It was raining again. Course, when wasn't it? It seemed like the desperation and sadness that dwelled in the men's hearts in the camps, as well as our loved ones back home, made the weather relentlessly temperamental. Weakness and exhaustion swept through the barracks, almost comparable to a clinging lover in the sense that it held the men so close, tempting us to rest our weary bodies and let the war run its course. But we all knew our duty and would push this inner demon aside, fearing that if we allowed it to take hold, it would become more powerful than it already had.
Coming through the gates of Hogwarts after another Death Eater raid, the rain was coming down in buckets. 'Cats and dogs' the Muggles would have said, though I still do not see the connection. Why in the name of Merlin's beard would you compare a down pour to house hold pets? I can assure you its beyond me but then again, most of what those so called 'people' do is unexplainable in my opinion.
My hope was beginning to fade like a dwindling candle, burning lower and lower until it would, before long, inevitably go out. I had tried to make sure not to let this despair seep into my letters home. There was no way I could risk Ginny getting to desperate and then coming out to find me here. Only bad things could happen if she came and I would not allow it.
"Another day, another casualty."
The voice startled me, pulling me back from my muddled musings. I was half-way back to my tent when I turned and faced the speaker, Harry. He looked just as awful as I assumed I did; bruise coloured bags beneath blood shot eyes, face pale and mud splattered, clothes ripped and shredded in parts from wading through seas brambles and dodging attacks, the living definitions of a soldier.
"Who was it this time?" I asked dully, my exhaustion managing to reach my voice. I didn't mean to sound so indifferent, I really didn't, but my body was beginning to betray me now, wanting nothing but a moment to relax.
"Seamus Finnigan," Harry replied, attempting to pull his fingers through his matted hair. "Dean is devastated. They were best mates, you know. Seamus pushed him out of the way during the raid and…"
Harry trailed off, Seamus's end made evident. The man had done the most selfless act any man could do. He had given his life for another, his best friend in this case.
The blow had hit hard in Harry's heart, who was trying hard to be stone faced but he felt the grief that had hit Dean Thomas. The unmistakable pain he felt glittered in the corners of his eyes.
"I'm sorry," I said, unable to summon anything else from the foggy chasm in my mind. I was never the type to be able to comfort people. Ginny had that aspect in our relationship, she always had. Now here I was, without her, standing before an emotional Harry Potter, and nothing to say but 'I'm sorry'. If that wasn't pitiful, I didn't know what was.
"There's nothing to be sorry for," Harry said before I could pursue my last words in any more depth. He forced a smile on his face and shrugged. "I shouldn't be so surprised anymore. Its war, people die. And at least Seamus went like a hero."
He shook his head and shoved his hands in what was left of his robe pockets.
"Anyways, we shouldn't dwell on it. Seamus wouldn't have wanted that. And mails here. At least there's something distracting for us during our homecoming."
Good ol' Harry, putting on a brave face even though the world around him is coming close to falling apart completely.
I nodded, glad to find a small escape that would take me away from the visions of blood and corpses for a while. The pair of us slowly made our way back to our tent, exchanging neither words nor acts of comfort as we walked. A few men came out from there tents and offered condolences to Harry or asking him to pass them onto Dean.
"Seamus was a good lad," they often said, "and will be sorely missed."
After a while, I started to block them out all together. I didn't want to hear it anymore. I didn't want to hear the nice things that were said about Seamus. I didn't want to wonder what they'd be saying if I were next in line, if I were to die tomorrow.
It seemed like an eternity had passed when we finally made it back and my already fried nerves were beginning to burn again. Pushing back the tent flap, I almost walked square into a very white faced Ron.
"You're not supposed to stand in the bloody doorway Weasley," I snapped, partially thankful that I had an outlet for my anger. "Move you're sorry ass out of my…"
"She's pregnant."
Ron's words caught me off guard, sending cold shivers down my spine. My eyes fell to the paper in Ron's hand and then instantly to the small pile of letters assembled on my cot. I dove at them, snatching the envelope with the crimson lining from the rest. The cover paper tore easily under my fingers and I yanked the letter within from its tan coloured encasement.
The beginning of the letter looked as if it had been erased, and erased, and erased again, indicating that this was not easy news to share.
Dear Draco
I don't want you to panic or do anything irrational. I'm sorry that I could not tell you this news face to face but, considering our circumstance, this was really the only option (and I am quite sure you wouldn't want a howler).
I'm pregnant. I saw a doctor at St. Mungo's yesterday and confirmed it. We're going to have a baby!
Please, I know it probably isn't possible, but try to come home. I miss you so much. I want our child to know his/her father.
I love you.
Forever yours
Ginny
The letter was brief but it was enough to make my heart pounded so hard, I thought it might try to break free of my chest and do a jig on the floor in front of me. I stared at the parchment in awe. I was going to be a father? I, Draco Malfoy, was going to come home to a baby?
I couldn't keep a grin from sliding onto my lips.
"I'm going to be a father," I said aloud, my voice soft with amazement. I looked up at Harry to see him grinning amusedly. "I'm gong to be a father!"
"I feel sorry for the child," Harry chided though his offered a brother like embrace in congratulations.
I couldn't believe it, I'm quite sure I said so many times as I re -read 'We're going to have a baby!' over Harry's shoulder.
Now, I never thought Ron to be the type to knock out a person in place of a handshake in this kind of situation, but there's a first time for everything I suppose. As Harry stepped away I turned to Ron, my mood turned right around and my energy renewed enough so that I could've kissed him, and got a fist rammed into my cheek. I think Harry said something in protest but I can't be totally positive on it.
My vision blurred and soon a black miasma fluttered across my sight. The last thing I remembered was falling towards the floor…
Author's note: Chapter six is officially re-done, and I'm running out of ways to be excited about this! But I really would like to know what you think so please let me know!