Harry moved Hermione behind him, instinctively shielding her from Draco.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" sneered Ron; still kneeling in the wet sand, cradling Dobby's cold, limp body.
Clearly still shaken, Draco's eyes darted around the frazzled group before him, too nervous to make eye contact with anyone. He was still fighting his natural instinct to run, to avoid the scene before him. "I-I played no part in what my family did. I refused," he explained nervously. "The things they did--" shaking his head, "I wanted out, I just didn't know how to leave..."
Draco swallowed the lump that was threatening to form in his throat. "I-Is she okay?" he gestured towards Hermione, who was now clinging to Harry's side.
Hermione didn't reply, she merely continued trembling against Harry.
Harry automatically held her tighter, "I don't know," he replied solemnly.
Ron sized up Draco, still wary of trusting him. "You all head inside," Ron nodded towards the small cottage in the distance. "It's okay, it's Bill and Fleur's place. I'll…take care of Dobby…" his voice sounding strained.
Harry hesitated for a moment; he cast one final glance at Dobby's lifeless body, silently mourning the heroic house elf. He wished that he could help Ron with Dobby, but his primary concern was still Hermione. Moving forward slowly, he helped Hermione walk toward the house; Luna followed closely behind.
"I'll help," offered Draco softly.
Ron studied him carefully, but nodded his approval. "Bill probably has some shovels we could borrow," at Draco's questioning look, he continued, "we're burying him properly."
Once everyone was inside, they gathered at the lengthy, beige wicker table. Ron and Draco sat across from each other; their clothes now appeared to have a light layer of fresh sand on them. Minutes passed by in uncomfortable silence.
Hermione was the only one absent from the group; Harry had insisted that she rest upstairs.
Bill looked up as he heard Harry coming down the stairs, "Well? How is she?"
"She's…been through a lot. She's exhausted," replied Harry sullenly.
As Harry joined the group at the table, Ron leaned over to whisper, "Any idea about the twins?"
Harry numbly shook his head, "No clue."
Ron patted his shoulder in support; turning his attention to Malfoy. "What did Bellatrix mean when she said it was 'too bad Harry couldn't save 'em all'?"
Draco stammered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, not wanting to be the bearer of this bad news.
"My aunt, she…" he trailed off, avoiding Ron's icy glare.
Bill slowly stepped forward, "She killed Ginny."
Silence filled the room once more, as the group appeared horrified.
"What?!" cried Ron.
Bill crossed the room to embrace his brother, wrapping an arm around him in comfort.
Malfoy dropped his head, fixating on the table in front of him, ashamed.
Ron's voice grew louder, more demanding, "How? When?!"
"The night Bellatrix kidnapped Hermione. Fires erupted throughout the house from her curses. Ginny was just in the wrong place at the wrong time," Bill explained slowly.
Harry continued to sit there, lost for words; echoing everyone's reaction around the table.
"Dad informed us, but when he went to check on you and Harry at Grimmauld Place, you'd gone," said Bill.
Harry lowered his head, mentally kicking himself. He had convinced Ron to go to Malfoy Manor with him. It didn't mean that Ginny would still be alive, but that perhaps Ron could've been informed promptly of her death; at least before Bellatrix could enjoy rubbing it in his face.
Ron jerked Bill's arm off roughly, using his sleeve he wiped away the tears streaming down his face. "I'm going to bed."
Luna stood from the table, taking Ron's hand, their fingers interlacing as they continued up the stairs together quietly.
Bill and Fleur bid Harry and Draco goodnight as they, too, headed up to bed.
Malfoy cautiously glanced at Harry, "I really am, sorry...for what they did to you and your friends."
Harry nodded mutely, "Yeah, well…" he trailed off; too exhausted and depressed to offer any further conversation. Standing, he dragged himself upstairs to join Hermione in bed.
Malfoy eyed his surroundings cautiously, spotting a plush sofa in the adjacent room; he turned in for the night.