Author's Notes:
1) Yes, Ginny has amnesia. Her memory stops sometime before the War when she and Draco were still in the midst of their relationship, which is why she woke up assuming he was the father of her child. She is amnestic for the duration of the War so far, including how she became pregnant and the identity of the father of her child. Draco is devastated and angry became she gave him a vow to wait for him until the War was over. Does that help any of the confused out there?
2) Am I starting to hear the beginnings of this fic crashing and burning? Oh, well, our story continues for now... -fallenwitch
Chapter 5
Stop It, Draco
"Stop it, Draco."
"Stop what?"
"Stop looking at me in that tone of voice." What? How the hell did she know he was glaring at her? Did the witch have eyes in the back of her head, Mad-Eye Moody style? "I didn't start the War. I didn't attack the camp. And I didn't ask you to rescue me, or have you forgotten that?"
Goddamn it. What an ungrateful witch.
"I never said I wasn't grateful because I am. But there's no need to glare at me. You can beat me, kick me, and hex me into next week, and I still won't remember where this baby came from, alright?" Then she closed her book with a snap, turned around, and caught Draco glaring at her. She raised a delicate eyebrow back at him.
Without a word, Draco marched upstairs and slammed the door to his claustrophobic cell shut. They had struggled through five tension-filled days together, barely tolerating each other. Or was it just him?
The sight of her was pushing Draco over his last irritable edge, until he felt like he was going mad, consumed by his seething pit of anger and outrage and, yes, jealousy. What wizard had wooed her and stolen her heart, leaving his undeniable calling card behind? Draco wanted to grab her fucking throat and throttle her. Either that or take her into his aching arms and shake them both wake from their mutual, miserable screw up of a never-ending nightmare. It was a folie à deux of unbelievable proportions.
Those blasted wizards in the Order. There was only one wizard he couldn't kill, at least not until the War was over and the Dark Lord was dead. After that, Potter was every bit as much fair game as the rest of those scumbags.
Potter? Draco had this sinking feeling in the pit of his pureblooded stomach that that four-eyed freak of a Gryffindor Seeker had bested him again. No, he couldn't think about it now, so he kept pushing the unreasonable beast of a notion to the back of his mind where it refused to stay put. Of course he knew, everyone knew, that Ginny had been besotted with Potter for years, and that the Wonder Boy finally took to noticing her in his sixth year.
They dated for a period of time before Draco came along and stole her away. Then the bloody War started. Had her relationship with Potter rekindled and grown into something more over the past two and a half years? Draco ran a frustrated hand over his disgusted face and groaned. Any wizard but that freak of a wizard.
The thought of his Ginny carrying Potter's child was more than he could tolerate. He was going to be sick. Yes, he was going to puke his guts out all over his prison cell of a room. Was Potter going to haunt his Slytherin arse with a Potter junior somewhere in the known wizarding world with Ginny as its mother? Merlin, it was a sick fucking world out there.
Draco threw his infuriated body down on the bed and began staring at the ceiling of his room, the claustrophobic one he had been banished to when Ginny took over his room downstairs. It was a glorified broom closet was what it was. He had hastily enlarged it into a room when Ginny regained consciousness, and he was forced to give up the luxury of the chair beside her bed.
No, he didn't have the heart to kick the pregnant wench out of his room as he ruddy well should have. Would you? So he suffered in relative Malfoy silence. Glancing over at his wand, Draco summoned one of his spell books.
Where were those bloody house-elves when you needed one? He flipped through the dusty tomb until he hit upon the desired page. His elegant finger stopped mid-page. After reading the directions twice, he sat up, took his wand in hand, and pointed it dead center at the wall next to him.
Then he grumpily spat out the incantation.
A stinging blast of frozen winter air exploded into the place, toppling the surprised wizard backward as an enormous gaping hole opened up, blowing the contents of his room around.
"Shit!"
The Slytherin was on his hands and knees looking for his wand, which had been blown out of his unexpecting hand. The wind wasn't helping things. Where the hell was it?
"Draco! Draco, are you all right?" She was pounding on his door, but he couldn't hear a thing. It was too damn noisy what with the wind and his own internal cursing.
By the time she had worked up enough strength to open the heavy wooden door against the torrential blowing wind, he was gone from her sight, on the other side of the bed searching for his wand. She ran inside, pummeled by the frigid night air, and saw only the huge hole in the wall.
"Draco? Draco!" Ginny stood, yelling out of the Hagrid-sized hole with one small hand tenuously anchoring her to the wall. The wind and the cold ripped at her, sending her crimson silk and robes streaming backward. "Draco!"
By the time he saw her, she was halfway out the hole, looking frantically for him. The Slytherin dove for his pregnant package of red silk and freckles, wrapped his arms around her considerable waist, and wrestled her gently to the ground, away from the goddamn hole.
"What the hell are you doing?" he shouted, furious. She looked at him and shook her head, one hand to her ear. "WHAT - THE - HELL - ARE - YOU - DOING?" The added decibels did nothing for her hearing. He grabbed her wand.
"Finite!"
