Fallen Angel
Chapter 15
What a week it had been for Draco. Nasty articles resulting in confrontations in Diagon Alley and a further dirtying of his repute, fights and reconciliations with Ginny, wands, jobs, paparazzi, stepsons, attacks, and aches, Draco was left reeling at about midweek, believing things couldn't possibly get any more weird or stressful. He had been wrong. A diagnosis of psychosis, the Ministry attempting to sterilize him -twice- before blackmailing him for an undoubtedly absurd amount of gold, the learning of Ginny's past miscarriage, and discussion of William for the first time, left Draco depressed. Michelangelo's continuous dramas were taxing, and Clarissa taking a sudden leap into womanhood certainly depleted the last of his reserves for that week. The car accident was most certainly overkill at this point if there was some kind of aim to make Draco's week the most horrendous ever, but he was certainly one to go that extra mile.
Despite the epic stress, Draco hadn't quite had a complete nervous breakdown yet. Ginny had a feeling it was due to the medications he was on, and that was certainly part of it, but Draco was putting forth a real and conscious effort to try and deal with everything -because there was just too much of it now to neglect. He was also feeling closer to Ginny than ever after all their talking, sharing, and his new openness over Christina and his past. He found unexpected comfort in her being there with him in such matters, and he knew she felt the same in regards to him, which only served to invigorate him more. Still, things were not perfect.
His boss was still fuming over Draco's missed hours, Connor only recently being revealed to the family as being his stepson -and seemingly depressed as of late after having seen home movies containing his absent mother doting upon her other children- Ginny preparing to see a new Healer for her pregnancy now that it was common knowledge, his mother seemingly vanishing for a day at a time, the home movies he had dug-up and the explanations that inevitably came with them, the continuous work on the old house…it was no wonder Draco -along with Ginny- had indigestion. They both needed a holiday.
Draco was, however, still harboring worries and feelings, things that were actually tearing him apart inside but couldn't share. He and Ginny had taken great leaps forward in establishing a more balanced and stable relationship, but Draco still withheld things, feelings, not for his sake but hers. Ginny was making herself sick with worry and stress when this was a time more than any other that she needed rest and relaxation. He knew he needed help, but he knew the only person he could turn to was the last person he would ever want to…but he was kind of out of options at this point. This was his last chance, his only option left…that was sort of why he was so frightened.
Hermione was cleaning out her desk, readying for her time off -her pregnancy leave- when there was a knock at her door. Without looking up or considering it, she granted them admittance, assuming -and with reason- that it was simply a well-wisher coworker, come to see her off. There were jokes floating around the whole hospital that things would be less "uptight" without her there, and she laughed that off, but secretly worried that people would actually slack without here there to remind them of the rules and regulations. She fretted over the mess should would come back to in a few weeks.
Not a word spoken since entering, Hermione looked up to see who it was standing before her, having expected a "good-luck, we'll miss you," and instead getting a heavy weight of silence and dread.
She froze upon seeing Draco standing there.
"Draco," she gasped after finding breath in her lungs, surprised it was there at all.
"Granger," he said quite curtly.
"What, what are you doing here?" There were no pretences, she was unable to hide or excuse her initial shock and therefore didn't even try. Last she had seen and heard Draco was bedridden. It was only Wednesday, barely four days after his accident, and he was standing before her, not exactly looking peachy-keen, leaning generously on his cane, but steady on his feet -sort of.
Draco's look softened at her question, the bruises under his eyes looking more like dark circles then, and he suddenly looked almost timid, and certainly uncomfortable.
"May I close the door?" he asked, Hermione nodding and holding her hand out in a `feel free' manner. "Thank you," he said, closing the door and stepping further into the room, the large desk between them but the silence causing more bulk in the small space than any furniture could.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asked, trying to be polite but not in a way that could be interpreted as sarcastic. The way Draco glared at her with the healing cut across the bridge of his nose crinkling slightly with his distain, however, gave her the impression that he was not taking it that way. "Don't sneer at me like that, Malfoy. What are you doing here?" she demanded, challenging and unrelenting. She wasn't about to get pushed around by him. That had never worked for him in Hogwarts, and it seemed like he was keeping that same old wall up, and she was not required to tolerate it, even if he was her best friend's boyfriend.
"You really still don't like me," Draco said, not making that a question.
"It's hard to see what Ginny sees in you sometimes, when you act like you always have when around me. You still sneer and glare and get indignant. It's irritating, and you still have not answered my question. You should be in bed," she snapped, knowing Draco was snooping and letting how much she didn't appreciate that be known. Draco pursed his lips together and finally looked away.
"I came here for help," he admitted, voice dripping with shame, like he hated that he was here, that it was killing him to come to her, to ask her for help.
"What kind of help would you come to me for?" she asked, being just as disdainful.
"Gee, Granger, I don't know why anyone would go to a Healer…maybe for some healing -possibly," he sneered, Hermione's hair almost puffing out more with her agitation at Draco's belittling tones.
"You came here expecting me to fix you right up?" she asked, being just as immature.
They didn't like each other -that was no secret between them or anyone.
Hermione had been forced to tolerate Draco's bad attitude for the sake of hers and Ginny's friendship for months now, and she was frankly getting sick of it.
She was nine months pregnant, she didn't need this.
If Draco wanted to be a dick, he could do that on his own time, not bring all that bad blood up between them right now, when she had been having such a good day so far…
"I'm dying," he blurted out, interrupting Hermione's irate mental ranting, Draco well aware of all that was happening in her mind as though she had voiced said opinions out loud and to his face. It actually almost hurt more that she felt that way but didn't say it, where as if she had just blurted it out he could have come back at her with his own insults, even if they were just retaliatory. The fact that she genuinely felt such things for him made him feel less likely to be helped, and he knew he had no one to blame for that but himself.
"What?" she asked, caught off guard by what he had said.
"I'm dying, Granger," he said, a little more irritably, but his eyes giving it all away, revealing his true feelings on the matter. His bruised eyes were scared, lost, needy. He wasn't looking for sympathy, or reassurance, he was looking for help. It startled her to see his eyes bared so raw, he never allowed anything less than an arrogant sneer or smirk cross his expression while around her, no matter what manner of wellbeing he was in.
"I, I don't understand, you are fine…"
"Am I?" he barked, holding his arms out to the side a little as though putting himself on display. "I don't know, two concussions and a gaping head wound, weight loss on top of my already emaciated appearance, insomnia, broken bones, two seizures, fainting and dizzy spells…I know that amounts to tip-top shape in most people's opinions, but I have higher standards than the common man, being a Malfoy and all." His sarcasm was bitter.
"Draco, you have had a bad run this last week or so, starting from the moon. It will get better…"
"No, Granger, it is not getting better. Lycanthropy is deadly; you know this as well as I do."
"But you are young still…"
"But already showing the extreme signs of just how degenerative the condition is. I can't put on weight, my bones are as brittle as kindling, I ache all the time, I have a persistent cough…I'm about to be a father, I want to have a family with Ginny, but the rate my body is crumbling, I won't be around to see my kid grow up," he said, looking down because his face was starting to show signs of emotion other than his frustration at Hermione's lack of concern.
Hermione's tongue felt like it was swollen a little.
"You can brew potions now though, now that you have been pardoned of your crimes. You are limited in your wand usage, but you can brew a potion without a wand, you know this."
"I cannot get my hands on the ingredients I need, not legally at least, and you damn well know that. Besides, the potions I am thinking about are highly volatile, thus why they are so closely guarded and carefully dispensed by the Ministry. I could either cure myself, or poison myself, if I tried to brew on my own without proper guidance and care."
"Draco, I don't know what you would have me do. You have lycanthropy, there isn't anything I can do for that, but you are also not taking care of yourself, so what incentive is there for me to put my neck on the line for you? You don't eat, you never rest, you are a fall-down-drunk, you chain smoke…all these things are making your condition worse, yet you still do them, a LOT. You wouldn't be this damn sick if you kicked your bad habits on your own," she reprimanded.
