Somehow, Ginny Weasley (she'd returned to her maiden name after the divorce, an amicable, quiet separation) had managed not to think about exactly how it would feel to return to Hogwarts after all these years. She'd left so much behind here. Left a lot, gave a lot, lost even more. And still she's grinning, bright and genuine, as she walks through the gates, into the halls, dodges student and professors alike, grateful for her youthful appearance, for the way she knows these halls as well as her home. No one questions a woman who looks like she knows where she's going.

She'd been greeted on the way in, of course, but she hadn't yet informed her children she was on campus, though they knew to expect her. There was someone else she was interested in finding first. Maybe it was a whim, or nostalgia, professional courtesy, or all of the above. Couldn't possibly be she just wanted to catch up with an old friend.

Albus had kept her updated, the dear, so she knew exactly where to find Draco Malfoy. Professor Malfoy. Somehow, it wasn't surprising he'd returned to stay. Even less surprising he'd been the first to hold the position for years. More than one curse had seemed to break within these walls.

She knocks on the closed and locked (yes, she tried the door without knocking first) door and waits. And knocks again.