A Marriage of Convenience

Disclaimer: All that you recognise belongs to JKR.

Warning: None.

A/N: I know some of you may feel like there has been a long wait since the last chapter, but I think I need to make it clear to you that I was only able to get so many chapters written previously because I was on holiday. Now I am back at university and have other priorities than just fanfiction, so while I will try to get chapters done as often as I can, I can’t promise that they will be updated as often. Your patience will be greatly appreciated.

The Request

Draco settled himself more comfortably on the squishy chair, long limbs stretching out so that he appeared to be lounging very much at his ease. On his lap rested a well- worn, paged novel, and every so often his lips would twitch into a smile. He turned the page of his book, grey eyes glancing towards the window where he was currently sitting near. The thick, velvet curtains had been pulled back, allowing the very pale rays of the sun to slip past the frosted coating of morning dew blanketing the glass, giving a faint but adequate amount of light to the room that was filled with quite an impressive collection of books. He could not see very clearly outside, the view being too hazy, but he knew enough to tell that it was not yet 6am. Most of the guests would still be asleep, and he was sure that only he and the house-elves were brave enough to venture the chilly morning air at so early a time. That was what he wanted though, and once more fixing his eyes on the black letters printed on the page of his book, Draco immersed himself in the words of his favourite novel.

It was not a rare occurrence for Draco to wake up early and come to his favourite spot in his own private library. He was a man who enjoyed solitude, despite what many believed, and he was a man who took enjoyment in such simple pleasures as reading a good book. That was why he was in the library at this very moment when all others would have been in bed. In the early morning he could escape from the tedium of incessant chatter and questions that people insisted on inflicting him with, and in the library he could be comfortable enough to read, knowing that he would not be disturbed.

Perhaps it was surprising that such a person as him should enjoy so much quiet solitude, and yet it was not really surprising at all. When he was younger he had enjoyed attention, and he would be lying if he said he still didn’t enjoy it now, but even he liked to have the peaceful tranquillity of solitude. There was only so much a person could handle with society’s stupidity, and perhaps that was why Draco found himself hiding even more in his private library whenever his mother would invite guests over. He did enjoy the company of Theodore Nott, who at least had a head on his shoulders, but Draco didn’t give a scrap about any of the other people his mother had invited. Blaise was a vain fool, Pansy could only be described as a malicious harpy, and Daphne was a pretty twit. The others didn’t even register to him, and Ginny… Ginny Weasley was just annoying.

Thinking of the redhead brought a nasty scowl to mar his normally impassive features. His eyes stopped roaming the words of his book, pausing in frustration to form an angry glare as he thought about Ginny Weasley. He still did not understand why his mother had insisted on inviting her here, and he had tried to avoid the woman as much as possible. The only time he had talked to her was when she had first come here, and that had been a surprise to him enough as it was. He knew of course that his mother wanted her to come to the little party they were having, but he had not been expecting her to be there so early. Seeing her had completely thrown him off his balance, and then to have Armande start spouting that rubbish about how he, Draco, would like her because she had red hair had only made it worse. Of course he actually had expressed a fascination with redheaded woman to his young cousin while sojourning in France, but that was not the point; the point was that he had already made the mistake in being thoughtless enough to admit that he found Ginny intriguing, and now thanks to Armande’s comment she probably thought he liked her or something, which he did not…

In truth, Draco was never really comfortable around women. He was not exactly a smooth-talker like his father, and cold politeness was about as nice as he could get. Most of the time he just offended the women he talked to, but the majority of them were so enamoured with him, or rather his name and money, that no offence in the world could drive them off. Ginny was different though. She didn’t fawn all over him, and she apparently had been offended by his words that night at the ball. He couldn’t really help that though; her family were the dirt of society, and it wasn’t like he had done it intentionally.

Huffing irritably to himself, Draco snapped the book shut and glared out the window. The blanket of frost on the glass had started melting away with the warm beams of light, and Draco could see the sun firmly establishing itself in the milky blue sky. Mist gathered out on the fields in the distance, looking like smoky snakes swirling through the trees and crisp, white grass, and he knew that soon the house would start stirring and once more he would be subjected to the prattling conversations of his peers. He really hated his mother sometimes for feeling obligated to give such ‘get-togethers’, and in doing so forcing him to attend as well. Considering this was his house, he couldn’t even escape from it.