"Fine," he said, reaching into his pocket, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and crushing them in his right hand before tossing them in the bin beside her desk. "I am a nonsmoker. I am trying to rest up but the nightmares…" he said, not finishing that, not wanting to talk to Hermione Granger-soon-to-be-Potter of all people about that and pressing on. "I drink because of them, and I know it isn't right, but it is all that helps."
"Harry does the same thing with his nightmares. You have to go to therapy, you have to talk about your dreams and feelings. Drowning your sorrows in booze does nothing but kill you."
"Fine. No drinking. Even with all that, I am still falling apart here."
"What would you have me do? No spell of any healing quality would work, you are too resistant to them, and I can't give you potions, I would lose my license," she argued, not sure what Draco wanted from her.
"Oh yes, Granger. I am dying, and will leave Ginny to raise our baby and my two children alone -but by all means, hold onto that precious license of yours," he snapped bitterly, Hermione cringing slightly at Draco's harshness, and his truth.
They both looked away at that point, Hermione unsure of what to say, Draco feeling like he had said too much, too much of his insecurity thrown out there and him feeling vulnerable.
Hermione chose to look at Draco then, really look at him, as he stood there, staring down her beige carpet. He was so thin, his already petite clothing practically hanging off of him. He was so bruised and broken, it was painful to even imagine him gimping around, all the way through the hospital just to see her. Forget what a hit his pride was taking.
There was no denying that he was dying.
She didn't want to admit it, but she agreed with him -at this rate, he would be dead, possibly by the next moon, his body just too rundown to make it through the taxing transition.
She knew she was somewhat to blame for this.
She had handed him over to the Ministry that night, all those years ago.
She had attested to his guilt in his trial.
She had rejoiced in his sentencing and actually griped over the fact she felt it hadn't been harsh enough.
Learning, however, that he had been innocent, knowing he had felt betrayed, seeing how Azkaban had destroyed him not only mentally, but physically, she kind'a felt like she owed him to help, to take care of him now when she hadn't originally.
"I owe you," she sighed, Draco following her mental struggles and arguments, feeling her sigh in defeat moments before she spoke, still refusing to look up at her. "I don't know what you need."
"I need something that will help me heal on my own, since spells will not help me. Nothing can heal a bone but for a spell and time. There are potions, hard to come by, which speed up the natural healing process considerably. I can heal up on my own in a quarter of the time with your help, so I can be strong enough for the next moon, so I can be well enough to be there with Ginny when our baby is born," he said, looking up at her meekly, hating he had to admit these weaknesses, but knowing it was hardly a secret either how fragile he was.
He had a mirror, he know how he looked.
"Those potions are dangerous though, they are highly addictive on top of them losing their effectiveness very quickly because a tolerance is built up," she said, Draco just looking at her with those cold grey eyes. "But you want potions," she said.
"No. What I want is for you to want to help me," he said, looking at her in an accusatory way.
Hermione sighed.
"I can get you what you need, but understand that discretion is essential."
"Oh, I don't want the supply of potions to stop, and giving up my dealer is certainly not the best way to go about that," he said, eager to get her to say the words, to agree to help him and say as much, so he could finally breathe.
"I have a condition," she said, Draco narrowing his eyes at her some more, feeling that if there was one person he could turn to for help who wouldn't extort him, it was Great Gryffindor Granger, but clearly he had been wrong. "Talk to Ginny about what the Ministry tried to do to you," she said and she could almost hear the walls close up behind Draco's eyes as he glared.
"I don't know what you are talking about," he drawled.
"Draco, they tried to sterilize you."
"I guess Potter needs to be explained exactly what `tell nobody' means," he grumbled, knowing Harry had already told Ron. Draco crossed his arms, his cast held against his chest by his good arm, back against the door for support while he left his cane to the side. He was too proud to use it while feeling so pitiful.
"Draco, you couldn't really expect-"
"Well, I guess that means he thinks you are a `nobody'," he jabbed, Grander glaring at him.
"I am his fiancé, you can't really expect him to not say something to me…"
"I don't blab every last thing to Ginny."
"And that is the issue right there, Draco. You should."
"Why?" he barked.
"Because this involves her too!"
"I didn't realize that MY reproductive system was now owned by her. I know she has laid claim to my trouser-dragon, but I think it really is my business what is going on down there."
"Draco, what the Ministry is doing is wrong, and it affects her because they will be going after her next. They won't do anything to a pregnant woman, but you know they will try and get to the baby."
"I know," he nearly shouted, easing back some, physically pressing his back against the door while running his fingers through the left side of his hair -the right side still full of staples and wounds- pushing it back out of his face while letting a slow breathe out. "I know they are going to try and take my baby away, I am dealing with that now."
"Alone. You are not working with Ginny."
"Have you seen her lately? Have you seen the stress she is under? Would you really like it if I doubled that at this point?"
"Draco, the stress isn't good for you either, look! It's killing you."
"Better me than Ginny, or the baby," he said, a queasiness taking hold of him at that point at even mildly touching on the idea of losing the baby when he and Ginny had each respectively gone through that once already.
"Draco, I will help you. I will see to it that you get better, but only if you promise me that you will stop excluding Ginny from aspects of your life. She is either a part of it, or she isn't. You need to decide which it is and go with it."
Draco looked down.
"I'm scared that the added stress will cause us to lose the baby, and with the Ministry trying to take my ability away, and with me dying, I fear this is my only chance, my last chance," he said, pulling his lips in to press them together, brow frowning, hair hiding his eyes from Hermione.
"I will make it so you get better, Harry will see to it that the Ministry doesn't touch you -or any werewolf- again, and you need to let Ginny in so that your spirit may heal. She will grow stronger with you there with her, supporting her as she supports you. She can take your pain, and you can take hers. Pain shared is-"
"Pain halved, I know," he sighed, hunching his shoulders because he knew Hermione was right and it killed him to have to admit it, while on top of asking for her help.
Asking a Mudblood for help, his Malfoy ancestors were spinning in their graves, if now crawling out to kill him themselves.
"Draco, don't be like this. You claim to love Ginny, so no matter what your feelings for me, do what I ask for her sake, don't do the opposite to spite me. You will only cause yourself more grief."
"You almost sound like you care."
"I care about Ginny," she said, Draco nodding slowly and turning his head away slightly, Hermione able to see the terrible wound deep in his hair where it had been chopped away some, leaving an almost bald spot in his already shortened hair, so raw and violent looking.
She knew he wasn't going to talk to Ginny, but she also knew he needed her help.
She was going to help him regardless, she could only hope she got him to think about talking to Ginny, that he might eventually -on his own- decide it really is what is best and do it.
Draco wasn't one who took orders and direction well, seemed like he resented it now.
---------------------------
Réamann looked up from his desk upon hearing the knock and his door opening, wondering who would be in such haste that they wouldn't wait for admittance. The answer to that left his stunned.
"Draco," he said, standing a little but Draco holding up his hand to gesture that it was unnecessary.
"Hello, Réamann," he said, taking those few steps towards Réamann's desk and sitting in the chair before it. He had let himself in because standing out in the hall where everyone was stopping to stare at him was not all that pleasant and he didn't need to be in an even worse mood.
He liked to think the stares were because he was just that strikingly handsome, but really, it was more like he was a carnival attraction, a sideshow freak, and it made him uncomfortable.
He hated when people stared.
"You were right, this is a posh office," he said rather conversationally, as though continuing the conversation they had almost had months ago. Réamann had officially moved up from being a simple communicator between the Muggle and magical Ministries, to being part of those who head it, Draco's work that past January really paying off nicely -for Réamann at least.
