replied, running his hands down her sides. “No more Potter, no more Voldemort, and no more war.”

Another bruising kiss followed, leaving Ginny breathless and clinging to him for support. Her skin tingled as his hands continued to travel her body, finally resting on her slightly rounded abdomen.

“How’s he doing?” Draco asked, caressing the mound that was his and Ginny’s child. A child that caused them both to throw aside any loyalties to either side in an effort to protect their baby.

“She’s moving around a lot tonight, almost as if she knows something is going to happen.”

“That’s because he’s a smart child.” Draco replied, ignoring her use of the feminine pronoun. The child would be a boy, he was convinced of it.

No smiles lit their face as they discussed their child, no twist to their lips as they teased each other on the gender of the baby, but they could each see the light of amusement in the others eyes. It was all they would allow themselves at this time, until they were safely away from the dangers that threatened their small family.

Because their child was special.

When Ginny had first discovered she was pregnant, she kept the secret close to her heart as she tried to find a way to protect this child from both sides of the war. She would not allow her and Draco’s child to be brought up in the Dark Lord’s presence, to become a third generation Death Eater, but she didn’t want to be anywhere near the Order and the madness it had sunk into.

So she kept quiet, silently planning ways to leave England and hide somewhere else in the world.

That worked for three weeks, until Luna Lovegood decided to replace Trelawney and have a prophetic vision. The blonde Ravenclaw had always been a bit off, but the death of her father in front of her eyes had sent her ‘round the bend just enough to be able to predict the future.

The little twit had divined that a child of light and dark would be born, that would save the world by destroying the Dark Lord. And then to make things worse, while still in her trance-like state, and in front of most of the resistance, had pointed to Ginny and ‘outed’ her. After that, she hadn’t been able to find a moments peace unless she locked herself in her room. Harry was always around to make sure she didn’t accidentally fall and lose the baby, Ron was demanding to know who the father was, though the entire place knew it was a Death Eater, and Hermione simply looked at her like she was the most brilliant creation to ever exist.

She was bleedin’ Mother Saviour to the Wizarding world.

It was Harry, really, who started the panic in Ginny’s chest. He commented on how he wouldn’t wish on anyone the responsibility of taking on a Dark Wizard as a baby, and only wished we could wait until the child was old enough to understand why he or she needed to kill the Dark Lord. That got Hermione thinking, and she started looking for a spell that would speed up the aging process.

As the bushy-haired witch began to attack the problem with a desperation no one had seen before, Ginny started her own plans.

No way was her child going to be used as a tool for either side, and no one was going to prematurely age him or her, simply so they could fight better. She’d had a few weeks of blissful fantasies, where she raised her child with love and laughter, away from all the fighting and dark magics, and she wasn’t giving that up. So she’d met with Draco, the first time since her ‘rescue’, and told him everything.

The strength of his reaction had startled her, but she soon found an ally who was as willing as her to do whatever it took to protect their child.

The two of them had hatched a decidedly dangerous and bold plan, but nothing would stop them from achieving their goal.

“How did Granger manage to find a spell that wouldn’t kill you in the process?” he asked her after a moment. She was only five months along, and any kind of spell or potion that they were planning to use would undoubtedly be very dangerous to Ginny.

“That wasn’t very high on their list of priorities.” she told him, the strain in her voice conveying more than she could possibly give voice to. Seeing his look of outraged surprise, she added “One more casualty of the war, Draco.”

“Those bastards better hope this works, Ginny.” he told her, his anger returning full force. “Or they won’t survive the night. Them or this place.”

Ginny simply gazed up at him, her eyes softening as she saw the fierce glow of protectiveness in them. They may not have the ‘Great Love’ that she’d hoped for in her younger days - they didn’t even have love, really - but they had passion and a sort of friendship, and a child. A child that would make them a family.

Any who dared to threaten that family would pay dearly, for Draco was insanely possessive of what was his, and Ginny and the child were his. He would do anything to protect them, and so would she.

“I’m assuming you got it?” Ginny asked him, referring to the magical device that would hopefully set everything right in their world.

“You doubted me?” he asked with only the barest trace of sarcasm in his voice. Pulling a small object from his robes, Draco showed her the prize from his evenings work.

A Time Turner. A prototype Time Turner, to be precise. Before the Ministry was destroyed, in one of their secret laboratories, the ultimate magical device had been created, and then promptly forgotten. A Time Turner which could move forwards or backwards through time, depending on the direction and settings of the clock. In their case, they were going back in time seven years, to Draco’s fourth year and Ginny’s third.

They had discussed this in depth, deciding which events or event could change the course of the future. Draco grudgingly agreed to let Harry Potter live, in case their plan didn’t work and the Dark Lord returned some other way later on. So they were going back in time to kill Barty Crouch before he could enter Harry’s name into the Goblet of Fire, and ultimately bring back Voldemort. They would both die to protect their child, but more importantly, they would both kill without a moment’s hesitation.

After that, they planned to travel somewhere fairly inconspicuous and live as Muggles, possibly in the Americas, to add yet another layer of protections around themselves and their child.

They hoped that this would prevent Voldemort’s return, thus circumventing a war between the Dark and the Light. She also planned to have a little chat with Harry, telling him that if he ever saw even a hint of the Dark Lord returning, to ‘Avada Kedavra’ the dark cloaked ponce immediately. Voldemort was dead - or at least incorporeal - and he damn well better stay that way. They weren’t going through all this trouble just so he could rise again a few years later.

Ginny found it mildly ironic that in protecting her child from ending the war, she was going back in time to prevent the war from ever beginning, thus fulfilling Luna’s prophecy.

“I’ve never doubted you, Draco.” she told him, one last kiss to his lips.

“Now lets get the hell out of here.”

“As my lady wishes.” he said with his first smile in years.

Several turns of the dial later and the room was empty, leaving no clue behind.

But hopefully a better future to come.

The End.

The End

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