The sound of the old, wooden door creaking open in a wheezy voice caught his attention, and eyes narrowing in faint irritation at whoever had been stupid enough to disrupt his reading time, Draco swung his head around just in time to see Ginny Weasley walk slowly into the library. Her red hair had been pulled back into loose curls on top of her head with a blue ribbon, and she was wearing a simple, white dress with a light blue sash tied around the middle. In that moment he was struck by how natural her beauty was; her skin bathed with the light of the pale, morning sun; her chestnut eyes seeming to sparkle with golden hues… and then she saw him and all radiance died. Her eyes narrowed in frustration, or maybe it was just from annoyance that he was here too; Draco wasn’t really sure, but what he did know was that she was not pleased to see him.

Well, she may not be pleased to see him, but he was most definitely not pleased to see her. This was his library and his time for peace and quiet. No Weasley was going to spoil that, let alone one that seemed to have made it her mission to be an ungrateful wench every time he was nice to her- something he took no pleasure in knowing he had done. He wasn’t sure why he had lied for her that day at Celia Adderson’s home, and in a fit of what he saw great wisdom, had decided not to reflect too much upon it.

She was still just staring at him in that rude way of hers, and feeling increasingly irritated, Draco decided he’d best take matters into his own hands before they both fell into a staring- or in this case glaring- competition.

“Can I help you?” He asked a bit more dryly than what would have been deemed polite, arms folding in what could have been seen as a protective stance on anyone else but on Draco just looked arrogant and insolent.

Ginny glanced wistfully about the quiet room brimming with imagination from the immense amount of books stacked in ridiculously high bookshelves that outlined all four walls of the small library. He followed her gaze, watching how her eyes widened as they scrolled up row upon row of books, her jaw dropping slightly. He couldn’t help but be amused at how awestruck she seemed to be by his collection, and felt almost proud that something he owned should inspire such a childlike happiness in her face. Even if she was a Weasley, he still had his pride. This was his private library after all, filled with his books.

Her eyes snapped back to his face, as if she had only just realised he had spoken to her. “Is this the library?”

Draco shook his head silently. “This is my library. The Manor’s library is on the first floor.”

He saw her lips twist into a scowl, and felt faintly satisfied that he had disappointed her so much. She could read the books in the main library all she liked, most of which he found incredibly boring, but she was not going to read his that he had painstakingly collected.

Ginny once more glanced about the room, eyeing some of the books with longing. She stared at him again and folded her arms stubbornly. “Well, there’s enough room in here for the both of us...”

Her voice sounded defiant, as if she was seeing whether Draco would tell her to go away or not; which was closer to the truth than she probably realised. Draco practically had told her to go away with his first greeting, and he thought it was just like her to not take the hint that she was not wanted here. She was incredibly obstinate he had discovered.

“There’s even more room in the main library,” Draco replied evenly, though the dry tones had not quite left his voice. It would have been clear to anyone that he did not want her there, but once again Ginny proved to be stubborn, as she eyed him with a mulish look on her face.

“I’m sure it won’t hurt you if I just borrow some of your books and take a seat in here,” she persisted, the mulish scowl on her face becoming more apparent. “You won’t have to talk to me.”

That was not the point. He didn’t want her in here at all, and it didn’t help her case that he was not the sharing type. A couple of years ago he would have had no qualms in telling her to go away very rudely- as well as adding in a few nasty comments about her family- but his mother had taken great care to drum into his brain the importance of propriety and manners since his graduation from Hogwarts. And so, thanks to Narcissa’s many homilies, Draco had now resigned himself to being polite, no matter how forced it seemed sometimes. Unfortunately that meant he couldn’t always get his way, which was something he was not too thrilled about, and one of the main reasons he slipped up so much in being that perfect, polite gentleman. He was a rather thoughtless and selfish young man, and that was never a good combination.

His grey eyes narrowed in slight frustration, taking on that irritable gleam many of his friends knew to be a sure sign that he was about to get very blunt and rude. “There are plenty of other books you can read, Ginevra. I’m sure you don’t need to stay here and read these ones.”

Ginny appeared to have not noticed the danger signs in the blond, young man, or maybe she just didn’t care, for she simply walked forwards to where he was sitting, her eyes meeting his glare with her own defiant one. “Yes, but I want to read these ones.”

It would have been rather childish for Draco to say she couldn’t read them because he said so, but in his mind he was extremely tempted to just say it and throw all maturity to the winds. Being that as it were, he was also intelligent enough to realise that this argument was not going to get anywhere. She was far too stubborn to give in, and he was far too lazy to keep it going.