"What…what are you doing here?" he asked, his familiar stammer surfacing despite his best efforts to hide it most of the time. Draco seemed to have that affect on him. He wasn't sure what it was.
"It's nice to see you too," Draco drawled in his usual manner, though he seemed considerably more placid than was typical. Her almost seemed drowsy.
"Well, no, I didn't mean…um, hi…it is nice to see you," he said, looking at Draco from across the desk and carefully shuffling papers around as though to tidy up but really to cover the magazines that were open. He doubted Draco would be glad of the sight, Réamann reading the gossip pages that wrote such terrible things about him all the time. He was sure, however, if Draco was reading his thoughts, he was already aware.
Was it wrong to hope that Draco's head was hurt bad enough that he wouldn't be able to?
It had been months since the two of them had been face to face, and it had been as awkward then as it was now.
"Draco, it's good to see you," Réamann greeted, holding out his hand for Draco to shake but Draco not taking it. He never did. Réamann, not discouraged by Draco's coldness, went back to packing. He was moving the last of his belongings into his new office, the former so small and sad and empty but for the desk and shelves which would be staying.
Draco stood there, left arm in a sling, long hair looking a little tangled around the ends, clothing crisp and new but hardly hiding Draco's unease. It was February, and Draco was recovering nicely from being shot, and he seemed to be making some headway into that pile of Goblin Gold he had unearthed given the snappy threads and even snazzier car, but he didn't look all that happy. In fact, Réamann had to stop in his sorting to look back at Draco, the weight Draco had brought with him so distracting he couldn't ignore it.
"I take it you are not here to help, nor are you elated over my new position. If it is not to be a bother, or a help, why are you here?" Réamann asked, Draco now not even looking at him, the door slowly creaking closed behind him like he had nudged it backwards with his foot. After it latched and that singular noise was gone from the air, Draco finally took a breath.
"Ginny is pregnant," he said, no pretenses, no foreplay, no "hello" even. Réamann was left to stand there and stare, Draco's eyes very intently on the carpet.
"What?" Réamann asked, dropping his papers into the box before him haphazardly as he rounded the desk slowly, Draco's shoulders hunching more and more the closer Réamann drew.
"Pregnant, as in going to have a baby," Draco explained, preparing to be hit even though he could read Réamann's feelings and knew the shock far outweighed his desire to clobber him.
"Are…are you serious?"
"Would I joke about something like this?"
"Oh Jesus," Réamann groaned, leaning back to place his hands over his face while looking up at the ceiling, Draco rather unmoving still while Réamann fretted.
"There is an issue," he said as Réamann paced around the small room.
"Just one?"
"We don't know who the father is," he said, Réamann's mind having already gone there and thus his distress.
"You…You don't think that I…I am the father, do you?"
"Are you saying it is not possible?" Draco asked, sounding neither hopeful nor pleased.
"Possible? Well, possibly?" he said, Draco just tilting his head at that a little. "I…I don't know…You were sleeping with her too…"
"Thus the problem at hand," Draco snapped, not feeling up to having to hold Réamann's hand through this.
"This isn't happening…this isn't, isn't happening," he said, stammering on, Draco allowing him that much since he himself had gone through much the same dance already, once out of Ginny's company that is. It was easy to put a smile on his face and hold her still flat tummy and say he was excited over this, lying was something he was quite practiced at - a natural- but in all honesty he was scared shitless. Not only would the Ministry be after his balls -literally- there were so many complications to having a werewolf pup…Draco couldn't deny a large part of him wanted this baby to be Réamann's.
"It is happening, and I need your help…she needs your help," Draco said, looking away then, it never easy for him to ask for help.
"Me?"
"I need to know when you slept with her. Ginny wont do a paternity test, she is insulted by the very idea of it -she isn't even talking to me at the present because of my…skepticism. I do not mean to make her feel like a whore -as she claims- but this is a real issue. I need to know when exactly it was you slept with her last, so that I can figure out which of us could possibly be the father."
"I'm not ready to be a father…" Réamann said, voice so small due to his lack of breath.
"I wasn't either when I found out I was to be, but that doesn't mean you wont be a good one."
"But, you…you are with Ginny now. What will you two do if the-"
"Baby is yours?" Draco finished for him, Réamann swallowing hard at that. "Ginny and I want to be together, lord knows we have suffered through enough these last two months to have earned it…but a baby…so soon…it is a lot, a HUGE step. It will change our relationship no matter what, but if the baby is not even mine, well, it would just mean our relationship will just be that much easier…and that much harder."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, harder that you would have to be around, tossing a child back and forth between weekends, between parents, its not easy while maintaining an amicable relationship while dating other people, step-parents, half-siblings…" he said, trailing off while rolling his good hand at the wrist before getting back to point. "But it would be so much easier if you were the father because, well, besides saving me from being killed eight times over by the Weasley blokes…" he said and Réamann paled, "relax, they like YOU," he grumbled, noting Réamann's horror, "Ginny having a human man's child would make her life so much easier."
"Well…well…" Réamann stuttered, thinking to himself. "I haven't slept with Ginny since the start of November. It was our anniversary, but I hadn't been with her for weeks prior to you coming into the…picture," he said, Draco looking at him and daring to be hopeful, that only leaving him open to that all too familiar sinking feeling that urged him to sit down.
"Shit," he sighed, leaning his back now against the closed door.
"What?"
"You couldn't be the father then."
"Really?" Réamann exclaimed, his look of relief matching his tone, both being over the top. Draco just slumped and let himself slide to the floor. "Oh, oh Draco, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" he said but Draco just shook his head.
"No, no," he said, Réamann not really having anything to apologize for, unless it was a crime now NOT to get your girlfriend pregnant. Draco doubted that, if only he should be so lucky. "Ginny is only about two months along, meaning the conception couldn't have happened any earlier than mid-December," he sighed, hurt arm curled up against him, knees pulled up as he sat there.
"Does her family know yet?" he asked, Draco shaking his head. "Silly question, you're still walking," he said, meant to be teasing but Draco not laughing, fearing much a result as that.
Draco, mind back in the current, in Réamann's new office, sat very quietly. The man himself before him patiently waited for Draco to drift back to reality cleared his throat. Draco remembered that day he had discovered, beyond a doubt, that he was going to be a father with Ginny, and it was a memory that overpowered him whenever he was near Réamann, thus why he had avoided the man like the plague up until now.
Réamann recognized one of Draco's frequent drifts into his own mind and tried to act as though he hadn't noticed, that being what made Draco happiest.
"I was in the Ministry today and it occurred to me this question: how is Réamann Rossiter doing? Since I haven't seen you in a while, I thought I would stop by, see this nice office I have been hearing about." Draco's tone was so casual; it was obvious he was trying to compensate for his little mental stumble.
"You just thought of me and came by?" Réamann questioned, understandably doubtful.
"Well, awright, I wanted a serious chat," Draco admitted, his drawling more heavyset then ever before, eyes a little heavy looking.
"About?"
"What the Ministry is doing about that little incident involving me and a certain hooded attacker. I asked Ron what the Auror Department is doing about it, but he says it is being handled by the Beast Department because I'm a werewolf, but it has come to my understanding having just come from there that they passed it off to your department because it took place in Muggle London and there was a Muggle hospital involved," he said quite blandly, Réamann sighing.
"Nothing," he said, Draco looking at him. "My department is doing nothing about it."
"Nothing." He repeated the word with such a lack of enthusiasm; Réamann didn't have to even guess that Draco was angry.
"They made an official report on it and the case is considered closed." Réamann explained.
"I would like to see that report."
"Draco, I can't show you that, if anyone found out I could lose my job."
"Réamann, you remember that time I risked not only my job, but my livelihood to help you out on a little confidential case?" Draco drawled and Réamann groaned and caved. He stood with a bit of a furry and walked over to his failing cabinet, opening a locked drawer and filing through the papers there with his fingertips.
