Unofficial Portkey Archive

Blue-Eyed Angel

Chapter Twenty-six

Narcissa and Clarissa came home to find Draco alone, or in company of only Frank who had taken to perching on his head again, and Leak, who Draco had taken to carrying around with him. Sebastian was gone and Draco was not dead, so he had obviously agreed to Draco's proposal/threat. Draco was not feeling bad about this, mostly because he couldn't feel much of anything still after the Valium, but was certainly not feeling good, though that was largely due to his mother standing before him holding a copy of Witch Weekly. She was far more intimidating than Sebastian, even with his wand drawn and threats made.

Draco flinched every time his mother smacked him with the rolled up publication.

"Did I not tell you? This is a disaster! Everyone is talking about it! I was on the platform and could hear them talking all around me!" she scolded, having been covered up to conceal her identity so as to drop Michelangelo off without people making a connection between him and the Malfoys. That, however, also allowed her to move about without people keeping their voices down as they talked about the article, an article she had been unaware of until that morning.

"How could you be so foolish and irresponsible?" she cried.

"Mother, please, stop swatting me," Draco begged, not even raising an arm to block and protect himself. His mother was not whapping him hard, but still, it smarted a little. Ginny appeared suddenly by Apparition in the middle of Draco's living room and Narcissa froze in the middle of rapping her son over the head.

"Ginny?" he asked, stomach tight.

"Draco," she said, not registering Narcissa in the room, just rushing to Draco and curling against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug, letting her lean heavily into him.

"Gin," he said, stomach unclenching slightly. Surely she couldn't have spoken to Réamann yet if she was hugging him. Even if she didn't believe what Réamann would have told her she probably would have wanted answers and verbal reassurances, not hugs, not at first at least, right?

"Oh, today has been just…horrible," she sobbed.

"I know. I'm sorry. I did not mean to make such a mess of everything," he whispered softly to her, his nose in her hair that smelled like strawberries, sweet but a little tart at the same time. He loved it when she left that scent on his pillows and/or on his body after they made love. That smell alone was enough to sooth him considerably. Scent was a very important sense to a werewolf.

"It's not your fault, this was all my idea. Really, I feel terrible for doing all this to you. What are you going to do about the media, and your children?" she sobbed.

"My life and my children were bound to be exposed eventually, I was only fooling myself into believing I could hide from the world forever. But really, privacy is not a possibility for any of us from the Order," he said and his mother gave him a dirty look. "I couldn't keep them hidden forever, and it was cruel and even more unfair to them to try," he assured.

"Oh God, I couldn't even bear the thought of work today. Did you go? I tried calling but no one answered and thought maybe you had gotten hounding calls like me and had since stopped picking up."

"No to the calls, yes to the work. I only went for a short while though. Come here, sit down," he said, releasing her from his embrace only enough to guide her over to the couch. Narcissa looked furious at being ignored and Draco gave her an apologetic "can we have some space?" look. Narcissa tightened her grip on the rolled up magazine and pursed her lips. She stormed out of the room, to fuss in the kitchen and drink her bourbon.

"Oh, my family is furious. I must have gotten, no joke, fifteen Howlers! My ears are still ringing! I don't even want to think about what my first talk with Réamann is going to be like."

"So you haven't heard from him yet?" he asked, holding her close as they sat.

"No," she breathed, Draco able to relax just a touch knowing that.

"I would suggest staying away from him for a while, to allow him to calm down some," he said awkwardly. Ginny looked up at him then and her eyes widened.

"Oh my God, Draco, your eye! Did Réamann do this?" she asked, reaching up to could turn his face so she could see his bruise better but he leaned back to keep his chin out of reach. "He hit you?" she asked, sounding horrified and appalled.

"I expected no less. Did you?"

"He shouldn't have hit you! Oh, I'm so sorry!"

"This is as much my fault as yours, Gin, so don't keep apologizing. You didn't twist my arm, I wanted to do this, I wanted to be with you, no matter what that meant or what the repercussions would be," he said softly, not meaning he "wanted" to be punched but hopefully getting the point across. He hugged her tight to his chest again so she couldn't keep staring guiltily at his bruised face. He had not gotten the chance to see it yet. Was it that bad?

"I blackmailed you, remember?" she asked, trying to be lighthearted and referring back to what he had accused her of when he had first agreed. Draco and Ginny jumped a little at the sound of a pot being dropped in the kitchen at that and Draco told his mother to stop eavesdropping and that Ginny had not actually blackmailed him, it was a joke.

Honestly, his mother had good intentions and cared, but she was so nosey.

"I…I don't know what to do," she sobbed, falling right back into her fretful despair and tears. "How can I face my family now?"

"Give them time to deal with this on their own, then offer explanations when they are willing to listen," he advised, speaking smoothly while stroking her long hair slowly.

"Explain what? I mean, they have every right to be mad, and upset, and shocked…I mean, what we did was exactly what Witch Weekly claims: we…I had an affair! How can I explain that?"

"By telling them why, and telling them what you told me when you asked me to see you. Tell them you felt trapped, tell them you felt unhappy and lonely, tell them you felt guilty deceiving everyone around you."

"They won't listen. They won't see it the way I do and just think I'm making excuses," she sobbed.

"They are your family; they are required to love you, unconditionally. Maybe, because they are so…officious…they will need a little more time to cool down than most, but they will come around."

"Not so long as I'm seeing you," she cried and Draco stiffened.

"You do not want to see me anymore, in hopes that your family will take you back?" he asked, feeling just a little queasy.

"No, no," she cried and he felt only a little relieved. "But I feel like I'm in a position to choose either you or them and I can't, I just can't…"

"They can't be that bad," Draco argued, though not exactly jumping at the prospect of meeting them himself. He kind of liked having testicles and would like to keep them if he could. "You have a wonderful and loving family," he assured, having only witnessed their internal love a few times, and from afar, but able to recognize it regardless.

"I feel sick," she whined.

"That's guilt," he said, able to know exactly what she was feeling, "and though it feels yucky, it's good that you are experiencing it. It shows that you are a good person. You are not just feeling bad about being caught; you are feeling bad for hurting those you care about. You are a good person Ginny, and your family knows that. They will remember that…in time."

Ginny sniffled and sobbed for a while and Draco rocked her gently. He felt guilty too. Being the cause of so many of Ginny's tears made him feel bad. He never wanted to be the reason behind another of her tears again. He wanted her to stop crying.

Clarissa came in at that point after having changed out of her school clothes, her fashion doll in one hand, a purple plastic comb in the other, looking concerned. She was dressed in a black jumper with brightly colored geometric shapes worked into its chest, faded-black denims and thick purple socks. Her hair was down and curling everywhere, kept out of her face by a bright pink headband

"Is everything alright?" she asked timidly, already having fussed over Draco's eye when she first came home and saw it. She had stomped and cried and swore bloody-vengeance on the one responsible. Draco had been comforted by that, but had to remind her to be kind and act like a little lady.

Draco smiled at her and opened up his right arm to welcome her to join them on the couch. Clarissa jumped at the opportunity and Draco sat there, snuggled between the two women he loved. If only he had a third arm for his mother to occupy so she would feel less displaced and a fourth for Michelangelo, then his life would be just that much easier.

"Don't cry, Ginny," Clarissa pleaded, talking softly from around her father. Ginny sniffled and smiled at her with teary eyes.

"Hey there, you," she said, trying to sound upbeat.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I will be…"

"In time," Draco assured.

"You here so Daddy can make you feel better?" she asked and Ginny nodded while looking at the little girl, snuggling closer against Draco. Clarissa then did the same so that their faces were close while their cheeks pressed against Draco's bony chest. "You know what always makes me feel better?" she prompted.

"What?" Ginny asked, feeling quite comforted at the moment by the girl and Draco's very slow heartbeat beneath her ear.

"Daddy singing to me," she said and they both felt Draco shift.

"Claire, sweet pea, really, I couldn't…" he tried but Clarissa just pulled away enough to look up at him.

"Come on, Daddy, you haven't sung to Ginny yet," she accused like it was some great travesty and crime that he hadn't, speaking in her grumpy baby voice that she reserved just for Draco, knowing how it crippled him so.

"I know, but," he sighed and Clarissa was already rolling off the couch and trotting towards the hall. "Claire," he called and Ginny just held tight to Draco trying to assure him with her eyes that it was okay. Clarissa reappeared, obviously coming from Draco's room because she had his new guitar.

"Here," she said, thrusting the instrument at him. Ginny quickly leaned back so as not to be hit by the guitar's neck. "Sing to Ginny to make her feel better," she commanded but in tones so sweet it was hard to try and say no or scold her for being bossy.

Draco looked over at Ginny, then back at Clarissa, then over Clarissa's shoulder to his mother who was standing in the kitchen doorway, her arms crossed casually as she leaned there, willowy and tall, a glass held in one of her delicate hands.