                       

“Fine,” Draco said simply, and lounged more easily into his chair again. That was one satisfaction he could take, in that he had claimed the comfiest chair in the room. He also knew it would annoy her more if he appeared to be unconcerned then to keep getting angry. It would take away her satisfaction in winning the argument.

Pleased with still managing to keep the upper hand, Draco once more went back to his book, looking for all the world like he had no worries at all, and not quite able to hide the smug smile that threatened to grace his lips. He could feel Ginny still glaring at him for a moment, but then her footsteps drifted off towards the other side of the room, where he heard her start rummaging through the shelves for a book of her own. He had almost hoped she would have said something, and felt just a little disappointed that she had simply flounced off. Of course he did not want to actually talk to her; it was just a natural desire to irritate her that was all…

The room fell silent for a moment except for Ginny’s occasional sighs and the sound of books being opened and closed as the obstinate redhead rifled through his books. His eyebrows creased together, the smallest of frowns settling on his lips. For anyone watching him it would seem like he was completely rapt in his novel, but his unmoving eyes belied his apparent engrossment. He had not taken in a single word of the book ever since Ginny had entered the room.

“Aha!” Ginny exclaimed suddenly, causing Draco’s ears to prick up a little bit more. Slowly, his grey eyes moved up over the pages of his book to stare at her, watching as she walked over towards where he was sitting, her hands now clutching one of the many books in his library. She took a seat on the other chair, which was much less squishier, and promptly opened the book she had grabbed. Draco’s eyes still surreptitiously watched her, but in truth he was more curious to see what it was she had picked out. It was the sort of prideful curiosity of not quite being able to believe that someone like Ginny, who he had always thought quite stupid, could like one of his books. Unfortunately for Draco, Ginny’s hand covered the title of the book and so his curiosity could not be satisfied.

Once more the room fell into silence, but Draco was finding it incredibly difficult to read his book. He was very conscious of Ginny sitting only a few feet from him, and the only thing he seemed to be achieving was staring blankly at the page, which he had yet to turn. He wondered if she was being any more successful in reading her book, and thought it rather unfair if she was. To him it seemed all very unjust that he should not be able to read in his own library, while she- that redheaded intruder- could.

Frustrated, and feeling like he had to do something other than just sitting here staring at his page- which had suddenly become very uninteresting- Draco glanced back at Ginny, noting her chestnut eyes focussed intently on the book in her lap.

“What are you reading?” He asked finally, unable to stop his curiosity from getting the better of him. He always had been rather nosy.

She looked up from the pages, meeting his gaze steadily. “Hallows Ridge.”

“Oh,” he said dismissively, though inwardly he was rather impressed. That just so happened to be his favourite book, and he didn’t know how he felt about her reading it. He was rather protective of that book, but protectiveness was overwhelmed with surprise that she would actually want to read something most people had never heard of.

“It’s my favourite book,” Ginny added with a smile, leaving Draco quite speechless. He didn’t like the thought of sharing anything in common with Ginny Weasley- whether he found her intriguing or not (and even that went against his better judgment).

Draco once more went back to staring at his book. He managed to read three words but then promptly slipped into disinterest again, and instead found himself glancing at the redhead sitting near him. One of her curls had slipped out of the ribbon holding her hair up and was dangling in front of her eyes. He watched as she impatiently pushed the strands of fiery red hair away from her face with her hand, and found his gaze riveted by her freckle sprinkled face. He had to admit the more he saw her the more her looks seemed to grow on him. He had never thought her ugly, but she was by no means beautiful. There was just something about her though; something that made him want to look at her. It was one of the most intriguing things about her, and one of the most frustrating.

The door opened again, and involuntarily Draco jumped in his seat, not having expected anyone else to come in at this time of the morning. He hoped the intruder had not seen him staring at Ginny, and turned his eyes to see his mother standing calmly by the door, watching him through her disconcerting blue eyes.

“Mother… is there something wrong?”

Narcissa shook her head. “No, but your father wishes to speak to you, Draco.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ginny close the book she had been reading and look at Narcissa curiously. He was too surprised to really feel angry that she was nosing in on his business though. His father rarely spoke to him these days, not because there was any animosity between them, but rather because Lucius Malfoy was very sick after having suffered a nasty stroke five months ago. He hadn’t been called into the room for a long time, and he’d rather forget about what had happened the last time.