"They took your statement, the statement your doctor gave, looked at the scene, took into consideration your past and then your most recent accident, and basically dismissed the whole thing as you being psychotic and looking for attention, willing to nearly kill yourself to get it," he said, pulling the report and closing the drawer. He handed it to Draco, who took it, but it already basically explained.
"So that's it?"
"Afraid so," Réamann sighed.
"Can't it be reopened?"
"Sure, if there were any kind of evidence of foul play by a second party, but they looked over the scene of your attack, Draco, and found nothing to sway them into believing that there was anyone involved but yourself."
"What about all the attacks that have been going on across London, and the disappearances. Sure I may be barmy, but doesn't the fact that I am one of many werewolves harmed enough to establish reasonable doubt, a distinct pattern?"
"I don't know much about any of that, Draco, it's not my department, but from what I understand, no one is taking too great of a concern over it."
"I have noticed."
"I'm sorry I can't help you more, Draco," he said, truly meaning that.
"I think you can help me though."
"What?"
"I need you to reopen my case," Draco said, Réamann's eyes widening.
"Draco, are you cra…er.." he said, Draco's glare instantaneous and fierce. "Draco, you can't be serious."
"Quite."
"I can't reopen your case, you and I are connected, if but distantly, and no one would let me. More over I could lose my job if I start poking around where no one wants me. You are aware of the animosity in which the Ministry deals with you, right?"
"You owe me."
"I thought you said we were even? I wronged you, you took Ginny, we decided we had both done a lot and had broken even. You can't say things are square between us and then renege!"
"I'm only human," Draco said, just looking at him, those eyes so dull. He was either bored, indifferent, or not entirely there. Réamann had a feeling it was a combination of all of the above.
"Draco," Réamann sighed.
"Remember that time I took a bullet for you, effectively crippling my precious left arm so that you could, you know, live?" Draco drawled.
Réamann let his head fall and forehead thump against the paperwork and the firm wood below.
"Good boy," Draco praised dully, knowing Réamann was caving.
"You are quite the extortionist, aren't you," he mumbled.
"The Ministry has taught me well."
"Can't you have Ron do this?"
"No, it is obvious Ron Weasley and I are getting too chummy. I have no reason to like you, you certainly have no reason to like me given that I `stole' your bint and have caused you a lot of grief I the media…people won't think you are doing this for me."
"What about Harry?"
"What about him?"
"Couldn't he-"
"No."
"Draco…"
"He is doing his part."
"You know I want to help you, but, Draco, what you are asking for is…is just not possible."
"Someone is murdering my friends, Réamann, and I want to know who." Draco, for the first time during their visit, sounded heated.
"Draco, I feel terrible…I mean, it is not fair…it is wrong…but…"
"Réamann, they are going to take my baby away from me," Draco said, Réamann looking up from his desk to dare a glance at Draco. "I am not allowed to breed, and having clearly done so has the Ministry is a bit of a tizzy. They are doing anything and everything in their power to take my child and lock me up, criminally or mentally. I need to prove that I'm not just barmy, and that there really is someone out there with a vendetta against werewolves, and that I am just one of many targets, otherwise I could be looking at fines that will destroy my family, and time in Azkaban, which will destroy me," he said, Réamann closing his eyes, the weight of this hitting him all at once and almost making his dizzy. Draco was desperate, and Réamann could see why. "I just can't do it without help, I can't do it without you," he said, Réamann able to feel Draco's sincerity. He knew Draco wouldn't make something like this up, not when it came to his children.
"I don't know what you would have me do."
"I can give you all the names of those I know who have been attacked, or gone missing in the last eight months. I can give you statements and guarantee you the corporation of my pack if not the entirety of the werewolf community. If you submitted a report of these attacks, showing the clearly defined but obviously ignored pattern, the Ministry would have no choice but to look into it."
"You are being uncharacteristically optimistic, don't you think? If they are obviously ignoring it now, why would they look into it even if I do write up a report?"
"Because one: it will be on record and therefore harder to cover up rather than simply ignore, and two: I will be sure that Harry notices and uses his influence."
"You are that confident that you can manipulate him like that? You might not think so, but Harry is really smart."
"Harry's greatest shortcoming might just be his desire to help," Draco said, eyes dark.
"If they do take interest in this, I'm sure it would be taken over by the Beast Department at that point, and I won't be of any more help," Réamann argued.
"No, see, all the attacks have taken place in Muggle London, so your little department would be involved no matter how minimally, and I can use you as my eyes and ears into the investigation."
"Are you serious? All in Muggle London? How is it that this is the first time I'm hearing of this?"
"The Ministry is quite good at keeping quiet the things they don't want spread about," Draco said, his heavy bitterness there despite his indifferent delivery.
"Well…well…if I were to use the information you give me, and…and submit a report…I think they would be suspicious. My reports in the past have been written by you, and this case revolving around you in some aspect or…or another, they will be wary."
"They do not know about me writing those reports, unless you told them," Draco said, eyeing Réamann and him dipping his head. "I thought not. You have grown far too attached to your position and awards to forfeit them on the principle of truth."
"I offered to credit you, you declined."
"Neither here-nor there, they wont think to connect me to this, they don't know we are on speaking terms-"
"I didn't either…"
"And your interest in the matter will be just as abrupt as Potter's, and no one is claiming his attention has anything to do with me. He will undoubtedly jump on this, and he will have his work cut out for him. Though it pains me to say this, I am confident in his ability to see this to the end while doing all in his power to make things right."
"Why have such faith in a man who screwed you over in the past?" Réamann asked, wishing he could be more delicate with such a question but that being something he had never excelled at.
"Simple. He owes me," Draco said, looking confident and hooded eyed.
"And you are content in letting him handle this?"
"Oh, no. I will use him as a means of blow this wide open, but I will have my own sweet revenge on those who are trying to hurt me and those I care about, my pack," he said, Réamann swallowing involuntarily because the idea of Draco being a part of a pack, a pack of werewolves, was just so new, and unsettling.
"Revenge?"
"I have had a really bad month, and you know, sometimes you just have to kill a lot of people…" Draco said, his tone so bland yet hinting at so much enthusiasm, causing Réamann to swallow again, practically gulping air and coughing as a result.
"Draco, aren't you on anti-psychotics? Should you be having these sorts of homicidal aspirations?"
"Read about that did you?" Draco said, sounding bitter again, eyes flicking down towards Réamann's covered desktop where the gossip columns were hidden beneath. "I am, but understand that rational thought is relative. As a werewolf, I know how to deal with this, this being something you could never understand."
"I can't help you if you actually intend on killing someone."
"Fine, I won't kill anyone," Draco said quite agreeably.
"You're lying."
"Sure am, but you still owe me," he said, almost threateningly, looking Réamann dead in the eyes and staring him down.
Réamann had no choice, he owed it to Draco to help him…
-------------------------
"No sex."
"Hermione," Ginny complained.
"Are you trying to create complications where you are fortunate enough to not already have them?"
"It's just a little fun between the sheets, it's good for stress, it's nothing to…"
"Ginny, you are at high risk, you are advised and encouraged to abstain, I would flat out tell you you're not allowed if I had such authority, but it is your personal life…but as your care-giver as well as your child's, I have to stress how serious this is. Some would say you should be on strict bed rest…"
Ginny sighed as she sat down, in Hermione's office in St. Mungo's hospital, this being the first prenatal visit since the story broke about her pregnancy. Ginny knew she needed to go to specialists now, but Hermione was not only her best friend, but her primary caregiver so far in this ordeal, and she felt bad about having to leave her…but it was what was best for the baby. Ginny was in for her last check up seeing as how Hermione was about to go on maternity leave anyways, her due date a little over a week away and it obvious by how strained she looked. Ginny looked just as large while still a month behind, only causing more concern for Hermione to fuss over.
