Chapter 25: Getting back in the game
May 1999
Malfoy Manor.
Ginny walked into the dining room that morning to find Leo Lestrange seated in front of where she usually sat, his feet dangling as he peered around. She debated stepping out and finding who had brought Bellatrix' son to her breakfast table, but he saw her before she made a decision, and a smile lit his face.
"Ginny!" he called, hopping off the ridiculously ornate chair and running to hug her. "Wow, you've gotten really big!"
Ginny gently ruffled his hair and smiled, feeling oddly torn in front of this little boy who reminded her so strongly of his mother, and of her own brothers when their ears still stuck out. He seemed to sense her melancholic weariness and stepped back, a childish glare now obscuring his face.
"Why haven't you come to see me?" he asked. "It's been at least two months. I missed you. Why didn't you come? Igor said it's because you never liked us and Lorelei punched him before I could."
Ginny acknowledged the rebuke, but smiled at the mention of Lorelei's feistiness, so much like her own had been once. Still, she didn't know how to respond.
"Is it true?" Leo asked, a hint of fear running through his heavily-lashed black eyes.
"Did you have breakfast yet?" Ginny asked, ushering him toward the table. "Because I'm starved, and so are my boys."
"I'm hungry too," Leo said, easily distracted. He climbed back on his chair as Ginny carefully sat down. "What are you going to call them?" he asked, picking up a croissant.
"Croissants?" she asked, clearly puzzled.
"No," Leo laughed, "the babies."
"Oh." She seemed thunderstruck. "I have no idea."
"Did you ask Draco?"
"No."
"You should. He'll be angry and sad if you don't, just like you are."
"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, buttering a toast.
"You didn't answer my question, you know," Leo said, smiling in a wicked way that reminded Ginny of Bellatrix. "Is what Igor said true?"
Ginny looked at him, startled by the vehemence of his question. Belatedly, she realized he was his parents' rightful child, and that though he didn't share their responsibility in the tragedy that had befallen her family, he definitely had inherited their determination and their cunning.
"No, it isn't. But…" She hesitated, and the look of intelligence he gave her urged her to go on. "Your mother did something unforgivable to me, and I'm having a hard time reconciling that with the fact that I like you so much."
"Oh," Leo said. He looked at his fingers, then back at Ginny. "Thank you for talking to me like I can understand."
"Of course. I've had to deal with being the baby too much not to appreciate how difficult that can be!"
They exchanged a look and both smiled. At that moment, it would have been difficult to determine who was the adult and who was the child, or whether they were either, or whether it even mattered, for they were both in need of understanding.
"How about Orion?" Leo suggested.
"After the constellation?" Ginny snickered, and spread some jam on her croissant. "There's no way I'm naming my kids after stars. You got the last, decent available name."
"It's a tradition, you know," Leo noted, grinning maliciously.
"Not if I have a say in it."
"They won't be happy…"
"Are they ever?" Ginny pointed out, scowling, and her knife drove through the tender, buttery flesh of the pastry.
"You should come back to the MCCD," Leo said, tactfully shifting gears. "A lot of us miss you, and… our magic works better when you help us."
"That's because I know you can use it perfectly well," she said, her face softening immediately.
"You believe in us."
"Yes, I believe in you," Ginny repeated, feeling suddenly so much affection for the little boy that she felt she might have been transferring her maternal love to him.
"Draco does too," Leo added knowingly. "Care, I mean."
Ginny groaned, willing all thoughts of a considerate Draco Malfoy away from her mind. Leo bit into his third croissant, which made his smile a bit soggy and all the more endearing.
"He's right, you know," came Izha's voice from the door. "You'll need to acknowledge it eventually."
She crossed the sunlit dining room, her sober dress contrasting with the cream walls, amber wood, and gold embroideries. Her step was smooth and elegant in a subtly dignified way, much like her hair- which, deployed like a raven's wing, always but casually dissimulated the mark on her cheek. She took a seat next to Ginny, who glared at her, then pushed a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice in front of her and Leo.
"It's good for you. Vitamin C and what not." The two pure-blooded wizards looked confused. "Muggle health. And you, Ginevra, also need to stop moping about, erring through the Manor at night, and playing staring contests with Narcissa."
"I don't want to hear this," Leo said, his mouth full.
"Close your mouth when you chew," Ginny said as Leo added., "I like Aunt Cissy."
"It's a bloody conspiracy," Ginny mumbled, rolling her eyes, but Izha could tell she was biting back a smile.
"You haven't seen Shehzin in a while, either," Izha observed.