“Now?” Draco asked, all the while wondering what it was his father wished to speak to him about, and still feeling a little apprehensive despite his mother’s assurances that nothing was wrong.

“Yes,” Narcissa replied impatiently. “Why else would I come looking for you at this ungodly hour?”

Draco said nothing, feeling much like the child he used to be when listening to his mother’s scolds in his younger days. She always had been rather short with him when he would do or say something idiotic in her eyes- even though she loved him and had always spoiled him. Things had changed since he had graduated from Hogwarts though, and had only gotten worse since his father had suffered the stroke. His mother relied on him to take up the family mantle, and as such became much harder on him. It was her influence really that had made him ‘grow up’ as it were. She refused to have a son who was too spoilt to achieve anything but his own selfish desires.

Trying hard not to sigh, Draco placed his book down and stood up off the chair. He walked over to his mother, his eyes instinctively glancing towards Ginny, who was watching both of them with undisguised curiousness. ‘Nosy bint’, he thought rather hypocritically, seeming to forget that he himself was notorious for snooping into other people’s business.

“Stop dawdling Draco,” Narcissa scolded, and walked out of the room.

Draco really did sigh then and followed her out of the room, all thoughts of Ginny slipping away as the door was shut behind him. He looked up and saw his mother’s figure disappearing around the corner, and quickly walked faster to catch up.

“Did he say why he wanted to see me, Mother?”

“No. He just said it was important.”

Draco scowled slightly. It was just like his father to be all mysterious about everything, and even more like his mother to be purposely vague. More than likely she did know and just wasn’t telling him. He knew his parents tricks.

“I was surprised to see you sitting with Ginevra,” Narcissa commented after a moment, while still walking down the maze-like corridors with him.

Draco’s eyes hardened. “Well I normally wouldn’t, but she makes it rather difficult for people to say no to her.”

“Is that so?” Narcissa smiled, her eyes filling with true amusement. “She really is living up to my expectations then…”

“What?”

Just what on earth was his mother on about now? He knew she had a reason for inviting Ginny here, but he had no idea why. His mother was sneaky though, and he had no doubt that she was amusing herself at Ginny’s expense for some grand purpose he would never guess. That was just her way.

“Don’t worry your head about it, Draco. It doesn’t concern you…”

He wasn’t sure if he believed her, but he was still too caught up in worrying about what his father wanted to say to him to give it much more thought.

“Here we are.” Narcissa stopped in front of the old, wooden door and gave him a sharp look. “Remember what the doctor said. You mustn’t excite him too much, otherwise he could have another stroke.”

“I know, I know,” Draco replied impatiently, just wanting to hurry up and get this over with. He was practically bursting with curiosity.

She stared at him coolly for a moment, before finally turning the handle and opening the door. Draco walked in immediately, his eyes naturally scanning the extravagant room. It looked just the same as it had the last time he had stood in it, with its drawn, velvet, purple curtains, giving a dim light to the room; the bed so large it was to the point of being ridiculous, and in the grand four-poster sat his deathly, pale father.

“Come closer, son,” Lucius commanded in a raspy voice.

Draco took a few steps forward and was immediately struck by how sickly his father looked. Dark shadows circled his father’s grey eyes, and his cheeks seemed more sunken and pale than the last time he had seen him. Draco gave a worried glance at his mother, who only nodded as she shut the door behind him and took her place on the chair by the door.

“You are twenty now, are you not?”

“Yes, Father,” Draco replied in his most respectful voice, hands clasped behind his back. He didn’t want to come off as too intimidating, remembering very clearly how his father had whacked him in the legs with that damned cane last time for trying to ‘lord over his own father’. The bruise had lasted for two weeks.

Lucius nodded and seemed satisfied by something. “A good age…”

Draco wondered what that meant, but Lucius had fallen silent with his eyes sliding shut. Silence continued to fill the room, and Draco hoped his father had not fallen asleep. When light snoring started coming from the bed, Draco couldn’t help but roll his eyes in exasperation and cleared his throat loudly. Lucius quickly opened his eyes again, and tried to give Draco one of his infamous glares, but sadly the red nightcap on his head ruined the effect. He only ended up looking like a grumpy old man who needed a good nights sleep.

“You were saying, Father?” Draco prompted politely.

