A/N: It was hard to write this chapter, because I felt that I couldn't quite get across the ever changing emotions of Draco and Ginny. I hope you enjoy it anyways. Keep the warnings in mind as well. Thanks again for all the reviews.
CHAPTER 12
June faded into July, and July gave way to August. Ginny barely remembered that her birthday was in a few days, and could care less that she was about to be 18. Once, in another lifetime, she had looked forward to her 17th birthday, but it had come and gone, and it had been months before she'd even realized it. It would have been sad if she'd taken the time to think about it, that she no longer cherished any of the things she once did. Change was, of course, something inevitable, and yet she'd never imagined that things would change like this. Once upon another lifetime, when things had been centered around school and family and friends, when her life was colored with pastels, she would have cared that her birthday was coming, but not anymore.
Since Draco's birthday dinner, his mother had made a habit out of coming over for dinners and showing up unannounced during the daytime. It made Ginny nervous to no end to be around her, particularly when she was alone, because Ginny's mind was always warning her that Narcissa knew something was amiss.
"Honestly," Draco snorted when she finally dared to voice her concerns, "what could she possibly do about it?"
"Nothing, I guess," she answered quietly. "She just seems suspicious."
He narrowed his eyes. "Is this really what you want?"
"What?"
"This. Me. Living here."
"Yes. I already told you."
Draco nodded to himself. "Good."
Ginny began to nibble nervously at her thumbnail. "Draco?"
"Yes?"
"Since things are . . . different now, do you think . . . it would be wise to contact my family? Just so they stop, um, searching for me?"
His expression didn't change. "I brought you here to keep you safe. Obviously, in all the time that you have been here, you haven't figured that out yet. You have no idea what things that were planned for you, and carried out on your family. You have no idea what I have saved you from. You should thank the gods every night that you are not suffering the fate that was intended for you."
For a fleeting second, Ginny realized the truth: that she had become so determined to believe in Draco, she'd managed to start believing her own lies. She'd begun to believe that she was at Malfoy Manor of her own accord. Then the second passed. "What has happened to my family?"
Draco ignored her.
"Are they okay?"
"You know what happened," he finally snapped.
"Oh." Mum. "I'm sorry. You're right. I wasn't thinking."
The next two days were spent in chilly silence, until Draco mercifully broke the silence at the dinner table. "What do you want for your birthday?"
"My birthday?" she repeated, startled.
"You'll be 18 in a few days," he said dryly.
"I know. I didn't know that you did though."
He shrugged. "Like I'm going to let your birthday pass after what you did for me."
"It was nothing," she mumbled.
"What would you like?"
"I'm not sure," she admitted. "I have almost everything here."
"Well, think of something," he instructed her, "and let me know tomorrow at dinner."
Ginny mulled over it the following day, but could think of nothing. She had gorgeous clothes, more gems than she'd ever dreamed over, books everywhere, and the elves to tend to her every whim. The only thing she missed was her wand, but she wanted to ask for something she could have; the last thing she wanted was for Draco to be angry with her again.
"I have everything," she told him at dinner that night. "I can't think of a single thing that I would want."
"Somehow I assumed you would say that," he told her dryly, sipping from his wine glass. "So I came up with a few suggestions."
"Really?" She leaned forward. "What are they?"
"What about dinner and dancing?"
"Dinner and dancing?" she parroted.
He nodded, his expression amused. "I know a place in Milan-"
"Milan?"
"Yes."
"As in Italy?"
"Ginny."
"Sorry," she mumbled.
"They have a rooftop restaurant with an amazing dance floor."
"Dancing in Italy?"
"Do you not want to?" he asked, irritated.
"I'd love to." If she hadn't have been with him for so long, she wouldn't have noticed the small upturning corners of his mouth that signified a smile.
"Good. Then we'll go on Saturday."
Ginny leaned back in her chair and tried to digest his words. They were going out in public. In front of other people. She was going to interact with other humans. She was going to dance with Draco. Now all she had to do was make it through the week. "What should I wear?"
"I'll send Sully to a place I know tomorrow. She'll bring you a selection of things that are suitable," he told her, his silver eyes gleaming.
When Ginny woke the following morning, she stretched, and suddenly her stomach rolled. She jumped from the bed and ran for the loo, where she proceeded to retch away the remains of last night's dinner. She moaned into the empty room, and when she felt well enough to stand, rose to her feet and rinsed out her mouth and her face. She slunk back into Draco's room, grateful that he had already left for the day. Draco had seen her at her very worst - after she'd trashed her bedroom and been locked in the guest room with the Chinese Wedding bed - but she wasn't eager for him to see her sick.