He heaved a sigh.

"Fine, awright," he said, giving in. Clarissa looked excited and hopped a little while turning. "Nana, let's bake cookies," she said, skipping over to Narcissa and pulling at the edge of her crisp, black, parlor jacket, wanting to give her father and Ginny some privacy. Narcissa just looked very intently at Draco and Ginny for a moment longer before agreeing with a smile down at her granddaughter and disappearing into the kitchen.

"She certainly has a way with you," Ginny smiled, feeling so much less sad already.

"Clarissa is a hopeless romantic at the age of eleven," he sighed though he was smiling. "She believes in "Happily Ever After" and "Prince Charming" and lives by the convictions of Disney romances."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"Or realistic," he sighed, not smiling then.

"You are my Prince Charming," she offered, teasingly but serious at the same time. He was charming, and as prince-like as you were likely to find nowadays.

"Frog Prince maybe," he sniggered.

"Stop putting yourself down, it's ridiculous," she scolded while nudging him with her elbow. She knew most of the time he didn't even realize he did it, like it was habitual. She needed to break him of that, he was so much better than he allowed himself to believe. "So what are you gonna sing me?" she asked eagerly.

"Oh, I suppose a love song would be most appropriate," he mumbled, smirking, though not as confidently as normal.

"Oh yes," she begged, leaning her head on his shoulder, "and so dreamy too."

Draco took a deep breath while shifting his guitar.

"I can't deny I haven't thought about surprising you with a song, a bed full of rose petals, strawberries dipped in chocolate and candlelight…but I could never afford all that romance. Would you settle for just a song, on my settee while my daughter bakes cookies in the other room with my mother?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes, "having my boyfriend sing me a love song, without candles and roses and chocolates, in silken sheets? How can anyone call it romance?" she joked and it was Draco's turn to nudge Ginny with his elbow.

"Oh hush now, before I lose my nerve and reconsider doing this," he said, looking down at the guitar as though mildly intimidated by it, or maybe just the task at hand.

He was so nervous and the memory that washed over him took him by surprise.

The night was bitter cold. Three days until the final battle, no one was thinking that far into the future or knew of what was to come. It was here and now with which they were concerned. The giants demanded everyone's full attention, but the werewolves on their way would try and compete with that, and honestly, they might beat them out when it came to what was most perilous.

The sun was gone from the sky, just a pink smear at the horizon where the Dark Lord's deathly castle known as Lonely Keep loomed as a silhouette in the dying light. It should have been beautiful but somehow managed not to be. The sky was deep blue, clouds purple, the moon rising full and bright over the trees. There was enough moonlight that there were night shadows, but even so, fires were scattered across the snow, illuminating the scene further for the Order out that night.

"Look out!" Hermione screamed as she grabbed Ron's collar and pulled him backwards. It was hard for a twenty foot giant to sneak up on someone, even someone as sometimes dense as Ron Weasley, but coming around a tree that edged the hollow, with such an impressive reach and a tree trunk in hand wielded like a club only increasing said reach, the giant did not need to get that close.

Ron fell backwards atop of Hermione in the snow just as the giant swung, taking out the tree Ron had been using as shelter.

"Thanks Hermione," Ron gasped, both scurrying to their feet.

"We can't take on so many of them! They are resistant to magic!" she shouted over all the noise. There were at least twenty giants in the hollow that night, and the Order was not that great in number. As talented a group they were, giants were just so massive and powerful, even if they could somehow overtake them, or just a few of them if they teamed up on them one at a time, there were still the werewolves coming to deal with.

"We could fall back. They won't follow us into the trees."

"But the werewolves will," she shouted, running with Ron to keep out of the giant's reach as it took another swing at them and grunted low and loudly. The only thing that saved them was the fact that giants were not terribly smart or fast. It was quite obvious their intentions as they worked things out in their minds and problem solved, and they were incapable of running, moving at a fast walk at best, their massive strides making up for their lack of speed and stamina. They were not stupid like trolls, but they certainly were not clever.

"But we…" Ron tried to say but gasped in surprise as they were nearly struck from behind by a second giant, one that was coming up fast and had managed to surprise them as it stepped over the fire that had been to their back.

"Shit!" Hermione gasped, sending a hex at its eye and hoping to scare it back. The giant screamed in pain and stomped. It took its anger out on Ron and Hermione blindly, and they would have been crushed for sure if a streaking shape hadn't cut through the air and scooped them each around the middle to carry them off in that exact and opportune moment.

Draco zoomed off, low to the ground, his left arm hooked around Ron's middle, his right around Hermione's, legs all that held and steered his broom. He flew them feet above the ground, out of harm's way, before slowing and releasing them, letting them fall into the snow as he hovered.

They looked up at him as Draco turned on his broom to face the other way, a little higher up now so that he was looking down at them.

"Oi, watch yourselves," he warned but in a frustrated manner rather than concerned. His shoulder-length hair was whipping around in the cold wind as were his robes, cloak and scarf. He was having trouble maintaining a steady breath and knew he could not stick it out with them through the battle, and he did not want their stupididty or carelessness offing them when he wouldn't be around to save their butts.

"Malfoy, where is the backup we were told was coming? I see no one but the Order out here with us," Hermione called, having been assured by both Lupin and McGonagall that there would be more coming to help. They had not been told more than that, and now they were growing anxious as they waited for their undisclosed help. They knew Draco had met with both McGonagall and Lupin privately, but did not know the nature of the meeting. They thought maybe Draco knew where the help was, and he did, but he wasn't about to tell them. He didn't want, or need, them to know about his condition or role in the negotiations with the werewolves, and he did not feel they deserved to know anyways.

"I do not answer to you," he said, turning and flying off on his Nimbus 2001 to deal with the rest of the Order while he still could. Harry was somewhere out there in the hollow and Draco did not want to meet up with him. He had apparently said nothing about him turning on the Order, (otherwise Hermione and Ron wouldn't have turned to him for answers and they would have undoubtedly verbally attacked him if not physically or magically just then) but what would Potter do if he saw him on the field that night? Draco did not care to find out.

He flew off, panting, feeling a familiar and frightening weight press down on him. He knew the change was coming, and coming fast, but every month he prayed it would somehow pass and leave him human. So far he hadn't been so lucky.

It was difficult to keep his balance on his broom while feeling so nauseous, so he glided down and landed, not far from a certain redhead that had showed him kindness on several occasions previously since he had joined up with the Order.

Ginny was shoulder to shoulder with three other members of the Order and Draco saw them collectively trying to hex a giant. It was good that they realized teamwork was key to taking down a giant, but unfortunate that there were so few of them to aid in the attempt. Draco wanted to draw his wand, offer his aid, but he doubled over at the crippling cramps that overtook him right then.

"Oh God," he moaned, clenching his eyes closed tight, leaning on his broom for support in the snow.

The pain passed after a moment and he knew the change was about to happen.

He needed to get away.

Draco turned to stumble into the woods where he could be out of sight, his broom dropped to the snow, wand still away. Wolfsbane was in his system but that barely offered any ease for his violent changes. He would have helped Ginny and the other Order members if he could, but all he could do at the moment was help himself. He was no use to anyone if he got smushed by a giant while he was helpless during his transformation.

Giants were roaring all over the hollow, but Draco turned to the one closest, the one Ginny was hexing, when it roared and stomped. Ginny dropped her wand arm, panting, drained and exhausted from her failed attempt to take down the giant. It reached down and scooped up a frosted boulder near its feet. Ginny gasped, the other members fleeing. She wanted to move but her legs were not listening to her in that lingering moment of panic and the cold.

Draco, realizing Ginny was dead if he did not do something, rushed towards her, stupidly. Seriously risking his own safety and life, he dove at her, tackling her around the middle just as the wounded giant threw the massive rock. Draco and Ginny fell into the snow, him on top of her, sinking in a deep drift. Ginny was pressed into the snow like she was going to make a snow angel, Draco's weight on top of her. He looked down at her for a moment through his loose hair as it hung between them, surprised at the position he suddenly found himself in, but did not have time to appreciate how beautiful her red hair looked in the firelight atop the smooth white snow.

The giant was bearing down on them and he was pinned.

The ends of his cloak were trapped under the boulder, that's how close he had come to being crushed to save Ginny. Ginny slid out from under him as he reared back to be kneeling in the snow. She ripped open the front of his cloak as he struggled out of it, popping off buttons and ripping clasps from the wooly material to get out of the way quickly. Ginny grabbed him by the hand and pulled him hard towards her, the giant just missing him by a second as it slammed its bleeding hands down on the ground next to the boulder it had chucked.