“Don’t you use that high and mighty language with me, brat,” Lucius snapped, nightcap slipping haphazardly on his fine, blond hair, his grey eyes blazing with angry frenzy. “Don’t forget who was the one who brought you up!”

Draco saw his mother shift in alarm in her seat, and he too could feel the panic rising in him. This was why he was not allowed to see his father. It seemed that no matter what he did he almost always managed to get Lucius angry with him. It was very tiring trying to placate the ill-tempered, old man as well. Draco didn’t need any more excuses to be emotionally blackmailed- he being the one accused of bringing on the stroke in the first place, which he had always thought rather unjust.

Lucius took a deep breath, but his eyes still glared suspiciously at Draco. He reminded Draco of a vulture in that moment- all hunched over and glaring, and Draco would have laughed to himself if it weren’t for the fact that he could see that horrible cane only bare inches from his father’s hands. He also knew with his mother watching that it would not be a very wise thing to do.

“Now,” Lucius continued in his usual raspy voice, though Draco thought it sounded a bit more sickly than usual. His father seemed to have started pulling out the ‘feeble’ act, as the sudden fury that had burned in his face had melted away to be replaced with the ‘I’m on my deathbed’ expression. “You know I am getting old, and I am unsure how much longer I have to live…”

Draco said nothing. He knew that his father would only get angry with him if he did anyway. If he said that his father would live for a long time yet, Lucius would tell him to stop being so damn optimistic because it made him feel sick, and if Draco had agreed that his father did look very ill, then that would only cause Lucius to get all fired up and accuse his son of wanting him to die now. It was a no-win situation. His father really could be quite difficult when he wanted to be.

“And as you know, once I die there will be no heir to the Malfoy inheritance except you...”

Again Draco said nothing, though not because of wishing to not upset his father. This time he did not quite trust himself to speak at all. A conversation about heirs could only mean one thing, and Draco wasn’t sure he wanted to even think about that just yet.

His father, looking as sickly as ever, gazed at him through surprisingly keen, grey eyes. “I do not want to die without seeing my grandson.”

“But Father, I-”

“Would you withhold this from your dying father?” Lucius demanded weakly, and even managed to force out a feeble cough. Draco tried hard not to roll his eyes, knowing very well that his father did not have a cough and was only using it to increase the effect of the sickly act. Sometimes Draco had to wonder how it was he ended up with such manipulative parents.

“Of course not, Father,” Draco responded dutifully, knowing enough about his father by now that one did not argue with him when he got like this.

“Good,” Lucius said in a surprisingly brisk voice. “Then I expect you to have a wife and get her pregnant by the end of the month.”

Draco felt his jaw drop. “What?” he managed to splutter out, eyes widening in stunned astonishment. His father had to be kidding! He couldn’t marry now. He was only twenty years old for goodness sakes. Sure he attended the ‘marriage mart’, but men weren’t really expected to marry until they were at least twenty-six or more. His father wanted him to marry in a month? And get her pregnant? That was just… well it was just ridiculous!

“Mother, tell him he’s being unreasonable!” Draco demanded, turning imploring eyes on his mother, who was watching them both with an amused smile lingering in her eyes. That look told him enough that he would get no help from her, and feeling rather cross and much like a martyr, Draco glared at both his parents. Somehow he knew they had planned this.

“Narcissa agrees that it is time you get married. You have to take over the Malfoy name as the head of the family soon, and she, like me, agrees that you need to start a family of your own to secure your position.” Lucius suddenly got a very stubborn look about his thin mouth. “I will not have that twit Abraxias putting his children in my home! You must secure your heir!”

“Father, I’m twenty years old; I hardly think I’m going to be dying any time soon.”

This did not seem to placate his father though, as Lucius only got more riled up, and even wrapped his skeletal fingers around the wretched cane that had always been Draco’s nightmare as a child- not that Lucius had ever beaten him with it in the intention of doing any serious damage. The cane was used in much the same way his mother used to clout him around the ears for bringing strange children over when he was little (the children had turned out to be muggles Draco had found in one of his adventures around the countryside of Wiltshire.).

Draco wisely took a step back, but his grey eyes still watched the cane warily.

“And how do you know?” Lucius snapped, seemingly oblivious to his son’s sudden change to cautious mode. “You could die tomorrow. That idiot, Armande might very well poison you at dinner because he wants to be the heir.”

