Blue-Eyed Angel
Chapter Twenty-three
Ginny returned to Draco after her visit to see Hermione, to give him the potion, and she did not mention what Hermione had divulged to her. Draco looked at Ginny and noticed her tension and was curious, but was trying to stay out of her mind. He was sure if it was something important having to do with her and him, she would mention it, right?
He wasn't completely sure about that, so he took a peek, just enough to see if he figured into it. He got a hint of her, and Granger, and Potter, and so Draco stopped there. If he was not one of the first names that he came across while sitting right there next to her, then he couldn't have been a part of what was upsetting her.
Glad to know whatever was bothering Ginny was not something he had brought about, he comforted her as best he could while still clueless to the problem and took his potion. He nibbled at Ginny's throat as he waited for it to take effect, feeling a warmness spread through his body.
Though she really needed to get back to her office, Ginny lingered. Draco had not been expecting it, them already having had a chance earlier for a romp, but Ginny was apparently in need of relieving her own frustrations now. Draco was happy to oblige, but was still, understandably, achy. They disappeared into the bookshelves and Draco let Ginny have her way with him, it was fun.
Draco was left alone nearly half an hour later. They had either had a long "quickie" or a really brief encounter, but either way, Draco was left feeling satisfied but extremely pained. He was in a content mood, but it was hard to maintain with Réamann's notes swarming him unanswered. He nearly lost an eye to one particularly eager plane and Draco, in his frustration and pain, swiped it out of the air with his claws and made sure it was thoroughly deceased.
Not only was he shagging the man's girlfriend, but he was no longer going to be helping him on the case… Somehow, Draco, as he clawed up the irritating purple planes, felt he was being terribly unfair to Réamann, and his guilt was back.
That made Draco grumpy and paper planes very dead.
-----------------
Draco thanked his mother for watching his children so late that night when he got home. He assured her over and over that he had been working and it wasn't him blowing his family off to go out with Ginny after work. He was blowing them off for work. Did that make it any better? To his mother it did apparently. He promised her he would not have any more late nights due to work, however, because he had been booted off the case. Narcissa seemed pleased in some way about that.
Draco was not sure how he felt about it when he got home at first. At the Ministry he had felt nervous, and angry. Mostly angry. At home he was feeling better and almost excited over the prospect of having more time with the children.
The case would do fine without him; it was not like he was single-handedly solving the thing.
Draco, in the end, was actually in a good mood. The potion had kicked in, he was home with his babies, he had spent some quality time with Ginny that day…how could he complain?
"What's that?" Clarissa asked as she sat at the kitchen table with her brother.
"Dad's humming," Michelangelo answered, sounding astonished.
"Humming?" Clarissa repeated, just as shocked as they started over at their daddy.
"What, am I not allowed to hum contently while I cook for you little monsters?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at his two children. They had requested eggs and bacon for dinner. He did not know where his children got this odd practice of requesting foods that are not normally offered at that time of day, (hamburgers for breakfast, pancakes for dinner…) but he was sure it was from their mother's side of the family. He and his mother certainly never stepped out of the bounds of what was formal and proper eating etiquette…when he actually ate.
"You never hum while you cook," Michelangelo stated flatly, looking at his father suspiciously.
"You never hum, Daddy," Clarissa tagged on.
"Am I not allowed to start?" he asked with a chuckle, walking over to the table with a hot skillet full of scrambled eggs, using his spatula to push a portion of them on to each of their plates, warning them with a whisper to watch themselves with the skillet so hot and close.
"You have been acting really weird lately," Clarissa commented in a way that showed total child's innocence yet understanding that something was different at the same time.
"Yeah," Michelangelo agreed.
"I don't think I have…"
"You know what I think it is?" Michelangelo said slyly, eyeing his sister.
"What?" she asked, pretending to exclude their father from the conversation by both dropping their voices.
"I think he is in love," he said and Clarissa giggled in what seemed to be agreement.
"What?" Draco gasped, looking over at his children again from the stove in complete surprise and slight embarrassment.
"It's alright, Daddy, I'm happy for you," Clarissa said, Michelangelo not exactly adding his support there but not saying anything negative either.
"Now children, honestly, I have been seeing Ginny for two weeks."
"So, what does that matter? Mum was already pregnant by now," Michelangelo pointed out, Draco dropping his spatula with a clatter into the skillet in his surprise and then turned bright pink, hunching his shoulders so as to hide it from his children who were to his back.
"Michael, now that's not true," he mumbled, though not about to say it took him a whole two months before getting their mother pregnant. That was not the point. He knew his son was being neither mean, nor helpful, he was just being a pain, that being the best he could honestly hope for, so there was no sense in yelling at him. Yet. At least he wasn't being a brat, though not quite as supportive as he would have liked, but he was kind of asking a lot from him so quickly.
Clarissa was in a fit of giggles.
"He-he, Daddy is in lurve," she teased, taking a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth at that point.
"Only with myself," Draco assured with a burning blush he continued to hide from his children as he tended to their bacon. He hated being teased, and his children could never pass up an opportunity to do so.
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The phone was ringing and ringing, and Draco was ignoring it. There was only one person that would be trying to call him and he did not want to talk to Réamann. Surely Sebastian had said something to him, right?
Thinking on that, Draco was sure Sebastian wouldn't have said anything to him, leaving him that lovely mess to deal with.
Michelangelo looked over at his father questioningly after the fifteenth ring. Draco was tempted to pick up and hang up real fast, but that would only confirm that he was home, which he was pretending not to be at the moment, but the ringing was disturbing their movie. Clarissa was curled up with him on the couch and Michelangelo was in his chair, and they could not enjoy "Flight of Dragons" with the phone going off every few seconds.
Draco sighed loudly after Michelangelo made to answer the phone. He leaned down and snatched it up before his son could reach it and held it to his ear.
"Malfoy," he sighed.
"Draco, what the hell took you so long to answer your phone?" Réamann demanded.
