Fallen Angel
Chapter 05
Draco was not building up to the coming full moon in high spirits or in a good mood. The tension in the house had shot up to a seemingly impossible new high since Michelangelo's apprehension by Muggle police. This time, however, it wasn't Michelangelo avoiding the family out of spite, but out of fear. He was in trouble and a serious amount of it it seemed, and he was making himself scarce as a result. Draco's desire to keep the matter private was most certainly foolery. The wizarding press had caught wind of the troubles in the Malfoy household and was quick to jump in with their own rendition of events and their own speculations.
"Michael Malfoy Arrested for Terrorizing Muggles" the headline read, underneath expanding to say "Does Ginny, Draco Malfoys pureblooded prize, know what she is getting into?" while then continuing into an article that depicted Michelangelo in the worst light possible, citing students from the school who accounted the instances that Michelangelo had squabbled with them (like any typical student really but made out to be something far worse,) and the occasion where he had used the egregious term "Mudblood" and had received a stern reprimand. It spoke of Michelangelo being a "problem child" for some months in regards to his acceptance of his father's new girlfriend and his rejection of the Weasley family, saying he didn't "feel them worthy" to be a part of his family, all which was unsubstantiated but no one reading it thinking to question it. The article then went on to speculate as to who Michelangelo's mother was because, as of yet, it was not known with whom Draco had produced himself two children, and Draco would like nothing more than to keep it that way.
The account of the "parking lot incident" was written up to be sensational, meaning very little about it was true, and no Muggles had actually been "terrorized," but the article was accurate in saying that there was a serious issue in the Malfoy household. Though Michelangelo was not the entire root of it like what was being claimed this week, it was hard for Draco to face to public and press and try and act like everything was fine and dandy.
"I am not defending him, but you have to admit, the reason why he would end up doing this, and Clarissa would not, is not because you are a bad father, or him a bad seed, but because girls simply have more of a sense of consequence than boys" Ginny tried to comfort. "I would know, I have six brothers," she said, being as lighthearted but as serious as she could manage at the same time.
"I just don't know what to do," Draco groaned, so wishing he could just curl up in a ball and cry and when he was finished everything would be okay; but life was not that simple, not anymore, not since he was a little boy.
"Michelangelo needs to be dealt with firmly, but you know better than anybody how he truly feels. Does he feel terrible just because he was caught and frets the trouble he's in, or does he honestly feel bad about sneaking out and such?" she asked, as delicately as possible.
"He hates that he is in so much trouble, and is scared shitless of what's going to happen to him, but he understood the seriousness of the situation long before he got picked up. He seemed oblivious to his destruction, it all being fun and games, until he cracked that window. He seemed to have sobered up at that point a whole lot while the other boys just got all the more riled," Draco explained, running his hand through his long hair.
"So you see? He is not a bad kid, like I said, just no sense of consequence. What are you going to do? I mean, ground him yes, do whatever is court mandated yes, but…"
"But what?" Draco asked.
"You think that is enough?" she asked.
Draco took a deep breath and said nothing for along moment. Ginny thought he wasn't going to answer him, so she made to speak again, but he chose then to reply.
"When I was seven, or possibly eight -I can't remember- I had a broom that I loved more than life itself. It was expensive, and I cherished it, but I was not allowed to ride it in the house. That summer it was so wet, rained every day, and I was not allowed out in the rain because my mother was convinced I would get deathly ill, so I had a serious affliction of cabin fever and a top-of-the-line broom I couldn't ride," he said, Ginny not sure where this story was gong but sure it was in some way relevant, that he would be answering her question. Draco never talked about his childhood, so Ginny dared not interrupt, though there was a heavy sense of dread that came with this tale. "Disregarding my father's orders led me to crashing into a particularly prized trinket of some sort or another, and breaking it. I tried to hide what I had done like any child would, but I was of course caught. My father was furious. He was angry that I had not listened to him, that I had damaged something he cherished, and then tried to cover it up."