"Or Lorelei. She said she's your cousin since you're a Weasley. I kind of figured. I like your hair like that, by the way."
"Aren't you a little charmer?"," Ginny said, laughing, although a feeling of guilt settled at the pit of her stomach. She had lied to Shehzin, neglected Lorelei, and now-a sharp pain brought her hand to her belly. "I can't believe it! Not even born and…"
"Already as jealous and demanding as their father," Izha filled in.
"Will you stop it?"
Leo looked on, amused, at the two women bickering. Their liveliness-even Izha's more reserved vitality- changed him from his sister's lethargy and the carelessness his parents generally treated him with. He poured Ginny a second glass of orange juice, which she emptied immediately.
"So should I contact Shehzin?" Izha asked, smiling. She hadn't seen Ginny so animated in days and was grateful to Narcissa for having called Leo over.
"Of course. Whether I'll be allowed to see her is another story…" Ginny added, frowning.
"Now, you're being silly," Izha snapped, and Ginny was surprised to see Leo nodding, which made her wonder how much of the situation he understood. "Draco will be happy to see that you're going back to your normal self."
Ginny rolled her eyes, and Izha shot her a dark look, so uncustomary of her that both women dissolved in laughter under Leo's attentive and curious gaze. He felt the mood changing, however, when Izha placed a frail branch, bearing three black orchid flowers, spotted with red, in front of the redhead. They didn't break eye contact, both their faces suddenly stern and unmoving.
"What is it?" Leo asked.
There was a silence. Izha raised an eyebrow, giving Ginny a pointed look.
"Persephone Orchid (1)."
"Oh." Leo appeared thoughtful. "I read about them. Love to death and unto death or something like that, right?"
"Yes, Leo," Ginny said softly, her voice cool and guarded. "Fitting, isn't it?" she added to Izha, although the dark-haired woman chose to ignore the unspoken reproach for bringing the topic up, once again.
"Narcissa gave it to Draco this morning," Izha informed them. "She said that even though Persephone had been coerced into marrying Hades, she eventually became his respectful and loving queen."
"Those are legends, and you know it," Ginny snapped, and Izha smirked in a way oddly reminiscent of her father.
"That's what Draco said, too. He didn't sound too happy about it, either. But you of all people should now that myths are never too far from the truth-ranging from wizards, to enchanted clocks, to basilisks-"
"That's enough," Ginny said coldly, memories flooding through her like acid, biting their way through the comfortable setting of a late breakfast.
Izha nodded and sat back, her face once again tinged with the benevolent impassibility she had abandoned minutes ago. Her words and the pain they caused to her friend saddened her, but she understood only that could bring her close to Draco again-for the one thing they currently shared without wanting to admit it was just that--, their pain, resentment, and actions brought forth by elements greater than themselves.
"… from bitterness and strife they grow, `til love their red marks show," Leo, absorbed in his effort to remember his textbook, recited.
Behind the closed doors of the dining room, Narcissa, her ear inelegantly glued to the keyhole, closed her eyes, and smiled softly.
-+-+-+-
Delices de Diane, Stonehenge City
They decided to meet at the Delices de Diane (2). The elegant tea-parlor boasted secluded booths and an outrageous selection of delicacies, so that the promise of chocolate truffles alone would have sufficed to lure Ginny from Malfoy Manor. Izha and her friend arrived there first, the redhead eliciting nothing but a small trail of murmurs from people too civilized to openly stare and comment. Izha, her long, black hair hiding the mark on her cheek so as not to draw further attention, lead them to a cozy little booth where they sat down. The usher closed the lacy curtains behind them with an air of the utmost seriousness and discretion; Ginny giggled.
"You'd think he expects us to discuss state affairs, or propose…"
"Wait, isn't that what we're here for?" Izha asked, all the while maintaining a perfectly straight face. "After your bedside confessions last night, I thought I could hope-"
"Izha, joking?" Ginny smirked. "What has the Londonian air done to your impeccable reserve?"
"Why blame it on the atmosphere when my greatest teacher in humor is sitting right in front of me?" Izha observed serenely.
"I am not that-"
"Hello," came Shehzin's throaty voice from the entry of the booth. She smiled that smile of hers which lit up her entire face like sunlight illuminates dawn, but there was a strain in her tone that both women noticed.
"Hi," Ginny said as hesitantly.
Shehzin sat down, fumbled with her purse, and finally looked up. Ginny was staring attentively at her spoon, the guilt for misleading her friend about her identity washing through her in a sudden, quiet wave. And though she understood that, in essence, who she actually was should play no part in their friendship, the breach in trust her lies had created could not be mended. Expecting a rebuke, she was therefore surprised by Shehzin's next words.