"It never occurred to you that I might not have been home?" he asked, both children listening, not caring much about the movie they had seen a hundred times in the past. It was Draco's night to pick the movie, and he picked "Flight of Dragons" a lot. Was it terribly cliché or ironic that he liked Dragons so much? So long as his children never told anyone he was sure the secret was safe, he could endure their constant teasing over it.
"It is a Friday night, where would you be other than home with your children after work?" he asked and Draco sighed.
"I can't have a social life?"
"Speaking of work," Réamann pressed on, ignoring Draco's indignant question, "I didn't notice you doing much of that today. What happened? I got no response to any of my notes I sent down and I was worried. I couldn't get away from my desk long enough to go down and see you and-"
"Réamann, Réamann?" Draco interrupted, trying to preempt one of Réamann's irritating chronicles. "I'm sorry that I could not get back to you," he said and Réamann was quiet, waiting to hear the explanation. "I'm sure if you ask Sebastian about it he will tell you: I have been kicked off the case, by him," he disclosed.
"What? But you are not officially on the case to be kicked off! How did he know, what happened?"
"He figured me as your informant, me being a very obvious choice after all, and he made it clear that I'm not to have a hand in any more of your reports and papers, and he made sure I understood exactly what he would do if I disobeyed."
"Disobeyed? Draco, did he threaten you?"
"Not physically," Draco sighed, leaning back to prop his feet up on the coffee table like his mother hated.
"What did he say?"
"Réamann, we are both going to end up in a lot of trouble if we continue this, and you have never been to Azkaban, I can tell you, it's no vacation retreat."
"Azkaban, Draco, you can't be serious…I mean, we are just trying to solve a case here and save lives."
"No good deed goes unpunished," he said coolly.
"Draco-"
"You are conversing with a Death Eater out on probation, and sharing classified information, and supplying him with potions, and sneaking him on to scenes…Réamann, honestly, there is enough going on here that compounds into some serious prison time. I'm glad to have been of some help in the case, and I wish you the best with it, and I'm sure we can have tea and sandwiches some time when you start to miss me," he said flatly and Réamann tried to interrupt. "I'm afraid we can't see each other anymore," he said, making it sound like he was breaking up with Réamann, Michelangelo smirking and Draco smiling over at Clarissa who was hugging a pillow to her mouth next to him to stifle her giggles.
"Don't call here again," he said, hanging up and Clarissa finally allowed herself to laugh out loud, while Michelangelo looking thoroughly amused by it himself. Draco yanked the phone line plug out of the back of the base and tossed it aside to not have any more interruptions.
Why hadn't he thought of that twenty minutes ago?
-----------------
Saturday was just another day of work for Draco.
Everyone that normally had the day off, still had the day off, unless they were somehow tied to the case. Réamann was most definitely in, but Draco had not gotten a note from him all morning. By lunch Draco had caught up on all the work on which he had fallen behind. His inbox was still taller than he was while sitting, but at least it was down to one stack, not three. He had a normal day's worth of work left, and that was almost a relief. Maybe he could get through it, plus whatever requests came down during the day, and get home at a reasonable hour to spend the night with the children. Tonks and Lupin would be coming over for supper like they did most Saturday nights, and Draco was really looking forward to that. It felt like his life was back to how it was before, only now he had one added bonus: Ginny.
He had her up against the bookshelves, her right leg up and wrapped around him. The potion he had been given the day before was different than the ones Réamann gave him. It was either better, or stronger, or had different ingredients so that it did not build off his tolerance to the one Réamann had been supplying him. Draco prided himself at potion making, but he could rarely tell the difference between two similar potions by taste alone without them at least side by side. They all just tasted grainy and foul.
He was, however, feeling quite spry at the moment and Ginny got to feel the effect of that. There was a lot of panting, moaning, position changing, sloppy kissing and hair gripping. Draco was glad he had the devious foresight to have a small supply of condoms at work. He had not really thought he would be having sex at work, let alone this much, but he had humored the idea of a quickie while on break and had wanted to make sure that such a fantasy didn't die just because, in the heat of the moment, they realized they had no protection. He had started with just one, but when he realized that Ginny was making a habit of visiting him on lunch, he had brought more in. He was certainly making good use of them. For the first time in three years, Draco actually looked forward to going to work. The good far outweighed the bad now as Ginny moaned and pulled his hair.
In the midst of all their naughty business making, Ginny and Draco heard someone call out.
"Hello?"
Draco turned and Ginny leaned around him, both panting and hearts pounding, but now for very different reasons than a moment before.
"Oh, bloody hell, it's Réamann!" he hissed, pulling away from Ginny and allowing her to panic and fetch her clothing. They were still dressed, sort of. She was topless and her skirt was up around her waist, so really, anything she would want to cover to call herself "clothed" was exposed. Draco's white dress shirt was hanging unbuttoned, his jeans down around his knees.
"Shit, shit, shit," Ginny hissed over and over, pulling up her bra, down her skirt, buttoning her blouse and looking for her knickers.
Draco got his pants up and was working on buttoning up his shirt, but his fingers were fumbling slightly in his panic.
"Hello?" Réamann called again.
"Oh God, Coderdale, just head him off," Draco hissed as he buttoned his pants, hoping the old man would somehow hear his desperate begging, or Réamann's calling, and do it.
Ginny grabbed her pantyhose that were on the floor and her shoes she had taken off the get the pantyhose off because they had tangled around her ankles and prevented her from being able to do much of anything. For some reason it seemed that Ginny always ended up more undressed than Draco. She gathered up her robes that were in a pile on the floor and dashed away, deeper into the bookshelves to hide. The place was a maze and Réamann would never know she was there, so long as Draco could make himself presentable enough that Réamann would not wonder.
Draco was zipping up his black sweatshirt with his white shirttails hanging below its bottom edge, by the time he heard footsteps. He pulled his long hair out of the back of his collar and ran his fingers through it. He wished he was vain enough to keep a mirror on him, he needed a mirror. Had Ginny been wearing lipstick? He could not remember.
Rubbing his sleeved hand over and around his mouth vigorously to hopefully rub away any lipstick that might be on him, Draco saw Réamann wander into view.
"Oh, Draco, there you are," he called, walking a little quicker now to come up to him.
