A/N: Okay, once more, I apologize for the absurdly long time this took to come out. In my defense, so many things have gone wrong since Easter, that I almost considered not posting this at all (you may thank my betas, Laura and Tara, for convincing me, or curse them once you read it). I had written almost the entire chapter when my computer crashed and I lost everything. I had to rewrite the entire damn thing, and that took forever. I know you've it heard this same thing before, but it really did happen again.
Thank you to Laura and Tara for their awesome beta.
As for the chapter, it's very short, I'm not really that happy with it, and it sets the stage for the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it, and even if you don't, that you'll review. Flames will be used to toast marshmallows.
Chapter Four - Just Another Day at the Office
Ginny hugged her stuffed animal closer.
It must be a new one, she thought drowsily. It was quite large and surprisingly warm. Heating charm, she concluded through her drowsiness. But that was odd. One of the stuffed animals' arms was around her shoulders. And was that a kneecap sticking into her leg? And now she could distinctly hear deep breathing.
Uh-oh, her brain said slowly as her eyes snapped open. She screamed. The large, warm stuffed animal was actually a large, sleeping Draco. She scrambled out of bed and across the room before her brain had time to process that she was not, in fact, dreaming.
Upon hearing Ginny's shriek of terror, Draco was instantly wide awake and alert, his hand reaching for his wand, and his eyes scanning the room frantically in the way only a husband and father can. His eyes stopped their panicked scan of the room when he saw Ginny.
"Ginny?" he asked worriedly, the relief evident in his voice, as he got to his feet. "Are you okay? Is everything alright?"
"What the hell are you doing here?" she gasped, still shaking slightly.
"I was sleeping," he said slowly as if this was completely obvious and gesturing to the bed for emphasis.
"Just sleeping?" she asked suspiciously, eyeing his naked chest pointedly and backing further away.
You're lucky, he thought, smirking slightly. I usually sleep in the nude. Out loud, he laughed at her suspicious expression. "If I had taken advantage of you while you were sleeping," he said, the self-satisfied smirk becoming more pronounced with each word. "You'd remember." Ginny scowled angrily at him, unable to control the blush that spread over his face. Half of her wanted to know exactly what she would remember, while the other half screamed that this was a boy.
Draco sobered. After a moment's silence, he said softly, an unbearably dispirited note to his voice, "One of these days, you'll learn to trust me, Ginny. And maybe you'll even remember that you love me." He crossed to their adjoining bathroom and closed the door quietly behind him. A few minutes later, Ginny heard the shower running.
She sighed and turned away from the door. Things were not going well at all. She was so frustrated that she could pull her hair out and thrust her head through the wall at the same time. Instead, she opted for a hopefully rewarding search for breakfast.
When Draco reentered their bedroom fifteen minutes later, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, he was disappointed to find the room empty. Pulling on a pair of dark pants and toweling his hair dry, he summoned a house elf.
"Dinky is at Master Draco's service," the small elf said with a bow.
"Where is Mistress Ginny?" Draco asked, tossing his towel on a chair and reaching for his shirt.
"Mistress Ginny is in the dining room, sir," the elf said with another bow.
"And Master Ben is still sleeping?" Draco asked, reaching for his tie.
"Yes, Master Draco, sir," the elf said, bowing again.
"Will you stop bowing," Draco snapped as he charmed his hair completely dry and reached for his work robes.
"Yes, Master Draco, sir."
"Thank you," Draco said, his voice calmer now. "I will be down to breakfast momentarily. Please alert the kitchen."
"Very good, sir," Dinky said before vanishing, sans bow.
Draco sighed. So far, this was the worst week of his life since the end of his seventh year when the war had been in full swing. At this point, Draco was expecting a players' strike and Carmen's two weeks notice to be waiting for him on his desk when he got to work. He restrained himself from crawling back into his warm and comfortable bed. Instead, he put on his robes and went to join his wife in the dining room.