"Gin, I'm terribly sorry for what I did! I didn't know what it meant to you, and when Blaise asked to, and we owed Draco a wizard's debt, I felt it was the right thing to do!"
"Wait," Ginny interrupted her, spluttering, and Izha, interested by the unexpected development, leaned in. "Do what?"
"Tail you!" Shehzin exclaimed, moving her hands about her expressively. "I followed you. Do you remember when you met your friend at St. Mungo's?"
"Who, Neville?" Ginny asked, stunned by the turn of the discussion.
"Yes, I think so. I was there! And I told Blaise about your discussion with him."
"You were there… But I didn't see you!"
"No, you didn't. But did you see me?" she asked, and suddenly her cheeks thinned, her complexion paled, and her hair turned a dull blonde.
"Uh… I don't remember. I might have, but… You're a Metamorphmagus?"
"That's exactly it," Shehzin said. "I look familiar, but not distinctive enough that you would remember me."
"You're a Metamorphmagus," Ginny repeated, startled by the woman facing her, whose voice and eyes remained those so characteristic of Shehzin. "And you followed me? Spied on me? Betrayed me," she added as an afterthought.
Shehzin allowed her appearance to shift back to her natural one and nodded wearily. She felt at a loss for words to justify her actions, and the hint of disappointment pooling slowly in Ginny's eyes was an additional thorn in her side.
"She owed Draco a wizard's debt and believed something was wrong," Izha pointed out reasonably. "Moral duty, Ginevra. Surely you understand that notion?"
Ginny frowned and bit back the nasty comment she had for Shehzin. As Narcissa's revelations had days earlier, Izha's comment put Ginny back in her place and allowed her to step back and examine Shehzin's motives. As her grudge against her did not root back as deeply as that for Draco, she quickly found it within herself to accept the other woman's apologies.
"I understand. You did what you had to do. And I'm not exactly blameless, either," she conceded, knowing that she was tempting fate in bringing her own deceptions back to the table.
"Well… I suppose you did what you thought was right, too. Is it all settled now with Draco?"
"Yes," Ginny said easily.
"And still you lie," Shehzin snarled, her sparkling eyes suddenly narrowing in an expression of disgust Ginny had never before seen.
Ginny was horrified to realize that not only had she lied again, but Shehzin now expected and could detect her dishonesty. Had she managed to break the few, good things that had come from her becoming Lady Malfoy-namely, her relationship with Shehzin, Izha, and even Narcissa? Draco's deception she could deal with, those days when she still found it within herself to resent him, but these women had made her forget her vengeance, her bitterness, her solitude, and all she had offered them in return was a façade. Despair crushed her.
"I've forgotten how not to," she admitted, tears welling up in her eyes.
Shehzin slipped from where she sat next to Izha and took a seat by Ginny, wrapping her round arms around her. Her anger seemed to have vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
"You have to let go of it all, Gin," she whispered in her ear, her voice warm with a firm compassion. "You lied to us, and I lied to you. I don't know what Draco did," she felt Ginny tense and held her tighter, "but unless you learn to leave it behind, you can't repair the damage you've done."
"I can't repair it anyway," Ginny murmured.
"That's right, you can't," Shehzin said, and Izha looked at her sharply, afraid of the turn the conversation was taking. "Not with the way you're acting, at least. Goddamit, Gin, you've disappeared from our lives, abandoned your causes, become a ghost of yourself. If you don't trust yourself, how can you expect us to trust you?"
Ginny's tears trickled down her cheeks despite her closed eyelids, burning their way across her lashes and along her freckled skin. What Shehzin was telling her, she already knew. The overwhelming reality of it was just too much to bear, and if even her once good friend admitted that there was no going back, then she couldn't hope for anything anymore. She failed to notice that Shehzin still had her arms around her, and that her voice quivered a bit.
"Just give it up. Move on. Give us another chance so that we can give you one, too," she said coaxingly, as the tooth-fairy who had entered the booth to take their order was shooed out by one of Izha's imposing glances. "Please."
Izha, sitting with her back very straight, looked at the women before her with an all-enveloping gaze of compassion, in a posture that made her seem awkwardly detached and distant. Her eyes, bright with care, told a different story, as she once again found herself faced by the minuscule but painful repercussions of her father's doings.
"It takes twenty years or more of peace to make a man; it takes only twenty seconds of war to destroy him," she said slowly. "You have the possibility to prove this Muggle king (3) wrong by listening to a mere woman."