Draco didn’t see fit to tell his father that the last thing on Armande’s mind would be to poison him, and instead tried very hard not to roll his eyes. Melodrama was not something Draco was particularly fond of. Just because his father had always been paranoid of his younger brother Abraxias trying to kill him did not mean that Draco would be the same with Armande.

“Lucius,” Narcissa said in a calm, soothing voice, coming forward from her seat to lean over him. “Don’t worry about this now. I shall talk to Draco.” She glared at Draco as she said that, and he knew that he was about to receive an earful from his mother once they were out of the room.

“Yes… you talk to him Narcissa,” Lucius agreed in a weak voice, casting Draco his own angry glare, so that Draco found himself faced by both his parents’ glowering faces.

Narcissa gave Lucius a small kiss on the forehead and then walked over to where Draco stood. “Come, Draco,” she said imperatively, placing her hand on his shoulder and giving it a rather hard squeeze. “We’ll leave your father to rest.”

Draco said nothing and followed his mother once more out of the room. Once the door was shut behind them, she stared at him sharply. He only glared right back. He didn’t have to restrain himself now.

“What’s the meaning of this, Mother?” Draco hissed, folding his arms angrily. “Have you gone mad?”

“How dare you talk to me like that,” Narcissa retorted icily, her eyes becoming colder by the second. “Have you forgotten your manners already?”

Draco shuffled awkwardly and hung his head in shame. “Sorry, Mother.”

“I should think so,” Narcissa replied, still with that horribly chilly voice. Draco winced, knowing he had ruffled her feathers more than he should have.

“Still,” Draco said in a much more subdued voice, bravely raising his eyes to her face again. “I don’t know why you’re both getting so worried about me failing to produce an heir.”

Narcissa sighed and gave him one of her best ‘don’t be stupid’ looks, her eyebrow raising in that haughty way, and her lips thinning into a grim line. “It’s not about that, Draco; you know that’s just your father being paranoid.”

“Then why do you want me to get married so soon too?”

“You know very well that your father is dying.” She replied shortly.

He blinked, and Narcissa nodded her head. “Yes, Draco, your father is dying, and I am telling you now that it is very possible that he will not last the year.”

Draco didn’t know what to say to that. He had always thought his father would get better, and in truth a lot of the time he thought his father was just playing up the sickliness so he could get his way more. Draco had never thought Lucius would actually die any time soon, but his mother seemed to think that he would.

“Are you sure?” he asked tentatively. He didn’t like to think of his father dying. It was an odd relationship they had, but he did love his father underneath it all.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she replied with less bite in her voice now. She just looked tired and worn, and Draco knew she was genuinely saddened at the thought of his father dying. He knew that his parents’ marriage had not always been perfect, but they had grown to love each other over the years. Lucius’ death would be a hard time for all of them.

“I suppose you want to make him happy then, don’t you?”

Narcissa nodded, her eyes softening as they rested on his face. “I know you feel like this is asking a lot of you, Draco, but your father has always wanted to hold his grandchild in his arms. Don’t take this away from him now.”

Draco’s face broke into a frown, his eyes lowering to the ground once more. He knew he would never be able to marry for love, but he had hoped to be able to marry someone he could actually tolerate. There was no girl he could think of that he would wish to spend his life with, and he refused to be one of those men who satisfied their disappointing marriages by having affairs with other women. He did understand why his mother had agreed to Lucius’ odd demand, however, for if he didn’t marry someone soon then his father could never hope to call himself grandfather.

It was a sticky situation. There was no real definite clarity on who would be more selfish: Lucius wanting his son to marry early, or Draco wanting to wait. Draco knew, however, that even under all his frustration and resentment that he would never be able to hold this wish from his father. The man had done a lot for him over the years, and Draco did not have the heart to withhold such a precious thing from him- even at the cost of his own happiness. He was not as selfish as many believed, and he did love his father enough to want him happy.

“I guess I’d better start looking for a wife then,” Draco said with a humourless laugh.

Narcissa gave him a sad sort of smile and then pulled him into her arms. It seemed like so long ago she had held him like this, and somehow that seemed to comfort him more than anything else.

“Thank you, Draco…”

OOOOO

Ginny wandered along the field, her cheeks flushed from the cold air. It was moving into autumn now and the air was getting cooler. Normally she would not have bothered to venture out when the sky was looking so grey, but she had wanted desperately to escape from the house. After her little morning run-in with Draco in his private library, she had left and gone to breakfast. Draco and Narcissa had not showed up, and so it had been left to Alexia to make sure the guests were comfortable. She, obviously, had not shown that same respect to Ginny, and had purposely made the house-elf give her porridge that Ginny thought had might as well been troll-bogeys; it tasted like it anyway.