She dozed again, and when she woke, she felt much better, so she went to her suite to see if Sully had returned with the clothes she was to choose from for Saturday. Inside her wardrobe hung several new outfits. The first was a black, shiny one shouldered dress that had an angled hem and a keyhole directly above her cleavage - far too tacky for her taste. The second was a two piece outfit, the black skirt probably no more than 7 inches in height and a matching tube top, both of which had laces up the sides to reveal even more skin. Absolutely not. The next was a dark green tube dress, with a large cut out across the hip area and a matching piece of material that Ginny supposed was to be wrapped around her arm. There was a pair of low denim trousers with the entire front of the leg, from hem to waist band, cut out held together with denim laces. There were things that claimed to be shorts, but were smaller than some of the undergarments Ginny wore.
Just when she thought she would have to call in Sully and beg her to find something else, she spotted the perfect dress. It was strapless and dark brown with deep green trim. It was made to be tight across the bust and then had a slight flair. The back of the dress stopped at her knees, but the slightly ruffled hem was jagged and the front angled up on thigh. And it fit like a dream.
She admired herself in the mirror for long enough to rightfully be called vain before carefully placing the dress back on its hanger and going downstairs to finally eat.
She settled on toast and potatoes, although she was sure Draco would have disapproved of her choice, and a nagging voice in the back of her mind was reminding her that if she ate all those starches, she wasn't going to fit into the amazing dress upstairs.
"Did you see some of the clothes that Sully brought home?" she asked him at dinner, even though he was bent over a stack of papers he'd brought home.
"Of course," he flashed a rare and wolfish grin. "I instructed her on exactly what to get."
She nodded, and took another bite, glad her appetite had returned.
"You picked the brown dress."
"How did you know?"
"I knew you'd never wear any of those other things out in public."
"Then why get them?" she asked curiously.
"I'd like to see you wear them privately."
"Oh would you?"
"I would."
"Maybe tonight then."
He glanced up. "I don't think I'll be here."
"Oh. Maybe later." Once again she hated the way her voice so plainly betrayed her emotions, practically laying them flat on the polished table for Draco to see.
He sighed and instructed an elf take the papers to his office. "My mother would be furious if she ever saw me working at the table."
"What do you do when you're out there?"
His silver eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"
"At night," she breathed, unsure where her sudden courage - or stupidity - had come from.
The world darkened as he spoke, his words sucking joy and light and peace from every molecule that surrounded them, and
yet Ginny could not stop listening. "I kill. Murder. Torture. Torment. Punish. I make people call for death, and I
refuse to give it to them. I bend the will of others to my bidding. I serve. I do what I am instructed without
hesitation, and for that, I am glorified among those who follow beside me. I am taking back what is mine, I am leading
a war, and I am winning."
Her stomach twisted with despair as his words surrounded her, breathless and able, not despairing, not tormented, the way she had wanted his darkest and most sinister secrets to be revealed. "Do you…" The two words rolled from her tongue before she could stop them, but then she snapped her mouth shut and said no more. She truly didn't want to know if he did anything else; if he participated in those vicious Death Eater games that were only spoken of in rumors and in secret. And then the thought occurred to her that Draco Malfoy, her savior, her protector, her captor, that he was a Death Eater, that he was a murderer.
"That is why you are here, Ginny. That is what your fate would have been if you stayed with your family." His eyes were dark and uncaring, the viciousness of his words emphasizing the pointy, cruelness of his face.
"Has that been my family's fate?" she dared to whisper.
He ignored her question and continued. "I have been favored with the Dark Lord. I have never let him down. And imagine, if the only Weasley girl was caught, what a reward she would have made."
Ginny stared into her plate, unable to eat, with heavy tears slipping down to the fine linen and wishing she had never asked. "Thank you then," she said, finding her voice somewhere in the darkness that was smothering her. "Thank you for all that you have done for me."
"I'll sleep alone tonight," Draco told her, rising from the table.
Ginny buried her face in her hands and cried, trying to escape the thick evil that was trying to wrap its uncaring arms around her.
She dreamed of Draco that night. She dreamed that she stood by and watched as he raped Muggles. She woke to the very first rays of the morning trying to filter into the dankness that had surrounded her, remembered her dream, and scrambled for the loo, removing what little contents were in her stomach.
When Ginny caught her breath, she rested her elbows on the loo and held her face in her hands, wishing she had a Time Turner so that she could undo the night before.