"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" he asked, not having to fake any of his annoyance. He was plenty annoyed.
"I needed to talk to you but knew if I sent a note down you wouldn't even reply," he started to explain, looking at Draco's slightly out of breath state with questioning eyes.
"I'm not working with you on the case," Draco sighed, mentally relieved that Réamann didn't note anything odd about his appearance right off, so there probably not being anything terribly out of place about him other than for the fact he looked rather startled.
"I know Sebastian came and warned you, threatened you and intimidated you-"
"I think you are taking it a little far now. Malfoys are not that easily intimidated," Draco snapped indignantly, but Réamann ignored him.
"But I was hoping we could look the cases over, one last time, you know, to see if you can't help me see anything else before you quit."
"I'm not quitting," Draco argued, irritated. Malfoys never "quit," they never "gave up." He was not quitting, he was being forced off…but not because he was intimidated.
"Please, I really do need your help in this. I have been honest with you about that since the beginning."
"Implying then that there are things you have not been honest with me about," Draco quipped smoothly. Honestly, he was a Legilimens, he could tell when someone's feelings didn't match what they were saying…in other words, he knew when he was being lied to. He had never sensed any great dishonesty from Réamann, the bloke was just tactless and irritating.
"No, no, that is not what I meant. Damn it. Please, Draco, I'm begging," he said, lacing his fingers together in front of him, literally begging. "Please."
Draco groaned. "I don't want to end up in Azkaban."
"You won't. I could come over to your place, say tonight, where no one would be able to snoop or prove a thing, and we can have a look over the files one last time."
"I can't tonight."
"Draco-"
"I am having a family supper, with Nymphadora, Remus, my mother, and the children."
"Oh," Réamann said softly, feeling like a jerk to have been about to accuse Draco of not having a social life to use as an excuse. He supposed family dinners were hardly a "social life," but he was not about to bet that Draco would appreciate him saying such. "I have to work `til really late, if you wouldn't mind waiting up," he offered.
Draco sighed, wanting Réamann to go away, seriously. He did not want to help Réamann at risk of himself, but if agreeing got him to go away…
"Fine, fine, one last look over," he agreed, running his hand through the ends of his slightly tangled hair.
"Really? You'll do it?" Réamann asked.
"I just said as much. Now, if you please, I do have an actual job and the Ministry does want me to do it."
"Oh, yes, of course," Réamann nodded, understanding that his presence was no longer appreciated, though, since their little fight, he doubted it was ever appreciated. Draco still got the impression that Réamann was kind of avoiding him, and at the moment, he wasn't feeling guilty about it if that meant Réamann would leave.
Once Réamann was out of view, Draco turned and headed towards the way Ginny had disappeared. He looked around for her and eventually found her near the section about Carnivorous Plants. He noticed her sitting there and he immediately knew something was wrong. He did not have to see her face or hear her soft sobs to know she was crying.
"Ginny?" he asked softly, squatting down next to her once he was close, not touching her as he crouched there. "Ginny, why are you crying?" he asked. He was a firm believer in not asking stupid questions. "Are you alright?" was a stupid question to ask a crying person.
"Oh God…Réamann," she sobbed. Draco's brow frowned and he turned a little so that when he fell back onto his bum he was sitting beside her.
"He left and didn't ask any awkward questions," he assured.
"No, I mean, that's good, but…" she sobbed.
"You worried about him nearly discovering us?" he asked, using all his self control not to just look into her mind and understand all that she was feeling. He was not used to asking questions and waiting for responses. If his daughter was upset and crying, he could just know why. If his mother was mad at him, it was not a mystery. He wanted to show that he respected Ginny by not prying into her private thoughts, but he was so unaccustomed to this, and felt so awkward and inadequate at the moment. He felt like a typical guy: clueless and insensitive.
"No, I mean, yes, but no," she cried and Draco blinked at her. Women confused him as a whole, but how was anyone supposed to understand that: what Ginny had just said? He really wanted to look into her mind then and try and figure this out.
Ginny sniffed loudly and lifted her head to look over at him. Her eyes were puffy and red, and her cheeks were wet with tears.
"Ginny," he sighed.
"I can't believe I'm still doing this to Réamann," she sobbed.
"Cheating on him?" he asked, that being the obvious answer for any mind reader but for the average guy he was attempting to be at the moment, it was an honorable guess.
"Oh God, if he had caught us, he would have been so hurt," she cried. Draco blinked at her again.
"I think you are overestimating men," he said. "If he caught us, he would not be hurt, or sad, he would be very, very angry," he explained, Ginny looking at him. "Sure he would be hurt and sad later, but not until after he was through beating my delicate features in," he said and Ginny's eyes held such horror before she doubled up into a fit of tears. Draco recoiled a little and sighed. He didn't know what to do but take advantage of the fact that Legilimens literally meant "reader" and "mind" in Latin.
While she cried, Ginny was really open to him so it was easy to slip in and see what she was feeling.
Guilt.
It was odd to be relieved that she was feeling such a terrible amount of guilt, but it was reassuring. It showed him that she was bothered by what she was doing, that she truly understood what she was doing was wrong, and that she really was a good person, even if she could not help herself.
He was irresistible, he knew it.
"Shh," he soothed, leaning over to wrap his arms around her like he did his daughter when she would cry. Ginny let him hold her as she sobbed and he eventually started rocking a little so as to ease her.
"It's awright," he soothed.
"I can't do this, I can't keep lying," she cried.
"You want to go and be with Réamann?" he asked, knowing the answer was no already, knowing her mind and feelings on the matter, but his stomach contracting anyways.
Insecure? Him? Never.
"No, but," she hiccupped, pulling away to look at him then. "Lying makes me feel so terrible."
"Noble Gryffindor," he sighed, shaking his head with a small smile, brushing her hair away from her damp face.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," she accused while hiccupping still.
"Oh, no, I think it's what about you I'm so drawn to," he said, smiling warmly before releasing her and looking away as he continued. "Your kindness, your willingness to trust and believe in someone like me, your ability to love," he said, hugging his knees to his chest, looking at the bookshelves across from them rather than at her. "They are all admirable things, and you feeling guilt just shows that you are a good person in this word of arseholes."
