Unofficial Portkey Archive

Blue-Eyed Angel

Chapter Twenty-four

Sunday morning dawned bright and early, and Draco slipped out of his house quietly, not waking the children before going. It was Michelangelo's last day home so Draco had to divide his time. He wanted to spend as much time as possible with him, but knowing his son had taken to sleeping in to nearly noon while on break, Draco felt it was safe for him to spend the first few early hours of the day with Ginny. They really couldn't put off dealing with their relationship any longer, or fool themselves into believing that by ignoring the problems they would sort themselves out on their own. He would be home before his son even woke and realized he was gone.

Draco was actually really depressed over Michelangelo going away. After everyone had left the night before, Draco had tucked the children off to bed and curled up in his own and maybe cried a tear. Maybe. He had gotten up to sit in the children's room, watching them sleep with his knees pulled up to his chest and back against the door as though barricading the world, and passing time, out. He had spent so many years separate from them; it was killing him to have to spend more time apart. He had managed to convince himself that he was okay with Michelangelo being gone since summer by keeping busy and writing a lot of letters, but having him home again just to have him leave after such a short (rocky) time, Draco was feeling just terrible.

Ginny was walking up the street, wrapped up warmly, heading from the safe point which she had Apparated.

"Hey," she beamed, happy to see him.

"Morning," he greeted, kissing her quickly. Ginny was wrapped up in a rich brown-wool coat and had a gold hat and scarf that all complemented her cinnamon-red hair perfectly. She looked warm but for her nose and cheeks that were a little pink. Draco was in his same old faded-black cloak and Slytherin scarf. He had no hat so in the cold winter breeze his long hair whipped around.

"It's cold," she complained.

"Nearly January," he pointed out, reaching down to grab her hand. He had his black fingerless gloves on again. "Mind hopping a bus?" he asked, Side-along unpleasant and he hated feeling like an appendage.

"No, not at all." She smiled, holding his hand in hers tightly.

Draco hated it that they could not be seen together anywhere in the wizarding world, that being the basis of why they were meeting to talk, so they stuck to Muggle establishments and shops for their morning excursion.

It being seven on a Sunday morning, it didn't look like many were commuting to work. There was only one man with an acid-green winter cap on and reeking of black licorice even near them on the bus. A pair of old ladies in purple sat in the front of the otherwise deserted motor vehicle.

"So, where are we going?" Draco asked, knowing they were going into London, but that hardly giving any hint as to their plans or ultimate destination.

"It's a surprise," she teased, enjoying the chance to lead Draco around like he had her on their first date, not telling him where they were going.

"I hate surprises." Draco pouted.

"Hey, you stay out of my head, Mister," she warned.

Draco held up his partially gloved hands in an "ease down" gesture and smiled. He leaned his back against the cold window so he could look at Ginny who was sitting next to the aisle.

"Reamann off to work?"

"Yeah, he seemed especially flustered today while making the bed. He wouldn't say anything though, just that he really hated Sebastian. He talking about Sebastian Aurum?" she asked.

"Yup." Draco nodded.

"I know he is a sod, but Reamann really seems to hate him."

"He's not the only one."

"You too?" she asked sheepishly.

"He has made it a point of making my life a living hell for three years. I have him to thank for the job I have now. I could have been working in the Department of Magical Transport, dealing with recordkeeping there, but Sebastian played it up as though I would use my position to try and flee the country and so on and I got closed up in that pit of the Ministry office I am in now," he divulged, sounding bitter. He realized just then that Magical Transportation was the department Ginny worked. She and Reamann had been dating for three years, what if Draco had met her first those three years ago when he had just gotten out? Would things have been different?

Draco wanted to strangle Sebastian right at that moment, for more than the usual reasons.

"Oh, oh my," she said, looking a little flustered.

"For curiosity's sake, why do you ask?" he inquired, respectfully staying out of her mind but Ginny looking away for good measure.

"I knew him, a couple of years ago," she muttered.

"Knew him? Knew him how?" he asked, blinking at her.

"He and I…" she mumbled, shrugging a little.

"Oh God, you dated that man?" Draco gasped.

