The Blasted Days

Tayler

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 5
Published: 14/03/2005
Last Updated: 09/10/2006
Status: paused

When war strikes, the blow is rarely soft. Ginny and Drco learn this the hard way when the fight between good and evil pulls them apart. Now they must cope with the waiting game and find comfort in the hope that they may get a chance to have a normal life once again.

Chapters

1. Chapter 1

2. Chapter Two

3. Chapter Three

4. Chapter Four

5. Chapter Five

6. Chapter Six

7. Chapter Seven

8. Chapter Eight

9. Chapter Nine

10. Chapter Ten

11. Chapter Eleven

1. Chapter 1

“No! They can’t make you! I won’t let them!”

“I have to Gin…

“No you don’t!”

“They have asked for my help…”

“Let Harry go!”

“Harry has asked for my help Gin and after all he’s done for me, for us, I cannot walk away.”

“Yes you can! Please, please don’t leave me.”

“I’ll never leave you. I’ll always be here.”

“You won’t be if you’re off fighting or dead…”

“My heart is always with you, no matter where I go. I love you Ginny. I’ll see you soon. Promise.”

As he walked down the dirt path, away from the safety of my arms, I knew that his promise was an empty one. He loved me, that wasn’t a lie. But I knew it would be a long time before I saw him again, if ever.

We had argued many times during the few days before when he had first told me the news. I would scream and beg him not to go, that Harry had enough people and could manage without him. He would calmly tell me the same thing every time. The once boy wonder had done so much for us that it was time he returned the favour. This would set of yet another explosion of arguing and usually ended up with me crying for an hour or so till the tears finally dried up, till the next time anyways.

The space where he had stood in not a moment before was empty and I was alone. For the first time in my life I, Ginevra Malfoy, was alone. The feeling gripped me in its embrace like a serpent entangling its prey. Shivers ripped up and down my spine, causing me scan the front yard like a spooked animal. I can tell you right now, it was not a pleasant experience. When you’re alone, really alone, the sense of vulnerability is so overwhelming that it is almost suffocating. No ones coming to protect you. No one to tell you everything will be all right. No one to hear you cry out in pain as you watch the last of your loved ones walk away to fight a pointless war. No one to hear the deafening crack of your heart breaking in two. Okay, maybe I’m being a little overdramatic but just wanted you to make sure you understand.

I fell to the ground, my legs giving out beneath me and sending me tumbling. My breath came in short gasps as I fought off tears. But it was no use. No matter how much I thought I had finally emptied out the river of crystal drops, more came. They dropped to the dirt, creating dark spots on the light brown earth.

“Draco,” I sobbed, balling my fists and pounding against the ground. I sat up, my legs folded beneath me and I screamed at the sky, cursing any gods listening and ordering them to bring him back. But quickly my screams turned into pleads. I begged those very same gods who I had just insulted to bring back my husband, my soul mate, my love, unscathed.

They didn’t reply, the sky above remaining the same clear blue that it had been all week. It did not brighten my mood. Beautiful day or not, he was gone and I didn’t know when or if I was going to see him again. A thousand beautiful days would never clear the gloomy, storming weather that would cover my mind and my heart if Draco did not return. Nothing would make me happy again if I never saw his face, or touched his skin or felt his arms around me.

The darkness was already beginning to creep into my heart, clouding it over and making it ache with need. I took one last look down the path, making sure he was really gone before I walked (more like dragged my feet) back up to the house. Our house. Our home. The home that was now emptied except for one.

I closed the door behind me, the soft thud of it knocking against the doorframe bringing me no comfort. The sound seemed to resonate through the empty house, making sure that I knew he wasn’t here. It made sure that I knew, I was alone.

Author’s note: So, it’s a short beginning but a beginning all the same. I hope you all like this and that Ginny doesn’t seem to overly dramatic. Please R&R!!!! J J J

2. Chapter Two

She knew. There was no way she couldn’t see through the promise. She knew how much I loved her or at least I hoped she did. But Ginny had always been a wise girl and knew almost as well as I did that that kind of promise was hard to keep, especially in the circumstances.

The rain soaked earth gave way beneath my boots as I walked through the camp, an ironic change from the blue sky and a home that was bathed in sunlight. It almost made me laugh. Almost.

A few fat drops continued fall from the temperamental clouds above, splashing against the shoulders of my robe and making me cringe when they managed to slip down my neck. I looked at the piece of parchment in my hand, the ink beginning to run down the page and once again read over the information.

Camp Phoenix, Tent #1, Hogwarts.

The letters were written in a flowing script, probably written by one of the remaining teachers or a volunteers quill because surely Potter had not written it. I caught a groan in my throat and look around the grounds I had once related to my educational career. Now, it was littered with tents that stretched from one end of the Hogwarts property to the other. I couldn’t help but wonder how many of these men and woman had left their loved ones behind because they owed a favour.

I recognize a few faces as I passed open tents; most carry the same, almost mournful expression was probably on my own. Longbottom, Finnegan, Thomas. Gryffindors trying to fulfill their role as a brave lion. It gave me an eerie feeling. I was a lone serpent caught in the middle of a proud pride. If that didn’t put a person on edge alone without the looming threat of the Dark Lord, there had to be something wrong with the person.

A few mud-covered Hufflepuffs I remembered from my seventh year stumbled out from around the corner of one tent. They gave me a cautious glance before finding new energy and hurrying off, no doubt wary of my presence. Had to love the people who still indulge in stereotypes.

Biting back the urge to hiss I carried on.

50, 49, 48, 47...

The tents were passing quicker now as my pace increased. ‘Just get to your tent and you can hide out until the Order summons you,’ I reasoned.

“So, you’ve finally decided to grace us with your presence Malfoy…”

Damn. There goes that plan, destroyed by a miserable, ignorant, little-

“Didn’t you hear me? I said…”

“I heard you Weasley,” I replied through clenched teeth. Why now? I was already in a sore mood and I didn’t need him to make it any worse. “Just chose to ignore you, that’s all.”

Bad play, Draco.

“Ignore me, eh? I would have thought that, oh I don’t know, seeing as I am your brother in law that you might give me a few minutes out of your precious time.”

“And why would I do that when I already know what the topic of your pre-chosen discussion will be?”

Double bad play. Why did I always let my mouth get the better of my logic?

“Because we are supposed to be family,” Ron retorts. To this point I had still not turned to face him, finding that it was my best escape tactic. Not this time apparently.

“Well, as a family member, I request for you to bugger off. I really don’t want to hear about how I don’t deserve Ginny or how if I hurt her in anyway that I’ll be ripped to shreds and then fed to a starved group of flobberworms today, thank you.”

My temper had been simmering up until that at that point and all I wanted to do, besides beating Ron into a bloody pulp, was to get out of there as fast as possible. I started to make my retreat when again I was stopped. Ron did always have that annoying element to him, even in Hogwarts.

“I don’t know what she sees in you,” he said as I walked away. “She should be with Harry right now, not some slime ball who has a way with words.”

The comment made my foot stop halfway to the ground. I had made amends with Potter soon after I joined the Order, not that we were best mates or anything but we tolerated each other. But the fact that Ron had the nerve to say that the woman I loved and was married to, belonged to the boy wonder set me off.

I spun on him, grabbing the collar of his robes before he could move out of range. I hadn’t heard him get so close but it gave me an advantage that I couldn’t refuse.

“You,” I said, my voice a quiet threat, “stay away from me. I don’t want to mistake you for a Death Eater. So don’t get in my way.”

It was an empty threat but Ron didn’t need to know that. The look in his eyes made the bluff worth while however. There was a mix of terror and sheer fury but the fear took hold over his limbs, making his stumble as a pushed him backwards. I gave him once last steely glare before returning to my prior activity.

“Yeah…well…You best stay out of mine,” Ron called out, the defeat in his voice signaling that even he knew how weak the comment was.

35, 34, 33, 32, 31, 30...

Too many blasted tents. I got the strong urge to sprint the last twenty-eight so I could finally find solitude but the proper, strict upbringing that had been drilled into me for seventeen years of my life clearly wouldn’t allow that. So was stuck walking.

It took another long, drawn out fifteen minutes till I finally got to my tent. The flap was closed when I came up to it, for good reason I later found out. I slid the thin material aside and felt a smile tug at the corner of my lips. There, in the middle of the tent, Potter was down on one knee and presenting a ring to Granger. The pair looked up at me startled.

“We’ll I know now that I have to bring Potter home in one piece as well as myself,” I said, trying to control the sarcasm as much as I could. And the truth of it was, I couldn’t help but be pleased for the pair.

So, I lied. Go and tell anyone that I uttered that or what is to come and seeing the next morning might be a bit of a stretch for you. Potter and I did a little more than tolerated each other. I didn’t lie when I said we weren’t best mates. But there was the rare occasion were we’d run into each other at the Leaky Cauldron or The Three Broomsticks and had a conversation over a few drinks. There had been a few occasions were the meeting had planned but those were infrequent. The fact that we could showed a lot about our character…Ginny’s words, not mine.