"Oh, Izha," Ginny giggled, and her words were thick with tears, "quoting kings in the middle of a discussion."
"And calling me common, all in one," Shehzin said, frowning to maintain her own tears at bay.
"Discussion? From where I stand it looks more like an ultimatum. A very sloppy, wet one, but an ultimatum nonetheless."
"But I can't-" Ginny countered.
"Of course you can," Shehzin snapped, annoyance once again taking over, in a reaction customary of individuals spoiled during their childhood. "We'll help you. Right, Izha?"
"Only she can help herself."
Shehzin rolled her eyes and murmured, "Bloody sanctimonious woman.". Ginny laughed again. She nodded in the crook of Shehzin's neck, too absorbed in wiping her tears to notice the sigh of relief that slipped through her friend's lips. Izha smiled serenely, looking entirely too unperturbed by the set of events.
"How can you remain so calm?" Shehzin asked her as Ginny sat up again and tried to compose herself.
"I find that agitation is generally not very conductive to productive outcomes," Izha retorted. "Besides, you always need someone to say the serious sentence that will turn the tables, and it can't be delivered effectively if you're too busy not choking on your tears and mucus."
Shehzin made a face.
"Gross. And I suppose that someone is you? Self-righteousness is indeed a Malfoy trait!"
Izha smiled mysteriously, acknowledging the barb, and added, "But I'm no Malfoy."
"I don't know about you guys, but I could use some chocolate right now," Ginny interrupted, never too keen on discussing Izha's ancestry. Shehzin nodded emphatically, and Izha merely looked away, all of a sudden absorbed in her thoughts.
As if on cue, a fairy flew inside their booths. She was rather plump but pretty, dressed all in white and smelling of mint and sugar. She gave them a bright, beautiful smile, so white it almost shone, and asked whether they were ready to order.
"I'll have the chocolate sundae with whipped cream, nutella, and extra-chocolate chips please," Ginny said without a moment's hesitation.
"Ice cream?" the tooth-fairy asked.
"Vanilla," Ginny replied as Shehzin and Izha smiled indulgently.
"And for you ladies?"
"I'll have the chocolat-chaud du Chef," Izha said.
"Same for me, with a side of chocolate truffles please," Shehzin added.
"Certainly. I'll be back in a few minutes."
And with that, the fairy floated out of the booth. Ginny's eyes were positively shining-whether with remnants of tears or gluttonous expectation, though, was up for interpretation.
"So," Ginny said after taking a deep breath. "What's been going on?"
"Well, Blaise and I discovered this new trick in be-"
"I don't want to hear it," Izha said flatly, a shimmer of mirth in her eyes.
"Yeah, me neither. Please. It's not as though I ever told you about the position Drac-"
"I said stop, ye wanton women," Izha interrupted. "Merlin's beard, can't you keep the secrets of your sex lives private?"
"No," Ginny said, grinning ferally.
"In fact, those are about the only secrets we can't keep!" Shehzin said viciously.
Izha was about to comment when she saw Ginny's eyes grow wide and her attention turn to the outside of the booth.
"Ginevra, what-"
"Shhhhhh," Ginny said, waving her hands, palms down, to demand silence.
Instinctively, the three women leaned toward the curtain that separated them from the rest of the café, exchanging mischievous glances although neither Shehzin nor Izha knew what they were listening for until they heard Draco's voice.
"… told you that I detested this place! It's a pathetic excuse for women to get together, gossip like teenager girls, and gain additional pounds by stuffing themselves like their metabolism still is what it used to be."
"It's also a very elegant and agreeable getaway for romantic rendez-vous," Pansy Parkinson's voice, obviously amused, pointed out.
"Thinking of what could have been but never will be?" Draco said, and Ginny could almost picture the sardonic smirk on his face.
"I'm so far beyond that, Draco, and you know it. Although I wouldn't be surprised if you were reconsidering your choice, right no-"
"Don't even start, Pansy," Draco said, his voice menacing.
"I mean, she is a blood-traitor after all. What have you gotten yourself into this time?" she carried on, either oblivious to his implied threat or too careless to oblige.
"I forbid you to refer to her in those terms…" Draco began.
"You are in no position to forbid me anything."
"…and I'll have you know we got engaged for a reason-and I was well aware of her being a Weasley."
"Oh, Draco," Pansy said tenderly, and Ginny suddenly wanted to claw her eyes out. "Surely you don't expect me to believe that?"
There was a silence. Shehzin and Izha exchanged a curious glance, while Ginny, her attention focused on her husband's voice, looked positively murderous.