Complete silence blanketed the small room as the hole in the wall sealed itself.
"WHAT?" she yelled, startled by the sound of her voice echoing off the walls.
He sighed. "I said, 'What the hell are you doing?'" He had one infernal eyebrow raised at her.
"Saving you."
"Do I look like I need saving?"
She eyed him from the top of his tousled platinum locks to bottom of his glorious boots. "Yes."
Draco snorted before issuing a summoning charm. His long lost wand flew into his impatient hands. "If I need your help, I'll let you know." She nodded before taking her wand from him. Then he untangled himself from her, muttering loud enough for her to hear, "The last thing I need is for you to fall out of that damn hole."
He picked himself up before offering her a hand. She brushed his hand aside and pulled herself up, using his bed as leverage. When he turned around, Draco saw the total havoc he had wrecked upon his miserable room. In the middle of the disaster was his shredded spell book. He picked it up.
"Reparo."
He shot her a nasty glance. "I'm capable of repairing my own book, thanks."
Ignoring his inflammatory remarks and irritated tone, Ginny casually strolled about throwing cleaning and straightening spells as she went. "What were you trying to do?"
While his room was in a whirl, courtesy of the witch from Gryffindor, Draco sighed. "I was trying to put in a window."
She glanced back at him. "A window?"
"You know how claustrophobic I get. I enlarged this broom closet earlier in the week, and it needed a few windows. That's all."
"Oh."
Before he could turn his head, she had charmed three enormous windows into place, one on each empty wall.
"Where did you learn how to do that?"
She shrugged. "I don't know."
As he looked at the merciful windows, three sets of heavy curtains fell into place.
"I know how you hate the early morning sun," she said softly.
"Thanks," he mumbled.
She smiled. "You're welcome." Pause. "Draco?"
"Yes?"
"Can't we call some kind of a truce? If we're both going to be staying here indefinitely... "
He sighed. Was he capable of putting aside his jealousy and anger and enormous feelings of rejection? Not bloody likely. Malfoys were too genetically narcissistic to take this kind of emotional humiliation lying down.
Her gentle hand was on his face, drawing him into her spectacular world, her dark eyes beseeching his. Taking an unsteady breath, Draco shut his eyes. Having her this close was interfering with his ability to think straight, the way it always did.
When he felt her soft, incredibly warm lips on his cheek and her face touching his, he threw his arms around her and buried his face in the nape of her neck, drinking in her precious scent. Yes, the Slytherin had finally gone over the deep end, into that dangerous territory which didn't exist anymore. He was out of his mind with her. His desire to possess her, to own her, to have her belong to him and only him was overwhelming his senses and any sense he ever had.
His. His. His. Only she wasn't his anymore.
He had no hold on her. She now belonged to some other wizard in the most painful way possible, and it was tearing him apart. And no, four weeks wasn't enough time for him to adjust his heart or wrap his mind around her new situation. Here she was in his arms, and he was impotent. Too little, too late. He couldn't reclaim her love.
"Draco?"
He didn't want to hear her voice or see her pregnant belly or move from her arms. Why couldn't he expire right here and now? What a fantastic way to pass from one side of the veil to the other.
Her hands were cradling his head and her fingers were running through his silver blond locks. When he looked up, she placed whisper-light kisses on his face. He moaned as she attempted to comfort him in the way she always comforted him, and his heart exploded with a mixture of grief and pained relief.
When his pale grey eyes stared into hers and his hands reached out for her face, there was no resistance from her. He watched her dark eyes as his lips descended onto hers. The only hesitation was his as he softly brushed her baby soft lips with his, testing her waters. To his surprise, her willing lips met his and devoured his feeble attempt at contact with her searing, full-mouth kiss engulfing him.
Her magnificent crimson tresses were in his hands. Her heated body was pressing against his as he felt her back arch towards him and heard the faintest hint of a moan echo from her throat. Draco was in a free fall, dangerously slipping away from all the carefully placed checks and balances of their everyday existence. His hands were roaming in places they shouldn't, touching her in ways best left behind. He was lost in her splendor, incapable of stopping himself. And she wasn't asking him to stop. No, she was urging him on with each movement.
That's when he felt it, the firm, well-placed knee to his lower gut. Draco startled as he was struck again. The third ruddy knee bloody well did it. The baby's triple dose of stiff reality checks yanked the Slytherin out of his fragile fantasy and back into the harsh world he resented.
Draco stiffly withdrew from Ginny's arms and placed an unsteady hand on his forehead before turning away from her. What the hell was he doing, attempting to seduce some other wizard's pregnant witch? Merlin.
When he turned around again, she was gone. He didn't even hear her footsteps on the stairs. Draco rushed out in time to see her bedroom door close. He collapsed on the wooden staircase and leaned his pathetic head against the wall, shaking. It was one fucking disaster after another. How many more ways could he screw up before the end of the week?
Author's Note:
1) Folie à deux: A condition in which symptoms of a mental disorder, such as the same delusional beliefs or ideas, occur simultaneously in two individuals who share a close relationship or association.
2) Thanks for dropping by again! -fallenwitch
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