Ginny pulled Draco along, him now only in his scarf, black jumper, trousers, and lightweight robes, too caught up in all that was happening to be cold at the moment, though it was so freezing he would likely die without realizing he was even chilled.

Draco allowed Ginny to drag him along for a few feet, but pulled his hand away and backed up.

"Malfoy, come on, we have to find a group, we need to team up to take down…" she tried but he was just backing up. They had not yet shared their moment together, their night. They did not have any connection yet, other than he felt this longing for her that confused and scared him. All they had at the moment was that she had been kind to him in the past week, and they were fighting for a common goal, or at least they were fighting a common enemy. He had just saved her life, she had just saved his, but with all the fighting, no one was really keeping track.

"I have to go," he said.

"Malfoy!" she screamed at him.

"I'm sorry, I, I can't stay here," he panted, sweat on his forehead despite the harshness of the cold and the biting wind.

"What?" she yelled but he turned and fled into the trees. "Malfoy! You bloody COWARD!" she screamed at him as he ran off. He felt guilty that he was ditching her, but he was not going far. They would all flee the scene when there werewolves showed up, but that was when the fighting truly would begin for him.

If only she, and the rest of them, understood all he had done for them.

He had killed - for the first time in his life - for them.

Collapsing in the woods, out of sight but not beyond of sound of the fighting, Draco clenched up, panting, moaning and twitching involuntarily. It hurt so badly, but Lupin assured him that in some years, with a steady ingestion of Wolfsbane, it would not be as bad. He then, however, went on to mention that it would start to get bad again, and that was the first indications that the condition was turning fatal.

Draco groaned and cried on his hands and knees in the shallower snow of the woods. It was much darker there, out of the firelight and the moonlight partially obscured by the bare tree branches above him. The moonlight still reached him though, still caressed his skin, still made his eyes contract in a way no human's eyes ever could. Blood dripped into the snow below him and he knew it was from the claw marks he had hidden with a simple illusion that raked the side of his face from earlier, when he had faced Greyback. They would heal because of this change, but they were reopening and bleeding at the moment because of the shift.

He felt his body ripping, even though it literally wasn't. It felt like his skin was splitting and his bones jutting out. It felt like his muscles were tearing and popping, but none of that was real. His body was shifting but it was all internal and waterlike, no where near as graphic as he imagined it just going by how it felt.

It was excruciating, and none-too-fast. He felt his robes and clothing fall away and he had no mind to even think about what that meant, that he could possibly lose his wand, his broom already discarded at the edge of the woods, probably not too far from where he was now.

Letting out a long yell that ended in a howl, Draco pushed himself off the snowy ground and shook out like a wet dog. He could feel his fur ruffle and the sensation was always so odd. He doubted he would ever get used to it. He also had a new appendage. He swished it from side to side a few times, getting a feel for his tail. He tweaked his ears, shuffled on his now four grounded feet, and sniffed the air. He could smell the fires now in a way he hadn't been able to before. He could smell the giants, and the trees, and the snow. He could hear everything so much clearer now, the fighting, the shouting, the grunting. He could also hear, in the distance, the pounding of a lot of fast moving feet.

They were coming.

Ginny was out in the hollow, still in her stand against the giants. There were screams, however, that had nothing to do with the fighting and she looked over to see dark shapes gliding across the show.

Dementors?

No, she could hear their feet pounding the ground.

Werewolves.

They where coming from the castle, and the battle was lost for the night. They had to retreat because they could not face the wolves and hope to live. They would be torn apart!

Ginny backed up, but sounds from behind her caused her to gasp and turn. She screamed though she covered her mouth. There were werewolves standing at the edge of the trees; maybe sixty or more of them, she could not tell in the light. They stood there perfectly still, having obviously just come from the woods, but their collective posture and silence making it seem like they had just appeared there.

They were surrounded.

"They are behind us!" someone in the hollow shouted, the fire and moonlight making it easy to see the hazards all around them. Giants dotted the valley like moving mountains, and werewolves now flanked them on both sides. What hope did they have of escape now? The Dark Lord must have been laughing himself sick while watching from his castle vantage point over the scene. It was won for him, surely.

Ginny looked at the werewolves closest to her, fearful to move and draw attention to herself. One dark one howled, and the rest followed suit. The wolves in the distance howled in reply, their calls echoing in the night. With much barking and scrambling, the wolves emerging from the woods charged at the werewolves coming from the castle. The Order stood, the wolves passing them by, leaving them unharmed. It was like they were rocks in a stream, the wolves just flowing around them like water, and they were left in awe and wonderment as the werewolves from the woods seemed to defend them.

In the middle of the hollow they clashed like conflicting tides. They crashed and there was instantly scrapping and fighting, and clawing and ripping. Growls, howls and roars cut into the night air as the Order backed up, ready to retreat, unsure of what to make of the scene other than Lupin must have finally done it, convinced the werewolves (some of them at least) to join them!

Ginny was relieved that they had some werewolves on their side as she backed up, but behind her, coming up as fast as its trunk-like legs would carry it, a giant raised its massive fists. Ginny turned to it and screamed, but she was not crushed thanks to a slender werewolf leaping in to take on the giant all by its lonesome.

The white wolf shined in the moonlight as it clung to the dark giant's chest. The werewolf barked and growled and dug in its claws as it tore away at the leathery thick skin of the much larger beast.

The giant roared and flailed its arms for a moment before reaching up and grasping the thin wolf in its massive left hand. The werewolf had a mouthful of giant flesh and even though its body was being pulled away, it latched on tight with its teeth and wouldn't let go. The giant ended up pulling a chunk of its own flesh from its chest to get the werewolf off. With an angry grunt of pain, the giant flung the wolf away where it hit a tree with a yip and a whimper as it fell to the snow. It made high-pitched whining sounds, just like any other wounded dog, pitiful to hear as it lay there while struggling to breathe past the pain it was obviously in.

Ginny was on the ground, on her butt, thankful that the werewolf had tried to protect her, but she had been unable to seize the opportunity it had provided to get away, unable to look away. She now felt the poor wolf's attempts had been in vain because she was now, still, in harms way. The giant rounded on her, raising its fists to take its anger and pain out on her.

Ginny tried to scramble out of the way but her body was so slow because of the cold. She looked over her shoulder at the giant nearly on her and screamed. The giant would have crushed her if it hadn't reared back and screamed at that moment too. Ginny was up on her feet now, wishing her legs could run. She saw the giant turn and try and reach up and back and grab the white werewolf that was on its back, digging and slashing into its thick flesh, swishing its tail from side to side as it growled and bit.

The wolf was out of the giant's limited backward reach but it climbed up the thing's flesh to latch onto the back of its head and then climb up over it to reach down over its forehead and start clawing at the eyes while partially upside-down.

The giant positively shrieked as it was blinded by the werewolf.

Ginny backed up as the giant stumbled. The werewolf was firmly grasped and ripped from the giant's head, and again tossed away. It landed with more grace this time, managing to nearly land on its feet, though that hardly mattered in the snow that almost appeared dull beside its luminous coat. Ginny looked at the beast for a long moment as it stood there, panting, seeing into its beautiful pale eyes that were surrounded by the giant's blood. It looked at her while flattening its ears and whined a little and Ginny got the impression that she knew it, him…definitely a him, somehow, from somewhere. He recognized her and looked upset, like she would recognize him.

She wished she could.

The werewolf turned his attention back towards the now blinded giant and growled, bearing his strong and intimidating teeth. He rushed past Ginny and leapt up onto the giant's chest easily, the giant unable to see and block him. The giant, so disoriented already, stumbled and tipped backwards at the werewolves' contact. It shouted and grunted in confusion and maybe even terror as the werewolf dug into it again before it even landed on its back in the snow.

Going for the vulnerable area, the werewolf caused blood to erupt and spray the snow and his beautiful fur. The wolf sank his teeth and claws into the giant's throat and ripped the flesh there apart. The giant's arms flailed and the wolf was hit once but it kept on digging, its head lost down into the wound.

Ginny backed up, stumbled, and fell into the snow watching it. There was fighting all around, werewolves fighting each other and swarming the giants, but she could not rip her eyes away from the white wolf that had single-handedly brought down the giant before her.

The giant grew heavy and limp, no longer struggling, and the head of the werewolf emerged from its throat, blood and flesh dribbling from his jaws, his fur matted wet with all the blood. He reared back, taking a visibly deep breath so that his already large (in comparison to his waist) chest expanded, and roared victoriously while perched atop his concurred giant.

Ginny stared, thankful but horrified, grateful that the beast had saved her, shocked, however, that something so large had been bested by something that seemed so small and fragile in comparison. Ginny never appreciated before just how powerful werewolves were.

This werewolf was certainly something, and she would always remember him.

Draco and Ginny stared at each other, Draco having succumbed to the memory and able to find that memory in Ginny so easily with his Legilimency without intending. She looked at him, realizing he had pulled that memory to the surface for her so that she remembered it too.