"I had just broken up with Harry and I was upset. He was my rebound guy. It wasn't anything serious and it was terribly brief," she explained while flushing bright red, clashing with her hair and looking quite guilty.

"Damn, I don't know how upset I would have to be to shag him," Draco huffed, crossing his arms in his sourness.

"Don't be mad, that was almost seven years ago," Ginny said, looking just a touch moody. If Harry was not allowed to have an eppy over her and Draco kissing thirteen years ago, Draco was not allowed to pitch a fit over her briefly dating a guy he didn't like seven years ago. Honestly, what was it with men and their's girlfriend's exes?

"Oh, I'm not mad, but I'm seriously questioning your taste in men now. Potter, Reamann, Sebastian…"

"You," she pointed out flatly.

"Well, you were bound to run across a decent guy eventually," Draco drawled smugly, smirking, and Ginny rolled her eyes at him.

"So, do you know why Reamann was so upset this morning?"

"Because Sebastian Aurum is a slimy git and he has the pleasure of working with him on Sunday, a day he normally would have had off because of this cheery case?" Draco offered nonchalantly, looking just as self-satisfied as before.

"You are impossible," she sighed but with humor in her voice.

"You're dating me," he retorted and she pinched him.

Ginny pulled Draco along, clearly with an idea of where they were going. Draco complied with little fuss, until a salon came into view that is.

"No, uh-uh, let go of me, woman," Draco protested as she dragged him along.

"You were the one that was complaining you looked mangy, so I made you an early appointment with my hairdresser this morning and you are going to be grateful," she grunted as she pulled him.

"I will not be caught sitting under one of those ridiculous hairdryer chairs with a bunch of dames reading Maternity Monthly and Better Homes and Gardens. No, let go!" he fussed, still being dragged along by Ginny, people on the street watching the scene with some interest as they walked by.

"Come on, it's a haircut," she laughed, imagining Draco with curlers in his hair under one of the driers and unable to keep a straight face.

"I thought you liked my hair long," he grumbled, still fighting her.

"I do, but I think a trim would make it look nicer; it's long enough that you sit on it!"

"So!" he objected, at the doorway now and planting his feet against the mudguard.

"Come on," Ginny laughed.

"Morning, Ginny," a woman greeted as she came up behind the two of them, from inside.

"Hello, Lucy. Thank you for this, it being so early and last minute." Ginny smiled, releasing Draco's hand with a sigh and turned.

Draco, who had planted his feet and was leaning back still, ended up falling backwards to spill out the door upon Ginny's release. Ginny and Lucy both turned in surprise as Draco sat on the snowy sidewalk, whining.

"Ow, my butt," he moaned, people stopping to look at him where he had fallen before them.

Ginny gathered the stubbornly pouting werewolf up off the sidewalk and directed him inside, and Lucy led him over to her chair.

"So, this is who I shall be working on today?" she asked, eyeing Draco up and down in a not-so-subtle way. Ginny nodded and while Draco was looking away and sitting down in the chair, Lucy flung out the cape with a snap, facing Ginny and mouthing "he's hot," causing Ginny to giggle. She had to agree.

Lucy wrapped the cape around Draco and pulled his hair out to let it fall in one quick and smooth motion.

"What are we thinking?" she asked, treating them all like a collective mind.

"Ginny is the one that brought me here. I haven't cut my hair in over three years." He pouted.

"I was just thinking a bit off the ends, maybe a dye-"

"Dye? Hold on now," Draco objected instantly. Women tinted and highlighted and dyed their hair. He was not a woman. He knew witches that got their hair done by magic and potions and such in magical salons, and maybe he would have considered that, but barbaric Muggle means? Dyes and pastes and smelly stuff that fried hair? No. no, no, no, he was not doing it.

"White hair makes you look older than you really are," Ginny attempted to explain while being gentle.

"So you think I look old?" he asked in subdued outrage.

"You were the one complaining about it, so stop acting all wounded."