"Don't you feel guilt?" she asked.
"Of course not," he said dismissively, not about to admit to such a thing. The rumors were all true, he really was an arsehole.
"You're lying, lying about not feeling guilt," she accused.
"No, I'm not."
"Then look me right in the eye and tell me that you don't," she demanded.
Draco looked her right in the eye easily, like she wanted, but he had forgotten what he was supposed to say.
"I love you," was what came out, and it seemed to surprise them both and catch them off guard. They just sat there for a moment, eyes a little wide, a very heavy and awkward silence hanging over them following that unexpected declaration.
Draco looked away first, eyes wide and searching the bookshelves across from them as a means of escaping Ginny's stare.
Oh God, what had he just said? He said `the words'!
He wasn't supposed to say those words, those words were powerful, serious and manipulative, and women held those words in very high regard.
Oh god, why had he said that?
Why?
He didn't mean it. Surely he couldn't have meant it.
Draco looked over at the still stunned Ginny and felt his heart flutter and he looked away again quickly.
Oh God, he had meant it.
Ginny licked her lips, trying to find her breath that had been stolen for a moment.
"Draco," she managed and he very intently looked away. "Draco," she repeated.
"I'm sorry. I'm not sure why I said that," he mumbled, still refusing to look at her. Ginny reached over and grabbed his shoulder. He hunched it for a second, like a flinch, and she pulled a little to indicate that she wanted him to look at her. He did, slowly rounding his head to her, but he kept his eyes down. Facing her, his eyes were still down.
"Look at me," she commanded. Draco raised his silver eyes to meet her brown ones slowly and he looked very meek all of a sudden. "You meant that, didn't you?" she asked, knowing he wouldn't be able to lie while looking her in the eyes.
Draco furrowed his eyebrows while his eyes were still locked with hers.
"I'm sorry," he said softly.
"For what?"
"I shouldn't have said that. I don't know why I did."
"Because you felt it?" she suggested. He just shifted uncomfortably. Ginny smiled and leaned in, kissing him. Draco closed his eyes at the kiss and left them closed even after she pulled away. Ginny let a calming breath out of her nose.
"You know, I think I love you too," she admitted, watching him as his eyes snapped open and stared at her.
"Ginny…"
"I love you," she said.
"See, no, not love…no. We have been seeing each other for two weeks. That is not long enough to be using the `L' word," he mumbled, looking uncomfortable.
"We have known each other for a long time though," she attempted.
"We hated each other in school and spent a lovely and very cold night together thirteen years ago. We have only just recently reacquainted. We have affection, and fluffy feelings maybe, lust for sure and the excitement of a new relationship of course, but-"
"You do not believe in love at first sight?" she asked, not really believing there was a timeframe for when love strikes. Sometimes it grows, sometimes it hits you over the head like a Bludger, but the effect is always the same, always that feeling of completeness that kind of makes you think you're about to puke.
"Of course I do, I was given a mirror at a very young age," he answered dryly and Ginny laughed at Draco's "prat-titude." She leaned forward, her cheeks still damp from tears but her face so bright and happy now.
"I love you," she said against his lips, holding his face to her with her hands on his cheeks.
Draco kissed her back, little smooches as they pressed their noses and foreheads together.
"I love you, but this is bad, I hope you know."
"What are we going to do about Réamann?" she asked, their foreheads still pressed together as they both looked down.
"And your very large family of burly and fit blokes?" he asked a little meekly.
"Oh God, and Harry…He thinks we hooked-up `that night' and will pitch a fit when he finds out we have now…" she moaned.
"In particular, Ron, who would likely see me castrated," Draco mumbled on, Ginny able to laugh softly and kiss him again.
"And the media?" she asked meekly.
"We can't really expose ourselves, it would just be disastrous."
"But what can we do?" she asked, sounding hopeless.
"We can continue to see each other," he answered.
"But, Réamann-"
"He doesn't know yet, and if we are careful he won't find out."
"But what if he does?"
"You any good at Memory Charms?" Draco offered and Ginny nudged him with her elbow as they settled down beside each other again.
"Draco."
"We can be more careful, he wouldn't know, I'm not going to be working with him anymore."
"But what if something happens?" she asked.
"Like he stumbles in on us again?"
"Like I end up pregnant?" she asked and Draco stiffened, unable to breathe for a brief moment.
"You are not pregnant," he said, though the question was still there, as was his frantic internal panic.
"No, but Hermione is," she sighed. Draco's eyes widened and he started shaking his head.
"I had nothing to do with that," he assured and Ginny managed a laugh that faded into a sad sigh.
"No, Harry did," she said and Draco looked at her.
"Potter and Granger are procreating?" he asked. She nodded. "Ew," he said and Ginny chose to ignore that.
"They thought they were being careful in their secret little affair, but now, well, you can understand why they need to come out and tell the family."
"You worried out little affair will have to be exposed because you will end up pregnant?" he asked, supposing, with his record, and her family, he could not blame her for the concern. The fact that they had just had sex a dozen times that week, and had a condom break once, only compounded that worry.
"I don't know. Just, finding out about Hermione and Harry, it puts into sharp perspective everything, you know?"
"Yeah, I know," he said softly.
"We can't tell anyone about us, but it's almost like a time bomb waiting to go off if we don't. We can't hide it forever."
"We can try."
"Draco,"
"I like the idea of putting it off indefinitely," he said sheepishly. He was not much of a procrastinator, and it was odd because he had wanted so much for them to be proper before, but now, after having spent a night at the Burrow, he still wanted that but understood finally why they couldn't have it.
"But-"
"Lets not worry about it right now," he said, kissing her again.
"But-"
"I have tomorrow off and you do too. We can get together and talk about all this and come up with a better plan."
"Alright," Ginny agreed and Draco leaned over to give her a kiss. They shared several little smooches because they knew that once they were done kissing Ginny would have to leave. So they would kiss again, and then once more, and then again after that, delaying her departure.
"I really should go," she said between two kisses.
Draco nodded, but gave her another kiss.