Draco came home late from work all that week and didn't speak to Ginny, so she sadly gave up on the idea of rooftop dancing in Italy. She could barely eat, and nearly always threw up what she'd managed to swallow, and she desperately wished that Draco would make peace with her again. She hated the way she was physically sick over him.
It was on Friday, when he came home unexpectedly for dinner, that he found Ginny in the library, crying.
"What's wrong?" Draco asked irritably.
"Nothing," she lied, quickly shaking her head. "I was just thinking. Are you home for dinner?"
"Don't fucking lie, Ginny," he snapped, ignoring her question.
"Sorry," she whispered. "I was just . . . thinking about school. This would be . . . I would have graduated this year."
He eyed her coolly. "No you wouldn't."
"Oh . . ." She was confused, but didn't dare ask.
"They closed the school."
"But, but they didn't last time, not when . . . Professor Dumbledore . . ." she trailed off, not daring to speak the words, not daring to remind him that he was the reason the professor was dead, not when it was the first time he'd spoken to her all week.
"The school was raided at the beginning of the year. Too many people died. Those who escaped were sent home and the school closed."
"Oh." The room was warm, but her skin prickled with the chill of his words. "Oh."
He held out one hand. "We're having fish and chips tonight."
"Fish and chips?" she repeated, allowing him to gently pull her from the settee.
"I distinctly remember you saying that it was your favorite meal."
Ginny nodded and forced a smile. She remembered him replying that fish and chips would never be served in Malfoy Manor. "Thank you." She hoped it would stay down.
It was almost funny to see such a casual meal served on such fine dinnerware, and almost funny to see Draco eat his with a knife and fork. Almost.
"I couldn't figure out what wine would go with our meal," he said casually. "It was strange. I've never had that problem before."
A true smile cracked Ginny's face. "I think it's beer."
"I was afraid of that."
"Thank you for this. Really."
He didn't answer.
"Will you be here . . . tonight?" she dared ask.
He looked up at her silently.
"I just thought I'd show you some of those outfits you bought."
His expression didn't change, but he nodded. "I will be here."
****
When Ginny woke, she was tucked comfortably beneath Draco's arm. Her extremely small skirt and top were still strewn on the floor, near Draco's clothes. She'd slept better than she had all week, but at the moment, the previous night's fish and chips wasn't settling so well. With all the speed she dared, she edged out from Draco's arm, crawled off the bed and then sped to his bathroom and carefully pushed the door shut behind her. She flipped the water on at the sink and then fell to her knees before the loo, just in time.
When it had passed, she rinsed her face, brushed her teeth, and crept back into the bedroom. Draco was still in the bed, but his eyes were open, staring at the ceiling.
"Good morning," she whispered, snuggling down beside him.
He kissed her forehead and wrapped one arm around her. "Happy birthday."
She was taken back for a moment, surprised that she had forgotten her own birthday. "Thank you."
Draco seemed in no hurry to move, and she was content to lie beside him, lazily drawing her fingertips over his body, feeling the line of every muscle and carefully avoiding the mark on his arm.
She could have stayed there all day, safe with him, warm with him, comfortable in the knowledge that she was here willingly, and that Draco would protect her from whatever evils were lurking outside the walls of the Manor. Draco himself may have been the evil, but as long as she was with him, she was safe.
Unable to coax each other out of bed, Draco had breakfast sent up. The elf who brought it was followed by two more elves, both bearing gifts.
She unwrapped her presents, finding jewelry and clothes and books, and lastly, in the smallest box, a framed photo. She gasped as she stared at it, knowing that it had once stood on the nightstand beside her bed at the Burrow. Her entire family stared out of the frame, waving frantically, the great pyramids of Egypt behind them. She glanced up at Draco, afraid to find out how he'd gotten a hold of the photo.
"No one was home," he said quietly.
Ginny nodded slowly, the claws on her heart releasing their grip.
"I thought you would want it."
"I do. Thank you." She bit her lower lip. "Thank you so much."
He nodded gruffly. "Now eat. No more shuffling your food around."
They spent the lay lounging around the Manor, much like they had done on his birthday, until he reminded Ginny that they needed to get ready for their night of dinner and dancing.
"Wear the new diamond earrings," Draco instructed. "They'll be perfect with that dress."
Ginny shimmied into her dress, her excitement growing. Her hormones raced at the thought of dancing with Draco, their bodies pressed together, clothed, but hot and insinuating.
As she strapped on her shoes, she thought of Italian food, and suddenly her stomach rolled. She raced for the bathroom and flung herself to the floor, wondering what was wrong with her. She couldn't stop thinking about food, even though the mere though was causing her continued retching.