The tear streaked girl gave me a guarded look but eventually smiled and nodded.

“Thank you Draco,” she said. “I would really appreciate it.”

I smiled at them and backed out of the tent, recognizing my cue. Not two seconds later, a happy ‘YES!’ sounded, pulling a chuckle from my lips but soon brought on a feeling of emptiness as I remembered my own proposal.

Suddenly, I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d been there maybe half an hour and I was already going crazy. I walked up to the entry way of my old school and sunk down onto the steps, dropping my pack at my feet. From the front pocket, I pulled out the stationary Ginny had bought me when I had gone away to Paris for a week. We had been together for a few months and she hadn’t wanted to go a day without hearing from me so she had saved up and bought me a handsome set. I had thought it a little silly but took it anyway.

In a snow white box, an unlimited number of blank, tan coloured sheets with silver lining sat with matching envelopes and a hawk feather quill. I found out when I wrote my first letter to her that she had bought herself one much the same but with crimson lining instead of silver.

She had been so giddy when she’d given them to me, saying that I’d better use them well. I don’t remember exactly how many letters we exchanged during that week, the count was quite numerous. Many of them still sat in a special box above the fire place at home.

Holding the sheets in my hand now made me smile. No doubt she would be up late every night from now on until I was home safe and sound. There was no sense keeping her in the dark if there wasn’t a need.

I pulled out the well used quill and a fresh bottle of ink, feeling some small comfort when I heard the soft pop of the cork releasing the neck of the bottle. Dipping the quill inside, I knocked the excess off (a familiar routine), and pressed it to the paper.

Dear Ginny…

Author’s note: I’m fixing up the chapters now that I have time, just to make them a little cleaner and easier to read. I hope you enjoy it! J

3. Chapter Three

Dear Gin

I’ve been here almost an hour and I’m already going ’round the bend without you. Whatever happened to that Malfoy patience and restraint I once had? Oh, now I remember, I met you. I’m not complaining, far from actually. With you, however, came your impatience which was soon passed on to me. But it’s only a small, insignificant price to pay to be yours.

My welcome here was not a warm one luv, but we expected that. Ran into your brother and nearly killed him. I’m sorry but he doesn’t know when to let things go. And from what you’ve told me, he never has. Today he had the nerve to say that you belonged with Potter, the boy-wonder! Now I’ve told you about our run-ins at the pubs, but after hearing about it in Hogwarts and then after we got married, I am quiet certain that I‘m getting tired of hearing that you should be with the boy-who-lived. He’s an all right chap but I can safely say that I would rather you had nothing to do with him in that way if you catch my drift. Okay, that sounded a little over protective but I’m sure you can understand my reasoning.

I would think that Ron would let it alone, for your sake as well as his. All right, for myself as well. I can tell you one thing though luv, it will be a long war if he keeps that up. Maybe you could give him what for? He sure as hell won’t listen to me and you’re the only one he really listens to at all anymore, Gin.

On to better news, though you may have already heard it by the time this letter gets to you. Potter asked Granger to marry him. Of course she said yes, rather enthusiastically by the way. I walked in half way through and nearly made both jump out of their skins. Got Potter to promise to give us good seats at the wedding before stepping out. I have never heard that woman shriek that loud before! Apparently Granger does has a voice that can rise above an annoyed growl.

The only down side to this proposal and usually joyous event (beside the fact that were facing war tomorrow) is that I started thinking. You know what happens when I start thinking, my thoughts always wander to you. This time I thought of our own engagement. Nearly drove me mad within two seconds of the thought entering my mind. I hope you’re happy that you have this control over me, no one else has ever possessed it. Well, except one but that was different and we won’t think on him.

You know, I never thought I’d have to use this stationary again. I thought I’d be able to spend every day with you and not need a quill and parchment in place of mouthed speech. It’s not a happy thought but at least we still have a way to communicate before that too is taken from us.

I’ll try to come home as soon as I can luv. I hated walking away from you this morning; you have no idea how hard it was. Hopefully there won’t be a need to again.

I love you Ginny, with all my heart and I can’t wait to come home. Make sure to be there when I do, or I’ll come looking for you and that‘s a promise. I’ll write again soon.

Forever yours

Draco

My breath caught in my throat as I read the letter over a third and fourth time. He’d been gone maybe half a day and the need for additional oxygen was becoming more and more desirable. The hyperventilating began as soon as I had sat down on the floor in front of the fire, making my chest burn for hours later. That was how the owl found me and I greedily snatch up the letter in its beak. How is it possible that one man could make me react this way? I had promised myself that no one would control me ever again, not after...But here I was, taking in the words on the page as if it were my ticket to life, my way to solace. Of course it was not the same kind of control; I could remember everything that had happened that day, I was not covered in chicken blood, and I wasn’t running to a diary. And, according to the letter, I had the same control over Draco. It was strange…

I looked around the front room again, scanning over the people moving in scattered picture frames. Their smiles brought some comfort, the warmth of memories pulling a small laugh from my throat, but not nearly enough to brighten my mood for long.

Standing, my legs stiffened from sitting to long, I stumbled over to the far wall. Draco’s face was grinning back at me from within the black and white surface while he tried to keep a hold on picture-me’s waist. Picture-me was giggling and trying to escape from view but not getting any farther than the edge before being snatched back into Draco’s arms. The picture had been shot only a few hours before he had got down on one knee and proposed. I was still blind to what he had been planning at that point. But after a late breakfast in bed, at trip to London, dinner in a Muggle restaurant, I had figured something was up. Near sunset, he pulled out a simple silver ring, a thin crimson layer rounding the top and bottom of the band inspired by our stationary.

“It fits us,” he had said later that night.

A smile crept onto my lips as his voice floated through my mind, my eyes still watching the struggling, miniature pair.

“You’ve made me a better man Gin and I don’t think I would be the person I am today without you. You make my world one that I want to live in, as long as you’re there. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone or anything. Please, make me the luckiest man alive and say that you’ll be my wife.”

His voice had shaken as he spoke which, added to the rambling, making me laugh as tears burst out of their hiding places. Apparently, what he had really wanted to say never came out but what did couldn’t have been more perfect. It was one of the best days of my life, the other one following only a few months later.

Looking at the picture made a harsh pain stab my heart, watching how happy we were together making the distance between us now seem even more unbearable. I wanted him. The need was suddenly unbearable, causing my body to unwillingly flinch away.

My fists ball at my sides as I fight off my sudden anger towards the man I had once considered my blood relative. He had taken so many of my loved ones away; my father, my brothers and now Draco. The boy wonder. Ha! He wasn’t so wonderful now…

“Doesn’t he have enough?” I ask through clenched teeth. My logic tried to reason with me, telling me it was the only way for us to be saved, that I really loved Harry and was grateful to him in so many ways. But he had taken Draco from me and that was something I could not easily forgive. To hell with logic…

I was dangerously close to an explosion, fury wrapping in a tight blanket over my heart and become red before my eyes. A crash sounded from the kitchen, no doubt a plate being thrown against the wall by no visible means. I spun around, ready to throttle something else, when my eyes landed on Draco’s letter. The fire inside me was smothered in an instant, replaced by a dull ache. I ran a hand through my hair and let out a soft sigh before reaching out for the last bit of him I had left. Clutching it to my chest, I turn to walk upstairs to find my own crimson-lined paper. The tears were already beginning to fall down my cheeks as I mounted the steps. Just when I thought I’d run dry again…

Author’s note: So, chapter three is fixed. Hope you’re enjoying this so far!

4. Chapter Four

Dear Draco

I hate it that you’re so far away. I mean, you’re not that far, but knowing that you’re somewhere I can’t be makes the distance seem further. Why wouldn’t you let me come? I can fight just as well as you can or at least I could have helped Madame Pomfrey. Why do I have to stay home while you’re off risking you’re life? Okay, maybe I’m sounding rash but I’d rather be there, with you, risking my life, than here at home going crazy.

The house is so empty without you. I never realized how large it was before today. It was always filled with light and love, no need for loneliness or desperation. I can’t wait till you come home. I don’t know how long I can take this.

I should probably go round to visit mum today. She’s been worried sick about Ron and the others and now you.

Speaking of Ron, I’m sorry ‘bout you’re run in and I will have a word with him soon. He’ll be getting a letter from mum anyways so I might as well pitch in and remind him that he loves his little sister. I will not have my brother bashing my husband while they are both on the same side and I would expect him to look out for you. I know you’re probably giving the paper that look that you give me when you think I’m crazy, the one were you frown but raise an eyebrow. Tell me if I got it right though I don’t have any doubt that I did.

I miss you. I want you to come home. Please be safe and, if it’s not too much to ask, look out for the others too. Mum’s already had it hard since dad was killed by…you know who. She’d never recover if any of you, including you Draco, didn’t make it home. I don’t think I would either be honest. I won’t go into that though. I don’t think I need to. Just, come home to me.

I love you with all my heart, mind, body and soul and I can’t wait to show you again when you get home.