"Bed rest…I can't…"
"You will be seeing specialists, and they will tell you what is best, AND you will do it, I'm only warning you as to what they will most likely say. Spending your final month on bed rest wouldn't hurt one way or another," she said and Ginny glared at the floor for a moment.
"Fine, I'll try to put my libido to rest," she said, holding her stomach as Hermione gave her a look of total disbelief and even scoffing. "Hey, just because you are a woman who has NO sexual drive while pregnant doesn't mean I am a freak because I do," Ginny said, rather defensively, the two of them already having had this conversation more than once in the past. Hermione felt bloated, sore, and fat. She had no desire to be intimate with Harry. Ginny, on the other hand, felt rather fabulous. Yes she was stressed, tired, and her boyfriend was chronically ill while her personal, professional, and social life fell apart around her, but she still enjoyed sex, it was her one escape. Yes she had overly massive breasts and tummy which caused backaches, and swollen ankles, the usual pregnancy complaints plus morning sickness that had never left her, but she did feel otherwise fit, if not tired all the time. She blamed that on the stress. Some women enjoyed pregnancy more than others. Hermione had been miserable; Ginny was quite content, though not exceedingly jolly. She had a feeling she got that from her mother.
Hermione shook her head and grabbed a folder to read from.
"I have here a list of healers who I would recommend. Werewolf births are rare, the Ministry is typically on the ball with such things when it comes to discouraging such and event, so I'm not sure how this is usually handled, but Dr. Grieves is probably the best you will find. He doesn't have any sort of discernable bedside manner, so a lot of people who go to him hate him, but still go to him because he apparently knows his stuff, so that says something. If anyone can help you successfully induce labor and deliver a healthy baby within your most promising timeframe, it's him," she said quite confidently while closing her folder and handing it over to Ginny.
"Thank you for all you have done for me, `Mione. It means so much to me. Draco would never say or admit it, but he is grateful too. He wants this baby so bad," Ginny said, feeling almost sad at that point, thinking about Draco and his family situation, and how he had longed to be a father to a baby, to care for a baby, to hold his baby.
Hermione looked away at that point, already having had a visit from Draco earlier that morning. Apparently Ginny didn't know about that, as she had already assumed at this point.
"Have you talked to him on it?" she asked, delicately.
"Touched on it is more like it. It is hard to toe the topic, we are both too sensitive to the idea of losing the baby, and he doesn't like talking about his worries, he has a hard enough time talking about his past and such," Ginny sighed.
"You can't be so accommodating forever, Ginny, not with a baby on the way. It's not like if this doesn't work out between the two of you that you can just break up and part ways and be done with it like a normal breakup. You two are stuck, and that means you can't let him manipulate you like this."
"He is not manipulating me," Ginny fumed.
"Ginny, when have you ever allowed Harry to not give you a straight answer? Draco dances circles around an issue and you seem more ready to praise him for his form and vigor rather than get angry! You can't `toe' at issues with him because he always backs away from the line, Ginny, always, and that will not change, not once the baby is here, not when the kid is off to Hogwarts, so on. You need to get him to understand that you demand -that you deserve- the truth, no matter what it is, otherwise you set yourself up to be walked on. We both know that doesn't bode well for a strong relationship, and certainly not one that contains you given what a little firecracker you can be."
"You have been talking to Harry," Ginny weakly accused.
"I have known you since you were eleven," Hermione retorted, though them both attempting to be light given the seriousness of the matter.
"I can try talking to him about it, but every time I build up the nerve something else, new, terrible happens."
"He is already out of bed," Hermione argued.
"I know, and he shouldn't be! Yesterday he was in bed only humoring the idea of fetching his cane and attempting a stroll through the back garden. Today he says he is going to work! He is going to…" Ginny gurgled a little. She almost said "kill himself" but the words made her want to vomit. She couldn't even say them because the thought was too terrible.
"Draco is very good at taking care of himself, Ginny. In fact, I would have all the confidence in the world in your relationship with him if I had some kind of indication that he had half as much drive when it came to his care for you."
"Don't start this again. You do not know him, how dare you judge him," Ginny barked.
"Ginny, I am not getting in another fight over this with you. I am only saying, a man who can't trust his girl with the truth can't be trusted."
"You don't know him like I do…"
"No, I don't, but I do know that despite everything he is still willing to manipulate others and break rules if not laws to get his way. No matter what the reason or excuse, anyone who can do that so comfortably is not someone I can fully trust. He is an accomplished liar, and a damn good actor."
"How can you say that?"
"Because it's true."
Hermione then sighed, seeing Ginny sob there, holding her tummy. She knew she didn't see whatever it was Ginny saw, and accusing Draco of acting for Ginny wasn't fair because she didn't know him, but she could see that Ginny was stuck one way or another. In her was his child, she would never be free of him, for better or worse, and Hermione really needed to learn to accept that much.
"Ginny, you are my best friend, and I love you. I'm sorry."
"You are so unfair sometimes. You and Harry must have epic fights, you act just like him, always thinking you're right, always acting like you're so informed, always so sure of your knowledge in the matter that you don't take anyone else's perspective, opinions, or feelings into account…" she accused, though sobbing.
"Our fights have been known to jar the earth off its axis now and then," she said with a sad smile, holding her tummy and coming up alongside Ginny who sat on the examining table, face a little soppy.
Hermione leaned into her for a hug and Ginny refused her at first, just sitting there and Hermione put her arms around her, but eventually succumbed to the pressures of friendship and wrapped her arms around her friend, their big pregnant bellies between them, chins over each other's shoulders, hands rubbing their backs.
"Have you two decided on any names yet?" Hermione asked as she pulled away, Ginny blotting under her eyes.
"Have you?" Ginny quipped, still showing some signs of annoyance with her friend but her tone far from harsh.
"Harry wants a little James or Lilly, and though I think that is sweet, I don't want to name my child after his dead parents. It just creeps me out, you know? And why should he have full say? Why his parents and not mine? I was thinking of Casey but Harry is kind'a one minded…"
"Oh, I know," Ginny said, Hermione not needing to explain to her how impossible her once husband was. Ginny was already well aware.
"How about you and Draco?"
"We are down to about six names," she said and Hermione looked at her. "Three for a boy and three for a girl. It is a big decision and Draco is unrelenting in his hopefulness that we are having a girl, and though no one really knows, I just have this feeling deep in my core that we are having a boy, so I have been focusing on boy names, and I think that is irritating him into not reaching a compromise with me," she said, sighing at Draco's stubbornness.
"Well, what are the names?"
"He likes Edward, I like Kingston, and Lucas was thrown in but he felt it was too much like his father's name, which I tried to explain was kind'a the point, but he didn't seem sold of the idea, Michael already having his father's name as his middle. If he doesn't make a decision soon I'm going to name the baby after him and teach him a lesson," Ginny laughed, Hermione joining in.
"Oh dear," she laughed. "What of a girl?"
"I like so many names, but Draco has this thing for C names. Caroline, Crystal, Celsey, Cordelia, Cadence…"
"He wants a little princess, it's kind of cute."
"We have time to make a princess," Ginny said, holding her tummy as she leaned back, Hermione staring over at her in shock.
"You don't mean to say you intend on having more children with him, do you?" she asked, her dumbfounded astonishment manifest in her tone.
"Well, I'm not saying he and I are planning it, no…but I can't imagine it not happening again at some point, I mean, he seems to be unusually fertile," she said with a shrug.
"Ginny, I'm not joking here, and I'm not saying this to be mean…but you CAN'T go having children with Draco."
"Too late," Ginny drawled in a manner Draco had taught her.
"No, I mean," Hermione said, ruffling her bushy hair. "I know he hasn't said anything to you about this, and I just urged him to but I know he wont…"
"When?" Ginny asked, wondering when Hermione and Draco ever got together for a chat, regardless of topic.
