i s o b e l

For the first time in over a year, Isobel was expecting a visitor.

She was nervous. She didn't know what to say or where to start. How to explain everything that had happened since the war. She busied herself with frying an egg for breakfast, though she wasn't the slightest bit hungry.

She had been back to the street corner three times since seeing the girl in Draco's apartment. She had initially forbidden herself from returning, but three times she crumbled. She stayed for only a few minutes on each visit. A few minutes to watch him, to know he was okay. A short few minutes, but enough to put her restless mind at ease.

She wasn't sure what she wanted from Draco, but it often crossed her mind that it would be much easier if he just saw her; if he noticed her of his own accord. That way, she wouldn't have to make the decision herself. But he seemed so aloof, so stuck in his own head all the time. He looked at her, looked past her, but never saw her.

She thought about him with everything she did. Everywhere she went, everything she saw. When her mother was in front of her, he was on her mind. Now, making breakfast, her thoughts were still with him.

Crack, and the egg fell out of its shell, into the sizzling pan. Draco's white-blond hair, his big hoodies.

Crack, and the butter snapped and spattered. His sadness, his silence.

Crack, and Ginny Weasley was standing by the front door, red hair obscured by frosted window panes.

Isobel switched off the hob, fingers trembling. She had essentially lived with Ginny in Hogwarts, had seen her every day for five years. It was almost comical that she was so afraid to face her now.

The door creaked as she opened it. Ginny stood there on the tarmac, hair blowing in the wind. Sweat shone on her forehead.

Tears pricked at Isobel's eyes. "Gin."

Ginny's eyes were fixed on Isobel. She raised a hand to her chest, then dropped it again. Then said, rather astutely; "Holy shit."

Isobel reached out to embrace Ginny; wrapped her arms around her neck. Ginny leaned into the hug, but only slightly; stiffly. When she stepped back, Ginny stared at her, still.

Isobel blew out a breath. "Come in," she said, softly.

Ginny followed her through the house and into the kitchen. She stood by the table, eyes on Isobel.

Isobel kneaded her hands together. "Not like you to be so speechless, Gin."

Ginny shook her head; broke eye contact, finally. "I can't believe it's really you," she said, quietly.

The knot in Isobel's stomach clenched tighter. "Sit down, please," she said. Ginny obliged. She unwound her scarf and placed on the chair beside her; shrugged off her jacket. But she looked uneasy, still. "Can I offer you tea?" asked Isobel. "Coffee?"

Ginny managed a smile. "Oh, I'll need a coffee for this."

Isobel poured their coffee. Then she sat at the table, and took Ginny's hand. "Let me explain."

And so, she explained. She explained how her necklace had been enchanted, how the enchantment had allowed her to survive being attacked, but not without consequence. How she had been in pain for months, but felt better now. How her mother had insisted on staying indoors, in this tiny house, for as long as she could get away with. How Isobel hadn't known that all of her friends thought her dead, until recently.

When she finished, she took a deep breath. Ginny was staring at her; brow twisted in frustration. "God, I'd love to have a word with your mum."

"She didn't -" Isobel bit her lip, unsure of how to explain it. "Everything she did - it didn't come from a bad place. She did it all because she was so afraid of losing me, after having lost my dad, too."

Ginny shook her head dismissively, saying nothing. She ran a hand through her red hair, and as she did, something glinted. Isobel gasped. "Ginny. What is that?"

"Oh." Ginny broke into a smile. She extended her hand, and a small diamond shone from her ring finger. "Turns out Harry Potter is quite the romantic when he's not running around after Voldemort."

Isobel touched the ring lightly, chewing on her cheek. The world had gone on without her; of course it had. She squeezed Ginny's hand. "I'm so happy for you. When's the wedding?"

"Next summer. Will you come?"

Isobel's heart sank. "I'd love to. But . . ."

"But what?" Ginny took back her hand. "You don't think your mum will have set you free by then?"

"It's not like that," replied Isobel. Her voice came out timid. "I just - there's a few things I have to figure out, first."

Ginny tapped a fingernail against her untouched cup of coffee. "Such as?"

Isobel sat straighter; clasped her hands together. "Right. Well, I actually wanted to ask you about Draco Malfoy."

Confusion flickered across Ginny's face. "Okay."

"Well," repeated Isobel. "It has come to my attention. . ." she paused. "I believe that it is possible we might have dated, at one point."

Ginny stared. "Yes, Isobel, you dated. Why are you being weird about it?"

"Right," said Isobel. She clasped her hands tighter. "The thing is - I can't remember him."

Ginny's hand flew to her mouth. "What?"

"I can't remember him. Or I mean, I remember him, but I don't remember dating him."

"Holy shit," said Ginny, again. "Do you think your mum erased your memories of him? To keep you safe, or whatever?"

Isobel shook her head. "My theory is - the way that my mother enchanted my necklace. . . I think it's possible that the charm might have rebounded a bit, so I can't remember certain things. Or I hit my head when I fell. That's what she said in our first few months here, when I realized there were things missing, from my mind. Memories I didn't have anymore." Her necklace was hanging over her t-shirt; she raised a hand to it, contemplative. "Though of course, I haven't told her that I know about Malfoy."