***
Ginny's search for food had been (Thank Merlin, she thought to herself) a success. She was now seated in what she was told by Sippy the house-elf (her house-elf, she had to keep reminding herself) was her usual seat. Despite the fact that assigned seating seemed rather medieval to Ginny, who had grown up with the "grab-a-seat-and-some-food-before-your-brothers-eat-it-all" method, Ginny had sat down to a full breakfast of all her favorites. It was here that Draco found her when he finally made his way to the dining room after a brief stop at Ben's room to make sure he was okay and still in the Manor.
"I see you found the food," he said, seating himself at the head of the table.
"Weasleys have a sixth sense about these sorts of things," Ginny said lightly. Draco laughed.
"You can say that again," he chuckled while opening the Daily Prophet.
Ginny continued to eat while Draco sipped his morning coffee and read the newspaper. They sat this way in what, Ginny hoped, was a comfortable silence until Draco folded his newspaper neatly and glanced hast his pocket watch.
"I have to go to work," he announced and Ginny looked up from her plate.
"Oh," she said, looking back down. She was slightly disappointed. She had been enjoying his company. "What exactly do you do?" she asked curiously after a moment's pause. "Something tells me if might be important for me to know."
Draco smiled. "I own the Falmouth Falcons."
Ginny's jaw dropped. "You own a Quidditch team?"
"I don't just own a Quidditch team," he said smugly. "I own the best goddam team in the league."
Ginny snorted. "Of course you do," she said sweetly. "I wouldn't expect anything less from Draco Malfoy."
"Something tells me I should resent that, but I never have been able to find a fault with the truth."
"You are such an arrogant prat!"
"But that's why you lo-" he stopped mid-word and cleared his throat. A few seconds of tense silence passed. "Right, well," he said finally, trying to cover the awkwardness. "What are your plans for the day?"
"I think I would like to spend some time with Ben today," she said thoughtfully. "Get to know him again, that sort of thing. Besides that fact that he has your good looks and pride and my temper, not a good combination by the way, I really don't know anything about him."
"Well," said Draco thoughtfully. "He has the twins' sense of mischief making and Percy's brain, but I'll let you figure out the rest," he said with a wink.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Big help, Draco, thanks," she said sarcastically. She looked down at her plate, then glanced sideways at him. "So," she began slowly. "Did you talk to him again last night?" Draco nodded tensely. "And?" Ginny prompted.
"And," Draco said slowly. "We'll be fine, I think. In fact, I may just have the perfect way to make it up to him."
"How?" asked Ginny immediately. "Not that I condone buying our son's love with presents."
Draco ignored her. "It's a surprise," he said, laughing as she pouted. "Besides, I don't even know if it's going to work out yet." He looked at his watch again. "Bollocks, I'm late. Carmen is going to have my arse." He stood up and walked over to Ginny.
"Who's Carmen?" she asked as she stood up as well.
"My secretary."
"Oh."
"I'm not having an affair, Ginny," he said tiredly.
"I never said you were," she responded peevishly.
Draco leaned in and kissed her cheek. "I love you, Ginny." She nodded, a lump forming in her throat. "Have a good day," he said as he pulled away. He sounded defeated.
Draco's last thought before he Disapparated to his office was how he'd give anything to hear her say "I love you, too."
***
"You're late, Mr. Malfoy," Carmen said from the chair in front of Draco's desk seconds after he Apparated. She was bent over he clipboard, alternating between flicking through the owl post and scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Can you even read that chicken scratch?" he asked as he hung his traveling cloak by the fire place.
Carmen glared at him and said haughtily, "You hired me for my secretarial skills, not my penmanship."
"And obviously not for you attitude," he muttered. She looked at him suspiciously for a moment, then stood up. "Owl post is on your desk," she said, placing the pile on his desk. "And here is your schedule for the day. As always, it is tentative and there may be causes for changes. If there are any changes, I shall alert you immediately." Draco nodded, not really listening. After all, she said the same thing every morning.
"Anything else?" he asked, already flipping through the post. She shook her head. "Then could you set up a meeting with the Head of Magical Games and Sports at the Canadian Minsitry?"
"Of course, sir," she said, jotting id down. "Will there be anything else?"
"No, that will be all. Thank you, Carmen." He sat down and picked up his quill. Carmen nodded and moved towards the door. When she got there, however, she turned around.