"But it is expressly forbidden for werewolves to breed," Hermione continued, not acknowledging Ginny's question to press on with the issue at hand. "Draco keeping your pregnancy quite wasn't all to do with his love for privacy, but because he feared the Ministry. They are not happy about this, and surely they will be taking steps to see to it that you and he don't get in this situation again," she said, looking at Ginny and knowing this was all news to her and Hermione's anger with Draco coming right back.
"I…I know the Ministry is not thrilled, but honestly, it is a baby. Worse things have happened…"
"No, Ginny, understand this…Draco carries lycanthropy on a chromosomal level, it is what makes him a Greater Wolf, it is deeply engrained in his genetics. It affects every aspect of him, everything from habits and desires, to his looks if he didn't put forth such an effort to conceal such abnormalities. It also means that any child he has, who bares a portion of his genetics, will have lycanthropy as well."
"I now…I know my baby is a werewolf, Hermione…I'm reminded of it every day," Ginny snapped.
"Ginny, that is not what I mean to point out. It is that, Draco knew this, and so he making a child, by purpose or accident, is considered no different than if he went out and infected an adult with the disease. He is passing his condition on to another, and that is what the Ministry has their knickers in a bunch over."
"Are you saying Draco is in, like, serious trouble over this?" Ginny asked, heart beating a little harder then.
"I only know the skeleton of procedure due to working here in the hospital, and I have only learned a little more through Harry due to his sudden interest in the Beast Department…but I can tell you, I know enough to say that…" she stopped to consider her words. "The Ministry will be sure Draco doesn't have the option of having any more children after this. He probably wants a little girl so bad because he knows this is his last chance to have one," she said, delicately as possible but it still smacking Ginny across the face and leaving her stunned silent. Ginny looked that mortified even without her saying anything about Draco's fear of his own mortality. She kind'a understood then why Draco didn't say these things to Ginny. It didn't look like she would handle them well, but she needed to know.
"What…what do you mean make it so he `doesn't have the option'?" she asked, looking at Hermione whole holding her tummy protectively.
"Sterilization," Hermione just flat out said, Ginny's eyes widening.
"You can't be serious, the Ministry would never…"
"They have tried twice already, and Draco is fighting it, Harry is trying to stop it."
"Harry is trying to help Draco?" Ginny couldn't sound more shocked at this point if Hermione told her she was having octuplets.
"Draco hasn't said anything to you -obviously- and I know it's because he doesn't want to worry you, and I have encouraged him to go to you on the matter, but I don't think he will."
"I can't believe this," Ginny said, caught between outrage and fear, guilt and sadness. She was angry at Draco for not telling her, but her furry towards the Ministry far outweighed that. She felt sadness for Draco, but her guilt for having created this situation overshadowing that.
"Ginny, he needs someone to lean on, he is scared," Hermione said. She was not able to believe this but she was actually almost defending Draco at this point as to why he had said nothing to Ginny yet on the matter.
"How do you know?"
"He came to me, this morning. He was looking for some potions, because he is afraid, really afraid, that he is going to die, and I couldn't argue with him on that given how terrible he looks. I agreed to help him, if he agreed to talk to you on this matter."
"And you didn't even give him the chance?" Ginny then snapped, standing from the table, sliding to the floor to suddenly be up in Hermione's face. "You say he needs to talk to me but then tell me all he would have to say before I have the opportunity to see him? Before he gets the chance to do it himself?"
"Ginny,"
"You really think THAT low of him?"
"My opinion isn't what matters here," she tried to deflect.
"You are my best friend, and even though you screwed Draco over in the past, you can't see past your own opinions of him to see that he isn't who he once was, who he once tried to be. And you think HE is judgmental? At least he put his pride aside to ask for help when he knew he needed it. Seems like you can't put your pride aside to help even your best friend! Thanks, Hermione," Ginny snapped, turning to leave the room.
"Ginny, I told you because I WANT to help!" she called after her.
"You told me because it is just one more thing you do to try and convince me that Draco is a terrible person," Ginny spat back at her upon spinning at the door. "I have enough tabloids doing that for me already, I expected a LITTLE more support and understanding even, from my best friend!" she screamed at her before slamming the door shut, Hermione left to stand there, not sure at what point everything had gone so wrong. What had started off as her telling Ginny something because she cared, became her telling her because she didn't?
Hermione sniffed back her tears, rubbing the back of her hand under her nose.
She had packing to finish.
--------------------------
"And where have you been?"
Ginny turned around in startled surprise when realizing she was not alone in her office like she had assumed.
Sitting in the chair against the wall, and overlooked by the open door blocking him from view at first, was Draco. He looked quite comfortable sitting there, cane leaning against the arm of the chair, left leg crossed to let his ankle rest on his knee, eyes heavy as they had grown to become with each day of medication, more now than ever and her believing this might have to do with the potions he was apparently now being secretly supplied.
"Oh, Draco, you startled me," she said as though it was not obvious, placing her hand on her heart.
"I show up, endeavoring to be spontaneously romantic and take you out to lunch, and you are not even here, effectively ruining my whole attempt."
"Were you waiting long?" she asked, taking off her brimmed pointed hat and tossing it onto her desk, her traveling robe lightweight but still a pleasure to take off in the summer heat, her office stuffy.
"About fifteen minutes. Where were you?" he asked, standing with an obvious ache. Ginny hated that he wasn't in bed at the moment, but knowing he had potions now to speed up his healing, she had a hope that he wasn't actually harming himself by being out like she had first feared.
"I was at a check-up, you know, making sure everything is going good…I told you about it this morning, remember?" she said, knowing Draco was a bit more of a flake than ever before and feeling that had something to do with the medication, or at least hoping as much, rather than it being a result of the head trauma.
"Oh, right," he said, making an airily circular motion near the side of his head, showing his acknowledgment that he had had a lapsing moment and tried to brush it off, though Ginny knew it bothered him. "You are upset, what's wrong?" he asked.
"Don't read me," she snapped.
"I couldn't even if I wanted to, darling, my brain is oatmeal today. I can tell you are mad by your face. What's wrong?"
"Just Hermione and I fighting over the same old things."
"Me," he sighed, Ginny wanting to shake her head but knowing Draco could still tell if he was being lied to. "I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for, Draco, SHE is the one who is being insufferable."
"I wish there was something I could do to make you feel better," he sighed, inserting his arms under Ginny's to hug her from the front and gently rock her side to side.
"You came by to have lunch, that is awfully sweet," she said, smiling warmly at him then, praising him for his thoughtfulness.
Draco embraced Ginny firmly, tucking his nose behind her ear and lingering there for a while, eyes closed, smelling her. He was by far the best hugger she had ever dated.
"I went to see Marcus so I was already here at the Ministry. I figured, having the day off warranted me pissing away my time, and who better to do that with but my lover?" he asked, lips brushing her ear.
"I thought you had to work," she said.
"Connor took my shift," he said, working at Ginny's ear like she loved.
"He is a very nice man,"
"Couldn't ask for a better stepson," he said, breathing in her ear, Ginny feeling a familiar tightness grip her and a vibration in her core which caused a wrenching realization to snap her back to the present.
"Oh, Draco…I would love to, but Hermione says no sex," she said and Draco stopped in his rocking and pulled back enough to look at her.
"You talk about our sex-life with Granger?" he asked, sounding mildly outraged, as outraged as he could manage. He actually made himself seem more disgusted than anything, which was likely not far from the truth. "You better be honest in how stupendously fabulous it is or I will be quite emasculated."
"No…" she almost laughed, glad Draco was making humor of the moment since talking about Hermione after her fight left her far from jolly. "But she is my care-giver, and she saw the evidence of our behavior when examining me."
"Do I really leave marks?" he asked, Ginny pulling her collar down to show Draco the two hickies she had. Draco seemed both embarrassed and proud.
"Still have those fingernail marks down your back?" she asked, almost challengingly, Draco winking at her.