Draco humphed. Ginny would have taken him somewhere magical to get his hair done, thinking he would likely trust a spell or potion more than a Muggle in these matters, but their problem they were out that morning to address was that they could not be seen together in a magical shop, or market, or village. They had no other option, but Lucy knew what she was doing, Ginny trusted her with her gorgeous ginger-locks. Muggle establishments offered peace from the sometimes hectic and overbearing magical community, thus why Ginny came here. Here she was just a woman, no one of particular importance or interest. It was nice.

"Well, we can cut about this much off, to get rid of the tangles near the end," Lucy interrupted, indicating Draco's hair about halfway down as she raked her fingers through it, "And a little color would do you some good, no drying or damage or anything…and we can cover the white, don't worry," she assured and Draco looked pink around the cheeks.

"When did your hair start going white?" Ginny asked, enjoying Draco's discomfort just a little too much. He had always been pale, but he had at least been blond at one point. Now his hair was white, utterly white, and she wondered how and when that happened.

"At nineteen," he muttered. His hair had started to get lighter and lighter at the roots from the moment he was thrown into Azkaban, but he realized it was actually turning white by the time he was nearly twenty. Stress, plus that place, on top of being sick, had been what done it.

"How old are you now?" Lucy asked as she carefully brushed Draco's hair.

"Thirty," Draco muttered.

"I agree with Ginny here," she said with a smile, "far too young to have white hair, though it is quite eye-catching and soft. What were you before?" she asked, scrunching Draco's hair in her fingers as though appreciating its softness more.

"Blond."

"Really fair blond," Ginny elaborated.

"I can get you back to being platinum again, if you like," she offered and Draco continued to mope. "It would really suit you with those pretty eyes of yours. Anything darker would look obviously fake," she explained and he couldn't admit now that he kind of liked the idea of being blond, not after making such a fuss over it to Ginny.

Damn Malfoy pride.

"I think that sounds wonderful," Ginny answered for him, saving him from having to agree himself so he could continue to pout even though he was secretly a little excited.

Nearly thirty minutes later however, Draco was reconsidering that.

"It burns," he complained as he sat in the chair, his hair plastered up and foiled. He looked silly, he knew it, Ginny knew it, and she was doing her best not to laugh her arse off at him. "I feel like a pack of gum."

"You look no worse than anyone else in here," she pointed out and that somehow didn't make him feel any better while surrounded by old ladies in pink curlers, getting their hair sprayed stiff before church.

"When you said you had plans for where we could go, I had assumed you meant a restaurant or something, someplace we could talk."

"You assume too much." She smiled.

"This is hardly a setting for a private conversation of the deepest importance."

"Well, I know I'm having fun," she said as though conversationally.

"You are just enjoying my discomfort," he accused.

"Right you are," she teased.

"We haven't even talked about our relationship yet," he pointed out.

"Must you bring the whole moment down with that?" she sighed.

"Hey, if I have to suffer then you have to too, and it is the reason we are out this morning, you know."

"I know."

"We going to talk about it then?" he asked, Lucy leaving them alone for the dye to do whatever it was it did, other than burn and make his scalp itch.

"I still have no idea what we can do though. I mean, your family is, well, dealing…but I really don't think my family would be so keen on the idea."

"What if we don't tell them about the affair," he suggested.

"We already agreed that we can't hide this forever, no matter how much we want to."

"No, I mean, we tell them about us, but not about the affair," he said

"I don't follow."

"Break up with Reamann," he said and Ginny opened her mouth to protest. "No, hear me out. Break up with Reamann now, since you really want to anyways, and we will, say, in a month, start dating openly. No one needs to know we had been together since Christmas. We can go out on a date, say Valentine's Day, and everyone would be shocked of course, but they couldn't be mad at you, or hurt me…too badly," he added the last while giving shifty eyes.

"You think they would like that better?"

"Well, everyone will still pitch a fit, but it would be better received than news of us having an affair, don't you think?"

"I suppose," she sighed.

"What's wrong?"

"I just don't want to break up with Reamann," she sighed.

"I thought you did," Draco said, sounding a little irritated. Why did it always seem like they were going around in circles?

"I mean, I don't want to be in a relationship with him anymore, but I don't want to break up with him. He's, like, a friend and a really great guy."