"Now that I thin about it," she said slowly, tapping her front teeth with her fingernail. "There was one more thing I was supposed to tell you."
"Yes?" Unfortunately for Draco, he was looking down at the post so he missed the wicked gleam in her eye.
At that moment, a tall, dark man with expensive robes threw open the door to Draco's office and stormed in. Draco looked up, slightly startled.
"Oh, that's right," Carmen said, a wicked grin on her face. "Mr. Zabini is home from his vacation and he's in a bit of a strop." She closed the door quietly behind her.
To say that Blaise Zabini, the press secretary for the Falmouth Falcons and Draco's best friend, was in a bit of a strop would be like saying that Hagrid was as tall as Sippy. Blaise Zabini was pissed.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" Blaise yelled. Draco sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"Hello, Blaise," Draco said pleasantly. "Did you have a good vacation?"
"I did until I saw this," he spat, tossing the front of page of the Sports section of the Daily Prophet. The headline read, "Mix-up in Malfoy Manor Causes Problems in Ministry." Draco raised an eyebrow in a way that said quite clearly: "I am a very busy man, do you have a point?"
"So," Blaise elaborated indignantly. "You should have Flooed me."
"You were on your first vacation in months." It was Blaise's turn to raise an eyebrow. "And, you wouldn't have gotten here in time. I needed this handled as quickly as possibly. Carmen did a fine job."
"You call this," Blaise interjected with a gesture at the newspaper. "A fine job?" `Mix-up in Malfoy Manor.' People are going to doubt this establishment fi the owner can't even keep his own goddam son in line."
"Did you even read the article, Blaise?"
"I don't need to. I-"
"Read the damn thing, then come talk to me if you still think there's a problem." Blaise knew a dismissal when he heard one. He set his jaw, nodded tightly, and left, the newspaper tucked safely under his arm.
Draco sighed and rubbed his temples slowly, his eyes shut. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and stared at the door. He seemed to come to a decision.
"Carmen!" he bellowed. She appeared in the doorway.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"
"I'm going to need a migraine potion."
"Yes, sir. The minister is on hold, sir. He wants to talk to you about the front page of the Sports section in today's Prophet."
Draco groaned. "Make that two migraine potions."
***
Many hours later, Ben wandered into the library, an apple in his hand, in search of Ginny. He found her curled up on the window seat, enthralled in a well-worn book.
"Hey, Mum," he said, sitting down at her feet and taking a bite of his apple.
Ginny marked her place in her book and looked up at her son. He was wearing a well-worn, gray Falcons t-shirt and pajama pants. His hair was sticking up in al directions. Just like Draco, Ginny couldn't help to think with a small smile.
"Don't talk with your mouth full, Ben. It's simply unattractive."
Ben had the decency to look embarrassed. "Sorry, Mum," he said contritely. He swallowed before continuing. "What're you doing?"
"I'm reading this really good book," she said eagerly. "It's about this witch-"
"I know, Mum," Ben interrupted with a smile upon catching sight of the cover.
"Oh. Well, I'm enjoying it anyway." She paused, thinking, then said slowly," It's odd though. It's like I know exactly what's going to happened right before it happens. I wonder why that is."
"Probably because you've read it a million times," Ben said, taking another bite.
"Thank would make sense," Ginny responded, and Ben could have sworn he saw disappointment in her eyes. The next moment, however, whatever he though he had seen was gone.
"So," Ginny said brightly, breaking into his thoughts. "What are your plans for today? Because I was hoping that we could spend some time together."
Ben smiled. "I'd love that, Mum." Ginny beamed at him.
They decided that Ben would give Ginny a full tour of the property, just as soon as he got dressed. A little while later found them strolling through one of the many gardens togheter, sometimes talking, and other times simply enjoying each other's company.
"So," Ginny said much later. "Tell me about Scarlet."
"What do you want to know?"
"Well," Ginny said slowly. "What year she is, what house she's in, who her parents are, how long you have been going out, how you met." She paused for breath. "Everything."