Ginny eyed the necklace. "Do you remember anything else, that didn't have to do with him? From those years - like the DA, the Carrows . . . Umbridge -"

"Yes, I remember all of that. It's just him."

"Oh, that's not suspicious at all," said Ginny. Then, she grabbed the necklace and yanked at it.

Isobel slapped her away. "Ouch, Gin." She rubbed at her neck.

Ginny sat on her hands. "I think you should take that off," she said. She stared at the necklace with apprehension. "What if your mum - in her enchanting the necklace and all that, what if she took your memories of Malfoy? And you can't remember him because you wear it all the time?"

Isobel touched the necklace instinctively; protectively. "She enchanted the necklace long before the war."

"I don't care," retorted Ginny. "Take it off. What if it's blocking your memories of him? Isobel - take it off, or I'll do it for you."

"Okay," said Isobel, indignant. "Fine. But it's not going to work."

Ginny hummed disbelievingly. She watched with impatience as Isobel unclasped the necklace, unwound it from her neck, and placed it on the table between them.

Isobel turned her mind back to Malfoy; saw him walking around his apartment, drinking tea. Tried to imagine that same Malfoy at the Slytherin table in Hogwarts.

She shrugged. "Sorry," she said. "But nothing."

Ginny's face fell. "Oh," she said. "I'm sorry. I really thought that was it."

Despite herself, Isobel's heart ached. She grabbed Ginny's cold coffee and emptied it into the sink. Refilled it from the pot.

"I'm sorry, Iz," repeated Ginny. "Anyway, I'm sure it's all fixable. Memories can be restored, right?"

Isobel sat back down with a sigh. "I hope so."

"So have you told him yet? Malfoy?"

Isobel closed her hands around her mug. "I don't know him."

"Well. You do."

She shook her head. "I don't, though. Don't know if we'd get on; can't understand how we got together in the first place. And -" she tried not to look too spiteful - "there's not much point in telling him I'm alive, because he seems to have a new girlfriend already."

Ginny's eyes widened. "How do you know?"

"Saw them. Together." Ginny was waiting for her to elaborate, so she said, carefully, "I've been to visit him a few times, actually. Just, like, without his knowledge. Through a window."

Ginny flung a hand to her mouth, but Isobel wasn't sure if she meant to conceal alarm or a laugh. "Iz," she said. "That is so creepy."

She frowned. "What else was I supposed to do? I wanted to get to know him, but couldn't let him know I was alive. And it's not like I watch him that much . . ." She faltered. "Just a little."

Ginny giggled, then pulled a stern face. "I'll admit your circumstances are unique. But it's not only an invasion of privacy, you're stalking him. That's not right."

"I know," mumbled Isobel. "Do you think he would. . . If I told him that, would he be angry at me?"

Ginny's expression softened. "I think he would be mad at anyone for that, except you."

Isobel bit her lip. "That's so strange to me," she said. "That he likes me so much. It's all so weird. I don't remember him, I only remember the bad parts. I only remember all of us hating him in our first few years at school. When did we start dating?"

"Your fifth year," said Ginny, without hesitation. "My fourth. In between DA meetings - at some point, you found the time to fall for him."

"And you approved?"

"Not in the slightest," replied Ginny. Her smile faded quickly. "I feel terrible about that now."

"Don't," said Isobel, absently. "At what point did he become a Death Eater?"

Ginny paused. "I think that you should ask him about that. Really, I'm not the person who should be telling you any of this."

"So you think I should speak to him?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

Dread knotted in Isobel's stomach. She looked at the window, trying to gather her thoughts. The morning sun was harsh; she squinted against it. "I'm so different to the person I was back in school," she said, finally. "I always felt so fearless in Dumbledore's Army meetings, but I'm so scared now. All the time."

Ginny touched Isobel's hand. "The war changed all of us, Iz. I'm not trying to - minimize your experience or whatever, really. But you're not alone; we're all different now. There's no coming back from something that horrific."

Isobel's eyes had filled with tears. "I'm so sorry about Fred."

Ginny nodded; managed a small smile. Isobel took her hand and held it. "It's weird, without him," said Ginny softly. "Much quieter. But we're doing okay, now. George runs the joke shop alone, but we all help out now and again. It's good for him to keep busy, you know?" She grasped Isobel's hand. "God. I can't believe it's really you, Iz."

Isobel huffed out a laugh. "And I can't believe you're getting married."

"If you come to the wedding," said Ginny, "I want you to be a bridesmaid. No pressure - I understand that you have a lot to work through. But if you can be there, I would love that."

Isobel nodded. "I'll let you know."

When Ginny left, sunlight gleamed on the chair where she had sat. Isobel stared at it for a while, then started to cry, again.

But this time, it wasn't all sadness. There were tears to be shed, yes, but she didn't feel quite so empty.

This time, there was hope.