Forever yours

Ginny

She was obviously trying to kill me. There was no other explanation for her malicious attempt to guilt me into going through with my plan to drop everything and run (if it came to that) home. And to bring up her competence? Again? We had spoken about this particular topic far too many times and of course she had to be a brilliant witch who had a wonderful talent in healing. For all I knew she could save our world for us and ended the war in a heart beat. But I wouldn’t allow it. I couldn’t. The very thought of her being in the faintest hint of danger sent shivers down my spine. And I refused to lose her that way. She had been the only thing that kept me from falling apart and indulging in the drastic.

I took in a deep breath, closing my eyes as I tried to collect my thoughts. Her other request was to keep everyone safe. Whether knowingly or not, she had neglected to mention how I would go about achieving this particular feat. Ron sure as hell wouldn’t accept my aid, even if the Dark Lord himself picked the bloody prat out of a crowd and drew a target on his chest. Harry would be more agreeable, along with the twins, and would except help if offered. But for as long as I’d known Ron, he had been a big-headed, self assured git and would never take anything I had to offer. On the other hand however, he would probably say the same for me.

It was taking every bit of will power I had as well to keep from storming out of the camp right now and hurrying home. I had to physically dig my feet into the soft turf outside my tent to keep me grounded. Ginny’s letter lay on my lap and my hands lay over top of it, balled so tight that I could feel my nails beginning to bite into my palms.

“Woah, definitely time for you to relax Draco...And I thought I was emotional.”

Perfect, bloody perfect. Just the little snot I didn’t want to see.

“Bugger off Longbottom.”

“Hey, just thought you might want to know that you’re going to break something or someone with all that anger coming off you,” the blubbering oaf replied, holding up his hands in weak defense.

“And it’ll be you if you don’t make yourself scarce,” I shot back, not even bothering to check my anger.

Now, I knew I shouldn’t have been taking out my frustration on him, but Neville was just the type of person you could threaten so easily and it always made you feel better. We’d had this sort of relationship all through Hogwarts; I’d poke fun, humiliate and almost all out torture the man (boy then) and he would take it without much resistance. Since then, I had calmed my desires to say anything that would maim his already wounded self respect. We had come to an unspoken understanding though that our relationship would get no better than a distant respect. Ginny had been a major contributor to this agreement, as she had tried to mend Neville’s broken spirit all throughout their time together at Hogwarts and becoming close friends. I, due to concern of losing a promising relationship, had held up my end of it. I had kept my comments to myself and Ginny had been happy. That was all that mattered. But now, the guy was just asking for it.

“Oh, all right,” he said, his voice deflated and weak. “I’ll see you around then Draco.”

Great Merlin. How did she always do this to me? As the blundering idiot began to walk off, the hairs on the back of my neck rose. I could feel her glaring at me even though she was no where near us. It was a conditioned response, and I detested it. The prices you pay for the ones you love…

“Damn,” I muttered quietly and then beckoned Neville back. He smiled, as if knowing how large my conscious had grown in the last two years.

“What’s bothering you then?” he asked, plopping himself down next to me on the small wooden bench I had seated myself upon.

“I don’t think it’s any of you’re concern Longbottom,” I snarled, recoiling as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

This wasn’t easy. In fact it was ridiculously cruel and unforgiving how difficult it was to confide in the Gryffindor klutz. But once I started, the words began to flow far too easily. His nature was to sit and listen without interruption so it was hard not to get immersed in letting everything out. There was such a contrast between the two feelings that I always felt the shock of it when I finished.

And I told him everything, from Harry’s request to Ron’s failure to accept me as a brother in law and the letters that Ginny and I had exchanged in the last few hours. As usual, Neville sat quietly and listened to my rants and ravings. He would nod every so often but didn’t offer advice till he knew I had exhausted all my problems.

“Wow,” he said after a while. “You’ve got quite a lot on you’re plate, don’t you.”

“You have no idea,” I said, sarcastically speaking of course because by now he definitely had the gist of it all.

“Seems to me like you need to get home as soon as possible.”

“Gee, ya think?” I rolled my eyes and shook my head, amazed by how Neville functioned everyday. My comment was only answered with a soft chuckle and a “you’ll be back with her before you know it”.

Sitting back, I raised my gaze to the temperamental sky. I could only hope that what Longbottom had said would stay true, that I would get home soon, get back to her.

‘Just hold on Gin,’ I mentally pleaded. ‘The first chance I get, I’m getting the hell out of here. Just wait for me.’

Author’s note: Yes for chapter four being re-done. Apparently today I’m on a roll…

5. Chapter Five

One month, twenty-three days and ten hours later…

My moods had been changing drastically in those weeks (almost months) but mostly were akin to irritability. I’d never felt that way before and the fact that I had become annoyed with everything made me even more annoyed. It was so confusing, making things worse on top of all the other problems I was suffering from. I began to collect broken dishes in a bag, too lethargic to bother fixing them. I couldn’t figure out why all my anger was taken out on the china wedding presents but I didn’t bother to stop and try to calm myself either.

And to top it all off, I’d started to get sick, really sick. I felt ill the mornings and either yak what was left of the semi-digested food in my stomach from the night before or felt like I should’ve for the rest of the day.

Oh there were other things too; being tired all the time, hurting in places that shouldn’t (especially because of my lack of exercise), visiting my friend the toilet more often than not for different reasons, etc. Basically, it was the worst almost two months I had ever lived through. Okay not true, the whole thing in the Chamber had been horrible too but this could almost be its rival. Draco being gone just made it all the worse.

Finally, I had to get out of the house or it would have driven me crazy. I went to the only place I could where I could vent, laugh and cry in the same house. The Burrow.

“Ginny?!”

“Yes mum, I’m home.”

“Oh I thought you’d never come!”

“I was here a few weeks ago…”

“But it feels like forever to an old woman like me.”

“You’re certainly not o…”

“Yes, yes dear. Come in! Come in!”

Now, my mum (though I loved her completely) had always had a way of dismissing things she doesn’t want to hear. She was in love with the idea ageing and if anyone tried to tell her that only derangement came with age…I felt sorry for them.

From the time I was a child, that she loved the idea of getting old after her children had grown up and flown from the nest. I don’t think however, flying away to fight a war was what she had in mind.

“How have you been mum?” I asked, taking my seat at the table as she began preparing tea.

“Worried,” she replied, her voice carrying a hint of exasperation as she bustled about the kitchen. “Your brother’s have always had a knack for making my heart beat a little faster and they are horrid when it comes to keeping their mother informed. The last letter I received was over a week ago…”

“They said they were going on a raid near Kent. Even if they were on brooms it would be a long way. You know their not allowed to apparate-”

“I know, I know. I just wish there would be some news. Anything would helpful right now.”

“Just be patient mum.” I felt my throat tighten, the hypocrisy almost stifling. It was hard to tell my mother to be patient when for so long I had allowed my concern to swallow me while I was alone in my home.

There was a long pause. Only when the kettle whistle nosily did we both realize the silence that had fallen, too lost in our own thoughts. My mother actually gasped as she came back to the present and realized that she’d only half finished getting things together.

“How are you?” she asked hurriedly, trying to break the sudden tension with conversation.

“Well, I told you last time I was here that I’d been sick for a while, hadn’t I?” Mum nodded. “Lately it’s been getting worse and I can’t control my temper…”

“You’ve never been able to dear,” mum said amusedly as she set out cups and saucers as well as a plate of cookies. “You’re almost as bad as Ron you know-”

“Yes but I can’t at all now mum. At least before I had some control.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really! I can’t keep a level head and I’m getting aggravated over the smallest things! I got mad at a piece of carpet yesterday, just because it was curling slightly!”

I dropped my head into my hands, my elbows already resting on the table top. Wetness leaked onto my hands from my eyes, pooling in my palms before dripping down to my wrists. My body trembled as I tried to hold in my frustration. Yet another sudden mood swing that had befallen me…How lovely…

Mum just listened quietly smoothed my hair, a comforting gesture that had always calmed me as a child.

“It’s just so h-hard,” I sobbed, unable to keep it in any longer. “I need Draco to be here but he’s so far away and…and always getting in danger and…and I can’t protect him!”

“Ginny, I think I know what’s causing this,” she cooed, her words quickly grabbing my attention.

“What?” I asked, my head snapping up while my hands made quick work of wiping away any evidence of my weakness.

“I don’t, no, I know this isn’t about Draco,” she said, a grin quickly spreading on her lips. “I mean, he certainly helped this along but its got nothing to do with his role in this war or how far away he is…”

“I don’t understand.” And I really didn’t. The woman was speaking in codes, parcel tongue almost and it was impossible to understand. I watched as she bit her lip, trying to conceal her sudden excitement but barely holding onto her calm grin.

“Ginny, dear,” she said, taking my hand. “I do believe, ’course you must see a doctor at St. Mungo’s, but I am fairly positive…”

“Mum, spit it out!” I demanded impatiently. I had never heard her ramble this happily before and quite frankly, it was rather disturbing.