"Okay, well, she's going to be a sixth-year Slytherin, same as me. You know her parents. Well, her mum anyway." Ginny waited for him to elaborate. "Pansy Parkinson."
"I know she looked familiar!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "Same nose," she hadded as an after thought.
"Yea, Scarlet's thinking about getting it fixed."
"What?" Ginny said, obviously horrified.
Ben shrugged. "She hates it. Says it makes her look like a pug."
`Bout time somebody noticed. "But you told her that her nose is fine, right?"
Ben shrugged. Again and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Doesn't matter what I say or think. She's just as headstrong as Mrs. Hension, with the added stubbornness of Mr. Hension. He's from Durmstrang," he added.
"It's your job as her boyfriend -"
"Mum," Ben interrupted. Ginny had the distinct feeling that she may have gone too far. "I have been dating Scarlet for a year. I know how to get along with her, okay?" he said tensely. Ginny nodded. "Besides," he added more to himself than to Ginny. "Her nose does make her look a bit like a pug."
"Benjamin Malfoy!" Ginny shrieked in indignation. "What exactly are you saying? That she should get a nose job?"
"No," said Ben slowly, clearly not understanding what he had said wrong. "I'm saying that she would look better with a different nose."
"Ben!" Ginny said, scandalized. "You're here boyfriend. That means you have to make sure she knows that her imperfectiosn make her more beautiful."
Ben shrugged. "But they don't," he said simply. Ginny opened her mouth to respond, but Ben cut her off. "Listen, Mum. She knows I find her attractive or I wouldn't be dating her."
"First of all, I hope that attractiveness isn't the only thing you look for in a girlfriend. Secondly, a girl likes to hear her bloke say that she's beautiful every once and a while," she lectured. "You do tell her that she's beautiful, right?"
"Only when she is. You always taught me," he hurried on before she could interrupt again," that a good relationship is based on honesty. Scarlet and I are brutally honest with each other. She tells me when I look like crap, and vice versa." He shrugged again. "If she didn't like it, she would have either hexed me or broken up with me by now."
"Any girl that tells my son that he's not handsome," she said, switching seamlessly from offense to defense. "Simply doesn't deserve him."
"Mum. Let it go," Ben pleaded.
"Fine, but if I find out that she's broken my little boy's heart, she will have another thing coming."
Ben groaned.
***
Draco stamped the Malfoy crest on an envelope and paced it in the "Out" tray. He stood up and stretched before glancing at his watch. Noon. Maybe he could go back to the Manor for lunch today. He consulted his schedule.
Perfect, he thought, already walking to the door. I have an hour. I'll just tell Carmen…But before he got to the door, he heard someone knocking.
"Yes?" he asked impatiently.
"Mr. Malfoy?" Carmen asked, opeing the door and stepping into his office. "Mr. Potter is here to see you."
Inwardly, Draco groaned. While Draco and Harry had long since given up being enemies, they were far from friends. Very far. Right now, Draco wanted nothing more than to go home and see his family. He had had a breakthough with his surprise for Ben and he was anxious to tell him about it, not that Malfoys are ever anxious of course.
Outwardly, he stayed impassive. "Tell him that I've already left an that I'm schedule for the rest of the day. Maybe I can see him tomorrow." Carmen didn't move. "Carmen, I said to get rid of him."
"I don't think that's a good idea, sir."
"Well, I didn't ask you, did I?" Draco snapped. The more he thought about it, the more he realized just how much he didn't like Harry. He was just too…Gryffindor for Draco.
"Normally, I wouldn't insist, sir, but he sounds upset and he said it's very important."
"Fine, but this better be quick." Draco stormed back to his desk and sat down. "Send him in," he said with a careless wave of his hand.
Carmen closed the door behind her and returned moments later, Harry Potter follwing closely behind.
"Potter," Draco said, not standing up, as Carmen left. "I'd offer you a seat, but I know you won't be staying for long enough to enjoy it."
"Too true, Malfoy. But neither will you. Come one, we're going out to lunch."
Playing nice at family gatherings was one thing, but going out to lunch together for not apparent reason was a little too much for Draco. "Are you fucking me?" he asked calmly.