"Draco," she managed and he looked away. "That was you that night…the werewolf that saved me, that white wolf, that was you," she said, not making it a question. She remembered that night, and that wolf, but she had never made the connection, not even after learning Draco was a werewolf just that following day and spending that wonderful, but cold, evening with him. Somehow she had just not thought of him as a possibility for the identity of the shining wolf that had saved her. It seemed so obvious now, and Draco would most certainly make a white wolf, she couldn't expect anything less from him really. "You saved my life that night."

"We saved each other's lives," he said humbly, looking very intently down at his guitar and arranging his fingers on the strings over and over as something to fixate and concentrate on. He had not meant to drag Ginny along with him on one of his frequent memory deviations.

"No. You saved me, I saved you, but then you saved me again from that giant, and again the next day at the castle. I only saved you again the day after that in the final battle. You out-saved me," she accused, though not ungrateful.

"What does it matter? Are we keeping score?" he asked, smiling at her just a little.

"You killed a giant, all by yourself," she said and Draco flushed then.

"I was a beast," he muttered.

"I saw you, in your eyes. You were there that night, not a beast," she said.

"I want to believe it's the beast that could do something so gruesome, not I," he mumbled and Ginny understood then what he meant. Draco prided himself at being very spruce and proper, very human…and he had acted very much like a beast that night. Was he ashamed? That made her sad. She knew he was embarrassed of what he was, refusing to eat because he wanted raw meat and so on, and she didn't know how to make this better. She didn't know how to make him not hate what he was so much when she honestly feared that beast in him quite a bit. What would he do if he knew she tried to forget he was a werewolf because ignoring it made it easier to deal with? Maybe he did know, maybe that was one of the reasons he was so down on himself. Was it her fault? Ginny felt terrible. How could Draco feel good about himself, and embrace his beast, when the woman he loved was scared of him, and unwilling to embrace his beast?

"Thank you," she whispered, "for saving my life," she said, hoping that Draco would understand that she was still growing accustomed to his…condition, but that she did not hate or fear him for it. She wanted him to know she loved him, unconditionally.

"You're welcome," he answered, bowing his head a little.

Draco knew of Ginny's uncertainties, and though they bothered him, he knew it was an awful lot to ask of her to, within two weeks of dating, be fine and dandy with the fact that he was not human. He wasn't even fine with that yet, and he had been this way for fifteen years now, half his life actually. He thought, however, that maybe her talking to Tonks would help. His cousin loved Remus deeply, but there had still been a few bumps along the way…concerns, questions, worries. .

There was more on his mind than that, however.

Ginny did not know it had been him, not Lupin, who had convinced the werewolves to come over to their side, no one other than Lupin did. She was impressed with all he had done and sacrificed, but she didn't even know the extent of it, but he could not bring himself to tell her. To tell her would mean he would have to admit to his intentions, the intentions to bring the werewolves over to fight for him and to overthrow the Dark Lord. Draco knew Ginny believed him a tragic hero, and maybe he was, but he couldn't taint that with the truth of the matter. He needed her to be on his side because he knew, with all the trouble that was bound to go down, she would likely be the only one in his corner. He could not tell her that he would have turned on Harry after the Dark Lord had fallen if he had not been near fatally wounded beforehand by Nott, as well as wandless. But then…with Ginny there, he now kind of doubted he could have done it, not with her watching him. Even back then, with only their night of confessions and kissing, he couldn't bear the thought of disappointing her.

He still couldn't, that's why he could not confess to her his current endeavors, or confide in her his intentions with Sebastian.

Was he being dishonest? No, certainly not. He was not lying because she wasn't asking.

There was silence between them for a long moment, both deep in thought over the complications of their relationship, but the memory past them, hopefully. Ginny sat with bated breath, anticipation making her insides squirm, all her troubles pushed out of her mind at that moment.

Draco started playing the guitar very softly, fingers strumming a very pretty melody as he warmed up to the idea of this romantic act. The memory had left a bad taste in his mouth, but Ginny's eyes on him were washing that away.

Ginny was already impressed, not that she was easily impressed, mind you, but she had never been in a situation like this before. She was impressed that there were still guys in the world that would do something like this for their girl, as cheesy as it is. Draco kept his head down, much focused on his playing but only because he was nervous about having to sing.

A Malfoy, nervous? It happens.

There was a part of him though, deep down, slowly awakening that knew all there was to know about wooing women and he felt his courage build in time for the lyrics of the song he was playing. It was that same part of him that had resurfaced at the Remembrance Ball, and every time him and Ginny made love. Draco only wished he could keep that portion of himself on ready demand and not have to draw it out. Maybe he would be able to with time, and Ginny's love. She had a great talent for knocking down the walls he had built around himself for so many years.

"Look into my eyes…you will see, What you mean to me. Search your heart…search your soul, And when you find me there you'll search no more," he sang, soft like his playing, not having looked up yet. Ginny had forgotten to breathe now that he had opened his mouth. His voice turned out to be perfectly smooth and pleasant, like his speaking voice, but with a gentle flow to it now. Clarissa had been right, he was a good singer, she could tell already.

"Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for. You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for. You know it's true, Everything I do…I do it for you," he sang, feeling his nerves relax at Ginny's already swooning face when he finally glanced up. He had enough courage then to look right at her as he sang. He was a hopeless romantic, had he mentioned that to Ginny? Maybe it was obvious, and he knew this was ridiculous, and if anyone were to watch this scene they would probably laugh themselves silly, or gag on the fluffyness, but he didn't care, Ginny certainly wasn't laughing, or gaging. He had chosen this song, a song from a movie he liked so much, because he honestly always thought of Ginny when hearing it.

How could he have fooled himself into believing he was not madly in love with this woman for so long when, for so many years, she - not his wife - came to mind at the slightest show of romance in a movie, song or show on the telly? Why did he find himself thinking of what she would have liked for Valentine's Day while sitting alone in his Azkaban cell and not what he would have gotten his wife?

It seemed silly to have not realized, now looking back on it, but he supposed denial was a powerful thing, almost as powerful as love, but denial something he was vastly more practiced in.

"Look into your heart…you will find, There's nothin' there to hide. Take me as I am…take my life. I would give it all…I would sacrifice," he sang, Ginny's eyebrows creasing softly as she took in the lyrics, able to understand then why he would pick that song to sing to her, for her.

"Don't tell me it's not worth fightin' for. I can't help it…there's nothin' I want more. Ya'know it's true, Everything I do…I do it for you," he sang, his guitar playing becoming a little firmer then, now strumming to signify a more powerful part of the song, the volume still low to keep things so intimate. "There's no love…like your love, And no other…could give more love. There's nowhere…unless you're there, All the time…all the way!" he sang, Ginny pouting out her bottom lip then, trying not to tear up just a little at that point as he just played the guitar for a moment, an instrumental break in the song obviously. He kind of smiled bashfully down at his hands as he played for a moment. Was he blushing? If he was she was seriously going to die right there from cuteness overload. She had never had a guy sing to her before, and it was too dreamlike to be real. What girl didn't want this? She wanted to tell him he sang beautifully, and if he ever tried to pass off his guitar playing as "substandard" again she would smack him upside the head with the instrument, but she did not want to throw off the dynamic of the song and spoil the moment that had her so thoroughly engrossed that she was not breathing again. His eye might have been badly bruised, and their world might be collapsing all around them, but at that moment nothing mattered, everything was perfect.

"Oh…you can't tell me it's not worth tryin' for. I can't help it…there's nothin' I want more!" he sang, guitar heavier again, singing just a touch firmer with the enthusiasm of the climax of the song, but still intimately, still softly. "Yeah, I would fight for you…I'd lie for you, Walk the wire for you…yeah, I'd die for you…" he let that last note linger for a moment. "Ya'know it's true…Everything I do…oh…I do it for you," he sang, ending the song with one last slow strum of his guitar, looking right at Ginny, confident and bold then but waiting for her to say something, critique him maybe. He knew she could say nothing negative, except what a total loser he was, but he was a little nervous still, or were those butterflies in his stomach from something else?

Looking at Ginny right then, he could have told her he had murdered her whole family and he doubted she would manage much more than a gurgle as she continued to swoon.

Oh yeah, the Malfoy in him still had it. Draco was doing his little victory dance in his mind, a dance he had only dared outwardly display before his children in the past.

He smiled at her, waiting for her to say something but Ginny knew he would have to wait until she could breathe again.

Draco managed a smirk and with that triggered Ginny suddenly leaning forward, engulfing him in a strong hug, surprising him.

"Oh Draco, that was just so divine," she gushed, crying all over again but for completely different reasons then than when she had showed up.

