Ginny sits on the floor of the now unused Divination room, wondering why she lets herself fall for guys like this. First it was Harry, who would only pay attention to her when he thought his life was falling apart and wanted to get away from it all. He would meet her in the darkness of the fifth floor corridor at night and want to snog in the corner, and she would let him, until she realized it wasn't going anywhere. Then there was Sirius. She nearly shudders at that memory. Poor Sirius, locked up in that depressing house on Grimmauld Place, treated like a prisoner. Again. He never tried anything more than a few kisses but the sad hungry way he looked at her cleared her head of all rational thought.
And now. Now, there is Draco. His thin, long body stretched across the maroon carpet in front of her. His eyes are on his potions book and his fingers are gently running across Ginny's outer thigh. The way she feels about him is different than the way she feels about Harry. Harry was famous. Harry was someone she could look up to. But Harry was so serious and had the weight of the wizarding world - literally - on his shoulders. Sirius was older, an exciting secret, and dangerous and mysterious. And now gone. And Draco, Draco is something completely different.
Draco wants to possess her. At first, she thought that the secret thrill of meeting Draco after Quidditch was from the danger, the forbiddeness. The fact that he hated Harry. The fact that his father was a known Death Eater, had even tried to kill her once before. And probably would try again, she thinks dryly, if he knew what his son was doing right now. It became not good enough to make Harry, Ron, and even Hermione upset and jealous. Now, Draco wanted to control her, possess her, dominate her in every way possible.
"You-are-mine," he had growled in her ear one night, punctuating each word with a thrust.
And it isn't that she doesn't enjoy it, because she does. She finds herself completely smitten with him, his blond hair that dangles into his silver eyes, his pale skin, that smirk, everything. But, her family will kill her when they find out. Draco is determined to tell his parents during the Holiday. Just another way of making me exclusively his, she thinks with a smile. Ginny wants to avoid the torture for as long as possible.
"You love me, right Gin?" he had asked, making her name sound exotic and sexy.
"Of course I do," she had answered, narrowing her eyes. "Why do you have to ask?"
"Because I'm not going to hide anymore. It's bloody fine by me if the whole world knows about us."
But she doesn't quite believe him.
Neither Harry nor Ron had spoken to her since Dracoe had kissed her lips in the Great Hall during breakfast. Not that it's necessarily such a bad thing to be getting the silent treatment from them.
She watches Draco pour over the book in front of him, studying for his N.E.W.T.s, and is thankful she doesn't have to worry too much about them yet. His bottom lip pokes out in the most suckable way as he studies, and she finds herself aroused.
What about a nice guy? she asks herself. Someone who is predictable and reliable. Someone your family would like. Michael Corner had been nice. Given her chocolates for Valentines Day - Draco had given her chocolates too, chocolate body paint. Michael kissed her goodnight, never tried to get her in his bed, and had been as boring as the day was long. Draco caught her at all hours of the day and night, dragging her into closets, bathrooms, and sneaking into her bed, making sure her day was never, ever boring. He tied her up, sent her flowers, dared her to shag him in public places, where they knew they could get caught at any second, leaving her exhausted and spent, then demanding more the next day. She has no time for anyone but him now. He keeps her busy. At first, her friends complained. Zoë and Bianca and Colin all telling her that it wasn't healthy the way she spends every single moment with him. But that's what he wants. And she wants him, so she gives in.
Ginny stretches herself out along Draco's back and kisses his ear.
"What are you doing?" he demands. "I can't breathe."
"Do you think I'm fat, then?"
"Hardly," he snorts, quickly rolling over and maneuvering himself on top of her.
She kisses him again, taking that lip into her own mouth, and hoping it's painful. His intake of breath tells her it is.
"You're still mine," he tells her, pulling away and clamping down on her ear. "Mine. Always mine."
She spreads her legs wider, and with one thrust, he is inside of her. His strokes are powerful and quick and within minutes she feels a warmth rising from her thighs and spreading to her stomach and back, her limbs tingling.
Draco groans and pushes harder, until she is sure he is deeper inside her than he has ever been.
"More," she begs. "Harder."
He obliges and Ginny feels a second orgasm building on top of her first one, and as the delicious shock waves rip through her, she feels Draco release himself inside of her and collapse on her chest, panting and sweating.
When he catches her breath, he bites down on her lip and hisses again, "Mine."
She may be his for the moment, but she isn't quite sure what is going to happen when she spills her secret to him, so she keeps it to herself. He'd made it quite clear when they'd started sleeping together that she was to take her birth control potion regularly.
