A/N: Okay, my beta just left for a cruise through Alaska, so this is unbeta-ed, but I just finished it, (finally) so I thought I'd get it up. In more exciting news, I now have cable at home, so you should only get 1 alert!
CHAPTER 5 Death and Beginnings
Several days after they had celebrated the New Year, Draco found Ginny in the library, curled on a lounge chair, and a copy of a Muggle book called Stardust in her hand. Reading the book, she had the sneaking suspicion that the author was not a Muggle at all.
"What's that?" she asked as he sat in front of her. His expression was mournful, and he held a piece of parchment in his hand.
"I didn't have anything to do with this," he said finally.
"With what?" she demanded.
He didn't answer, but bowed his head.
"With what? Oh gods, what is it?"
He handed her the parchment, and she realized it was the front cover of the Daily Prophet.
Woman's Body Found, the caption screamed. Identified as Molly Weasley.
Ginny let out a strangled gasp and clapped her hand to her mouth.
Molly Weasley, wife of Minister official and Order member Arthur Weasley, who was reported missing last Wednesday, has been found. Her body was found in a dumpster in Knockturn Alley, showing relatively few signs of struggle.
Ginny couldn't read anymore. She dropped the paper to the floor and buried her face in her hands. After a few moments, she felt Draco's presence beside her and flinched slightly as he placed an arm across her back.
"I didn't know, Gin. I didn't."
For days, Ginny stayed in her room, sometimes sobbing, sometimes remembering. Draco stayed with her, feeding her and attempting to offer some sort of hollow comfort.
"Why would they do this?" she finally asked him. "Why my mum?"
Draco didn't answer.
"Why Draco?" she demanded. "You know! You're one of them!"
"Stop it, Ginny."
"You do! You know! Just tell me! Tell me that the rest of my family is dead!"
"Stop," he commanded, his voice winded and low.
"No! You know why! You're one of them!"
"Ginny-"
"Don't touch me!" she screamed, jerking his arm away from her. "I hate you!"
This time he didn't leave or punch the wall or shake her; instead he sat silently, his eyes focused on the telly. "I'm not leaving," he said after a long silence.
Ginny drew her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth. "Oh gods. No, no, no, no. Mummy, my mummy." She repeated her sobbing mantra until she had nearly lost her voice, crying for her mum.
Draco tucked her in as she fell asleep, and she whispered to him, "My mummy thought I was dead and now she is."
****
By the time the first flowers started to bloom on the trees outside her window, and Ginny traded out the heavy black velvet winter cloak Draco had given her for Christmas for the lighter green cloak, she didn't wake in the morning with a physical pain in her chest. She didn't burst into tears when she thought of her family. She remembered to eat and drink and bathe. But it wasn't the same.
If Draco had told her when he gave her the news clipping, that in time, the pain would fade and life would become bearable again, she would not have believed him. But it had.
It was still painful, it still hurt. She still cried, but it was different. She wanted to curse time for making her grow numb to the news of her own mum's death.
"How do you feel?" Draco asked, his eyebrows rising in surprise. She hadn't been present at the dinner table with him since he'd given her the clipping.
"Like a traitor," she muttered, sitting down heavily.
"What do you mean?" he asked carefully.
"Like I don't care about my family. Like it doesn't matter that my mother is dead!"
Draco remained silent.
"I'm not a bad person," she nearly shouted, causing the elf who brought her wine to flinch. "So why don't I feel bad?"
Draco didn't answer until he was sure she wanted an answer.
"Well? What's wrong with me?"
"You're not a bad person," he answered casually, as if discussing the weather. "You're just a person. Time changes things. You cannot possibly grieve forever. You'd die as well."
"But I should be! My mother is dead!" Tears glittered in her eyes, but they didn't fall.
"She is. And if you punish yourself, she still won't come back."
They finished the dinner in silence.
After, Draco had his elf bring them a light, sweet wine to the small, cozier drawing room. Ginny stared into space while Draco scanned the Prophet, and looked over his business papers. The silence was fine with him. The fire burning in the fireplace was unnecessary, but it gave the room a deceiving sense of warmth and family and coziness. He was just glad that Ginny was in here with him, not crying alone in her room.
The fire had burned low when he put away his paperwork and decided he was ready for bed. "You ready for bed, Gin?" he asked, noticing the now empty wine bottle beside her.
She shook her red head and mumbled, "I think I'll just sit here for a bit."
Draco extended his hand anyways. "I'll tuck you in."
Wobbly and unsure of herself, Ginny took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Bottle of wine aside, she didn't fail to notice his arm around her waist, and his hand still clasping hers as they climbed the stairs.
Instead of calling Sully to turn down the bed, Draco eased her onto her loveseat, and pulled the blankets down himself. Then he turned and pulled an emerald colored gown from her drawer.
Perhaps, she thought as Draco knelt before her and began to unfasten the clasps of her blouse, I should protest. But she didn't. It wasn't as if he'd seen her undressed before. And even though she knew she could refuse, she tried to tell herself that he had brought her here, and he could do whatever he wanted to her. But she knew he wouldn't. If she said stop, he would stop.
She let Draco undress her and help her into her gown, and then allowed him to slide into the bed next to her.
Ginny was almost asleep, curled against his warm, comforting body, when she heard him whisper.
"You're not a bad person," he whispered, kissing her cheek.