"I need to get back to work," she attempted, making no attempt to get up.
Draco nodded more and kissed her again, and neither seemed to want to be the first to get up, so they sat there, smooching.
"Come to my home tonight, for dinner," he asked between kisses.
"What? Draco, I couldn't…"
"Réamann is working late, and you are not. Come over."
"You sure it's a good idea?" she asked, not knowing yet who else would be there.
"I spent a supper with your family, you should spend a supper with mine. It would mean a lot to me if you came," he said softly and Ginny groaned.
"Ugh, I hate it when you talk all pouty and soft and ask so sweetly," she whined, squeezing her eyes shut tight.
Draco smiled. He was a mama's boy and he knew how to manipulate a woman who loves him in just the right way to get what he wanted. It seemed Ginny knew how to do the same in regards to him, probably something Clarissa had taught her, so they were on a level playing field it seemed. Pounting was fair game. They could manipulate the crap out of each other to get what they wanted.
"Come tonight?" he asked, adding a slight pout to his lips and Ginny looked ready to hit him, or kiss him.
"Alright, alright. What time?" she asked with a sigh, giving in to his boyish charm.
"Eight," he answered before giving her another little smooch.
Draco stood first and offered his hand to Ginny and pulled her up to her feet. He did not let go of her hand however and Ginny was surprised when he then proceeded to hold her hand the whole way back to the front of the hall in a sort of leisurely stroll.
"I never would have pictured you the hand-holding type," she commented.
"I used to lead Pansy around Hogwarts by the hand all the time. You must not have been paying attention," he scoffed.
"You're right, I was too busy ogling your bum," she teased.
"Please, like you could have gotten any decent peek of my bum through all my school robes." He rolled his eyes. "They made them exceedingly baggy and lacking any form to try and hide from each of us the fact that, underneath all that dark material we were swimming in, there were other horny pubescent teenagers with bodies we wanted to touch inappropriately."
Ginny laughed. "Draco, you're terrible," she said, swinging their clasped hands between them. "And I did get to ogle some bum. Quidditch robes are quite sleek and form fitting, particularly when they are wet and clinging."
Draco looked over at her.
"You look good when you're wet," she teased with a wink but being completely honest.
"Weasley, you are, without a doubt, the most shameless and deprived Gryffindor I have ever met."
"Are Noble Gryffindors not aloud to be randy?" she asked, her nose up just a touch.
"No, but look out for those Hufflepuffs. Whoo, are they surprisingly all little sexual deviants. I was nearly raped a dozen times while at Hogwarts by those yellow clad miscreants," he mocked. Ginny just reached around to pinch him and he blocked it but she got him from behind making him jump as she pinched his bum.
"Hey, ouch, no fair," he whined as she grinned. She had wanted to do that for so long.
------------------------
"I can't believe you invited her," Narcissa fumed while moving around Draco's small, horribly colored kitchen. Orange cupboards, olive-green countertops and floors, gold appliances, sky-blue walls…honestly, with a similar color scheme in the living room and bedrooms, the previous occupant had to be the worst home decorator ever. But the atrocious decor was one of the reasons he had gotten the place so cheap, so he didn't complain…too often.
Lupin, Tonks and the children were in the living room while Narcissa and Draco finished up preparing dinner. Draco was sitting on the edge of the counter now, shoulders slumped slightly, his mother scolding him.
"She is my girlfriend and I wanted her to be a part of supper," he said timidly. He had just told his mother about Ginny's plans to join them, but not that he and she had had a major revolation in their relationship and shared some "I love you"s. She had taken the news as well as Draco could hope for, but better than he had expected. She hadn't smacked him with her spatula.
"This is a family dinner, and she is not part of this family," Narcissa stated firmly as she tended to the food on the stove with redirected aggression.
"I want her to be."
"Angel, stop being silly. You are in an affair with a woman and are talking like you want her to be a proper girlfriend."
"I do want her as a proper girlfriend."
"People always seem to think that they will be the one to change a person. They get it in their minds that this person will cheat on their partner to be with them and that they will stay with them forever and never cheat on them, but it's a load of poppycock. If they are willing to cheat on someone else to be with you, they are willing to cheat on you to be with someone else. Once you get old, and boring, and they lose interest, they will look to someone else, just like they had done with their previous relationship and how they found you," she fumed.
"Ginny is not a chronic cheater. She has never done anything like this before," Draco said in Ginny's defense.
"Cheaters have to start somewhere."
"You are not being fair, Mother. You do not know the whole story."
"What else is there to know?" she snapped.
"Réamann is just as unhappy with the relationship as Ginny," he confessed and Narcissa looked over at him.
"What?"
"I can see it in him. He is not happy, and I think if he weren't such a patsy he would just end it, but he fears the Weasley family and displeasing them, just like Ginny, so they are both just sitting in this stalled relationship, both miserable but unwilling to just end it. Ginny is at least doing something about it by looking for love while Réamann just fixates on work and pretends Ginny doesn't exist half the time."
"All relationships hit slumps. Love takes work and effort. It's not a free ride the whole way. After the internal butterflies have fluttered away you have to then compromise and make efforts and time. I don't think they are trying. They just want love and life to be perfect and it's not," Narcissa snapped. "What makes love so rewarding is the effort you put into it because it shows that you care and it's not just some chemical imbalance in your brain that makes your stomach clench and heart flutter."
"You certainly have a nice way of making love sound like a malfunction of the brain chemistry and then a vocation after that," Draco grumbled.
"Angel, you are feeling butterflies and lust and excitement. I'm not belittling any of that, it's all very real, but understand that it is because the relationship is new. Ginny doesn't sound to me like the kind of woman that fairs well once that has ended and she has to then commit and work to be in a serious relationship. I don't want you to get hurt because you are trying and she is just taking."
"She had one bad marriage, I did too. You can't hold that against us forever," Draco glowered. "You can't see me as a fool forever, and you can't treat Ginny like an incompetent wife, just because we wound up with people that did not suit us. I know you are strongly opposed to divorce, but it sometimes just happens."
"Are you saying Ginny suits you?" she asked.