When she was through, she stood wobbly to her feet and reached for her toothbrush.
"When were you going to tell me?" Draco's flat, cold voice sounded from behind her.
She glanced in the mirror to see him leaning against the door jam, barefoot and wearing only his trousers.
"I don't know what's wrong," she mumbled. "Mostly I feel fine, and then I just get sick."
He remained silent until she was finished brushing her teeth. "Is that why you're not eating?"
She nodded.
"When did this start?"
"At the beginning of the week. Sunday, I think."
Draco narrowed his eyes, pulled out his wand, and aimed it at her.
"What are you-" Ginny gasped.
Draco muttered words incoherent to her ears, and she glanced down to see a small light radiating from the front of her dress.
"What is this?"
Draco dropped to her settee and crossed his arms over his chest.
"What?" she nearly begged. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
"How thick can you be, Ginny?" he spat. "You're pregnant."
She stopped breathing. She was quite certain that all the air in the room evaporated and that the world stopped spinning. "I can't be."
"You are." His face was tightly drawn and she could clearly hear his angry breaths.
"But I, but I took that potion. I take it every week." She shook her hand frantically and stared down at her stomach. "I do!"
"I believe you," he mumbled.
"I'm just sick. That's all." Tears began to fall from her eyes. She could not be pregnant. After spending her entire life continually surrounded by more siblings than she could sometimes count, she had decided that children were out of the question.
He didn't speak for a long time, and the darkness and silence grew, but Ginny was afraid to draw more attention to herself as Draco remained perched on the edge of the couch, his face covered.
"So what will we do?" he asked, suddenly looking weary and tired.
Ginny could suddenly see the effects of his late nights spent doing those horrible things - the skin beneath his eyes was dark and hollow, and somehow he looked older, thinner, strained. His hair was obviously uncombed, and although no one else would have noticed it, Ginny realized that his trousers were unpressed. "What do you mean?"
"What do you want to do with it? With the child."
"I don't know," she croaked, sinking to the floor, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle. "I don't know what to do with children. I never wanted any. I'm too young to have children."
"Obviously not," he muttered.
"Draco, I'm sorry," she whispered, hating the way her voice cracked. "I didn't-"
"It's hardly your fault. Accidents happen. This just isn't a good time." He rubbed his forehead. "Do you want to keep it or abort it?"
She nodded and then whispered, "I couldn't . . . abort it. I couldn't do that."
Draco stared down at her impassively and suddenly Ginny wondered how it was possible that two people so different could even abide in the same household. She couldn't resolve her problem by getting rid of a child whose existence she had just learned about, while Draco murdered people nightly.
"Fine," he said tiredly. "That's fine. Then we're keeping it. Him. Her."
She looked up at him questioningly.
"No one else can raise the Malfoy heir," he informed her haughtily.
She nodded and stared back at her hands.
"We'll make this work."
"How?" she dared to ask. "I don't know anything about babies! I can't raise a kid!"
"Don't you have ten or so brothers?" he asked rudely.
"I was the youngest. I didn't have to look after anyone."
Ginny pulled her knees to her chest and rocked slightly, watching Draco from beneath her eyelids. He didn't seem particularly angry, only tired and broken. That scared her more than his anger did. For more than a year, Draco had controlled her life completely, and she was used to it. She liked it. She welcomed it.
"Come here." He reached out and picked up her wrist, pulling her towards him and sitting her in his lap, rocking her back and forth as the two of them sat in silence, absorbing the news that their world had just been changed.
"I'm tired," he said finally.
"Me too," she nodded. The room was now dark, but in the dim light from the moon, she could still see the fatigue in his eyes.
He stood to his feet and carried her to the bed, laying her gently down and kissing her forehead before going to her dresser and plucking a violet colored nightgown from the drawer. He handed it to her silently.
"Do you have to leave tonight?" she asked quietly as she slid the gown on.
"I don't know," he answered shortly.
"Oh."
"Look, I know this is hard for you." He ran one hand through his hair and seemed to sag under the weight of his thoughts.
"Are you going to sleep with me tonight?"
"Do you want me to?"
She nodded.
He undid his trousers and then slid beneath the bedcovers, his legs grazing hers.
The room was dark and quiet, but when Draco put his arms around her and pulled her close, Ginny knew that no matter what he had put her through, no matter how much she didn't understand why he did the things he did, she did love him.
"Draco?"
"Hmm," he mumbled drowsily.
She opened her mouth, and decided it was time to confess her deepest secret. "I love you."
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