"What happened?"
"He threw me into a wall, in anger after giving me a firm shake, and broke my arm," Draco said dully. "I was patched up within the hour by our residential healer, but my father was so horrified that he had hurt me in such a way, he let me get away with murder for a long time after that. Part of the reason I was such a handful was because I lacked a lot of discipline and the only kind I did receive was disproportionably harsh."
"You have never hurt Michelangelo," Ginny said, though not positive about this because she had only been part of their lives for the last six months, but Draco was certainly looking torn up.
"No, but I have my father's same damn temper. I have never raised a hand to either of my children in anger, but I'm afraid the effect is still the same. I am so terrified of hurting them, like my father was with me, that I just don't discipline them at all. Clarissa is sweet as sugar-pops right now, so it's a non-issue, but now that Michelangelo is being more of a handful, I can't seem to control him. I seem to swing back and forth from being too harsh to letting him get away with murder, just like my father had been with me," he admitted, running his hands through his hair and leaving them there to grip his roots.
"And because things went so badly for you, you fear that Michael is heading that same way," Ginny said and Draco refused to look at her. "Your father was not a bad father, and nor are you," she comforted, knowing that was exactly what Draco was feeling at the moment, at least in regards to himself. "Boys will be boys, like my parents always said. Yes, that led to my brothers getting away with a lot more than I ever could because they were boys so `what can you expect?' but they didn't turn out terrible either. Michael made one really big mistake, but it's almost a good thing that it is out of his system now, early. You caught him, and he seems remorseful, and so long as you don't cheat him on the punishment, he will learn from this, Draco, he really will."
"But the papers, he hasn't seen them, but he will."
"The papers say a lot of terrible things about you, me, and a lot of other people. He knows already that what they write is not true…"
"But he also knows how much such lies bother each of us, so how can you expect him to be unbothered by stories he reads about himself when we avoid the papers as we do?" Draco asked.
"I don't know how to make this better, Draco," Ginny sighed, understanding Draco's predicament, but the nature of a predicament being that there seemed no easy means out of it.
"I just need a lot of hugs, starting with one from you," Draco said, turning to curl up against Ginny who welcomed his hug willing and gratefully. Draco was like a little boy in many ways, still looking and actually finding comfort in hugs. He could fool himself for a short time into believing that there were no problems in the world so long as he was in a hug. Ginny almost envied him for that, for having such a complete escape.
"You hear?" she offered, trying to move past this depressing topic, even though it was still unresolved, only because they were not going to work miracles that morning, "The birthday party has been bumped up," Ginny said, hoping that would cheer Draco up. It didn't.
"Yeah, they moved it to be two days after the full moon. That's kind of them. The best way to go about un-inviting me is just creating unavoidable circumstances that would prevent my attendance," he sighed.
"That, that is not what…"
"It is," he said flatly, still hugging her. "Two days after the full moon, long enough that it can be chalked off as just an oversight of theirs that they believed it was long enough for me to be alright and make it, but still soon enough that I honestly probably wouldn't."
"They wouldn't do that…"
"They read that article about Michael just like you did, just like the rest of Britain did. They thought Michael is a problem child to start with, and that article certainly did nothing to alter those beliefs."
"But-"
"Let's just not talk about it. They don't want me at the party, Clarissa was right, my birthday was a month ago now, and the fact that they are bumping Harry's and Neville's birthdays up almost a whole month to just try to exclude me is enough trouble. They can have their birthday, I have survived years without having celebrated one," he said, giving up on his hug at that point and Ginny left sitting there, feeling awful. What was supposed to be something that would unite the family, delaying Draco's birthday to have it the same time as the other two boys as a great summer birthday bash, turned out to do the exact opposite.
"Draco," she attempted as he walked away.
"I have a lot to do before dinner, I still have to write in my journal -doctor's orders- and the full moon is Saturday so I should try for some decent rest," he said, leaving Ginny to sit there.