"I think he is more likely to remain friends with you after a breakup than finding out you are cheating on him."

"I know, and you're right."

"As should always be assumed," he said smugly. He was caught between assuring her it would be for the best, and telling her that Reamann was feeling trapped by the relationship too. Draco knew that wasn't his place to say, but it might help push her that little bit further so as to commit to the plan of action.

"Ginny…"

"You ready for a rinse?" Lucy asked, interrupting them and preventing Draco from divulging such a significant piece of information.

Draco got his hair washed, and cut, and dried and Ginny couldn't stop laughing the whole time.

"Stop laughing." He pouted with his hair combed forward so that it was hanging over his face as it was trimmed. "It's not funny, it's called a haircut, and the majority of the population gets them on a regular basis."

"It's just, you are so cute," she gushed, giggling at Draco's unrelenting pout. God that boy could pout, but where most times it was effective in getting her to cave and do the things he wanted, or his way, right now it just came across as adorable, which probably offended Draco, which only caused him to pout more and thus the vicious cycle of giggles and moping. Lucy looked amused, though that had a lot to do with Ginny's giggle fits.

"There," Lucy announced triumphantly, pulling the cape away with a flourish some time later. "I think you look marvelous," she beamed.

"Of course I do," Draco, not having seen himself yet, quipped as though there shouldn't have been any doubt in anyone mind that that wouldn't be the case, that familiar arrogance of his Ginny loved so much peeking through a little to make Ginny's insides squirm.

"Well?" Ginny prompted, Draco still not having bothered to look at himself yet, like he was so assured that he looked smashing that he didn't have to see for himself…he didn't want her to know he was actually just nervous. Lucy had spun him around so his back was to the wall of mirrors and after standing he had not turned.

Ginny was smiling at him and Lucy seemed pleased, so he was sure he didn't look terrible. If he turned around, however, and discovered he had pink hair and a pixie cut or something, he was going to start punching people. He loved Ginny, but he would kick her, hard.

Draco turned and saw his reflection, and stared.

"The color suits you," Lucy complemented, fluffing at the ends of Draco's hair affectionately, "and it is still long, down your back even though I took off a good thirty centimeters," she said.

"You are looking yummy, Draco," Ginny assured, Draco able to see her smile in the mirror.

His hair was still long, but no longer down to his bum; it ended just past the center of his back now. It was also blond again for the first time in ten years. He actually looked a lot like his father, more than he had before and that was saying something. He had his mother's pointed features but he had his father's strong chin. Looking in the mirror he saw his father, and it startled him.

"Wow," he said, tucking his hair behind his ear as he leaned just a little closer.

"I say, I think he likes it," Lucy teased, walking over to the front desk, Ginny following, to deal with the bill.

Bundled up again they left the salon and Draco was stuck between pouting still for the embarrassment he had to endure, and being thankful for the gift.

"How much did that cost you?" he asked.

"It's impolite to ask how much a gift cost, didn't your parent's teach you anything?" she mocked, knowing how proper Draco had been raised.

"Sixty pounds!" he exclaimed and Ginny tried to pinch him, but it was hard to do with gloves and his winter cloak.

"Stay out of my mind, you prat!"

"That's ridiculous, that's outrageous," he complained.

"It's a gift, so stop complaining."

"They cut a few hairs and rub some paste in your hair with a rinse afterwards and it's worth sixty pounds?"

"You look really nice," Ginny defended.

"Why thank you," Draco said smugly, perfectly calm, no hit of outrage lingering.

"Prat," she muttered, bumping into him slightly with her shoulder, hands deep in her pockets.

They sat in the fenced-in seating of an outdoor diner. It was awfully cold to eat outside, but with the white Christmas lights wound around the black-iron fence, the seating raised up above the sidewalk a few feet so their elbows where shoulder high to anyone passing, the snow all around them and the quiet, it was terribly romantic, even on a Sunday morning.

"So we agree then? We will go out on a date on Valentine's day?" he asked, sipping at his coffee.

"This seems so wrong," she sighed.

"We could just not see each other," he grumbled.