“I do believe you’re pregnant,” mum replied, nearly bursting with sudden joy.

Now, I have never been the type of person to faint easily but before I knew it, I had begun fall backwards. I was unconscious before I had hit the floor.

Author’s note: Yay! Chapter five is fixed. I hope you’re enjoying it! And certainly fell free to comment on it. I could always use a good critiquing…

6. Chapter Six

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!

7. Chapter Seven

Pregnant. Me, Ginevra Weasley, a mother? How was that possible? I mean, I knew how it happened but…I could barely take care of myself! How in the name of Merlin’s beard was I supposed to care for a baby?!

It had been two days since I’d sent the letter to Draco before the mess started. I knew that, upon reading it over many times, I sounded happier than I felt but I had sent it anyways in hopes that my feelings of, for lack of a better description, fear and unhappiness was just a fluke and would pass soon. And who was I to keep such a secret from him, the only man who I’d ever really loved, the man who would be hurt if I kept it from him?

I’d watched the sky for several hours, looking towards the path of the owl’s flight. It was as blue as ever, not a cloud present. It must have been caused by the high hopes of the people left behind, the ones who hoped and prayed every day that their loved ones would return home.

When the owl came back later on that day he was empty clawed, causing my stomach to knot and twist so tight with grief that I had had to double over to ease the pain. The looming sadness that had enfolded my heart the moment Draco had disappeared from my sight once again flickered to life, bringing with it a spring of salty tears to my eyes. I told myself it was because Draco had not replied, for what other reason was there? I was with child. I should’ve been happy. Right?

But I couldn’t be happy. Call me a horrible person, I dare say I could agree to it myself, but no matter how much I tried to convince myself that the small, still undeveloped life growing inside me was something to be happy about, I make myself feel it. I didn’t cry for Draco’s absence that day. I cried for myself.

Anger and resentment made like tentacles inside me, ensnaring my logical thought and slowly filling themselves in its place.

“I don’t want you,” I remember yelling at my still flat stomach in one fit of rage. “I hate you!”

And I did. I hated the thing inside me, despite its form of creation. I hated everything it stood for because Draco wasn’t where he was supposed to be, at home, with me. I hated it because my biggest fear was that Draco wouldn’t come home and that I would have to raise this child alone. I hated it because I had already begun to love its existence and I feared this attachment. It was insane reasoning but I couldn’t stop myself from becoming consumed by it.

In the long, drawn out span of time over those two days of silence from Draco, I almost did loose my sense. I wandered around our home with hatred coursing through me, controlling my every thought. I didn’t sleep. I rarely ate. I was running on raw emotion and my mind was beginning to betray me.

In the early morning of the third day I wandered into the kitchen, my rumbling stomach finally getting the better of me and forcing me to give in. I wanted a toasted cucumber and peanut butter sandwich, possibly the only thing that would have brought a little bit of comfort. I should have just let myself starve. It would’ve made things easier.

I was cutting the cucumber, waiting for the toast to finish, when the glint of the utensil in my hand caught my eye. For some reason, I had pulled a large carving knife; I hadn’t done the dishes in about a week and that was one of the only clean knives I had left. Thoughts began cloud my brain, bringing up possibilities that I hadn’t thought of before. I didn’t want this baby. If I did it just right…

My hands began to tremble as I pushed the cucumber aside and my fingers curling to protectively cling to the knife of their own accord. I grabbed the nearest dish rag and pulled it along the metal, watching morning rays get caught and then shine off it when it was again exposed. It felt as if it was trying to bring me some solace in my desperate need for comfort.

‘If I do this, I can end it,’ I thought anxiously. ‘I won’t have to deal with this thing inside me. Draco wouldn’t mind. Just as long as I’m safe and happy…’

It had only been two full days and I was already looking like I should be wrapped up somewhere in the basement of St. Mungo’s. It was definitely a testament to how debilitating the mind could be under the right circumstances.

I reached inside my bath robe that I had worn since the day before, my fingers eagerly seeking the wooden rod concealed in the front pocket. Now, why I had decided on using the knife over the wand I later could not understand. But I had lost all sense of logic, my need for freedom from the thing I had thought to be wretched inside me clouding my senses like a blanket thrown over a light.

Placing my wand on the counter top, next to the abandoned cucumber, I grasped the hilt with both hands and aimed the gleaming metal tip against my stomach. I inhaled deeply. I closed my eyes. I …

“Ginny!”

A voice broke me out of my insanity, freeing my mind from the almost impenetrable hold of my insanity.

“Ginny stop!”

“Mum,” I whispered, unable to open my eyes or even move for that matter. “Help me…”

The knife was ripped from my hands within seconds and I heard it crash against the wall opposite me. My mother’s arms were wrapped tightly around me, catching me as I my legs gave out.

“Oh Ginny,” she cooed as we both sunk to the floor. “It’s all right. You’re safe now.”

With those words, I broke down. Wave upon wave of tears fell from my eyes, soaking mum’s shirt front. She rocked me, there on the kitchen floor, like she had when I was little. She rocked me as I cried, holding me close so I wouldn’t feel alone, never making any accusations or ask what the hell was wrong with me. Just being a mum to her distressed daughter.

I didn’t know how long we sat there, me crumpled against her chest and sobbing so hard that I thought dishes would have shattered from the amount of emotion that was seeping out of me. To my surprise, I never found any dishes broken the next day.

“There, there,” mum said over and over again. “It’s all right. Let it all out…”

When the storm of tears finally receded and allowed my cheeks to dry, all I could think about was what Draco would think. I felt suddenly afraid. Would he be furious, coming home and expecting a pregnant wife only to see that that wife wasn’t pregnant and she had done the deed of removing that pregnancy herself? It was the exact opposite to what I had been thinking before when the knife was still in my hands. How quickly opinions change when reason is put into play.

“Mum…” I choked out after a few moments of silence.

“Yes luv,” she replied, concern and fear brimming the forced calm tone of her voice as she stroked my hair.

“Don’t tell Draco…”

Author’s note: Last chapter to edit is finally finished. And now I can move onto writing new ones. Yay!

8. Chapter Eight

“I think he’s coming to.”

“S’bout time, bloody wanker.”

“Oh come off it Ron, you were the one who knocked him out in the first place.”

“Didn’t you hear? Giving the father-to-be a good smack then letting him hit his head on the corner of a trunk is the newest way to celebrate these days.”

“All the uncles are doing it.”

“How could you be so out of the loop?”

“Guess being hauled up in this forsaken place for this long does hinder hearing about the latest trends…”

“And the readiness for ones reactions…”

“Too right. Why didn’t we think of it in the first place? I’ve always wanted to give him a go…Even if he has turned half decent…”

“But what fun would that have been? Ron puffed up like one of Hagrid’s pets is far more amusing…”

“Oh shut up…”

“Uh oh, Fred…Ronnikins is getting a wee bit temperamental.”

“Oh dear! Do you think he’ll smack us too?”

“Pack it in, the three of you, before I give you all a good smack.”

And this, ladies and gentleman, was the family I had willingly bonded myself to. What a great reminder to wake up to…

Harry’s threat was met with a matching set of cackles from one side of the room and a long stream of quiet cursing from the other. I couldn’t help but smirk…and instantly wish I had tried a little harder.

My head was groggy, not to mention throbbing in two places and my body…Well, that was and interesting sensation I must say. Every limb seemed to have decided that it enjoyed sitting in a seized up state, making movement much more time consuming and awkward. Cautiously, at the speed that those sloth things admired so much, I raised one hand to assess the damage. My fingers found one rather large bump just above the base of my neck and then a very tender patch that spread from my cheek bone to my jaw. Excellent…

“Will you four belt up?” I asked, irritated that the squabbling had continued.

“You’re awake?”

“No Potter, I’m dreaming and you lot should be wearing tutus…”

Sitting up was a real treat that made me thankful that I hadn’t opened my eyes yet. I got maybe an inch of the pillow before falling back. A few stars danced in the darkness that my eye lids had provided, promising there would have been more had I chose to use my vision.

“You might not want to try that yet mate,” Harry said cautiously. “You hit your head pretty hard. Madame Pomfrey said it’d be another day or so before you’re ready to head out.”

Finally I opened my eyes, ready to give them all glare for existing, but then I noticed one of the Weasley twin’s arm in a sling. He cradled it against him unconsciously while his dirt covered face beamed, clearly still amused by the light hearted banter. But he was not the only one with injuries. The other twin was sporting a black eye but the way he hunched hinted at other wounds, unseen beneath his mud-caked robes. Ron was lying on a bed not far from me, staring moodily at the roof of the tent, his entire right leg bandaged. And Harry, who seemed the best out of them all, had a deep gash on his face that wasn’t healing very well. The sight sent a small tremor running down my spine and beneath the surface of my skin.

“What happened?” I asked, before I could rephrase the question to edit the amount of concern.

“Another raid,” Harry replied coolly, his expression as blank as he could muster. The boy was learning my bad habits. “It happened just this morning. Lost another seventeen and Hogsmede is now nothing but rubble.”

