Author's Notes: Much appreciation to gotsnape for her insightful injection of life into this chapter. Her generous assistance was sorely needed. -fallenwitch
Chapter 4
You're Nutters
Draco startled awake at the violent shove. He found himself flat on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Looking down, he saw Ginny scrambling awkwardly across the bed. What in the bloody name of Merlin was she doing? Was she delirious? Hell, she going to topple off the bed and hurt herself. Hauling his sleep-laden arse up, Draco made a spectacular grab for her, latching onto her hips and pinning her safely to the bed. She swung around, eyes wide with panic.
"Draco, the loo. Where's the loo?"
The loo? Good lord, was that an emergency? He nodded and helped her off the bed and across the room to the bathroom.
"It's right here," he said, flinging the door open.
Then he planted his feet and looked over at her for some sign of something. Did she need help in there? She rushed past him and slammed the door in his face, nearly cutting off the tip of his nose. Fine, that answered that question. She didn't need his bloody assistance.
Draco leaned against the wall and gratefully released the twisted bundle of pent up anxiety that had scraped his stomach raw over the past two days. Instead, he welcomed the wave of relief that rippled through his body, almost knocking him over with its blissful power.
Thirty-five interminable minutes later, Draco stopped pacing the floor of their bedroom and approached the bathroom door, concerned. It didn't take that long for any creature on the face of the earth to use the loo. What was going on in there? Was she alright? Had she gotten dizzy and collapsed? She had been pale and unsteady on her feet when she went in there, but then again, that didn't stop her from slamming the door in his face. He knocked lightly.
"Ginny?"
No answer. He waited a few seconds and knocked again.
"Ginny, is everything okay?"
No answer.
Just as his hand touched the doorknob of the bathroom door, it swung open. Draco stood aside to let Ginny pass. She walked out with red eyes and evidence of hastily wiped tears still clinging to her blotchy face. His eyes followed her all the way across the room, until she climbed back into bed, pulled the covers up, and laid her head down on the pillow. Had she been sick? He knew about pregnant women throwing up.
Draco hesitated before cautiously approaching her bedside and kneeling down to speak to her. Her eyes were focused on her unfamiliar surrounding, ignoring the only other living being in the room, the elegant Death Eater himself.
"What's wrong, Ginny?" Her eyes never left their distant focus. When Draco put his hand on her shoulder, she glanced down at him briefly. "Is there anything I can do?"
She sighed and looked away. "Honestly, Draco, I think you've done enough already, don't you?"
The cool tone in her voice stung him. What the hell had he done? Not at damn thing, at least not yet. "What are you talking about?"
She ignored his question. "Where are we?"
"This place?" She nodded. "Don't worry. This is my cottage."
"I didn't know you had a cottage."
"We'll be safe here."
Her eyes widened at this. "Safe?"
"Yes, safe. There was nowhere else to bring you. It's veiled, warded, and unplottable. We can hide out here indefinitely if we need to."
Ginny sat up. "Is that what we're doing here, hiding?"
"Of course." What the hell was she so irked about?
"And then what? We can't stay here forever, not with the baby coming."
Her heated, indignant tone grated on him. "Merlin, Ginny, I don't know." He stood and raked an exasperated hand through his hair. Of course he didn't know how he was going to get them out of the incredible mess he had gotten them into. He was too goddamn busy worrying about her dying, pregnant arse to think about that. "Excuse me if I didn't plan for this particular contingency."
She was on her shaky feet at the dripping sarcasm in his voice. "What, exactly, does that mean?" she hissed, dark eyes flashing.
He stared right back at her with his infuriated eyes. What a bloody ungrateful witch. Whatever happened to the small amount of gratitude he expected for saving her adulterous, pregnant arse from every Death Eater in England?
"It means that I never thought I'd have to deal with a pregnant witch right now, that's what." Before he could blink, she struck him across the face, hard. When she moved to strike him a second time, his swift reflexes immobilized her wrist in his grasp. He shook his head. She struggled against his iron grip, trying to free her wrist from the crushing lock he had on her. "Don't do that again," he warned.
Ginny stared at him, startled at the foreign edge to his voice and the excruciating pain he was causing her. Her knees began to buckle under. Was he breaking every bone in her wrist? She nodded in agreement, and he mercifully released her. Then she snatched her hand back, straightened, and massaged her bruised wrist while glaring at him. Did she see a flicker of regret in his eyes? Arsehole. She spun around.
"Ginny, please - "
While her back blocked his view, she grabbed the nearest object, a brass bookend, with her uninjured hand. Whirling around, she hauled off and threw it at him as hard as she could, hoping to knock the bastard unconscious. She was fast, but he was faster. Not only did he deftly dodge the bookend, but he also had the business end of his wand in her stunned face before she could exhale.