"No," Ginny said firmly, unknowingly stroking Draco's ego with her vigor. "I just, I wish I could travel into the future, you know, and just exist in a time after all this mess is dealt with and everyone has finally accepted this and has moved on so we can just enjoy ourselves."

"I think you are being terribly optimistic with the idea that there will be a time when everyone will be tolerant and happy for us," Draco said, drawing out the word "terribly" a bit for emphasis as his eyes widened briefly at her naivety.

"I'm an optimist, and you are a pessimist, but I don't point that out and make it out as some sort of flaw in you."

"I'm not a pessimist, I'm a realist." He smirked and she scrunched her nose at him.

He sipped at his coffee and Ginny sighed.

"You didn't eat breakfast before you left, did you?"

"No," he answered, looking at her from over his coffee cup.

"Then why didn't you order anything now?" she asked.

"Because I will be eating later, with the children," he answered.

"Draco, normal people eat several times a day," she sighed. Draco looked away. "Why don't you ever eat?" she asked.

"I'm never hungry," he mumbled, not wanting to talk about this.

"Surely you have to have more of an appetite than this. I don't recall you ever skipping meals at Hogwarts or anything."

"You kept that close a tab on me?" he drawled defensively.

"You are not refusing food, are you?" she asked.

"What?"

"You are not choosing to not eat?" she elaborated.

"You think I'm starving myself?" he asked, blinking at her.

"Well, you look pretty starved," she reasoned.

"Ouch, my crippled self-esteem," he grumbled, turning his coffee cup in his hands as it sat on the glass-topped table, warming his naked fingers with it.

"I don't mean to turn this into an attack on how you look, Draco, I'm just curious as to why you never eat. Your mother is worried about it, and I can honestly say that I understand that now having spent the last week with you."

"I eat, just not a lot," he muttered down at his coffee.

"Why?"

Draco was quite for a long moment.

"Draco…"

"Because I'm not hungry," he said again, a little moodily.

"There is more to it than that," she accused and Draco looked down at his coffee. He knew he was a little on the scrawny side, but how could he explain this to Ginny and not frighten her? It frightened him.

He took a deep breath.

"Sometimes it's hard to eat, when what you crave is often still alive and person shaped," he said quietly and Ginny blinked at him.

"You crave raw meat?" she asked. Draco said nothing. It was more than just a bit of raw meat, he often fantasized about eating people, and that was a serious appetite killer most of the time. "My brother Bill prefers his meat on the rare side," she said, attempting to show some understanding. Bill was tainted, he had a few of the characteristics, a few of the cravings, but he didn't let it get to him. By the look of Draco's emaciated appearance, it looked like it bothered him a great deal. "You can't not eat just because you don't like what it is your body longs for," she argued.

"Would you be so accepting and supportive if I ate a few children? A neighbor's pet at the very least?" he snapped, defensive and angsty all of a sudden. He had a talent for that.

"Draco, no. But, you can't be ashamed of what you are. You don't have to embrace it to the extent Greyback did, but you could just not cook your meat or something…you really do need to eat…" she said, looking at him with sad eyes. This was not the first time she had gotten the impression that Draco seriously hated himself, but she had no idea he would be so self destructive.

"I used to be hungry, I'm just… not…anymore."

"I think it's when starvation sets in that your body stops being hungry, Draco," Ginny said, concern very apparent on her face.

"It's just…I'm not accustomed to eating a lot. Azkaban doesn't feed well and I was hungry for a while, then I just got used to it. I got out and I just continued to eat only a little, then that became less and less over time," he said, trying to sound unconcerned.

"You're going to make yourself sick," she warned grimly.

"Because I am the picture of health otherwise," Draco retorted.

"I'm sure being extremely underweight is not helping any."

"I'm not extremely underweight," he pouted.

"How much do you weigh?" she demanded.

"I don't know."

"I can tell you, you look like you weigh less than a fifth year student at Hogwarts. That's just too skinny. I'm going to order you something to eat, and you are going to eat it," she said firmly. Was she turning into her mother?