I rubbed my palm down my face, carefully avoiding the area Ron had so colourfully painted with his fist. Instantly I was furious. At Ron, at Harry, at the Dark Lord, at his followers, at myself…

“Do we have any idea what their plan is?” I asked hesitantly, trying to find something distracting so I wouldn’t try anything irrational.

“No,” Harry replied with a sigh, as I expected. “They’re becoming so sporadic that it’s nearly impossible to predict what’s coming next.”

There was a moment of silence after Harry had finished, the five of us becoming lost in our own thoughts. It was unnatural, the way every one instantaneously couldn’t find something to say. I looked at the others and found the same worried face on each. We knew it wouldn’t be long before the raids became the war, the towns became a permanent battlefield, and so many of the living soon would be pushing up the daisies.

“We’ve got to do something,” Ron eventually said quietly from his bed.

“Like what?” one of the twins snapped, George I think. Even their humor could not lighten the weight on our chests, and they knew it. “We’re doing all we can just to stay alive let alone keep our families safe. What else can we do Ron, other than fight when they show themselves? What else?! If you have a brilliant plan about how to save us all, I’m sure everyone would appreciate hearing it.”

It was the first time I had ever seen either of the Weasley twins erupt like that. They survived on making people laugh, and to see them let loose like this on their own brother was harder to watch that I had imagined. The war was chipping away at our sanity; every day a little more was taken. Suddenly I felt suffocated, like my breath wouldn’t come as easily. For the very first time since I arrived at the camp, I was terrified.

Ron did not answer and Harry did not interject. Without a response, George had nothing to continue his release of tension. Silence again swallowed us in which I thought that there was a good possibility of a fight breaking out right there in the Medical tent. My muscles twitched with nervous anticipation, ready to jump and break things up or take a swing if necessary. The others must have felt it too because the twins turned and left, stomping out into the miserable weather. Harry shook his head but following soon after, leaving me alone with Ron. Lucky me…

It surprised me when carrot top, despite the sound of hatred in his voice offered up something that sounded a little like...I couldn’t be sure. He mumbles horribly so whatever he said came out sounding like a jumble of experimental sounds.

“What?”

“I said you better take care of my sister and that child or I’ll be around to beat you bloody every day of the rest of your miserable life,” he grumbled a little more loudly. It was the best apology I was ever going to get from him.

“There’s no need to worry about that Ron.”

“Well good, because if I have to, you’ll be sorry.”

“You won’t.”

“Good.”

It was then that it all came rushing back to me. Ginny, our baby, the fact that I was so far away and she was probably going insane from the fact that I hadn’t replied yet. I looked up at the calendar crudely hung near the front of the tent which showed that good ol’ Ron knocked me out nearly four days ago.

Great going you bloody sod, I thought angrily as I tossed a glare over in his direction. Unfortunately, he had taken up his previous activity and returned to staring at the course material of the tent above him. I forced my mouth to remain shut as I looked for something to write with and on. On my bedside table however, lay the very silver lined objects I was looking for. A note from Harry sat on top of it. Figured you’d want these, was all it said but I could recognize his sloppy penmanship anywhere.

Author’s note: Sorry this took so long to update. I’ve been really busy and writing has been on the back burner forever. This chapter isn’t the greatest in comparison to the others but I’m hoping that I’ll pick up whatever I had before for the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! J

9. Chapter Nine

I just couldn’t handle it on my own. The day I nearly killed the life within my stomach was the day my mother bundled me up and took me away from the home that had been slowly destroying my sanity. We were going home, she told me, my first home. The Burrow.

My whole body shook as she carted me through the door and upstairs to my old bedroom. I collapsed as soon as I was in safe distance of my old bed, exhaustion taking over and causing me to black out. And for the first time in what seemed like decades, I slept well, without terrifying dreams that made me even more fearful for my world than I was when awake. For the first time, I had slept through the night without Draco by my side. I had always sworn that the Burrow had something special to it, some handed down power, and it took coming home to truly believe it again.

When I finally awoke almost a full two days later, my room was dark. Familiar smells eased me into the waking world; my bed sheets with its warm lavender, my room with its sweet yet woody tang, mum’s baking.

The Grandfather clock down stairs began its time telling song. Five-thirty in the morning. I rolled over, willing myself back into my peaceful slumber. No one would be up for hours yet, except maybe mum. Sure enough, as soon as the thought crossed my mind, pots began to bang in the kitchen, followed by a soft string of curses as my mother tried to hush the noisy baking tools.

I smiled and then listened for Ron’s snoring to catch and then start up again like it always did. That boy was the deepest sleeper I knew and, if we let him, would probably sleep his life away.

At first there was nothing, making me wondered if Ron had woken up already by accident. I listened hard for footsteps to pad their way across the room above me. But there was nothing, no sound at all.

I opened my eyes and turned to glare at the ceiling. Straining my ears, I concentrated on trying to hear signs of what the rest of my family was up to. The walls were paper thin so surely I would have heard someone move. But again there was no sign of life. It took another couple of pots smacking together from downstairs, again followed by a few quiet but colourful curses before I remembered why I was here.

I wasn’t fourteen. This wasn’t summer break. I was married to Draco Malfoy, who was off at war with what family I had left. And I was here, at the Burrow, pregnant, and going insane like I had been before.

Trying not to let it all come back that quickly was futile. I buried my face in my pillow, rolling over so fast that my back cracked, and screamed. The sound was muffled but it was enough to bring my mother running. Her large strides thundered up the rickety steps and the creaking floor boards and within seconds I heard my door fly open, smacking hard against the wall.

“Ginny?! Ginny, what’s wrong?! Are you sick?! Where does it hurt?! Talk to me sweetheart-”

My bed groaned as she sat next to me, her warm hands moving to rest on my shoulders. Carefully, she rolled me over and bundled me up in her arms. Like she had on my kitchen floor she rocked me, my face becoming buried in her tattered nightgown, and I couldn’t help but feel a little calmer.

“What’s wrong?” she asked for the second time, her voice loosing its hysteria somewhat. “Did you have a bad dream?”

I shook my head, surprisingly managing not to cry.

“Are you hurt?”

Again I shook my head.

“Are you sick?”

Again.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” my mother quietly begged. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me and you know how anxiety does my heart in.”

Somehow, a small, breathy giggle escaped me. Beneath me I felt my mother’s entire body relax, the way a bullfrog deflates after he’s done his bit.

“Well I’m glad you think it’s funny,” she muttered, taking advantage of my reaction. “Because I know watching me tear my hair out is just hysterical.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed again.

“You just wait my dear. One day you will be faced with something just as uproariously funny as this and I shall sit back and chuckle till my sides are sore.”

My eyes watered and my head flew back as bouts of laughter exited my mouth. It wasn’t even that funny but soon, mum joined in and I just couldn’t stop. For a moment, my heart felt lighter, the weight that had been sitting there for months lifting to allow me for just a little while to be…happy.

Eventually, a cramp formed in my stomach that forced me to calm. Mum followed soon after but we sat there, beaming at each other with tear streaked faces.

“I haven’t laughed like that…in a long time,” she said, her voice soft but still filled with contentment as her hand went up to wipe away the dampness on my cheeks.

“Me either,” I muttered in reply, recognizing the fact for the first time while returning the favour.

As if sensing the darkness of remembering returning from its shadowed hiding place, mum hugged me close and kissed my cheek. I could tell she was trying her hardest to use whatever means she could to keep me from sinking especially if it came to showing how much she loved me.

“Come on then,” she whispered into my ear as if what she were about to say was a great secret that no one else could know. “I made your favorite for breakfast but I need your help for the finishing touches.”

A grin was instantly on my lips and nodded. It was a childhood thing that I didn’t quite remember starting though it had something to do with Bill getting his letter from Hogwarts and the breakfast that was made for the first Weasley child to leave for the ancient school.

Trying not to snort, we rushed downstairs. Mum had taken firm hold of my hand as soon as we had cleared the bed, her excitement becoming infectious. As we reached the kitchen, our giggles became laughter again which got louder as I recognized the blue bowl in the center of the old, enormous table.

“Do you remember how?” my mum asked, trying to speak around a snigger.

“Of course I remember!” I replied, striving for a shocked face but probably looking more like a constipated fool that sent my mother spiraling into another wild fit.

We took our positions on either side of the table.

“Ready?”

“Ready!”

Somehow incredibly in-sync (as always), we clapped our hands together over the bowl. With huge grins, we pulled in our fingers and rubbed the pads together as if we were dropping pinches of some spice into the brown, blob-like mixture below. After a few seconds, gold sparks erupted and fell from our fingers tips, integrating itself with the stuff. The bowl glowed and embarked on a slow roll that took it in a large circle, using only its rim as a means to move.

“Quick!” my mother said, waving her wand at the stove. Instantly the room was hot, the prehistoric iron mound working its hardest to get to the right heat within a two second time frame. “Get it into the oven before it’s too sweet!”