The guitar was being pressed between them rather hard and Ginny seemed unbothered by it, but it was his hip bones that were screaming in pain.

"Gin, Draco needs to breathe," he managed with a tightness in his throat like he was refraining from whining, or groaning in pain, patting her on the back. Ginny released him to rub under her eyes to dry them while laughing breathily.

"That was really, really nice, Draco, and romantic…way more romantic than candles and chocolates and whatever else normal men would try and pass off as romance," she said.

"I'm not normal?" he pouted just a little, sticking out his bottom lip in a comical way. Damn it he was a tease.

"Nope, and that's why I love you so. There isn't anyone like you anywhere in the world," she said, pushing Draco's guitar away so she could hug him, but gently this time. "What song was that?" she finally asked after a moment.

"Um, a song from a Robin Hood movie," he answered softly, thinking of a movie he had forced his children to sit through hundreds of times because he picked it often on his choice of movie night. He was going to watch the movie with Ginny. They were going to curl up together, closing out the world and all their collective problems, and forget their worries and families for a few short hours while they escaped into Sherwood Forest while wrapped up together in a single warm blanket. She could be his Marian, and he could be her Robin. It was perfect.

"It's beautiful when you play it," she said, not knowing the original since it was clearly Muggle, but positive it wouldn't be able to compete with Draco's rendition of it.

"Thank you," he whispered, holding her tight. They sat there like that for a moment before Draco had a terribly honest guy moment. "God I really want you right now," he sighed, his body really enjoying Ginny's closeness as much as his sentiment did or even more.

"A chap deserves a good shag after serenading his woman with a song," she breathed into his ear, pressing her body up against his just a little bit more, showing she was feeling much the same way and causing his body to stir.

"But my mother, and Clarissa-" he attempted, pulling away some, trying to keep his mind despite the diversion of blood flow. He was as randy and as easily stirred as a teenager, and it was mildly embarrassing.

"- are in the kitchen, busy baking cookies," she whispered. "Come here," she commanded just as hushed, grabbing him by the shirt after standing. Draco looked over at the kitchen doorway where he could not see his mother or his daughter as he was pulled along.

Ginny yanked and swung him around her so that he stumbled into his bedroom just a bit. He was still doped up on Valium, would be for several hours still, so his balance was compromised. She was right there on him after quietly closing the door and flicking her wand at it. Draco knew Ginny was using a Muffliato charm without having to look into her mind even though she was performing it silently. He did not have a chance to ask if the room was now locked again, however, because Ginny's lips were on his, hands fisted into the front of his shirt, pulling him to her.

She kissed him like these were their last moments together on earth and Draco liked the passion, the desire, feeling a lot of his own right then, feeling his body throb with need as his tight denims grew even more snug. He couldn't forget though that his mother was in another room, with his eleven-year-old daughter, and that was a serious libido slayer.

"Ginny," he managed between her kisses, wanting to tell her they couldn't, that it was inappropriate and wrong and that it wouldn't take his mother long to notice the sudden quiet from the living room and realizing where they had gone and what they were likely up to. Draco was still a little prude and his mother a little scary.

Ginny did not let Draco refuse her, because she knew that was what he was going to do. It wasn't because he didn't want to have sex; she knew he did and she could tell his body wanted it. He just had a hang-up over his mother still.

She threw him down on the bed and sat on his stomach so he couldn't get up.

"No," she said firmly, her own body aching for this, for him. She found herself in a position that lined them up enough to cause her body to react then. She had had a bad day, Draco had too. This would be a welcome release…literally. She sat there, rubbing herself against his stomach to stimulate herself as she looked down at him.

"Ginny, we are in a sticky spot already with, well, the whole world…we shouldn't really anger my mother, one of the few people we have that…" he tired to say but Ginny just placed her whole hand over his mouth and pressed his head down into the mattress slightly to show she was serious in him shutting up.

"Shut up," she said firmly. Draco looked up at her, his eyes, one bruised, looking a little surprised at how forceful Ginny was. He knew she was fiery, but this was new. "I need you," she said, leaning down and only then uncovering his mouth. "Please, fuck me?" she asked, softly then, almost as though she was begging him. Draco felt his insides squirm a little with Ginny's choice of vulgar but honest words as they seemingly conflicted with her soft and intimate tone.

Draco groaned as Ginny removed her hand and he leaned up enough to catch her mouth with his and kiss her deeply, left hand gripping her hair in the back tight enough for it to hurt and draw a panting gasp from her. Ginny could handle a little pain, she had demonstrated as much in the past with him.

Clothing rapidly disappeared, soft ripping sounds revealing more than anything their reckless abandonment for all things gentle at the moment, all the while Draco kissed and grasped, Ginny moaned and groped. Ginny felt him nibbling down around her neck as he lay atop of her and she remembered only then what Hermione had warned her about: Draco's little love-bites and nips, but all thoughts fled her as she felt the pressure of him bite down. A gasp escaped her from the pain and then surprise as he pressed into her, entering with tight friction with a grunt on his part.

His teeth stayed latched onto the spot where her shoulder met her neck and he held on tight, tight enough to hurt but not break the skin…yet. It was a very warm, almost burning sensation to feel him move in and out before her body became slick enough to allow him to pass more easily, him slowing a bit to move deeper with a few strokes, causing her to gasp.

They both enjoyed the raw roughness of uninhibited sex. Draco had started off in their relationship a little unsure of what he wanted, but once he found what he liked he went with it, and Ginny could not complain because what he liked was amazing, but it often hurt. It hurt right now.

Draco released his grip on her neck and licked the spot as though to sooth it, Ginny able to breathe again when she hadn't realized she had been holding it. He had done this before and she had been alright, but it still scared her. Draco kept his hands very firmly planted on the bed on either side of her shoulders for support and Ginny had her arms around him, nails digging into his bony back as she grunted with every one of this hard and needy thrusts. They carried on, hard and fast.

Ginny felt him gripping the bedding and heard some ripping. Panting, she looked over to see his nails elongated and claw-like while they tore through the bedding as he made fists.

She felt her heart stop for a moment.

"Draco," she managed to gasp, her anxiety hardly able to compete with the sex. "Draco," she repeated, but he only seemingly took that as her encouraging moans of his name and moved just a little faster. His clawed fists clenched and twisted in the bedding, ripping it enough for the metal springs on the inside to be exposed under its fluff and padding. Ginny was scared, but intoxicated by the sex, heart poinding for both those reasons.

"Draco," Ginny gasped, but in pleasure as she felt her body suddenly clench, making it near impossible for him to move in and out, though he was trying.

He growled, or moaned, or both, as he climaxed and ended up collapsed atop of her, panting and quivering. Ginny was left there, frozen in numb pleasure and utter terror. Draco had not shifted, it was still a man atop of her exhausted and gasping, but he had lost more control that time than any time before. Some growling and animalistic behavior was one thing, but claws? That was new…and frightening.

"Draco," she said, as he rested atop of her, not even pulled out yet. "Draco, are you alright," she asked, concerned for him despite the throbbing she felt on her shoulder. He was quiet, quiet for a long moment, and then she heard him breathe a singular sob. "Draco," she repeated, softer that time with her aching heart, but he just rolled off of her and turned away so that his feet were on the floor and legs curled up, back bowed as he rocked slightly. His hands were out of sight and she had a feeling he wanted them to be.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely.

"No," she soothed, reaching up to touch him but him jerking away to end up sitting on the floor just out of reach, back still to her.

"I did not mean to hurt you…"

"You didn't," she assured, looking over herself quickly. No blood. "You just scared me a little," she said softly, that somehow not cheering him up much.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he started repeating, breathing as though fighting back more than just a few tears.

"It's alright-"

"I have not had a lot of practice to perfect…control…I'm sorry…" he whispered, not wanting to even mention the drugs he had taken. A muscle relaxer was bad for his control, he realized now, only nearly too late.

Ginny said nothing but just sat up more from the mattress. She saw the slashes Draco had made in the bed with such ease…like it had been tissue paper…and was in awe for just a moment before she shook her head and scooted to the edge of the mattress. She spread her legs so she could place Draco between them and hugged him from behind. He clenched up at her touch and he did not release, even as she embraced him oh-so-tenderly. She rocked a little, trying to encourage him to loosen up enough to move with her, and he eventually did, allowing her to hold and rock him like he had her earlier in the living room. She soothed him and he did not really cry, he was feeling too hollow to cry.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again.

"It's alright. We will just have to be more careful," she assured.

"I…I didn't put on a condom," he confessed and Ginny held her breath.

"Don't worry about it."

"I'm sorry," he said yet again, sounding hopeless and Ginny did the only thing she could think of, she kissed the back of his neck reassuringly, showing that she didn't think of him as the monster he saw himself as.