"If I try to eat too much I get a stomach ache," he whined in a last-ditch attempt to break her down with his pouty-mope face and tone.

"That's because you body doesn't know what to do with more than a mouthful of food. I'll order you something small. We will start slow and maybe we can get you up to two whole meals a day," she teased though her serious concern was still there. She was not about to be detoured by Draco's pouting bottom lip. He was good, but he was no match for her stubbornness, no matter how soft and piteous he managed to frown his eyes to become.

"I worry you that much?" he asked sheepishly.

"Hey, you're my boyfriend, I'm obligated to care and worry. A few extra pounds would do you some good, and you wont be so cold all the time, or tired," she assured.

Ginny got waffles with syrup and butter, and Draco got a bowl of oatmeal. Draco teased her, saying if she was so worried about his weight, and hers too, that he should be the one eating the waffles and she should be eating the oatmeal.

Ginny kicked him under the table, hard, and called him a prat.

Ginny shared a few bites off her plate, and while Draco was still leaned over the table, she stole a kiss. A bright flash went off beside them along with a puff of purple smoke and Ginny and Draco pulled away suddenly to look over, startled.

"Finally," a man with an acid-green winter cap on said. "Ex-Mrs. Potter caught snogging Death Eater and Werewolf Draco Malfoy at Muggle eatery," he said as though already narrating the article that would go along with the photo he just took. "Have anything you would like to say? Statements?" the licorice man urged, and Draco noticed a Quick-Quotes Quill etching away near the man's hip, hidden from view from the Muggles by his bag.

"Oh God," Ginny gasped. Draco got up and hopped over the fence gracefully, landing and coming to stand next to the man with the camera.

"Give me the film," he demanded, holding out his partially gloved hand.

"Draco Malfoy, are you aware that Ginny Weasley is still in an illustrious relationship with Reamann Rossiter?" the man asked, voice inquisitive yet strong as he backed up, holding up his camera.

"Give me the film," Draco repeated.

"Do you have a statement about the dance you two shared at the Remembrance Ball last week?" he asked, snapping a picture in Draco's face when Draco neared too close.

"Get that camera out of my face now and give me that goddamn film," Draco growled.

"How long have you two been dating?" the man asked, stumbling a little as Draco took a swipe at the camera. "Hey, you touch me and I will sue, for assault. I'm just doing my job," the man shouted, pointing at Draco and holding his camera down and behind himself slightly so that Draco could not get at it. Ginny was gathering up her purse, in a state of panic, and rounded the fence to try and talk to the wizard.

"Please," she begged, looking at him with his big, soft brown eyes.

"Ginny Weasley, you were caught smooching Draco Malfoy and have been recorded referring to each other as girlfriend and boyfriend. I have Malfoy already quoted as saying you are dating him on the bus. Do you have a statement for me? While the quill is still jotting away?" the man asked, lifting the camera to snap a quick picture.

"You little bastard," Draco growled, taking a swing at the man. The photographer stumbled and shoved his camera and hovering quill and parchment away into his bag in one smooth motion.

"You are going to regret that, Malfoy. This is going out whether you like it or not, and you just sweetened the price for my story. No longer is it just about your little romance, but about your renowned temper as well!" the man shouted, pointing at Draco. "See if that paints a pretty picture of you, Death Eater," the man spat before running off. Draco and Ginny were left standing there, the Muggles all gossiping about the scene they had just witnessed.

"Are they famous?"

"Where do we know them from?"

"I think I saw him on one of my soaps last week," they muttered, thinking Ginny and Draco must have been some sort of Muggle actor or celebrity.

Draco was left breathing hard through his nose in anger, hands balled into fists at his side. Ginny was slightly behind him, hyperventilating.

"Oh God," she managed, tears starting to well up in her eyes.

Draco turned to her and hushed her softly, wrapping his arms around her to hug her tight with her head tucked under his chin securely.

"It will be…awright," he lied, hating that he was lying, knowing it was pointless, they both knew it was not going to be alright but him being at a total loss of how to sooth her.

"He works for the Prophet," she sobbed.

"Witch Weekly, actually," Draco corrected, but realizing after the fact that he was not being helpful as Ginny sobbed.