****
When she woke, he was gone, but the sun was already creeping high in the sky, and she knew he was at work. Ginny took a long hot bath, subconsciously trying to scrub her demons away, and Sully brought her breakfast to her there.
"Master say I is to take your measurements today," Sully informed her as she laid out Ginny's clothes.
"What for?" Ginny asked, scooping up bubbles in her hands and blowing them.
"I is to go to the seamstress for you. And I is bringing you a book so you can picks what you likes most." The elf laid a glossy catalog on the ledge of the tub.
Ginny felt what might have been a smile - if she hadn't of guiltily stopped it - creeping onto her lips as she picked up the book. Shopping. Almost a year of being locked away, and she still liked the idea of getting new clothes.
Oh gods, almost a year. She couldn't believe it.
"Sully?"
"Yes, missus?"
"What day is it?"
"Wednesday."
"And what month?"
Sully pursed her lips as if she wasn't going to tell. "April," she answered finally.
Ten months. Ten months ago I thought I was going to be killed or raped. Instead, I'm bathing like a princess, eating my breakfast in the bath, picking out new clothes and trying not to think about Draco. And my mother is dead.
The thought hurt.
But mum knows where I am now. She knows I'm safe. It was silly, but Ginny instinctively looked at the ceiling. I do love you mum. And really, it's not so bad here.
"Is you okay, missus?"
"I'm fine," Ginny smiled. "Better now, actually."
She leafed through the catalog until she had picked a new summer wardrobe, and then climbed out. "Sully?"
"Yes missus?"
"Will you ask the kitchen staff if we can have a nice dinner for Draco tonight?"
Sully gave her an odd look. "I will tells them."
"Thank you."
Ginny wandered around the Manor, exploring new rooms until she grew bored and plucked a book from the library and took it to the garden. She tired to read the book - interesting, really, a history of Muggle pirates - and tried to content herself with admiring the gardens, but she couldn't stop thinking about last night's kiss on the cheek.
Why did he kiss me? Did he really think I was asleep? And his arm, no it was my imagination. No, his arm was wrapped tightly around me. She dropped the book on the lounge and began to pace the garden. Why am I thinking about Draco? So what? He's the one who bloody kidnapped me! Technically, that means he can do whatever he wants to me.
Ginny was stretched out on the lounge, book opened across her chest, and allowing the sinking sun to soak into her face when Sully appeared.
"Missus, we haves your clothes now."
Ginny sat up. "Already?"
"Yes, missus. They is in your suite."
Ginny scrambled up and hurried up to her room. She threw the closet doors opened and found enough clothes to fill a store, hanging before her, all made especially for her. She tried several of them on, before settling on a rather low cut sapphire colored gown. Funny, she thought, as Sully fastened the hook and eye clasps that ran up the back, how I've gotten used to dressing up for dinner. With Draco. With the person who kidnapped me. She tried to feel some sort of resentment or anger, but she couldn't find any. How did this happen?
"We has prepared Master's favorite," Sully was saying, telling her the menu for dinner.
When Draco apparated home, Ginny couldn't help but notice the way his silver eyes became slightly warmer as he saw her.
Dinner was close to perfect, and just before she crawled into bed for the evening, she thanked Draco again for the clothes.
"It was nothing," he nodded dismissively. "Is there anything else you need or want?"
Ginny was suddenly overwhelmed with the unwelcomed feeling of being alone. She didn't want Draco to leave. What has happened to me? she wondered desperately. I'm supposed to hate him, not want him. "Can you stay in here?"
Draco didn't answer. Instead, his eyebrow raised ever so slightly.
"I mean," she faltered, "just until I fall asleep."
"And then you want me to leave?"
Ginny's torn and conflicted feelings erupted again and she searched through them, confused and unsure. "No," she said, finally. "Stay."
"Stay?"
She wished he would stop repeating what she said and just make up his own mind. He was supposed to be in charge here, not here! She nodded. "I don't want to be alone."
They lay wordlessly in Ginny's enormous bed, their eyes focused on the Muggle telly, but Ginny was keenly aware of Draco's presence next to her. It didn't help that he was wearing only his boxer shorts, and she was wearing a lilac colored silky gown he had given her.
"Are you working tomorrow?" she asked quietly.
Draco nodded and she found herself watching out of the corner of her eye, the way his pale hair fluttered against her pillows. "Why?" His eyes remained on the telly.
"Just wondering."
"Do you not like being alone then?"
"No. Not really."
"And you think I should stay here with you?"
"No. Of course not."
But he didn't go to work the next day or the next, and when she finally asked him about it, he simply said, "It was time for a holiday."
It was exactly one week after that Draco kissed her cheek again. This time Ginny rolled over in the bed to face him. Slowly, she brought her fingertips up to the spot his lips had been, searching his eyes, but not finding any answers.
She stretched her fingers out and carefully touched his lips. With her finger, she traced his lower lip back and forth, and then Draco kissed the tip of her finger.
Ginny drew her hand back and pressed the finger against her own lip, waiting for the remaining traces of his kiss to appear. Instead, Draco gently removed her hand and leaned closer, his lips brushing lightly across her own, once, twice, and then a third time before he drew back and closed his eyes.
The breath Ginny hadn't realized she was holding came out came out in little gasps. "Draco-"
"Sh, sh, sh," he whispered, his eyes still closed.
Ginny lay there in silence and Draco didn't open his eyes again. She let her own eyes fall shut only after she heard his soft, steady breathing, indicating he had fallen asleep.
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