"Still, Draco, all joking aside…she is not policing our personal life,"
"Like hell she isn't trying," he grumbled.
"She is just concerned for the baby. She says -strongly advises and stresses- that we should abstain until the baby is born. The risk of pre-mature labor or even miscarriage is too grate as it is, and intercourse only increases those risks," she said sadly, looking into Draco's eyes and trying to assure him that everything was fine otherwise, nothing to be worried about, just a precaution, nothing major.
"But…no sex?" he said, understanding already what Ginny wanted to get across and now hung up on the detail that irked him just that much more. He had come to Ginny's office in the past, and had sex with her. Once during their affair he had snuck up to her office to have sex with her on her desk. It had been a real rush given how easily someone could have caught them, discovered the affair, gotten an eyeful. Since then, once everyone knew they were a couple, he would stop by once in a while, causing heads to turn. Most of the time it had just been for casual greetings and some time spent in each other's company. Occasionally, however, it had been him bending her over her desk and…well…it wasn't that he was feeling all that fabulous today, and Ginny was too pregnant to be hoisting her about and fucking her brains out…but he had hoped for a little naughty business, to keep the nosey secretaries out in the hall gossiping.
"I know," she said, hugging him again. She held him for a moment before a smile broke across her face that reeked of pure mischief. "She didn't say anything about fooling around in other ways though," she said, Draco's eyes opening as he realized that too, a smirk pulling at his lips while he held Ginny close still, her hand reaching down for his belt.
-----------------------
"Why can't you tell me what this is all about?" Ginny laughed, Draco walking behind her so close his body was bumping against her back, his right hand reaching up and around to keep her eyes covered, guiding Ginny along carefully.
"It's a surprise. The nature of it is that I cannot tell you," he drawled, helping Ginny up the stairs, whispering to her when there was an obstacle to be mindful of, laughing each time she demanded to know what he was up to. She had come to understand that Draco was a sweetheart and a total romantic underneath all his protective layers, but he never ceased to surprise her with some of the spontaneous and quirky things he did in the name of his love for her. Dancing around in his underwear and socks while singing her love songs into a hairbrush was only one of them, but certainly a favorite, one that he would deny adamantly should anyone find out.
"There is a doorway…just there," he directed, Ginny raising her arms in preparation, her left feeling the wood and holding onto that as she walked with Draco into the room. "Okay, stop, stop," he said softly, hand still over Ginny's eyes.
Ginny was grinning wide despite herself, still giddy after their little romp in her office. They hadn't had sex, well, she hadn't at least. A little foreplay and such was all fun, and it had been a while since she had tasted him, so it had actually turned out to be a nice change of both scene and method. He rarely asked for it, but she knew he loved it, really loved it, and she didn't mind pleasing him when he was always so ready to do the same for her. The pleasure for her came from pleasing him. Maybe that was sappy, but it was true.
"Awright," he whispered into her ear, knowing that drove her crazy to feel his warm breath there. Ginny giggled and didn't open her eyes right away after Draco removed his hand, but when she did her mouth dropped open.
They were home at Number Twelve, in the nursery, but it wasn't the sad, half-empty state of plastic tarps and unopened paint cans it normally was, it was a fully painted, furnished, and finished room, ready for baby. Ginny looked around at the bright bold colors, the happy jungle animals running around on the border, the dresser and changing table in place, the rug in the center of the room, the curtains hung…it was just like she had imagined it, and had described a hundred times to Draco.
"Draco…" she said, breathless, speechless, thrilled to the point of stunned.
"I know I have been the root of a lot of your stress lately, and I know I have been rather unrelenting in my stubbornness over a great deal many things which have only cause you more headaches," he said softly, Ginny wide-eyed as she looked around the room, trying to shake her head to what he was saying at the same time but Draco pressing on. "I wanted this to be part of my apology," he said into her ear, still pressed up against her back like before but hugging her this time, chin hooked over her shoulder so he could see all she was looking at.
"You, you wanted white though," she said, looking around at the cheery room and it being how she had dreamed, but not how he had. It was everything she had wanted in the room, but nothing of his.
"Maybe this will help me get a little more say when it comes to the name?" he asked, Ginny laughing because she knew he was hopeful, but teasing.
"I don't think so," she said, Draco just breathing in deeply her scent and hugging her a little tighter under the breasts but over the stomach. "When did you have time to do this? How did you do this? You have been in no way up to such an undertaking," Ginny said, knowing the room was still fresh, probably even still wet in spots.
"Having a grounded son has its advantages. I have one good arm, he has two, and a considerable reach, so between the both of us with a little help from Nymphadora and Remus, we got this nearly done last night, finished it this morning," he said, knowing Michelangelo had made a stink about having to do such work, but Draco knowing his son was starting to get anxious about being a big brother again, this time to a much smaller sibling. He had just been introduced to a brother, now he was soon to have another, if not a sister, and Draco knew Michelangelo was excited as well as scared shitless.
He understood the feeling.
"There are two cribs" she observed, seeing the two similar but still distinctly different cribs, one on each wall.
"I couldn't decide between the two," he said meekly as he pulled away to stand beside her now, the lie weak, especially for him. It was obvious that he had come to terms with the very real possibility that they were having twins and had made accommodations should the likely event occur.
"Lions?" she asked, looking at the giant stuffed animals settled in each crib, like place-holders, their big button eyes staring off into nothingness, their fluffy manes golden and clean.
"They go with the jungle theme," he said rather defensively, "And I knew my Gryffindor girlfriend would appreciate them."
"Yeah, but I would think the Slytherin daddy wouldn't approve."
"There is a big, green, stuffed snake wound around the leg of the changing cupboard over there, don't think of this as any kind of secession on my part, our little girl is going to be in Slytherin," he said quite confidently.
"Well, when our little boy is sorted into Gryffindor, I will be sure to offer you a tissue," she teased, Draco leering at her and Ginny laughing. "This is so perfect, Draco, oh-my-god," Ginny said, surprising him by gabbing the sides of his face in her palms and kissing him. He kissed her back, hands resting in that deep sweep that had become of her lower back, knowing his baby was coming, and hoping that he would be allowed to keep it, him unable to admit to Ginny the reason he hadn't come to a decision on the nursery yet with her was he couldn't bear the act of establishing, and furnishing a room, for a child he wouldn't have. If the baby didn't make it, or if it was taken from him at birth, to have to eventually dismantle the room would crush him, not to mention Ginny. The fact that they were not in the clear yet, but were standing in the room now made his eyes well-up with tears. Ginny felt his shoulders shaking, and a warm tear hit her cheek.
"Draco," she said, this moment having been so happy, so beautiful, so perfect, and now he was crying. She was used to these sorts of mood swings for him, but that didn't make them any more predictable, or easy.
"I'm sorry," he said, not crying, but eyes watering, shoulders shaking. It was obvious he was crumbling on the inside but trying to hold it together. He seemed to have it in his mind that it was unacceptable for men to cry.
"It's alright," she said, hugging him tight. She had a feeling she knew what this was about, given what Hermione had told her. "I wish you would confide in me."
"I do," he said softly.
"Then why didn't you tell me about the trouble you're in with the Ministry over this baby?" she asked, trying to sound understanding rather than accusatory, because that's the last thing she intended.
"I…I didn't want you to get in trouble," he said, knowing Hermione must have said something to Ginny, them each having seen her that day and Ginny clearly agitated after leaving her appointment. She said they had fought about him again, Draco thought he now knew the reason, without needing to read her.
"Draco, you can't protect me by keeping me in the dark, lying to me, and pretending everything is okay. Things are not okay, that is the way of life, but I can help things get better with you. Things can be better even when they are not great, when you have the support of someone you love."
"Then you know about the situation?" he asked, a little timidly.
"I was told the Ministry wants to make it so this situation never arises again."