I grabbed the bowl with both hands, feeling a familiar tingle seep into my skin and float up my arms as I hurtled over the table. The oven door swung open, relieving me of doing the task myself. Carefully I placed the bowl near the back of the oven and slammed the door shut. The sound of metal on metal was jarring but I was to busy getting antsy over what was happening behind the door.

“Oi now! That stove is twice your age! Give it some respect!” my mother called over my shoulder but her voice was so crowded with excitement that the scolding was hardly something to take seriously. Had any of my brothers’ used that much strength on the poor oven, they wouldn’t hear the end of it for weeks. But this was special, and had my mother taken the bowl herself she probably would have done the same.

She came up beside me and together we bent over to watch through the tiny hatch near the door (installed for just the purpose of observing what was inside) as the concoction glowed. At first it just made the bowl rattle hazardously in the heat but then the mixture within it began to take on a life of its own. It twisted and turned, physically forcing the bowl to lie flat and become more like a plate.

“Close it up!” I whispered eagerly as our creation began to take shape. Mum’s slid the iron grate into place, covering the hatch completely. I straightened first, watching as mum put her ear close to the grate.

“This will be a good batch,” she said.

“It’s always a good batch,” I replied, enjoying my sarcasm. She stuck out her tongue at me and I return the childish act easily.

“Somehow, thought, I think this one will be extra unique.” With a look at the oven she stepped back, instructing me to follow. The oven door burst open, swinging in the air that I had occupied not a moment before. The bowl-turned-plate shot out of the darkness, carrying its load over our heads and around the room before it came to a stop on the table.

“Now that,” I said smugly, “is the only way to do pancakes.”

For the rest of the day we baked everything from cookies to bread to cakes. By the time the sun started its ritual setting, the kitchen was filled with sweet things that our stomachs were too full to sample.

“What are we going to do with all this?” mum asked, glancing around the room and rubbing her stomach with a pained look. “If I try to eat anymore I might swell up so large I’ll be an ogress.”

“We could deliver it,” I said, inspired all of the sudden. “I know the Grangers wouldn’t mind some company and I haven’t seen Hermione in ages.”

“You know,” mum said, pausing for a moment as if deep in thought. “That might be the best idea we’ve had all day.”

“I’ve had,” I corrected. “And second best. The pancakes still sit at the top for me.”

“Yes dear, I do believe you’re right,” mum said, chuckling again.

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“To be right?”

“Exactly.”

It took us an hour to locate our old picnic basket and then another half an hour to sort through everything, separate it into what we would give to the Grangers and what we would keep at home and then another five minutes to use a shrinking charm on all the baking.

“Why don’t you go get changed dear,” mum said, wiping her hand along her brow. “But don’t take too long. It’s already nearly eight.”

I nodded and practically ran up the stairs, looking forward to this surprise visit with more energy than I’d had in months.

My mum, ever the smart woman, had managed to bring along some of my clothing and washed them while I was asleep by the look of them. I pulled my batter covered shirt over my head and was reaching for a clean one when I caught sight of my reflection out of the corner of my eye. Frowning, I stepped back and positioned myself in front of my chipped mirror. I stood there for a moment, just looking over myself; my face and its bags and blushed cheeks, my boney shoulders and arms from the amount of food I hadn’t been eating before I came home, my stomach…

My stomach. Instead of the flat plane I remembered it had taken on a soft curve. I turned sideways to examine the new growth further. It wasn’t huge but it was not something I could have reasonably ignored and passed of as bloating from all the baking I had gorged myself on that afternoon.

Gently, I ran a hand over the new mound. It didn’t feel like the evil creature I was expecting. It didn’t feel like something I’d hate. My heart fluttered just by touching it.

“Ginny!”

“Coming!”

I grabbed the t-shirt I had been reaching for and traded my pajama bottoms quickly for a pair of jeans before bolting out my bedroom door again. Something felt weird, but not a frightening weird. I couldn’t make sense of the reaction and before I realized it, my hand had gone back to rest on my stomach.

I found my mother by the back door, standing a little more rigidly than she had when I’d left her.

“I’m ready,” I said unnecessarily, unsure what to make of her posture. Her head wiped around the moment I spoke, trying unsuccessfully to remove the shock from her face.

“Um…this…this just came for you,” she stammered, holding out a silver lined envelope. Whatever air I had had in my lungs was suddenly nonexistent as my eyes locked onto it, making me gasp. I couldn’t move for a moment, paralyzed by the thought of rejection. What if he didn’t want the child? What if he didn’t want me because I was the one who carried it?

“Take it dear,” my mother urged, taking a step forward.

Awkwardly, I took the letter from her and gradually opened it, finding two pieces of parchment within…

Dear Ginny

You have no idea how happy I am (though happy is no where near the word I’m searching for). I doubt Harry will ever let me live down what happened when I opened your letter. I promise to go into detail when I see you. Which by the way, or so I’ve heard, will be very soon. I told you I’d return! And for the most part everyone is still in one piece. Rumor has it that reinforcements are coming in, a lot of them, and they’re sending us home for as long as they can. Isn’t it amazing! I’ll be finding out tomorrow whether it’s true or not so I won’t mail this until I know. If it’s not, then I’ll come home anyway (you know my expertise in sneaking).

I’m coming home Ginny and you had better be waiting for me when I get there. Don’t make me come searching for you because you know I will.

I love you and can’t wait to do that fatherly thing I’ve been told I’m supposed to do. You know, rub your stomach and what not. I’m seriously the happiest man in the world today. Nothing can dampen my mood.

Your other half and our child’s father.

Draco

I had tears in my eyes before I finished the letter. My heart swelled, beating stronger and stronger as my breathing became deeper. I actually became dizzy as I re-read the last line before I remembered there was another part. I nearly ripped it in half trying to get it out of the envelope…

Dear Ginny

It’s true, I’m coming home. But I’ve got some horrible news, today of all days. There was another raid this morning. I’m sorry Gin, but Ron’s dying. We’ll be at St. Mungo’s around nine o’clock tonight.

I love you

Draco

Author’s note: So I really want to know what you think on this one. It took me from just twelve in the afternoon to exactly 8:41 at night. I actually felt happy and suddenly sick as I was writing it, it was weird. But I really want to know what you think, like you wouldn’t believe. Critiques whether good or not so good are all welcome! J

10. Chapter Ten

“Okay, take it easy coming down. I don’t know what a rough landing will do it him.”

Harry’s voice broke through my fog smudged mind just in time. I had been starting to drift, pulling at the edge off the make-shift bed that was attached.

The trip from Hogwarts to St. Mungo’s was a hellish ride. There was no other way to describe it. Or at least no other word I could put to it at that time.

From the time we took off to the time we landed the will to keep going wavered and began to diminish along with any stored energy that we had somehow managed to keep. To add to our problems, our haste was labored by the beds were secured to brooms. The one I cornered carried a still unconscious Ron and another man that I didn’t care much about. And no matter how mad I still was at the stupid git, it bothered me that Ron didn’t make a sound the whole trip. Every few minutes I found that I would glance back to make sure he was still breathing.

The attack that morning had been a blood bath. The fatality count was higher than in all the other raids combined. The Death Eaters were relentless, laughing as man after man went down. It was all we could to kill them first before getting killed ourselves. The faint hearted or the ones who refused to kill were the firsts to fall and, after watching this, the men quickly turned their hearts against caring for the Dark Lords stinking followers.

I didn’t know what curse Ron had been hit with but it had left him staring blankly at the grey sky above. It took roughly a minute or so till the arrogant fool met his own muddy grave, I made sure of it. By the time I got back to Ron, there was nothing left in his eyes. No anger, no fear, no life. Nothing. The only sign that showed he was still in fact alive was a quick pulse that throbbed in his neck and his slight, jagged breath. He was in there somewhere, I knew he was, but on the outside he looked like a corps with something burrowing in his chest.

By the time the battle was over and the Death Eaters thwarted backwards once more, the sight was littered with corpses. Neville, somehow once again making it through, curled in a ball for a moment before being sick. It was what I wanted to do, my own stomach twisting so violently that I almost followed Neville’s suit, but I couldn’t and forced myself to stand there until Harry finally gave word that it was time to head out.

My thoughts were constantly blurred from then on, making concentration a hard task. Exhaustion dulled my senses as if I had been injected with a sleeping draught and the ill feeling did not fade. The frightening thing was that I wasn’t the worst off. We had set off in pods from the camp, taking off sporadically over the afternoon and into the evening. My pod was the second last to leave so I had the chance to watch men drop from the sky, unable to concentrate enough to go even a few yards. Many beds were made and got worse with every creation. There were at the very least two per pod and sometimes more often than not carried several unconscious men. It wasn’t good.

By the time we actually reached St. Mungo’s, I was ready to drop myself. The only thought keeping me from crashing down towards the ground below was that Ginny was going to be there. It was the first night I had seen my wife in over two months. My pregnant wife. Every time I thought about it I had to smile.