"I think she understands me better than anyone else," he said and Narcissa glared. "Other than you of course," he reassured. "But I can't marry you, you can't be my companion. You are my mother, and I love you, but I need more than my mummy," he sighed and Narcissa then did too, understanding what Draco was saying but still upset over this whole "Ginny thing."
"Angel," she said while turning the knob of the stove so that the little blue flame died. "You always give one hundred percent in all that you endeavor. It is a very predominant Malfoy trait and something I really loved about your father…I just don't want you to be disappointed after you try so hard, so much harder than her."
There was a knock at the door and a hoot from Frank, Draco's Barn Owl.
"I know," he said while sliding down off the countertop. "But I have faith in her, and know that she is capable of love."
There was some soft commotion from the living room and Draco stepped in to see Ginny standing there, hugging Tonks.
"Hey, oh my goodness, I didn't expect you to be here," Ginny laughed while a little nervous but still very happy to see her friend. Lupin had stood from the couch respectfully at the entrance of a woman, and Michelangelo and Clarissa were looking over, Clarissa looking a little more excited than Michelangelo to see Ginny.
"Yeah, Saturdays are our family supper night," Tonks replied, pulling away to be holding both of Ginny's hands. She had the night off, even though she was a head Auror of the case. She was of high enough rank that she didn't get her balls busted, if she had balls to bust in the first place. "What are you doing here? Where's Réamann?" she asked, looking around Ginny's shoulder as though waiting for Réamann to enter in through the already closed front door.
"Réamann won't be joining us," Draco answered, walking over to them those few steps. Tonks looked between Draco and Ginny, and then looked over her shoulder at her husband who just raised his eyebrows at the situation before him.
"Dre?" Tonks asked and Draco smiled at Ginny and laced his fingers with hers. Tonks looked at them with wide, purple, shocked eyes. "Oh-my," she managed.
"Supper is on the table," Narcissa announced softly from the kitchen doorway. She dared only one fierce glance over at Ginny and Ginny smiled softly at her. Narcissa's face remained unmoved. She just closed her eyes and turned around, waking back into the kitchen.
Michelangelo and Clarissa rushed off to the kitchen leaving Lupin, Tonks, Draco and Ginny alone for a moment.
"Draco, I…wow," Tonks said, staring back and forth between the two of them.
"I really don't want to discuss this over supper, so either ask now or wait until later," Draco sighed, looking over his shoulder to the kitchen.
"You and Ginny are…?"
"Yeah," they both replied.
"And Réamann doesn't…?"
"No," they both answered again, this time a little sadly.
"Well, I think this deserves a proper chat, but let's wait until after a spot of nosh," Lupin suggested with a kind smile, limping over to them and offering Ginny his arm. Ginny smiled at her old friend and accepted his arm graciously. They made their way into the kitchen and Tonks offered Draco her arm teasingly, holding herself up tall. Draco pretended to swoon and little and accepted her arm in a reversal of genders and let his older cousin lead him into the kitchen courteously.
The little four-seater table pulled apart so a leaf could be inserted in the middle, but that only took it from seating four, to seating four with a little more elbow room. It was ridiculous to try and seat six there, and with Ginny making it seven and the food taking up what little space the table leaf had offered, there was a lack of seats, as always.
Narcissa got to sit at the table, anything less proper and she simply could not function. The children got seats because if they stood they would spill, and Lupin got a seat because he was old and achy, (or so he joked) even when compared to Draco's pains. Draco, Tonks, and Ginny stood around the kitchen. Ginny leaning against a counter top, Draco sitting on a counter top (just like he often did and it drove his mother crazy) and Tonks sitting quite contently on the floor, legs crossed in Indian fashion.
Supper was quite pleasant, Tonks served as the usual entertainment and the children were talkative and friendly as ever. This would be Michelangelo's last dinner with them because Monday he was hopping the train back to Hogwarts, as the start of term was January 1st.
Draco stole a glance or two, or three, at Ginny throughout dinner as she stood across the small room from him. Everyone was pleasant, but there was a serious elephant in the room, and no one wanted to say anything. That elephant was Draco and Ginny's relationship and all the questions that were dying to be asked. No one was going to say anything about it over supper, but supper wasn't going to last forever, no matter how slowly Draco ate.
With the children off to the living room with their nana to start the movie, Draco assuring them he would join them after clean up, he was left to be interrogated by Lupin and Tonks. Ginny stuck by Draco's side for the support, but was pleasantly surprised by how well they were taking it, and how understanding they were being. They did not yell, or show much objection at all. Tonks and Lupin seemed more interested about how this came about as opposed to "what are you thinking?"
"You can't hide this forever. Ginny is too much of a celebrity and you have too much infamy for people to not notice," Tonks warned, showing the first signs of disapproval.
"I know," Draco sighed as he washed dishes, by hand. Ginny had offered to do it herself with magic, but Draco had declined. She had cleared somethings with the Ministry, but he didn't know what, he didn't trust the Ministry, and he didn't want magic cast about in his house. Besides, he was more than capable. He didn't need help.
Lupin and Tonks, in the end, made it clear that they did not like the dishonest nature of the relationship, but were by far the best at handling the news. Granted, the only ones that knew about it were Draco's mother, the children and Hermione, so there were not a lot of reactions to compare with.
Draco was thankful, however, that his cousin was so understanding. She had given him a hug from behind while he stood there, elbow deep in soapy water, and he was feeling good about this. His family seemed to be adjusting. He feared Ginny's family though. Draco's entire family only just added up to the number of brawny and protective older brothers Ginny had that were more than capable, and willing, of killing him nine times over.
There was more than one reason why he had become content in recent days in keeping their relationship quiet…there were actually seven, and their names were: Arthur, Bill, Charley, Percy, Fred, George and Ron. Oh, and certainly bitchy-little-Harry-Potter would have something to say about Draco porking his ex-wife. Draco was not looking forward to that since Harry clearly disliked him enough already.