"There will be no accidents," he'd commanded. "No messy consequences."
But accidents are bound to happen.
Perhaps Draco just seemed like a good way to get back at her family. At Ron for being so bloody overprotective. At Harry for not paying her enough attention when she was mad about him. At her mum for insisting with a red face that witches must remain virtuous until their wedding night, end of discussion. At the whole world for considering her as nothing more than the youngest Weasley.
Draco may have been controlling and possessive and jealous and demanding and nearly mean, but he was hers. He had given her a bracelet several weeks ago, and only after she had put it on did he tell her it had a tracking charm in it and a permanent fastening charm. Not that she cared. She wouldn't go anywhere without him knowing anyways.
Occasionally, somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice would rise up and whisper that things weren't right. That this relationship was dangerous and she needed to get out. But she didn't. She couldn't, even if she had wanted to. From the moment Draco had gotten her alone inside that cow Umbridge's office two years before, she was addicted to him. Sure, she had told Ron she was interested in Dean, but she couldn't very well tell him that she liked Draco, could she? She'd left the compartment shortly after that, only to find that Draco and his stupid bodyguards had been hexed to oblivion. So she unhexed Draco. And crawled into the back of the luggage compartment and that was that.
Truthfully, she hadn't known what she was agreeing to when she said she'd wear his ring. It was full of old magic he warned her, and she would be his forever, or at least until he decided to take it back. So really, even if she had wanted to leave, she couldn't.
And I don't want to, Ginny thinks, watching Draco who has again gone back to his homework.
She can never fancy anyone else, never kiss anyone else, never even think someone else was attractive. Not that I want to. But what other magic is in there?
It doesn't matter.
She feels safes with Draco. He gives her a welcomed sense of security, in a world that is not stable. The war is
still raging, and things are not right. Of course, her false sense of security isn't right either. Deep inside, she
knows that Draco really won't tell his parents. That when he graduates this summer, the Dark Mark will be imprinted
on his forearm. So, she takes a deep breath.
"Draco, I'm pregnant."
He doesn't even stop writing. He dips his quill in the ink and keeps on. "Why am I not surprised?"
"I took the potion every day."
Finally he puts down the damned quill and sits up. "Did you know I was going to take back my ring at graduation?"
She suspects that she did know, but it hurts to hear the words fall acidicly from his perfect lips. "No telling your parents?"
"No."
"I'm sorry." And she is, even though she knows the fault does not lie with her alone.
"No matter now."
She remembers what he had told her before she gave her virginity to him. If there is an accident, which there will not be, you will tell me immediately so I can correct the situation. As if it was a simple arithmancy problem, easily fixable and forgettable. She hugs her arms across her chest.
"How far?" he demands.
"Two months."
"Two?"
She nods.
"I'll arrange for my mother to contact a Healer. If it's a male, I'll discuss it with my father."
*****
Ginny sits in the common room Sunday night and watches sadly as her brother talks quietly with Harry. Things are getting worse. Harry has dreams and nightmares that cannot be explained, only attributed to Voldemort. The weekend had been a Hogsmead weekend, and Draco had arranged a secret meeting with a Healer, and to her dismay, the Healer coldly confirmed the baby's gender as male. She is disappointed. If it had been female, she is certain Draco would have insisted on an abortion, and she wouldn't be in this mess. Of course, then, Draco would simply take back his ring and forget about her, although something inside tells her she would never forget about him. No, not even in a thousand life times.
She is petrified that with the ring and bracelet, Draco will find out, but not knowing what else to do, Ginny turns to Hermione.
The two girls go to the Prefects bathroom and Ginny spills the entire story.
Hermione is horrified, and tries to remove the ring and bracelet. "How could he do this?" she hisses, when she confirms that they will not come off, but tugging viciously on the jewelry until Ginny cries out in pain.
"I let him," Ginny admits, tears rolling down her face.
"But why? Why him?"
"I don't know. I know he cares about me in some sort of Draco Malfoy way, and I thought he was exciting. When we were on the train that summer, he was different. Just for a moment I saw a part of him I'd never seen. I know you'll think I'm too young for this," she sighs, "I think so too, but I feel a connection with him. There's something there. He told me that the darkness was rising, told me to be safe. I feel safe with him."
"He is the darkness," Hermione snaps rudely. Then she shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to yell at you."
"Can you undo the ring?"
Slowly Hermione shakes her head. "No. Only Malfoy."
"What am I going to do?" Ginny bites her lower lip.