"Oh God, oh God," she cried.

"Come on, let's get off the street," he soothed, pulling Ginny along. She knew where a close Apparition point was so they would bypass the bus this time. That was fine with Draco. He wanted to barricade himself up in his home and never come out again as quick as possible.

----------------------

Draco did his best to enjoy his day with Michelangelo, but it was difficult. Michelangelo and Clarissa had complemented him on his hair, liking and approving the change apparently. They were not, however, content with staying in. They wanted to go to the park and Draco very much so wanted to stay in doors, far from people, and wizards, and reporters with cameras. It being Michelangelo's day to do what he liked though, Draco did what he wanted.

He needed to work on his "no means no" still.

Draco stood under a bare tree, smoking a cigarette as Michelangelo kicked a football around on the path and Clarissa built a snowman. Draco kept looking out of the corners of his eyes, thinking every Muggle strolling by was a wizarding reporter about to snap his picture.

Michelangelo bounced his ball on his knee with practiced ease, oblivious to his father's discomfort but knowing he was smoking again while Clarissa was oblivious even to that. He didn't like that his dad was smoking, but said nothing, knowing his father had only broken his resolution to not smoke in the past when really stressed out or upset, and figured that was the case again now.

Draco noticed movement and looked over and was caught in a perfect leaning pose for the photographer. Draco was leaning his shoulder against the tree, ankles crossed, arms folded over his chest with his right hand holding his cigarette part way to his lips. Draco knew the familiar cloud of purple smoke and glared but said or did nothing. His children were nearby. They had hats and winter gear on so that they were not easily recognized, but he did not want to cause a scene and have them wonder and ask. All he needed was for one of them to say "Daddy" to make Witch Weekly's story that much more sensational.

Draco whispered into his children's minds to be quiet and to ignore him. He assured them not to worry as he wandered away to leave them alone amidst the bright snow and strangers.

The photographer followed as Draco smoked and strolled, stopping to watch more children play. He did not know these children but he was trying to make it seem like he had not known Michelangelo and Clarissa either. Would Witch Weakley get the impression that he was a pederast? Surely his reputation could not suffer much more.

Draco glanced over at the wizard with the camera and glared. If they wanted a shot of him looking mean and surly, they would get it.

"Are you quite finished?" he asked after nearly ten minutes of being not so subtly tailed by the man.

"You have a statement for me?" he asked.

"Yes, I do," Draco said, taking one last dreg of his cigarette. The man seemed to perk up while holding his camera at ready, prepared to snap a candid photo at any moment. "Fuck you," he said brightly, flicking the butt at the man.

The man brushed at the front of his cloak a little and glared before heading off.

Draco had sacrificed a little dignity to quench the man's desire for a sound bite, so that he would leave. Draco nabbed the opportunity to head back to his children, gather them up, and take them home.

Michelangelo wanted to know what was wrong, and Clarissa was a little upset about having to leave, her father's unease and fast pace only adding to her anxiety.

"We are going to spend the rest of the day warming up at home, awright? I'll make you some hot chocolate with extra marshmallows," he said, looking around quickly, worried about who might be watching as he powerwalked with his children, Clarissa practically having to run to keep up.

He had known from the moment he and Ginny had met that morning to talk about their relationship and think of options, that keeping his children a secret from the world would be an impossibility. He had hoped, however, to have more time, to explain things to them, to get them comfortable with the idea, to train them to handle situations and answer questions, to ease them into the limelight, not have it chasing after them with flashbulbs and intrusive questions.

Draco knew how to take care of himself, and if he were just a single chap, not a single father, he would handle this whole mess so differently…but having to think of his children first, it limited just how many cameras he could smash and photographers he was allowed to punch in the face.

Home again, Draco walked in to the sound of his phone ringing. That was a first for him. He blinked for a moment before running over to it and scooping the receiver up from the floor in his hand.

"Malfoy," he answered, unsure of whom could be calling him at four-thirty in the afternoon. Reamann was at work.

"Draco," Ginny sobbed.