Tonks, Lupin and Narcissa got the couch, Clarissa and Michelangelo hogged the beat-up brown chair, Draco's owl perched on his head possesively, and Draco and Ginny snuggled up next to each other on the floor, content on watching the movie side by side, sharing a blanket in the chilly apartment. Draco could remember the times they had shared a blanket in the past, minus the owl on his head, and Ginny seemed to too as she leaned her head over to rest on his shoulder.
"I love you," Draco muttered to Ginny as he bid her farewell that night. They were on the metal front steps, everyone having left already. Narcissa a few buildings over to her apartment, and Lupin and Tonks home for the evening. Draco held Ginny's hands in the cold and she gave him a kiss.
"I love you," she answered, a little flutter in her stomach as she said that. She couldn't even remember the last time she and Réamann had shared those words.
Ginny headed off to the closest safe point to Disapparate home, and Draco turned back inside to tuck his children to bed and prepare for Réamann to come over and work one final night on the case.
--------------------
"I really appreciate this, you have no idea."
"Considering I can read your mind, I think I do," Draco said blandly, Frank still on his head, stubornly. "Now come on, I'm tired," he sighed, directing Réamann to sit. Réamann obliged without hesitation.
Michelangelo and Clarissa were up still, and Draco had made the mistake of asking them to "keep it down" while they tried to work. His children did not take direction well. He couldn't imagine where they got it from. He would use reverse psychology on them, but that didn't work either. They were too free willed. His mother could always get them to be quiet, but him saying "a little less noise" seemed to accomplish a "little less" than nothing.
Réamann and Draco were left having to put up with the children bickering from their bedroom as they worked.
Draco spread all the files across the coffee table in their order, looking over them with intense eyes.
"Awright, we just have to look at them from a fresh angle," he said firmly, Réamann leaning back to rub his face.
"What do you expect to see now that we, or the dozens of other people who are working on this, haven't already?"
"You asked me to look them over one more time," he snapped.
"I was hoping to discuss it and toss ideas around, you know, things that would help me with this case since you won't be there to feed me facts and ideas from here on out."
Draco said nothing, he just stared with owl perched on his head and glasses on his nose as he read.
"Draco,"
"Shut up, I'm thinking," he said flatly, tilting his head, Frank doing the same. Réamann just stood up to walk away. He went into Draco's kitchen and started to make himself some strong coffee. He was learning. He walked away before he said something Draco would make him regret.
Draco was silent and time passed very slowly as the water boiled.
Réamann returned to the living room with coffee, Draco's stubborn determination not allowing him to have moved an inch while Réamann had been away. He sat beside Draco and said nothing, wondering how long it would take Draco to admit that he couldn't solve the case or make a breakthrough just by staring at the same sheets of paper for twenty minutes. Draco's stubbornness was useful at times, but it wasn't very productive at the moment.
Another ten minutes of silence and then Frank nearly jumped out of his feathers and Réamann sloshed his coffee when Draco suddenly spoke.
"Wait," he said. Réamann wiped at the coffee he had spilled down the front of himself absentmindedly as he looked over at Draco and the paperwork with interest, too distracted to even care about his ruined tie.
"What?" he asked, looking and seeing nothing, waiting for Draco to explain himself.
"No, it couldn't be," he said, looking and sounding angry now.
"What?"
"Son-of-a-bitch, it really was that easy wasn't it?" he growled, leaning back and kicking the table with his foot so that it slid and inch or two across the burnt orange carpet with a thump. Frank fluttered over to his perch in the corner and Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like he was silently counting under his breath to try and get control of his temper.
"What? What's going on, Draco? I have no idea what you are going on about."
"It's so simple! I can't believe I didn't catch on before. Goddamn it."
"What? Explain yourself because you are driving me crazy here!" Réamann demanded, anxious and growing angry himself at being kept in the dark.
Draco leaned forward and grabbed the first folder.
"The first victim: William, the second: Helen, third: Adrian, forth: Steven, fifth: Emma, sixth: Theodor, seventh: Christopher and the eighth: Ilene," he said, handing Réamann each piece of paper as he read off the names.
"Are those names supposed to mean something to me?" Réamann asked, lap full of papers now.
"It's a goddamn acronym…scramble them up…S, E, A, W, I, T, C, H…" he said, leaning back to pinch the bridge of his nose again after taking off his glasses.
"Sea Witch?" Réamann asked, skeptical to say the least. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? And what about the ninth victim?" he asked.
"Victim number nine: Tracy. Another T, possibly to start another word, maybe `the,'" he sighed. "That son-of-a-bitch," he then cursed.
"You have said that already, you know who's behind this, don't you," Réamann said, shoving the papers back onto the table as Draco stood and paced for a moment. He then paused before he walked over to his television.
"You familiar with Walt Disney?" he asked, Réamann caught off guard by the question.
"The Muggle movie maker?"
"Muggle? He's no Muggle. Just knew how to exploit them to make a lot of money."
"Disney was a wizard?" Réamann blinked.
"Was? No, is…as in still is… why do you think all his movies had so much magic in them? He knew it would sell to Muggles. He's still living comfortably off it."
"He's dead," Réamann said, only not so sure as he had been moments before.
"As far as the Muggles are concerned he is, but that's not the point," Draco said, holding out to Réamann what he had grabbed from under the television stand.
"The Little Mermaid?" he asked, looking at the movie case and then back up at Draco.
"The villain is a Sea Witch," he said as though that explained everything and if anything it made Réamann think that Draco had quite possibly gone mental under all the pressure. Draco knew what Réamann was thinking, and glared bitterly.
"I don't follow," he confessed.
"Oh for the love of God," Draco said, flipping the tape over in Réamann's hands and pointing at the little red crab character.
"Sebastian?" Réamann asked, reading the name off the box. Draco looked at him expectantly for a moment. Réamann then made the connection.
"Sebastian Aurum!" he finally said, Draco snatching the tape back from him with an "about time" expression on his face. "You can't be serious."
"He thinks he's so intelligent and untouchable that he left us clues that would lead us right to him, confident that no one would figure it out and thusly stroke his ego that much more," Draco growled. "What a pretentious, arrogant, self-assured…prat!" Draco said, seeming as though his words were failing him then. He paced around, kicking and scuffing his feet, hopping a little and punching the air in his miniature temper tantrum as he cursed and swore. Réamann just watched Draco frustrated and aggravated little dance.