"What do you think he'll want?"
"I don't know. An heir maybe."
"Is Draco a Death Eater?"
"No."
"No?"
Ginny sighs. "Not yet."
Hermione looks as if she is on the verge of tears. Her next words are no comfort. "Oh gods Ginny. What have you gotten yourself into?"
*****
Ginny goes home with Draco for the Holidays, not even bothering to tell her mum and dad. They'll assume she stayed at the school with Ron, and she doubts Ron will even notice. Malfoy Manor is huge and scary and intimidating. On purpose, she imagines.
Draco has barely spoken to her since she broke the news. He still expects her to be there, to study by his side, to eat her meals with him, to watch his Quidditch practices. He doesn't seem angry, no, not really, but he doesn't speak.
Unceremoniously, he dumps her trunk on a house elf, instructing it to take it to her suite. Those words unnerve Ginny even more. Her suite?
He must sense her fear, her trembling, as he leads her to his father's study, for he picks up her hand and squeezes it, and then stops to face her.
"You do love me, right?"
The same question he always asks. He never says it, never comes out and says "I love you" but asks if she loves him.
"I do."
"Good. Then you'll do fine."
They sit in front of his father's desk, and Lucius looks at her, silently judging, and she remembers the man who nearly caused her death in her first year. "So you are pregnant," he states finally.
"Yes sir," Ginny answered, her attempt to steady her voice pathetic.
"And it has been confirmed as a male?"
"Yes sir."
He focuses on Draco. "The heir cannot be a bastard."
"Yes sir, I am aware of this."
"It must be before the half way mark."
"Yes sir."
Ginny doesn't like their words.
"When will that be?" Lucius asks.
"The middle of February, the Healer said," Draco answers.
"And tell me again . . . how long have the two of you been . . . together." The last word is spit out as if it is foul.
"Long enough," Draco responds firmly.
"Then we can spread the word that the marriage took place last summer," he states, effectively dismissing them.
Ginny follows Draco in numb disbelief as he shows her to her suites. "They adjoin mine."
"I can't get married," she finally whispers.
"You will. Tonight."
Tears spring to her eyes. "But I'm not 17. I can't. My parents won't let me!"
"If you are pregnant," he states coldly, "you only have to be 15. Besides, in France, wizards have no age restrictions on marriage. We'll say we eloped there." He leaves her alone with her thoughts and she begins to sob. Draco's mother enters the room and glances her over, her face cold as stone, but her eyes glow sympathetic.
"Here," she says. "This is the best I can do on such short notice."
She is holding a long white robe, intricately detailed with silver threads. "It was mine."
Ginny doesn't bother to quell her tears as she looks at it. "It's beautiful," she says in a small voice. "Thank you."
Narcissa gracefully sits down on the edge of the bed and hands Ginny a beautiful handkerchief. "You poor girl," she says finally.
The ceremony is in the Malfoy's formal parlor, next to the Christmas tree. The tree is huge and full of glittering fairy lights. It is cheerful and festive and joyous and everything that Ginny should be on her wedding, but is not. Ginny cannot even smile. She says "I do" for fear that Lucius will hex her to oblivion if she does not. Narcissa watches with seeming disinterest and when it is over, she retires to her rooms, and again, Ginny thinks she sees sympathy in those ice colored eyes.
Ginny cries herself to sleep, thinking what a shame it is, as it's her wedding night. She is scared and afraid, alone in this huge, horrible house. She is woken by Draco crawling into her bed.
"Don't cry," he whispers, his voice kind.
She doesn't answer.
"I know this is hard. But it's for the best."
"Why couldn't I even tell my mum?" she finally asks.
"It had to get done," he answers after a long silence.
"Why could you keep a boy but not a girl?" She has to know.
He pauses. "The first male created is the heir," he tells her. "If it had been terminated, there would never be an heir."
"An heir," she spits out the word. "So effing what?"
He moves to stroke her hair. "You'll understand one of these days. But you're safe here. Remember that. When the darkness rises across all of us, remember that you will be safe here."
He says no more, but kisses her slowly and gently, and then carefully removes her nightclothes. There is no real foreplay, but his lips caress her body, soothing her soul, and drinking her in. When he enters her, he is unhurried and focuses on her pleasure. He brings her to climax twice before giving in to his own release, and as she drifts again to sleep, this time comfortable and secure, she marvels that he had never touched her quite so tenderly before.
"I love you," she hears him whisper as sleep captures her body.
When she wakes up, she is alone.
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