There were healers waiting for us when we landed. They rushed forward the instant we set down and rushed all the bed ridden men off towards the hospital doors. Another wave of blue clad people came out for the rest of us, doing initial checks before ushering us inside and to different wards. By then, my feet were giving out beneath me. I detested it and tried to shrug off a healer’s arm but after a few steps I stumbled.

“Careful mate,” Harry said from behind. “Can’t have you getting injured now. Though that would make for a good story. Got all the way to the hospital and-”

“Stuff it Potter,” I grumbled and grudgingly accepted the help.

The bright lights of the hospital were blinding compared to the twilight outside.

“Just a little further,” a voice assured me. It was probably from whoever had pulled my arm over their shoulder but I couldn’t open my eyes. Wherever we were going, it was taking a hell of a long time to get there.

“I want to see my wife,” I said as my exhaustion began to threaten my consciousness. “Ginevra Malfoy. She should be here by now. I need to see her.”

“You will see her after we are done examining you Mr. Malfoy. Until then you must stay calm. You have a few injuries that-”

“No,” I snapped back, an unexplainable fear clutching my already ill stomach. “I need to see her now.”

“I’m sorry sir, but we need to examine-”

“No. Where is she? I’ll go find her myself. I told her I would.”

“Sir-”

“Ginny!”

I couldn’t help it then. My eyes had shot open and I screamed for her as a small crowd pushed its way into the small corridor we were in. This irrational need swept over me so fast that I couldn’t breathe. I tried to move forward to get a better view of the faces before us but the healer held me back. Suddenly another was by my side.

“Let go of me,” I demanded, panic reaching my voice. “Ginny!”

I heard a whispered spell as I struggled against the people holding me before my limbs snapped together. My mouth stopped working and my breathing got tighter. My first panic attack seemed to be out to end my life then and there.

“What have you done to him?!”

I knew that voice. I knew it so well that I finally lost consciousness and slipped into a dark, troubled sleep.

---------

“Calm down, Ginny. The doctor said that they haven’t landed yet and stop muttering under your breath. You’ll be lucky that man’s family doesn’t call you to the Ministry’s attention.”

I loved my mother, completely and unquestionably, but when she went on like this I just wanted her to be miles away so I could love her from afar.

It had taken us only about five minutes to travel from the Burrow to St. Mungo’s and I thanked my dad immensely for it. One of the last things he had done before he went off to war with my brothers was to take a secret portkey so we could travel to and from the hospital and our home. It was for ‘just incase’ and the practical man in him made him do it despite how much he wished that he didn’t have to. Mum had hated him for it, convinced that we would not need it because they would all come home safely. But it was that portkey that allowed her to see and talk to my dad in the few minutes before he died. She would never admit how hurt her pride had been that day.

But after almost an hour of waiting, my thanks was muted.

“I don’t care,” I grumbled in reply. “Let them.”

“Hush,” my mother snapped quietly. “Don’t say that. I refuse to loose another one of my family during this war, especially for something as silly as cursing a man into eating every shoe he could find in the building. Besides-”

“They’ve landed!” someone cried. My head whipped over to see a woman near the window, pointing out and speaking animatedly to the child clutching her leg. I recognized her face but did not bother trying to remember her name and forgot her quickly. I had placed myself as close to the entrance way of the ward as I could for a reason and was not going to let anyone take advantage of the time I wasted on remembering a name. I was on my feet before anyone else and nearly broke my wrists attempting to push open the locked doors.

“I’m sorry Miss but we cannot allow anyone in until the healers have done their checks.”

I spun around and glared at the speaker who denied me access to my husband. She was a young woman, fresh out of school it seemed, and very mousy looking. The last trait was something I instantly took advantage of and exploited violently.

“Let me in or I’ll break down the doors,” I threatened, my voice feeling more like a snarl than anything else.

“I’m sorry Miss but-”

“Do you think I’m joking?”

The woman trembled as other family members joined me in my verbal assault. We surrounded her, throwing comments that were sure to make us feel sorry for her later. It didn’t take long for her will to be overthrown. I made sure to be the first through the doors, nearly getting smacked as they swung back at me.

The pack followed me in as we began our search to find our loved ones. It was an odd sensation, having been a follower for most of my life, but I couldn’t be bothered with stopping to allow someone else to step in. I could only concentrate on one thing. Finding Draco…

“Ginny!”

The sound of my name forced my body to pause and listen. People flew by me, crying out as they found the ones they were searching for. I strained my ears, fighting through the crowd to where I thought I had heard the voice.

“Let go of me. Ginny!”

I began to panic. He was in trouble; Draco needed me, why couldn’t I find him? I waited for him to scream again but it didn’t come. Bodies thwarted me like a human wall and I had to force myself through a small opening between two people. When they finally gave way I almost fell upon him, my Draco. Tears were in my eyes the instant they found him…stiff as a board.

“What have you done to him?!” I shrieked as I leapt forward.

“Please Miss, we have to get him to a bed quickly,” said one of the healers, trying to fight me off. “He’s got some injuries that have to be taken care of right away.”

Another healer appeared with a gurney.

“I’m coming with you,” I told the one that had placed himself between me and Draco while the others gently place him on the floating bed. The man glanced back at his colleagues who only shrugged in response before giving me a nod. I stepped around him and took Draco’s blood covered hand. The contact was the first I’d had in months but despite his unconsciousness, I still felt a tingle streak up my arm. The feeling was so familiar it made the welled up tears trickle down my cheeks.

I didn’t let go again until I was forced to so the healers could do his check. I refused to leave the room when asked, unwilling to let Draco out of my sight for fear of never seeing him again. Two of them seemed frustrated with me (something that I snubbed and didn’t put much thought into) while the other looked slightly amused. I didn’t want his friendship, I wanted them to be gone, but I was forced to wait as they mended Draco’s broken ribs and all the gashes they could find.

Too keep from cursing the entire team working on Draco, I took the time to remember and reacquaint myself with my long lost soul mate. His face was thinner and paler than it had been when he left, but then again, I knew I should have expected that. A healing bruise blossomed on his cheek, blending with the dark circles that surrounded his eyes. His brow was tense, as if he was just as frustrated with the healers as I was, while his platinum hair, though long, still looked like a halo around his head. Despite his ill looking state, he was just as handsome as I remembered and just looking at him made my heart throb in my chest.

It was hard to be patient but the second the healers moved far enough away, I was at Draco’s side. One healer hung back as the others left, putting his hand on my shoulder as I tried to be brave and not cry again.

“I can wake him up for a minute or two but no more,” he said quietly. “He needs rest to heal but he was calling for you before he passed out. Assuming you are Ginny, that is.”

“I am,” I said quietly, looking up at the man’s gentle face. He had the kind of look to him that instantly gave out the fatherly impression. His eyes, though tired, were caring and expressed his understanding of my need. And his smiled was kind as he nodded and pulling his wand from the pocket of his robes.

“Only a few minutes though,” he warned. “So make the most of it because he probably won’t be awake again for a while.”

“Please,” was all I could say.

He nodded again and whispered a charm I couldn’t hear but instantly caused Draco to moan and stir from his slumber. When I looked over my shoulder, the healer was already leaving the room. I made sure to remember to thank him later.

“G-Ginny?” Draco whispered, drawing me back to him as his lids slowly opening to reveal the silver eyes I loved so much. I couldn’t help it. I began to cry.

“I’m here,” I said, my voice broken with happiness. “I’m here Draco.”

He smiled at me, that same charming smile that always had a knack for making my heart jump about in my chest like some wild thing. He chuckled, as if noticing my sudden quickening of heart beats and reached up to press the palm of his hand to my cheek.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, wiping a tear away before gently pulling me down next to him. I got as close as I could to him, wrapping an arm around his torso and laying my head on his shoulder. His warmth seeped through and pushed away the chill that had encased me for so long.

“I’ve missed you too.”

“You better have after all the trouble it took to get here.” He laughed and I listened to it rumble through his chest. The sound was almost as comforting as his voice, just as affectionate with the same effect.

One of his large hands still rested on my cheek, the heat of it warming my skin. His other arm wrapped itself around me so tight I almost couldn’t breathe but I did not fight it. I wanted his touch so badly that it would have killed me if I had to let go right then and there.

“How are you?” he asked after a few seconds, his voice carrying a kind of worry that made me think he knew my secret. I raised my head and searched his face to see if it was true but I couldn’t tell. He was always good at hiding his true thoughts but he usual wore a stone mask to keep them concealed. There was so much emotion in his features that it was hard to tell one from another.

“Better now that you’re here,” I answered honestly. The concern I recognized did not fade though so I tacked an “I’m okay” on the end of my response and it seemed to make a difference. He relaxed instantly, a new smile spread on his lips. The hand that he had on my cheek slipped down my arm to my semi-exposed stomach, giving me insight to what he was really asking about. He rolled onto his side, gently turning me over onto my back as he moved, and rubbed a delicate circle over the small mound that was my stomach. His eyes followed the movement of his hand while I watched him, looking for any signs of repulsion or disgust. But there was none. His face was soft and thoughtful but filled with that look that he always had when he looked at me. Love.