"Where has Ginevra been, Draco? I haven't seen her in the past, oh, few months? This doesn't usually happen in happy couples, does it…?"…"
On the other side of the curtain, Draco fervently prayed for the tooth-fairy carrying Mrs. Parkinson's gift to arrive. He was all too aware that silence or rebuke would only serve to confirm Pansy's point, and, at that moment, he ardently resented the years of friendship they shared and that lead to her being so attuned to his thoughts.
"I doubt you know much about happy couples, Pansy," he remarked snidely.
"Perhaps," she retorted, and her voice turned chilly, "but let me tell you this, Draco Malfoy." Her voice dropped a few decibels. "I don't know what your pretty little wife has been up to, and quite frankly, I don't care. All I know is that she took what was rightfully mine, disrupted the established order of things, and did something to you-"
"It's called hea-"
Ginny blushed fiercely, but Pansy interrupted Draco.
"I am not a fool, Draco!" she hissed. "As far as I'm concerned, she's a fickle, vicious little bitch-"
"Pansy…" Draco said, and Ginny knew him well enough to understand that his once best friend had just crossed a line she hadn't even known existed.
"-and I will not be associated with her, or you, until you get rid of her."
"Then I guess that settles it," Draco said calmly. "Goodbye, Parkinson. My mother sends her regard to yours."
From the rustle of cloth and the silence that ensued, the three women understood that Draco had left Pansy. Sure enough, the witch's following words were not directed to her now absent friend.
"He really loves her, that bastard," she murmured almost sadly. "What a fool…"
Izha shot Ginny a meaningful look, which she pointedly ignored, aghast at the realization that Draco had just broken his long-lasting friendship with Pansy Parkinson. For her, no less. She placed her hands on her belly as, right on target, one of her sons made its presence known by shoving his brother. A series of kicks ensued, making Ginny wince, but the warmth provided by her recent eavesdropping would not abate.
"Well," Shehzin said, smiling contentedly. "That was informative."
"Need any additional proof?" Izha asked.
"Yeah, because Parkinson thinking he loves me is a dead giveaway."
"I'd say so," Shehzin mumbled, as Izha replied, "It's the best you're ever going to get, because he's not willing to admit it to himself, let alone to you!"
"Where's my sundae?" Ginny asked, pouting like a kid.
Like magic, their orders appeared on the table. Ginny voraciously attacked her own, as Shehzin stared at her, aghast.
"She's in denial, isn't she?"
"Has been for weeks. Although you should see Draco," Izha said, smiling benevolently. "We're talking months."
"Stop gossiping and enjoy the chocolate," Ginny suggested, ignoring their earlier comments. "Now, what do you know about baby names?"
-+-+-+-
London.
In his office, Draco silently cursed Pansy. Granted, he had never questioned her perspicacity, but her choice to hold that discussion in such a crowded place was unacceptable and she knew it perfectly well. Though he wasn't sure what her intentions were-whether she wanted him to admit his need for Ginevra or the fact that their marriage was a sham-he had not appreciated the move.
Subconsciously looking for an outlet to appease his anger and tiredness, Draco blindly ran his hands across his desk. He wrapped his fingers around a quill, thinking of how easy it would be to break its frail skeleton and twist its velvety strands, so harmoniously melded together in the feather that had once propelled a bird through the clouds. How easy it was, to break things; how easy to destroy what made you soar, slating yourself for the inevitable tumble back down to reality.
"Lord Malfoy?" came the voice of his secretary from the door.
"Yes?" he asked, immediately slipping on the mask of the perfectly composed gentleman.
"Simon Ellsworth and Richard Gane, from the Wizarding Bank of America, are here to see you."
"Show them in," Draco said, suddenly feeling on more comfortable terrain; unlike feminine emotions and intrigues, businesses and money were things he enjoyed playing with. The shadow of a broken Icarus still falling through clouds of sunlight accompanied Draco as he welcomed his business partners.
(1) Persephone, following her kidnapping by the Lord of Underworld, Hades, was tricked into eating pomegranates, which forever tied her to the land of the dead. She eventually came to love and respect her husband, even displaying jealousy when he fooled around with Mintho. The orchid was the one Ginny was taking care of at the end of the previous chapter. Reference: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Persephone
(2) "Delices de Diane" refers to the delicious pastries of Diana, Roman goddess of many things, amongst which are virginity and hunt. While she never was associated with actual pastries, I felt that this would be a lovely name for a place where women meet to indulge their love of chocolate.
(3) Baudouin I, King of the Belgians.
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