"They tried to sterilize me…again," he said and Ginny hugged him tightly so he wouldn't see her horrified face. "It wasn't carried out, again…Potter intervened and promised to say nothing about it -clearly he failed in that much- but the Ministry is still angry. They will take this baby from us if they can," he said and Ginny shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes then. Draco wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her tight, held her in a way that was so possessive and protective; it was almost a little insecure. "I will not let anyone touch you Ginny, no one will take our baby," he said, that being a promise.
"Why are they doing this? Why does it have to be like this? Can't they see that you are just a man, and I am just a woman, and we are having a child, a child conceived between two loving people, something beautiful?" she sobbed, Draco rocking her.
"I don't know, my love. I don't know," he said, standing in that cheery room, crying with the mother of his yet-born child, uncertain of their fate, and scared shitless over their options.
-------------------------
"Where have you been?" Draco asked, very casually leaning in the doorway to the parlor, his mother having just walked in from the hallway, opening her jacket as she went but surprised by Draco's presence. She had just come in, it was evening, and she hadn't been home all day.
"Oh, Angel-dear, you startled me," she said with a breath out as she shook out her open jacket, looking flustered, more than she should have been if she weren't guilty of something.
"Where were you?" he asked again, looking at her, wishing his medications didn't make his mind so fuzzy because he couldn't read anyone properly today, though his mother was always a particular challenge given that she had learned Occlumency, like both his aunts had. He could pry if she didn't have anything to hide and didn't put forth an effort to stop him, and the fact that she was stopping him now gave him a strong feeling she was hiding something. He was sick, she wouldn't have to try so hard to keep him out if she weren't scared he would manage to see something he wouldn't like.
"Last minute shopping for the shower," she said, such a good liar, Draco learned it from her after all.
"You bought Ginny her shower gift weeks ago," Draco said, Narcissa's lie bad, her delivery what was flawless. "You have been awfully scarce since this whole Connor issue arose," he then accused and his mother's habit of wrinkling her nose when flustered giving her away. "You knew about him and never told me?" he asked, sounding hurt when his dull eyes could not look it.
"I didn't think it was my place to say anything."
"That has never stopped you before. I mean, you hated Christina, you made that much clear from the moment I told you about the two of us, but letting me know that my wife had a son -who incidentally is my age- would have been a nice tidbit to know when spewing out all the other reasons you hated her."
"Angel, I talked to her about it way back in the beginning. She and I might not have been close, but we were civil. We discussed the matter and agreed that it was best that you not know, Connor not being a part of her life at that point. It would have served you no good to know, and it would have only further complicated your already difficult relationship."
"Then why not tell me later? Christina has been dead for nine years, I have been out of Azkaban for almost four…at no point you thought maybe it should be brought up?"
"For what point or purpose? To make your life that much more tumultuous than it already is? He didn't want to be a nuisance, so I…"
"Wait, you mean you talked to him?" Draco interrupted, blinking at his mother.
"Angel, I never lied to you," Narcissa started by saying. "I located Connor some time after getting out of Azkaban. He was already aware of you and of your family with his mother. He asked if I would keep his existence a secret, and I honored that."
"And I don't even have to ask you your feelings on the matter," Draco said, as coldly as he could manage, which was lukewarm at best. He just didn't have the emphasis he normally could tag onto his drawling tones. He actually just sounded tired.
"Angel…"
"You thought she was a whore, and I always assumed you were implicating her in her tacit infidelity. I didn't realize all those years you were alluding to the fact that you knew she had a son."
"You are angry with me," Narcissa sighed.
"Yes, I damn well am, and you still haven't told me where you have been," he drawled moodily.
"I was out with my sister, Angel, I have been known to do that," she said quite crisply, standing perfectly straight, hair in her always no-nonsense bun. She had started growing it out in the past few months, going from a crisp short cut to a longer more youthful style if it weren't for the fact that she wore it in such a serious bun. Draco thought this change was odd.
"Not by choice you don't."
"Things change," she said, moving past him while using her "that's that" tone that Draco had learned to use with his own children, implying that the conversation was over. Draco knew that was her intent, but pressed on, he wasn't a child.
"So what has changed? It certainly isn't your relationship with Aunt Andromeda, I know, because I called her two hours ago looking for you and she said she hadn't seen you since my birthday party," he said, unfolding his arms to follow after his mother who froze by the table where she had set down her purse and it was obvious by her shoulders that she was holding her breath, and if Draco knew her, she was pursing her lips together while considering her words. "Why lie to me?" he asked, sounding a little hurt.
"Draco," she sighed, turning around, Draco not taking much comfort already in his mother actually using his name. "I'm tired, and I really don't think I have to explain to you where I have been. You can be mad at me over Connor if you like, but understand that I have a life outside of being your mother, and the formally acting mother for your children. I am not out playing bingo, and I'm not out clubbing either. I am something in-between those things, none of which is any of your business," she said quite crisply, walking away right then with a dignified fury that left Draco to lean there, pouting slightly, irate and annoyed, perplexed and curious.
"Dre?" Ginny asked, walking in after having Narcissa practically storm past.
"I think my mother is seeing someone," Draco said, looking beyond Ginny though his mother was no longer in view.
"I think she is just getting a breath of fresh air now that she no longer carries the responsibility of being the mother to your children," Ginny said, though not disputing what Draco said, opening up more than just that one option instead. "She was married to your father and a mother to you since she was, what, eighteen? She spent three years in Azkaban after her life fell apart and then acted as a mother to your two children for more than nine years. Now she is finding more freedom than she has ever experienced in, well, probably her whole life. Let her enjoy it, I think she deserve it," Ginny said, the whole time walking up to Draco and inserting her arms under his and wrapping them around him, hugging him with her big belly between them, smiling at him as he continued to pout. "I don't honestly think your mother is dating anyone, Draco," Ginny assured, not sure why she felt that way, just sure of it. Narcissa was up to something, that was true, but it was certainly nothing nefarious nor odious. Draco seemed to think there couldn't be anything possibly worse than his mother dating, and Ginny didn't exactly think that was fair. Narcissa deserved a bit of happiness, in whatever it was she found it in.
Draco sighed, and finally relented in his pouting to hug Ginny back, kissing her forehead and rocking her side to side.
"You up for tonight?" Ginny asked, knowing Draco was still weak, but the potion he had received doing wonders for him.
"Physically I feel better than I have since before the moon, which is surprising and I hope it lasts," he said, knowing he had only answered half of Ginny's question at that point. "You know I always feel a little awkward amongst all your friends and ex-Order members. It's like they are all staring at me," he finally admitted, Ginny smiling kindly at him.
"But you love babies."
"They are delicious," he said and Ginny dropped open her mouth and elbowed him, Draco "umph"ing but smiling at the same time, wrestling with Ginny's arms and eventually overpowering her so that he had her wrists and Ginny could do little to stop him as he leaned in to kiss her.
Author's Note:
Wow I work a lot. Only 64.5 hours this week, but gosh do I find it difficult to find time to work on this fic. It is Draco's birthday though -HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY- so I HAD to update.
Was this update everything you were hoping it would be? Yes there was angst, but Draco is getting better, he will actually be close to healthy for a while, unless some unforeseen (by me) event happens and he is hurt or sick again. I don't THINK so, so here's hoping.
What is up with the investigation? Can't wait to get back into it, it's what I loved about BEA.
I hate Granger.
Ginny and Granger fight a lot. Lol.
Draco's nursery is SO cute!!!! He is such a good daddy. *sighs*
Yes, Connor is a little depressed over having seen his mother in those home movies, being lovey with her other children. *sad face*
What is up with Narcissa? Lol
Are Ginny and Draco having twins?
Who is attacking the werewolves?
When will Draco hook Ron up on that date he promised?
Hhhmmmmmm
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DRACO! He is 28 today. In my fiction he is 30, so two years from now this all happens, I SWEAR!!!! XD
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