"You honestly believe he is behind this?" he asked
"Of course, it makes sense now. He had great understanding of the case, because he is the one doing it! He would certainly come across as clever given that! And him coming to me and telling me to shove off…he was worried that I would figure him in some way, otherwise he would have just thrown me to the Ministry. He's never passed up an opportunity to make my life a living hell before. Shit…I guess this means he thinks I'm smart," Draco added as an afterthought.
"You really think that this conclusively proves he is behind this? An acronym, and a children's movie?" Réamann asked.
"This conclusively proves nothing, if anything it's vague enough that we wouldn't even get a warrant to search his belongings, all part of him being clever…" Draco said in a huff. "You can't mention this to anyone."
"But-"
"We can't risk tipping our hand if we are on to something, and if I'm wrong…which I never am…it would look best if we had never suspected him. Sebastian may be a creep, and an apparent murderer, but he is held in high standing at the Ministry. He is confident, but careful. Who at the department would think to look at the Muggle children's movie for the clue, even if they did figure out the acronym?"
"You did."
"Because I have an eleven-year-old daughter that has been practically raised a Muggle and I happen to have the damn movie. I'm not even supposed to be working on this case. That bastard," Draco said again, turning around and cursing over and over again under his breath.
"Well, okay, fine, we think we know who's behind all this, that is a huge lead and a start, but we still don't know why. Why would he attack and kill Muggles and then leave clues that would lead back to him? It makes no sense. Like you said, he has a high standing at the Ministry. I hear he has his eye on the Minister's Office later in his career. Why do this? Is he just that confident that he could do something and get away with it that it's like, I don't know, a power trip for him or something?"
"Oh, for sure it is, but that's not why he's doing it."
"Then why?"
"How the hell should I know?" Draco barked.
"You are a fucking mind-reader!"
"And he knows Occlumency! Besides that, a mind is not a book I can just open and read; it is a honeycomb of thoughts, feelings, and memories, all milling around in active thought and filed away in the subconscious brain!"
"Then how do you always know what I'm thinking and feeling?"
"Because you make the constant mistake of looking me in the eye, and you are actively thinking about it. I can't see anything someone refuses to think about, but most people are not trained to clear their mind, so the harder they try not to think about something the more they actually do."
"Well, what am I supposed to do now? You are not on the case, and I'm working with Sebastian!"
"We need find out what he is up to, by getting close to him or something."
"I am close to him; I work with him every day."
"No, not at the Ministry, we need to get close to outside that place, see if we can't discover what his angle is," Draco said thoughtfully.
"You mean like a mole?" he asked and Draco looked at him. Réamann and him locked eyes for a moment and Draco just started shaking his head.
"Oh no, no. Don't look at me like that."
"Draco, you are an accomplished liar, and you fooled one of the most powerful wizards of this last century with your acting. You could get close to Sebastian and-"
"He doesn't trust me," Draco snapped.
"Make him trust you."
"You make it sound so easy. I can't even get you to trust me, and you don't hate me as much as he does," he scoffed and Réamann sighed, pulling on his hair so it was no longer slicked back so neatly.
"Damn it, Draco," he sighed.
"What do you want me to do, walk up to him and be like `hey, Sebastian, ol'chap, you have been the bane of my existence for the last three years and you resent and hate every fiber of my being, but I just needed to know, have you been attacking Muggles lately and can I help? I'm interested,'" he said in a light and mocking tone.
"You are the clever one, you figure it out," Réamann snapped.
"What exactly is your purpose on this case again?" Draco retorted.
"I am part of a team," he grumbled.
"Surely an important part," Draco drawled.
"There is no `I' in team," Réamann growled bitterly.
"There is a `me' though, if you jumble it up," Draco retorted, back on the thought of acronyms.
They glared at each other for a moment and Réamann sighed and backed down first.
"Fighting will get us nowhere. We need to clear our heads so we can think."
"Having a clear and empty head is nothing new to you, Réamann," Draco muttered as he moved and flopped down in his chair. Réamann glared but said nothing. They sat for a moment, Réamann unable to relax and think with all that Draco had just said.
"You have to go," Draco said abruptly.
"What? Draco!"
"Go home," he said, gathering up the files and shoving them in Réamann's arms. "Don't mention this to anyone, don't start hinting that you suspect Sebastian, do not reveal any of this to him…we need him to screw up, not try harder to cover his tracks."
"Draco-"
"We know he has a secret now."
"But we don't know what it is yet…"
"No, we don't, but the beauty of a secret is, as hard as it is to uncover, it's even harder to keep," Draco said with a smile, Réamann looking at him.
"What am I supposed to do? I am working with Sebastian on this case, I have to talk to him about these things, these things he is doing?"
They were at Draco's front door now, Draco having shooed Réamann all the way over there.
"We only suspect Sebastian, we have no proof yet. Innocent until proven guilty and all that horseshit…just act normal around him, you know, like you despise his very existence, and all will be fine," he said, already closing the door on him.
"Draco, you know more than you are telling me," Réamann accused but Draco just closed the door in his face and locked it. He then turned towards the living room where he saw his two children peeking out at him.
"What's going on, Dad?" Michelangelo asked.
Draco looked at them and did not want to tell them that daddy was seemingly still on the case, something that could quite possibly send him to Azkaban for a very long time. His children didn't need to know that, didn't need the worry.
"You two should be in bed. Come on," he said with a warm smile, heading over to his children and putting one arm down around each, to lead them to their room.
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Author's Note:
Fuck me and my acronyms, who do I think I am, JK Rowling?
DRACO TOLD GINNY HE LOVES HER!
Do forgive Frank, the Barn Owl. I love him, but he was feeling rather neglected in this fiction. I can't seem to get him off Draco's head now. Draco has a bad case of head-owl apparently. XD
Some of my references in this chapter:
-House: "There is no `I' in `TEAM', but there is a `ME' if you jumble it up."
-The Closer: "The beauty of a secret is, as hard as it is to uncover, it's even harder to keep."
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