The day had only progressed for the worse from there. The men had gone off to do whatever it was men did, and the women had all agglomerated to one of the drawing rooms. Daphne decided that she would entertain everyone by playing on the pianoforte, and since she was the only female that had so much as smiled at Ginny that left Ginny dealing with the other women she had labelled haughty harpies. They all eyed her sharply, barely including her in their conversations unless it was to make a cutting remark. Even Ginny, who was normally so resilient, found her spirit breaking after a while, and once she felt the threatening burning behind her eyes and that nasty lump growing in her throat, quickly made her excuses and fled the house to the wild moors outside.

She drank in the sweet, cold air, closing her eyes as she walked. Somehow it was becoming harder to hold her head high amongst those women, and while she was pleased to say she had not broken down in front of them, she didn’t know how long she could keep being strong. Everywhere she went someone was glaring at her and judging her, and it was all just overwhelming her in feelings of insignificance, until she was almost ready to believe she was as worthless as they thought her.

“Is this really worth it?” she asked herself, stopping and staring out into the distance where rugged, moth-eaten hills could be seen shadowed under the grey skies. She felt more comfortable with the men, which was really no surprise considering she had grown up with six brothers, but in society it was seen as very forward to talk to just men. There really was no winning here.

Something moved in the trees near her, and Ginny narrowed her eyes as she tried to get a better look. She managed to discover that it was a person; a person with black hair, and as she walked forward, she realised it was Julian. A happy smile broke on her face, and throwing all decorum to the winds, Ginny ran forward and crashed into his chest, throwing her arms around him and holding him close.

“I’m so glad to see you,” Ginny choked out, closing her eyes tightly to squeeze back the tears that threatened to fall.

“Ginny…” Julian murmured, placing his arms around her. “Don’t tell me it’s been that bad, has it?”

“It’s been awful,” she confessed, pulling back to meet his gaze. Even with all her happiness in seeing him, she thought she could see a difference in his face. There was a strain around his blue eyes that had not been there before, and he had the beginnings of dark shadows circling his eyes. Even his smile seemed strained.

“What happened? You look troubled.”

Julian shook his head, giving a dismissive smile. “It’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m more worried about you right now.”

She smiled and tucked her hand in his, allowing him to lead her back towards the house. “I’m okay now that you’re here. I was just getting so frustrated with those awful women. They hate me, and I-” she broke off with an angry huff- “You know, I don’t even want to talk about it. They’re not worth it.”

He laughed slightly, his blue eyes glancing down to meet hers. “If you say so, but I think talking about it might help.”

She just shrugged. “I don’t know. I tell myself that I shouldn’t let them get to me, but I don’t think anyone can stop themselves from not being upset by being stuck in a room with people that hate them all day.”

“You don’t have to stay you know? I can take you back home.”

She shook her head. “That’ll make them think they’ve won, and I refuse to let those harpies think they’ve gotten rid of me that easily.”

He smiled at her in amusement. “You’re a stubborn woman, Ginny.”

Ginny stopped and looked at him quite seriously, not a trace of humour in her chestnut eyes. “Sometimes you have to be.”

Those women thought they could make her break by being horrible, and yes she may have stumbled today, but she would not let them get rid of her. She was a Weasley and proud of it. She’d show them all what she was made of yet.

“So who’s here?” Julian asked, as they continued to walk. “I know that Mrs Malfoy wanted to get some of the younger people for Alexia…”

Ginny rattled off all the names of the people who had come to the Malfoys’ get-together, scowling as she said a few of them, notably Pansy and a woman named Sephrina who had proven to be very scathing in her judgments of Ginny.

“No wonder you’ve been having it hard,” Julian said with much sympathy. “Mrs Malfoy seems to have invited every high-minded harpy in society.”

“So it would seem,” Ginny muttered dryly. She really had to wonder what Narcissa’s aims had been in inviting her here along with all these horrible people, and somehow she thought that whatever it was she was far happier in not knowing.

A/N: Okay, so I know Lucius probably never had a brother, but since it doesn’t say in canon (at least from what I remember), and obviously if Draco has French cousins in this fanfic then Lucius must have had siblings. So that’s how Abraxias comes into this.