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

Ginny looked in the mirror and saw the mark Draco had left on her. He hadn't broken the skin - thank any and every god there ever is, was, and will be - but damn, she would have a bruise. Réamann and Harry had never been biters, but it would have been much less of a problem if they had as opposed to Draco. She did not want to have to talk to him about it right now, while he was so upset over going a little beastie while in the middle of…everything, but it was a pressing matter. He seemed guilt ridden too, about not having used protection. He had seemingly been led to believe that any sex unprotected lead to babies. That was not true, but it was hard to convince him of that given his past experiences in the matter.

Ginny knew Draco very much tried to pretend he was not sick, and prided himself on how human he acted, but it seemed in the fits of passion he could not hide what he really was, he could not help whatever instincts he had inherited with his condition. He seemed mortified by this, and like she felt while on the couch with him just an hour before, she didn't know how to make it better.

She wanted to assure him that it was alright, and it was nothing to be ashamed of, but it was difficult to be so supportive when she was at the same time so frightened. What if he had made her bleed when he had bitten her while shifting slightly, or scratched her with a claw? Would she have gotten sick, tainted? She had seen him rip the throat of a giant out with those teeth and claws, what could he do to her, besides possibly getting her sick?

She felt nauseous at the thought, so she could only imagine how Draco felt, being the one…accountable.

She wanted to comfort him, but she honestly did not know how. If she gave him too much space he might get the impression that she was scared of him, too scared to get close. But if she was too cuddly he would feel she pitied him, and he hated that, and there were few things that could make him any grumpier any faster than pity.

"Damn it," she cursed, sitting down on the toilet and gripping her hair. Her body hurt and felt so good at the same time, but all her worry was draining away all the satisfaction she normally got to enjoy after sex. She had dressed and darted across the hall to the bathroom, now she kind of felt trapped there. Not by Narcissa or the shame of what they had done with others in the house, but of her impending interactions with Draco once she returned to the bedroom.

She had known this would be complex, and she knew things were only going to get worse as the media went crazy with their reports on their romance, but she had somehow thought that they could ignore all that and hold up somewhere until it all died down…but there was enough inner conflict that there really was no refuge from the turmoil in her life.

She had started this with intentions of it being a fling. They were only supposed to be each other's convenient escape. How had it happened, how had she let it become so much more? Why did she love him? She barely knew him!

But…she knew him more than anyone else, though how much did that really say about the matter? No one really knew him, sometimes she felt like she hardly knew him.

Ginny groaned.

Was she thinking about ending it?

It certainly would make things easier for them both to just stop seeing each other, do a little damage control with the media and their families, and put it all behind them…but she doubted Draco would see it that way, not after what had just happened. He would think she is running from him and that would crush him…that would crush anybody.

Furthermore, she realized as she fisted her hair in her fingers so that the roots were pulled tight, she did not want to leave him.

Reprehensible reputation or not, beastie or not, needy or whatever, she wanted to be with him. The sex was great, and that song certainly helped, but those were not the reasons why. She loved him. She didn't know how to put it in words, not even to herself in her own mind, and she was just going around in circles here.

"Shit, shit, shit," she cursed over and over again as she readied herself to go back to the bedroom where Draco was undoubtedly waiting, dressed probably, and sitting there on his mattress with those hollow sad eyes.

She hated it when he got those vacant eyes. Azkaban had given them to him, but life had compounded those effects and made them so sad at the same time.

Ginny peeked out of the bathroom, saw no one, and jogged in a few quick steps across the hall to Draco's door. She let herself in quickly and only registered Draco once she was inside. He was standing but feet away, a little surprised it seemed by her sudden in-burst and just looked at her when she closed the door. She fought not to gasp when she turned around and found him standing right up against her, looking at her with sad but probing eyes.

He reached up and held her jaw so tenderly in his hand as he lifted her chin to look at her neck.

"I am so sorry," he whispered, looking at what he had done. "I can't believe I…I don't even remember…I didn't mean to…oh, I'm so sorry," he muttered, too horrified to look away from the teeth marks on his girlfriend's throat, unable to finish a single sentence. He was in shock and his tone was slipping into disgust. After all that anxiety of the day, after what Ginny had seen of him in that memory they shared…maybe it was the stress, maybe it was the pills he had taken making him too relaxed, but he had never been so close to losing control before, and it frightened him…a lot.

"I'm alright," she assured, trying to act nonchalant, not like she was worried and conflicted and not sure what to do about their relationship given everything that was happening out there, and now in here.

"No."

"Draco-"

"God, we can't have one romantic moment, can we? I always some how manage to fuck it up," he said, and Ginny sighed with a tight gut. She knew he could sense and know what she was feeling and thinking. She hoped he could see in her that she loved him, regardless and intensely, and see past the mild horror she felt.

"Draco, you carry a little bit of a cloud of…angst…with you, but I have known that from the start, and I knew what I was getting into. And you have not fucked anything up! What happened yesterday was not your fault, and what happened just now wasn't-"

"I bit you," he said in horror.

"Not hard."

He gently touched the edge of it with his finger and she winced.

"Oh my God," he moaned, sounding ready to break down again as he turned away to finally look at something else, anything else.

"This is alright. We just need to talk, maybe work something out so this doesn't happen again is all," she said, trying to be proactive and not just sit there and repeat "it's alright" all afternoon. That would accomplish nothing and it was clearly not reassuring Draco any.

"What would you have me do, wear a muzzle to bed?" he asked, sounding bitter.

"No, and don't be so insulting and patronizing to yourself," she scolded, tired of Draco's constant berating of himself. Sometimes it was cute, when it seemed like he was joking, but she knew he meant it to be anything from light most of the time, especially right now. Honestly, if there was no one else around making him feel like crap, he seemed to have to do it himself. Could he not function unless there was something making him miserable? It would explain a lot if that were true since he had admitted to being a bit of a "button-pusher" and a "glutton for punishment." It was still completely mental and unhealthy regardless and she couldn't understand why he did it, habitual or no.

Draco sighed heavily, knowing his constant self-deprecation was irritating to Ginny, and turned away again after having glanced over at her, limping towards his dresser without a word.

Ginny was a little anxious now. Had he just been looking in her mind? She had just called him mental, and she knew how much that bothered him, even when they joked.

Draco reached the dresser where picture frames perched and he had his cologne and a few other small bottles. He grabbed one small glass bottle that stood beside his comb and turned back to Ginny, holding it out to her. She was going to ask, but he explained on his own.

"Take this," he said. "It is the last potion Réamann gave me, take it to heal that…wound," he said downheartedly.

"Draco, you need that," she said, pushing the potion back towards him.

"I don't deserve it," he muttered, pressing it into her hands and closing them around it. He turned and grabbed his cane, leaving the room without a word and unwilling to argue with Ginny over it. He knew he wouldn't be getting any more potions from Réamann, but what was giving up this last one to Ginny whom he had hurt? It was either tonight or tomorrow night that he would start to suffer the pains again, delaying then inevitable at the expense of Ginny's pain was unacceptable.

Ginny wanted to refuse and leave the potion behind, but she was about to go out in a room with Draco's mother, and she was not wearing a shirt that could cover the marks. What choice did she have? If her family saw such a mark on her they would kill Draco, she had no doubt about that.

Ginny sighed and downed the healing potion in two gulps. She made a face at its texture and wondered if she should have shaken it first. It was so grainy and had a little bit of a taste of eggs, and not good eggs. She shuddered past the taste and waited as her body became warm and soothed. Heat flared at her throat where healing must have been taking place, but she also felt other parts of her relax. Her lower back, her knees, her minor headache, they all vanished in a few waves of warmth. She was left feeling quite wonderful…physically.

She hadn't realized healing potions were so effective. Maybe it was so fast to act and such because she wasn't that hurt to begin with. She hadn't taken a potion like this before, and she recalled Hermione saying something about people building a tolerance to them over time, so maybe that's why it felt so great. She had always used spells to heal wounds, so it was an isolated treatment, a potion worked over the whole body it seemed and it felt magnificent. No wonder these potions were regulated by the Ministry. She would take one of these everyday if she could; now knowing how great she could feel without her constant back ache and the minor pains of everyday tasks gone.

Shaking her head, she didn't want to think about Draco's need for the potions, about how fantastic the effect must have been for him, or maybe, possibly, how limited it was due to how much more of an ache it would have to suppress and how often he took them so that their effectiveness waned. Setting the bottle down, she followed after Draco.

Draco was in the living room, Clarissa up in his arms. Ginny was a little surprised Draco could lift her. Clarissa was pretty small for her age, and Draco had managed to pick her up at the Ball, but he held his daughter on his hip with relative ease and laughed at her tale of baking with Nana. There was no sign of any of the emotions Draco had just displayed to her. In fact, he looked happy and content as she had ever seen him.