"Ginny, hey," he said soothingly, Michelangelo's eyes darkening at Draco's greeting, not happy that she was calling on his day.

"Have you been out today…since this morning?" she asked, sobbing.

"For a moment. Why?" he asked.

"God, I must have had my picture taken a hundred times. The wizard paparazzi caught the scent of blood in the water and they are swarming now for a picture," she cried.

"I saw one tailing me at the park," Draco muttered, Michelangelo looking over at him, curious now, maybe about to learn why they had left the park so abruptly and the cause behind his father's smoking and unease. Draco turned around to try and exclude his son from the conversation and show he wanted some privacy. Michelangelo just stood there, trying to eavesdrop still.

"Oh God, this is going to be all over publications by tomorrow," she sobbed.

"I wouldn't be surprised if those piranhas are not pushing for the night edition," he scathed.

"Oh God, what are we going to do? My mother flipped out over the article after the Remembrance Ball, and all we were caught doing was dance!" she cried. Draco flushed a little at the memory because they had been caught doing a whole lot more than "dance" that night, but thankfully not by the paparazzi, and not by her family. Draco felt fait at the thought.

"Should we try and talk to them? Before this gets out?" he asked, meaning Ginny's family, and Ginny just cried over the phone.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Michelangelo asked. Draco was stuck and feeling conflicted. What was he to do? He was supposed to be spending the day with his son, but he needed to take the time to comfort his hysterical girlfriend.

"Ginny, breathe, breathe," Draco commanded, though gently.

"They are going to kill me," she cried, speaking of her parents most likely, barely audible through her tears on the phone.

"Oh, no they won't," he sighed.

"They will! They are going to kill me!" she exclaimed.

"That leaves very little hope for me then, right?" he attempted to joke and Ginny just sobbed harder.

"What's going on?" Clarissa asked, joining them now. Draco sighed and sat down on the couch, still all bundled up and lacing his free hand into his freshly washed hair.

"Ginny, please, please don't cry. I don't know how to make this better," he begged, hating it when women cried. It made him want to do anything they wanted just so they would stop. His mother and daughter knew this and exploited it often, but he could not give Ginny what she wanted so badly.

"Please don't get off the phone with me, please," she begged.

"I wasn't about to hang up or anything," Draco assured.

"They have been calling all afternoon, trying to secure some sort of interview or statement," she sobbed. "I have never been as big of a celebrity as Harry, I do not have PR people," she sobbed.

"Potter has Public Relations people?" Draco asked, a little shocked.

"They handle all the gossip and keep him from getting incessant phone calls and stuff. They are also the ones that go out and denounce tabloid rumors and…"

"I know what a PR team does; I'm just surprised that Potter has one. What a prick," he said and Ginny sobbed. "Gin…Gin, stop crying," he begged.

"That's the first time you have called me Gin," she sniffled and Draco blinked.

"Ginny?"

"I like it when you call me Gin," she said meekly. Draco managed a smile despite himself.

"Gin, please stop crying."

"Reamann is going to be home in a few hours," Ginny sniffled. "What am I going to do?"

"Hide?" he suggested, not being serious, well, being serious but keeping his tone light. He certainly wanted to hide.

"I'm going over the Hermione's," Ginny announced suddenly.

"You sure that's wise?"

"I can't stay here; I can't go and be with you because that would only add to the fodder. I'll call you later," she assured.

"You take care of yourself," Draco sighed.

"I will. I love you," she replied.

"Love you too," he answered, hanging up the phone then.

Clarissa giggled.

"You said you love her," she sniggered.

"Why is Ginny upset?" Michelangelo asked over his sister's continuing giggles.

"There was a little mess with a reporter harassing Ginny," Draco sighed.

"What's their angle?" he asked.

"Relationships," Draco said, rubbing his forehead as though to try and sooth his headache.

"Oh," Michelangelo muttered, understanding then the dilemma.

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Author's Note:

Draco cut his hair, and the shit certainly it the fan in this chapter. What started out so fluffy got real angsty real fast. Poor Draco is sad because his baby is going away. I finally truly addressed Draco's eating habits. He is, what I jokingly call, "accidentally anorexic".

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