"Are you completely mad, woman?" She was rabid and raving and completely nutters, attacking him like this. What the hell was wrong with her? It wasn't his goddamn fault. He didn't order the bloody attack on her camp just so he could experience the joy of kidnapping her during what was left of his newly shortened lifespan.
Ginny knocked his wand aside with one swipe of her furious hand and stuck her finger in his face. "Don't you even start that nonsense with me, Draco." She was seething mad, so angry she could barely get out a coherent word to his arrogant, unfeeling face. "Put that ruddy wand away before I snap it in half."
He raised an eyebrow at this but tucked his wand away in his robes, admiring her Gryffindor courage. There wasn't another witch in England who would dare do that to his Death Eating face.
"Stop being such a bloody git." She shoved him back with her uninjured hand. He didn't react or even attempt to deflect her crazy antics this time. "This baby is as much your responsibility as mine." Then she folded her arms across her chest and glared at his look of callous incredulity.
"Mine?"
"Yes, yours. My parents, not to mention my brothers, are going to kill us, but they're going to kill you first."
Draco leaned forward and stared at her. "You're nutters."
Ginny swung around and began rifling through the room, throwing objects here and there, looking for her clothes. Making contact with her things, she pulled on her boots, threw on her cloak, and grabbed her wand. She wasn't going to put up with his Malfoy bullshit. She might be pregnant, but that didn't make her a doormat.
"Expelliarmus!"
Her wand flew out of her hand. One swift summoning charm later, and the Slytherin held it in his sure hands. Ginny placed an irritated hand on her hip as she glared at his childish antics.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He hissed, furious beyond belief.
"Leaving."
Over his dead and rotting corpse. The Slytherin had just slit his own throat to save the ungrateful hag, and she was about to go and commit suicide. He strode across the room, grabbed her by the arm, and jerked her flush against him before glowering down her unreasonable throat.
"Are you out of your goddamn mind?"
She stuck her defiant chin up in the air. "You're calling me nutters? Weren't you the one who told me that we didn't need the anti-conception potion? That the anti-pregnancy charm was protective enough? Well, I guess you were wrong, weren't you? If you're not wizard enough to take responsibility for the child that you fathered, then I'm leaving."
Draco nearly fell out of his robes.
"Ginny," he loosened his hold on her arm, lowered his voice, and stared at her, "I didn't father your child." She looked up at him, shocked and hurt.
"How can you say that? Of course you did. You know that I've never been with anyone else." Was she serious? "If you don't want to be involved with your own child, fine. I'm leaving and don't bother owling me later." She yanked her arm hard, attempting to break his hold on her.
"Wait a bloody minute, Ginny." He did not release her. "Of course I want to be involved with my child. You know that. But that child isn't mine. How could it be? I haven't been with you in over two and a half years."
She looked at him and laughed, laughed right into his heartless, sadistic face. It felt horrible, awful. She wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. She wanted to die right then and there, in his miserable cottage, hidden away from the world in a cloud of Malfoy shame. When he merely raised a concerned eyebrow at her, her laughter fell away into an uncomfortable silence. The longer she stared at him, the more unsettled her stomach became.
"What are you talking about? We've been shagging each other for months, and you know it." Her brave facade began to crack when he shook his head at her. Where was the malice in his voice, the deception in his face, and the pushing her away from his heart? There was none. She knew the Slytherin well enough to know when he was speaking the truth. "I don't understand," she whispered, going limp in his hands.
"We've been at war for the past two and a half years."
"War?"
"The Dark Lord and the Order. You've been living at the campground for the Order, remember?" She shook her head and heard him let out an exasperated sigh. "Merlin." He took her into both his hands and stared at her. "Ginny, you've been living at that camp for two and a half years with hundreds of children and older witches and wizards. Do you remember any of it?"
She shook her head.
"Do you remember being knocked unconscious when the camp was attacked?"
Ginny shook her head again, watching the devastation fall over his face as question after question fell from his mouth.
When his words began to sink into her incredibly thick, amnestic skull, she got a horrible feeling in the pit of her precarious stomach. Was she going to be sick? Ginny reached out and held onto Draco's outstretched arms. The bitter taste of bile was tugging at the back of her throat, and she began to feel dizzy.
"Draco," she whispered, now unable to look him in the eye. Instead, she stared at the point where the front of his robes made contact with his throat. "If you're not the father of this baby, then who is?"
His soft, pale grey eyes were on her as he shook his head. "I don't know, Ginny."
Draco watched as Ginny fell into a dead faint in his arms. He sighed and, for the second time in as many days, picked up his pregnant fallen witch and placed her back in his bed. Then he stared at her, as vulnerable as he'd ever known her to be, awash in his sheets, pale and confused, and fighting him every bloody step of the way.
"Goddamn it, Ginny," he muttered before collapsing into the luxury of the chair beside her bed.
Author's Notes: Still here? Thanks for reading. - fallenwitch
-->