Somehow that infuriated her. She didn't like him putting on facades because they were so damn convincing it made her feel insecure in wondering which was the act.

"I was wondering where you two had gotten to," Narcissa said smoothly, not exactly coldly, but her tone was not terribly friendly. The look she was giving Ginny showed just how furious she really was.

"Ginny and I just went off to talk about things in private since, as you know, our situation has become a touch more complex," Draco said smoothly, lying so easily, even to his mother.

"Talked, hugh?" she asked.

"You didn't hear anything that would suggest otherwise," he said, not making it a question.

"No."

"So obviously, nothing happened," he said matter-of-factly, making that the end of that. Narcissa seemed anything but convinced but had nothing to use in her argument, and with Clarissa right there in Draco's arms, she was not about to accuse him of anything but "talking."

"Are things going to be okay, Daddy?" she asked, leaning back a little from his shoulder so she could look at him properly, her brow frowning while looking into her father's bruised and thin face.

"In time," he promised, sure that in some weeks, months, years maybe, people would get over it. He did not pretend to know for certain when though.

"I wish everyone would stop picking on Ginny. She's nice," she said and Ginny caught that from the feet away where she stood and smiled at the girl.

"I'm afraid it's not Ginny that everyone has a problem with, sweet pea," he said sadly though keeping his face bright and strong for her.

"They have a problem with you?" she asked, somehow managing to be shocked by this.

"Yeah," Draco sighed, nodding.

"But why?" she demanded, sounding insulted and outraged.

"Because Daddy is not well-liked by…many, but Ginny is, and we make an awkward combination," he attempted to explain.

"People still can't be mad at you," Clarissa said as though not so sure while looking at her daddy.

"I think they just might be," he said.

"But, but, they let you out of prison, they felt you had done your time…I don't understand," she whined.

"I don't understand either, but let's not dwell. Wash up for supper, okay?" he asked, kissing her cheek and putting her down with a "wow you are getting big" groan.

Clarissa skipped off to the bathroom to clean up like instructed and Narcissa disappeared into the kitchen again, to drink her bourbon.

"When was the last time you ate?" Ginny asked once they were alone and Draco looked embarrassed. "It wasn't yesterday when I made you eat was it?" she asked, hoping to God she was being over-presumptuous, that she was being outrageous.

"With everything that happened after that I didn't have much of an appetite," he attempted to rationalize and Ginny groaned.

"Draco, dear God, you are going to kill yourself," she nearly growled, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him towards the kitchen. She didn't want to be turning into her mother and forcing food onto people, but Draco was someone that seriously needed food forced upon him. He seemed incapable of managing when left to his own devices. "Not eating leads to malnourishment which makes you low on energy, makes healing slow, and makes you sick. No wonder you are always tired, achy and cold. You are going to starve yourself into organ failure. All you need right now is for your kidneys to quit on you or damage your liver," she scolded as she pulled him along.

"Ginny," he tried as his mother came into view. Ginny pushed him down at the little table and placed her hands on her hips.

"I give you the choice of telling me something you like and I will make it, or you can sit there and pout and I'll make something of my choosing. Either way, you are going to eat it," she said forcefully. Narcissa was looking over at them and she blinked at Ginny.

Draco sat there, moping and pouting like predicted. He hated being reprimanded. It made his inner child feel rebellious and unwilling to comply.

Ginny, getting no answer from him, turned to the refrigerator and started gathering up some food, prepared to make him something hearty and force him to eat it as punishment for his stubbornness. She dared a glance over at Narcissa and was surprised to see a kind look on the woman's face. She looked grateful. Ginny gave her a timid smile and Narcissa returned a more confident one. This exchange was completely hidden from Draco as he pouted at the table, their backs to him.

It looked like the women, as much as they opposed and abhorred one another, could agree on one thing and that was Draco was too damn skinny and they would do all in their power to see him healthy.

Clarissa skipped back into the room to join her daddy at the table and her charming ways got Draco to smile. She could smile in such an angelic way, baring her teeth and squinting her eyes, making her look so open and excited, it was heartwarming. Ginny loved that little girl.

Draco let Clarissa sit on him, though Narcissa normally frowned upon that at the table, and she managed to look the other way while Draco played with Clarissa's hair. It was poor manners to groom one's self, or anyone else, at the table, but she bit her tongue as Draco braided Clarissa's thick and curling locks back away from her face and tugged on it, getting her to laugh and kiss his chin.

Ginny was cooking, and Draco was happily conversing with Clarissa about her day at Muggle primary school when there was a loud crack from the living room and all in the kitchen, minus Clarissa, knew the sound of someone Apparating. Draco froze, clutching his daughter to him, and Ginny held her breath. She was the only one that would Apparate straight into Draco's house and not bring trouble. When Hermione entered the room Ginny relaxed slightly, but Draco did not.

"Ginny, there you are," she said, not registering the room as a whole yet, just seeing her friend and sighing in relief. "I was worried."

"I'm alright," she said, looking over at Draco with just her eyes, Hermione doing the same but turning her whole head and then freezing.

There Draco sat, with a mini-Malfoy on his knee, looking like a mouse caught in the middle of the kitchen floor with the lights flicked on.

"Draco?" she managed after a moment, Clarissa looking down at the floor, unmoving, as though trained that people's perception of her was based off of movement and they would lose track of her if she stayed still.

"What are you doing in my house, Granger," Draco growled, still hugging his daughter protectively.

Hermione continued to stare at the little girl but swallowed and answered Draco his question.

"I was worried about Ginny, and you I suppose," she said, blinking a few times. "Who is that?" she asked, indicating Clarissa.

"You Apparate straight into my home without permission, and then demand answers from me?" Draco fumed, Hermione's manners thoroughly offending and enraging him.

"No, no fighting, please," Ginny begged from the other side of the small kitchen.

"I was worried," Hermione argued, a little heatedly, looking at Draco's bruised face and knowing she had been justified in her concern apparently.

"About what?" Draco asked, standing as Clarissa slid off his knee to stand beside the table.

"Ron is having a benny," Hermione warned just as there was another CRACK in the living room. Draco paled, if that were possible, so his bruise looked like a spill of ink around his left eye…more so than before that is.

"MALFOY!" Ron bellowed. Draco pushed Clarissa towards her grandmother and only managed to back up some as Ron stormed into the room. "You son-of-a-bitch," Ron fumed, pushing up his sleeves and bearing down on Draco.

"Ron, stop it!" Ginny yelled as Draco backed up.

"I'm going to rip your arms off and beat you with them you greasy git!" Ron yelled. Draco ducked around the table to keep something between him and the massive and pissed off older brother.

"Ron, calm down," Hermione shouted.

"Come to Christmas and act all well-mannered and social, talking to me on the porch like you had somehow changed in all these years? You haven't! You are still a slimy two-faced fraud and liar!"

"Ron, stop this!" Ginny screamed at her brother as he flipped the table over so that Draco couldn't protect himself with it. Draco was very intently staying out of Ron's reach, not quite running away, but backwards walking quickly around in circles in the small room. He was no fool, he weighed as much as Ron's left leg and he had no magic; there was no way he could defend himself.

Clarissa was sobbing against her grandmother's hip and Narcissa looked furious.

Draco did not try and explain himself because he knew Ron would not listen, and blaming Ginny, saying this was all her idea, was poor form and probably wouldn't earn him much favor from anyone in the room at the moment.

"You nasty little ferret!" Ron shouted, reaching for Draco and finally getting a hold of him, grasping him by the front of his shirt to pull him close.

"Ron, I-" Draco attempted at last in desperation but a fist colliding with the other side of his already bruised face shut him up.

"Ron!" Ginny and Hermione both screamed.

Ron looked ready to punch the very dazed Draco again, but a skillet swooped in from behind him and knocked him over the head. Ron stumbled and let go of Draco. Draco lay crumpled on the floor, face in his hands, and Ron stumbled to fall onto his butt several feet away near the upturned table, clutching his head.

Narcissa stood tall, skillet raised still. She looked fierce and menacing as she stood so strong.

Ginny and Hermione each respectively ran to a man and eased their hands away from their injuries to check them over. Hermione pried Ron's hands away from his head, and Ginny tried to coax Draco's hands away from the right side of his face.

"Don't you ever put your hands on my son again," Narcissa warned pointing down at Ron with her hot skillet. Ron's eyes watered a little bit as he sat dizzily on the floor.

"Draco, let me see," Ginny pleaded as Draco lay crumpled on the floor still, rocking on his right-side a little in the pain. He was proud of himself for not crying, but he had a feeling half his brain was bruised and he really was crying and he just didn't realize it.

"Daddy, are you alright? Daddy?" Clarissa begged, joining Ginny, Draco's face still curled into his hands and forearms.

Hermione and Ron looked over at her words and stared.