“We’re having a baby,” his said, almost too quietly to hear. “I’m going to be a father.”

He looked up at me and I almost gasped when I saw there were tears in his eyes. And of course, that got me going again. Smiling, he leaned down and kissed me, our tears blending. It was not a harsh kiss like I’d planned on giving him to make the memory of being unable too fade. It was soft, like the look he had when he had put his hand on the place that held our child, but it took my breath away more quickly than any other had.

When he pulled away he made sure not to go far. He rubbed his nose against mine and kissed my forehead.

“I didn’t know if I’d be able to do that again,” he said, his sweet breath tickling my nose. “You have no idea how excruciating not being able to was.” Before I could reply he kissed me again. It was just as soft as the first one but shorter. He moved back to rest his head on the pillow, staring at me with an intensity that I hadn’t seen before. I molded myself against him, recognizing the perfect, puzzle-piece feel of it.

“You’d be surprised,” I replied, meeting his gaze. I reached up and ran my thumb over his tear streaked cheeks. It was not the first time I’d seen him allow himself to give in to his emotions like that but every time, I felt like the sun would never shine again. It just wasn’t right, even if it was for good reasons.

“Times up Miss. He needs to get some sleep.”

Draco’s hold tightened, almost crushing me against his chest.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered, his voice holding that same panic I had heard in the corridor. It was foreign, a tone he had never used with me or ever needed to for that matter and sounded considerable like a small child. He would probably deny it later, hating sounding weak for any reason.

“I won’t, I promise,” I said and his grasp loosened up but only slightly, as if still skeptical of my vow.

“Miss, he needs his-”

“I’m not leaving him,” I snapped, cutting the healer off mid-sentence. I recognized the man from before, the one who had allowed me the time with Draco, and it froze me before I could start to glare. He was smiling again and held up his hands in a mock defense before nodding.

“Just tell anyone that bothers you that Henry Lockman gave you permission to stay.”

“Thank you sir,” Draco said, beating me to it. The man inclined his head slightly before pulling out his wand again. Another muttered spell floated past his stubble surrounded lips and Draco’s body slowly began to relax again beneath me. Before I could voice my own thanks, the healer was out of the room.

“I love you Ginny.”

Draco’s tired voice brought my gaze back to his face.

“I just wanted to tell you that before I fell asleep,” he said, his eyes already closed. His breathing began to get deeper and his arms settled into a comfortable position.

“I love you too Draco and it’s been driving me mad.” A small tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Never do that to me again okay?”

“Mhmm…Don’t…Don’t leave me…”

“I’m not going anywhere. But Draco?”

“Mm?”

“I’m sorry that I tried to kill our baby.”

He was asleep before I said ‘kill’…

Author’s note: Sorry for not getting this chapter up right away. Had an assignment that was squashing all my creative energy, definitely not cool. But I am sorry if this one doesn’t flow as well as the others, I’m still working on recovering. I hope you enjoy it and remember that reviewing is good for the soul, or at least mine anyways…J

11. Chapter Eleven

Just lying there shouldn’t have been that hard.

It was only a few hours or so before the glow of happiness that surrounded the man holding me lost its shine and I was thrown back into the pit of darkened doubt. And, as usual, Draco never moved. I envied him for this ability. The difficultly contained need to roll onto my back at the very least was relentless but his grasp was just as secure and iron like as it had been before he had fallen asleep. It was almost agonizing.

Don’t get me wrong. I was still hopelessly relieved that he was home and only slightly injured. The love of my life had finally come back to me and loved the life growing within me. The look on his face, that awe inspiring affection as he gently ran his fingers over our still undeveloped child, was what forced me to keep my promise. He still loved me. He wanted our child. He had only one request, and it hadn’t been the one I had imagined. I would stay until he woke up again and that look was what was helping me through the small eternity.

But my promise was also keeping me from seeing my brother. Ron was in the hospital somewhere, dying, and I couldn’t go to him. It made me wish that I had one of those telly-fones dad was always on about. He used to bring them home and pull them apart before forgetting how they should be put together. “Ingenious,” he used to say half way through his dissection, “those Muggles are. They can actually talk through these things and have some one miles away hear them and talk back. They don’t even need floo!”

I smiled slightly, remembering his excitement about the find. But with memory, in those troubled times, brought back all the pain and suffering we had already endured.

Dad, Percy, Bill, Charlie…

All of them were dead and Ron, as it sounded, was soon to join them. And I couldn’t go to him because my husband needed me. It was then that the ‘why’s started bubbling up from within that dark pit that I had sunken into. Why Ron? Why did it have to be him? Why did he have to go to war? Why did any of them have to go? Why did Draco have to go back?

The last was stifling. I suddenly felt as if I couldn’t breath, as if all the air that had not a moment before been flowing freely was ripped from my lung. My body began to shake violently as too many possibilities raced through my mind. One after another, they flew in circles in my thoughts, most ending gruesomely with my beloved Draco lying dead somewhere.

I clung to him, my arms moving of their own will to create a vice grip around what I could hold of Draco’s torso.

“He can’t leave me again! I won’t let him!” I shrieked. But the words did not make it to my lips. They were caught so that I heard them over and over again as if I had managed to speak them into the echoing room.

A coppery taste filled my mouth as a sharp pain seized my lower lip. I didn’t dare loosen my hold on Draco to investigate but what had happened wasn’t a mystery. In fact, it helped me understand my inability to scream. My nervous habit from childhood had been brought back to life though this time, I had almost bitten through my lip to keep quiet…

(***)

“Can I have some more?”

The boy was reaching up to me, a cup in his small, pale hands. I recognized his face, though it still carried the plumpness of four and a half year old. I recognized him because he was like an extremely young version of, well, me. A vague feeling that I should find this odd flitted across my mind before vanishing as the boy smiled at me.

“Please daddy?”

I felt a smile of my own spread on my lips and I reached out to take his cup. He frowned up at me but crawled into my lap as if he had been invited. I ran my hand through his mop of vividly red hair. Ah, there was the difference.

“You’ve had enough for tonight,” I say easily, as if it were second nature. “Besides, mummy would probably be very cross with me if I let you have anymore. She still remembers the last time I let you have too much cider before bed.”

“But its Christmas,” the boy pleaded. “Please daddy? I promise I won’t be like a…” His face screwed up for a moment, as if it pained him to think so hard, before he grinned widely. “Hyperactive bludger…”

I raised my eye brow at the boy, wondering where he had learned such a large word.

“Mummy says that when I get chocolate from Uncle Fred and Uncle George. Then she yells at them…”

“And I have every right to.”

I looked up and nearly went into shock. The boy in my lap began jabbering away about something to the woman who had just entered the room but I couldn’t pay attention. Unlike the boy, I recognized her instantly. But there was something different about her, a confidence, an air about her that I hadn’t seen before. She was smiling which made her, of possible, more beautiful. But it was that glow she carried that truly made me incapable of producing breath.

“Tristan,” she said, though her dazzling gaze remained on me. “You might want to tell your father to close him mouth before he swallows some sort of bug.”

The boy, Tristan, giggled as my eyes went wide and my lips came firmly together.

“Daddy,” he laughed, his head tilting to the side in a way that dragged my gaze away from my wife, Ginny. But the light in his eyes held my attention once it fell upon him. Though they had the same look, the same shape, the same colour as mine, Tristan’s eyes held Ginny’s depth and warmth.

“Come on then, off to bed with you,” Ginny laughed after a moment. The boy groaned and wrapped his small arms tightly around my neck.

“I want to stay up with daddy,” he complained.

“Oh, I see now,” Ginny said shortly but there was amusement in her voice. “I’m loved less because I gave birth to you, eh? If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have a daddy to cling to.”

Tristan instantly tightened his grip but looked over his shoulder to give his mother a horrified look. When he saw her grin though, he relaxed and gave an exasperated sigh. I almost laughed at how similar it was to my own.

“Of course I would have daddy,” he droned as if that explained everything.

The boy’s grip again tightened around me, but it was as if he had another set of arms. My chest felt tight, like I was being slowly crushed. I sucked in a breath.

“Daddy? What’s wrong daddy?”

“Draco, are you okay?”

The chair I was sitting in began to vibrate as the tightness got stronger. My breath came harder, shorter.

“Draco?”

“Daddy!”

My eyes flew open and I gasped for air. Something was strangling me.

“Ger-off-me!” I grunted while trying to fight away the wretched thing attached to me. It was small, definitely too small to have this sort of force. I tried to push it away but it gave a small shrieked, instantly jogging my memory back into working mode.

“Gin-you-strangle-me! Can’t-breath! Ginny!”

“I don’t want you to leave me again!” she screamed into my chest. “I don’t want Ron to die!”

“You-kill-me-if-don’t-let-go!”

Author’s note: Short, I know, but I needed to get something up and I am insanely stuck at the moment on this chapter. I hope you like it all the same.