"If I was," Harry said, smirking lightly. "Your pants would be around your ankles, wouldn't they? Get your damn cloak, Malfoy."
Draco leaned back in his chair and regarded Harry with cold eyes. "Why?"
"God dammit, Malfoy," Harry exploded. "Because Ron Weasley is dead and your wife has amnesia."
Draco paled. "Oh, fuck."
"Get your damn cloak."
***
They stared at each other across the table, neither wanting to cave and break the tense silence. They had found a small and forgettable Muggle café down an alley. The prices were cheap, Draco had noted critically upon opening his menu. It wasn't until after they had ordered that Draco decided to get hit nightmare started. He cleared his throat, and Harry responded with a raised eyebrow, clearly an invitation to begin. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Draco finally broke the silence.
"Why lunch?"
"Because that's what normal people do at noon." Draco didn't respond and the tension began to build again. Harry took a sip of water, a resigned look on his face as he set the glass down again.
"Have you ever talked to Ginny about Ron?"
Draco stared incredulously at Harry. "She's my wife, Potter. I've been married to her for sixteen years. We have son together. But now, her older brother has never come up," Draco responded sarcastically.
"Then you know that they were close. Very close. They were best friends. Ron's death nearly killed her. Her seventh year…" Harry trailed off. "Well, you know all about that."
"If you would be so kind as to actually use that thing behind your scar called a brain, you'd remember that Ginny and I didn't know each other during her seventh year. She was safe at Hogwarts while I was holed up in a cell in Azkaban." Unconsciously, Draco gripped his left forearm, his eyes going dead for a second before flashing brightly, even angrily, and settling back into their usual impassively cold stare. If Harry noticed, he didn't say anything. He knew all to well the horrors of Draco's past and he wouldn't begrudge him the pride he had managed to retain after a year in Azkaban.
"Ginny was in a very bad place during her seventh year. We all were. But Ginny…well, we were worried about her. Mrs. Weasley was terrified for an entire year that she was going to loose another child. Ginny's nightmares returned and - "
"Nightmares?" Draco interrupted.
Harry gave him a strange look. "Ginny had terrible nightmare the summer after her first year." Draco nodded, comprehension dawning. "They were practically gone by her seventh year, but after Ron's death, well…they got worse."
"Oh," was all Draco could manage.
Harry cleared his throat. "Well, it was really Colin that saved her. His mum had dies before he cam to Hogwarts, and he dealt with it by taking pictures. He told me once that he took so many because he wanted to remember every detail about everything forever."
"What's this got to do with Ginny?" Draco asked as their waiter brought their food.
Colin suggested that Ginny take up a hobby. Something she could do to express her feelings. That's when she started painting. After that, her nightmares stopped."
"Well that certainly explains quite a bit," Draco said thoughtfully.
"Are you tell me," said Harry slowly. "That you never knew any of this?"
"No, Potter, I didn't. She didn't want to talk about it, and I was never in any place to force her to talk. There are some things that need to be left in the past. I, of all people, know that," he added darkly. "Everyone deserves to keep their own secrets from the ones they love."
Harry decided that he didn't want to know what kind of secrets Draco lived with everyday. "We all have things we'd like to forget, Malfoy," Harry started to say, but Draco cut him off.
"Shove it, Potter," he said shortly. " I don't need your bloody sainthood right now."
Harry took a deep breath. "What the hell is wrong with us?" he muttered.
Draco remained silent, picking at his food. After a few minutes, he pushed back his chair and stood up.
"Listen, Potter. I know this was hard for you." It was as close as Harry would ever get to a "thank you" from Draco. "I'm not in a habit of carrying Muggle money, but here are some Galleons," he said, placing the gold on the table. He turned to walk away, but Harry called after him.
"Hey, Draco." Draco turned around to look at him. "I dunno what I'd do if Hermione couldn't remember anything." It was Harry's way of saying that Draco was dealing with all this chaos in a good way. Draco nodded and left the restaurant. Somehow, their was an understanding between them.
Harry put his head in his hands. "God dammit, Ron," he whispered.
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