"Daddy?" Ron asked, staring over at the girl and the boney lump on the floor that was Draco. Clarissa looked over at him with a silver glare befitting any Malfoy, her sharp face harsh despite her adorable curls loose around her ears and freckles dusting her delicate yet sharp nose. Ron and Hermione's eyes widened in shock and surprise and there was a lot of silence in the room. The tea kettle started to whistle and it seemed shriekingly loud in the stunned silence.

Narcissa leaned against the wall, skillet in hand as intimidation and threat, and Clarissa righted a chair to sit in while Hermione righted the table. Ginny encouraged Draco to sit up off the floor though he still refused to let her see his right eye as he kept the palm of his hand pressed over it.

"What the hell is going on?" Ron finally asked, unable to stand the silence for so long. Draco looked up at him from the floor with only his bruised left eye. "You are fooling around with my sister, are you fooling around on someone else? Where did this daughter come from?" he asked, pointing at Clarissa.

"Do not talk about my daughter as though she is not sitting right here with us, able to hear and understand you, Ronald," Draco warned, growling. Ron closed his mouth but glared.

"I think what Ron is trying to ask is, are you in another relationship, like Ginny?" Hermione asked, giving Ginny and apologetic look.

"No," Draco grumbled, pulling his shoulder out of Ginny's fussing grip, his annoyance practically crackling around him.

"Then where…?" Ron attempted.

"Her mother is dead, awright? My wife died eight years ago," he snapped, pulling away from Ginny again and standing, putting space between her and him and him and everybody. Clarissa looked a little stranded sitting in the chair in the middle of the kitchen. Her hands were folded on her lap as she looked down, looking as though she wished she were invisible, or deaf at the very least.

Hermione and Ron had nothing to say to that, they just looked over at the little girl, then over at Draco, then over to Ginny. Ginny gave them a long sad look before sighing and looking away.

"Ginny, why didn't you tell me about this?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, because you knew about the rest of it," Ron fumed at her and Hermione turned to snap right back at him.

"Oh shut up, Ginny made me swear to tell no one!"

"This isn't some Truth-or-Dare, girly confession, Hermione! You should have told-"

"I didn't tell you, Hermione," Ginny interrupted, talking loudly over Ron's anger, "because Draco had asked me not to say anything to anyone about…this," she said. "I respected his desire for privacy in the matter, and I hope you will too."

"Ginny, the family is up in arms," Hermione said, holding out her hands to indicate Ron. "You can't honestly expect to continue on with this fling-"

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Ginny, everyone is talking about it," Ron argued.

"Since when do I care or pay attention to what people are saying?"

"Ginny, this isn't tabloids remarking on your weight or how you dress, this is serious!" Hermione urged.

"What the hell…" Ginny paused, "Sorry," she said, looking over at Draco, knowing he didn't like people cursing in front of his children, "is so serious about this? Oh my God, I have a new boyfriend. I can't let everyone police who I date, Hermione, otherwise I would still be married to Harry!"

"Gin, Boyfriend? When did he go from casual and secret fling to boyfriend?" Hermione asked and Draco and Ginny both managed to flush a little and look away in opposite directions.

"Boyfriend? Ginny, are you listening to yourself? Draco Malfoy is not boyfriend material!" Ron bellowed.

"I beg your pardon," Draco grumbled indignantly but going unacknowledged in the conversation as Ginny talked on.

"And why not? You don't know him!"

"I don't have to, he's a Malfoy!"

"I beg your pardon!" this coming from Narcissa now as she clutched her skillet a little tighter as Draco stood slowly from the floor.

"Next you're going to tell me it's because he's a Death Eater, or a Werewolf," Ginny accused and Draco shifted uncomfortably. "Some open-minded, new age, progressive thinker you are!" she scolded.

"No, it's not that, it's that he can't be trusted!" Ron argued.

"I'm standing right here you know," Draco drawled. "If you have something to say to me, say it to me."

Ron rolled his eyes to glare at him. "I don't trust you," he said very flatly, right to Draco's face and Draco gave him a very un-amused smile of gratitude for the honesty and taking him so literally.

"I don't feel I have to explain myself or my life choices to you, Ronald," Ginny fumed.

"Expect to have to when Mum and Dad get a hold of you," he warned.

"I am an adult, and I am free to make my own choices."

"When did shagging Draco Malfoy ever become even an option of choice?" Ron barked and Draco cut across the room to grab his daughter and scoop her up in his arms, taking her from the room as Hermione watched. He was not about to have his daughter suffer through this, especially with the turn of topic.

"So I have to be having sex with him if I'm dating him?" Ginny retorted in indignation, a little angry that so much was assumed, and a little more angry that she couldn't deny it either.

"You telling me you're not?" Ron shouted.

"It's none of your damn business either way!"

"Why can't you just answer the question? Yes or no?"

"Because that would prove no point and I'm not about to reward your rude pig-headedness!" she shouted right back as Draco carried Clarissa through the living room and down the hall, still able to hear their angry shouting. He let her down in his room and kissed her forehead, pushing some loose curls away and holding her head reassuringly.

"Just lay down in here, okay sweet pea?" he said softly. He had flipped the mattress and put clean sheets on the bed while Ginny had locked herself in the bathroom earlier.

"Are you okay? Your eye…"

"Daddy is fine," he assured and Clarissa sobbed a little as he hugged her.

Narcissa followed in after them and took a long look at her son as he stood, Clarissa crawling up his mattress to curl up with Leak. His right eye was swollen nearly shut but what she could see of it was red. The blood vessels in to surface of his eye had ruptured, turning the whites of his eye blood red. With the skin red and puffy already starting to bruise, and the other half of his face already purple and discolored, he looked like he was wearing some sort of non-comical mask over his eyes and elegant cheekbones, and she just had to sigh.

"I hope she is worth all this, Angel," she muttered to him.

Draco just gave her a look, his eyes too hurt to show his assurances so he had to settle for a meek smile. Narcissa sighed again, almost deflated, but smiled back, running her hand through his long hair once to get it out of his face. It was a habit of hers from when he was small that she had never managed to drop.

"Go defend her, I'll be here with Clarissa," she said, Draco nodding and closing the door. There was utter silence upon that, neither of them able to hear the fighting outside, and Narcissa held her breath as though counting silently to herself. Her son had lied to her about "just talking," but somehow, she couldn't manage to be all that mad at him at the moment given what she knew he was about to go up against.

Draco limped back towards the kitchen, grabbing his cane from the living room as went. He walked in confidently despite the hobble and his bruised face and spoke over the argument.

"Gin, you're burning the nosh," he said calmly, pointing at the stove with his cane before setting it down to lean heavily on it. Ginny blinked and looked over her shoulder to the food she had left unattended and forgotten. She cursed under her breath and rushed over to it, turning off the burners and throwing a lid over the burning contents of the pan.

"Weasley," Draco then went on to say, rounding of Ron. "I accept that you are angry with me, and I'm willing to deal with that and tolerate is because I wouldn't expect any less from you, but I will not stand by and let you treat Ginny this way. She does not answer to you, and making her feel guilty for only trying to be happy is terribly shitty of you."

"You think you care more about her than I do?" Ron accused, voice rising.

"I haven't screamed at her, ever, and you have made her cry," Draco answered and Ron blinked, looking over at Ginny and realizing, as she turned away from the cooker, that she was teary-eyed. Ron looked back at Draco and frowned.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" he asked, looking right at him.

"For you to stop being such a clod," Draco retorted.

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Author's Note:

We were all just WAITING for Ron's reaction to all this. Well, there it was. Draco will be alright, minor head-trauma never stopped him before. GO NARCISSA! Sorry if I scared you with the sex scene. Was the fluffy-song-moment too mushy? I know I was gagging and spitting. I can't handle writing fluff.

…………….

Thank you Brian Adams for the song "Everything I do, (I Do It For You)" that Draco sang, From the movie Robin Hood Prince of Thieves. I was actually compelled to write this story because of that movie, it inspired me so (more than Wicked that just turned out to work so well after the fact). The lines that impinged upon me were:

Marian: How is it, that a once-arrogant young nobleman has found contentment, living rough with the salt of the earth?

Robin: I've seen knights in armor panic at the first hint of battle. And I've seen the lowliest, unarmed squire pull a spear from his own body, to defend a dying horse. Nobility is not a birthright. It's defined by one's actions.

I think that is one of the most profound quotes in the movie and a favorite of mine. Another is:

Marian: All I remember of you is a spoiled bully who used to burn my hair as a child…

Robin: Well, please allow that years of war and prison may change a man.

I feel that is a poignant and powerful line that sets up the romance between the two characters that climaxes with a simple but heartfelt kiss. I drew a lot of inspiration for Draco and Ginny from those characters and I see a lot of Robin Hood in my Draco.

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