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"You inconsiderate, selfish, insensitive, tosser!" Ginny screamed while slapping at her twin brothers, taking turns slapping and insulting each of them. They did little to shield themselves from their aggressive and irate pregnant sister.
"How dare you move the party up just so as to exclude Draco from it! To use a debilitating illness of his against him like that? You foul despicable nasty bastards!"
"Gin, please, it wasn't just us…"
"Oh, like telling me that the whole family is conspiring against Draco is any better?" she shouted, considering her wand next as she hit them with each word. Alternating between hands each time.
"This isn't meant to exclude him, but his birthday was in the beginning of June, it's silly to wait until the end of July to celebrate it. Having the party now at the beginning of July , right between the two, works out best for everyone…"
"Oh, don't play it off like you are doing Draco any kind of favor! You would have chosen a day before or a few more days after the moon if that were the case! Draco can see through your attempt, you choosing a day after the moon but still too soon for him to feel up to making it, but long enough to make it seem like an honest lapse on your part! You foul goolies!"
"Gin, calm down…please, don't get this worked up, come on, think of the baby," Fred attempted, which only caused Ginny to lapse into a fit of tears. She plopped down on the couch in the back room of their shop and sobbed, her identical brothers standing before her in their shop robes, looking a little harassed and more than a little concerned.
"Like you care about the baby," she hiccupped.
"We do, it is our newest little niece,"
"Or nephew," Fred and then George assured.
"You hate Draco, the father. You resent him, and want nothing more than to exclude him from this family," she sobbed, balling a white handkerchief to her face and wringing it in her hands.
"No, Ginny, please," Fred pleaded, kneeling down before his only sister.
"We don't have a problem with Draco, we were the first to extend to him a little support since the news of you two, uh, getting together broke," George reminded her.
"Then why is none of the family talking to him? Why is no one talking to me?" she wailed. "I have been working hard, moving, painting, dealing with two children that are not even my own, and my own brothers won't even take the time to fucking help me!"
"Ginny, we're sorry," Fred assured, holding her hand but her just ripping it away to blow her nose with her handkerchief.
"I was the one that was upset after the party, with that mess with Michael and Derry…"
"And you read that article about Michael getting into trouble, did you? Felt it rationalized your behavior, exemplified you in what you were doing?" she barked at George.
"No, no," the brothers attempted.
"Do you even know what Derry and Phinn did?" she growled, mopping at her face. "Derry started barking at Michael, like a dog, George. He barked at him! Michael blew a gasket and lunged at him and Phinn tried to pull him off of Derry and was only successful after calling him a freak!"
"Gin…"
"How is Draco, or Michael, supposed to feel welcomed by our family, if they are ostracized like that, that everyone will turn their backs on them at the drop of a hat? Draco has a lot of issues, and you are only reinforcing them with how you treat him! He is never going to get better if every attempt he makes in connecting with people and trusting gets thrown back in his face! And Michael…he is going through a rough time and how do you expect him to come out on the other side as a better person if his own family won't even give him a chance?"
"Ginny, we're…"
"No, no, I won't hear it. It is not me you should apologize to, it's Draco," she said, holding her hand up and cutting her brother's off in a way that was believed to be a talent that was exclusive to Molly Weasley.
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"Down that way is the access to the yard, or pit as we call it," the tall woman explained as she led Draco through the `ropes' the following morning like she had promised. Draco was chained and muzzled, being led as though this were the full moon. He was being demonstrated all the precautions that would be taken, as he was shown the exact route they would be trekking.
"You will be stripped of all clothing prior to your change, and this will either be done through your consent and willingness, or through force, it is your choosing. As you are resistant to most spells' full effect, physical force will be employed to subdue you should you try anything, so my suggestion would be: don't."
Draco was looking around, chin down, muzzle covering his nose and mouth. It was leather, and it was strapped in place around his head like one for a dog would be, but it was flatter with only a slight bulge for the nose, because he didn't actually have a muzzle. Other than three small holes for breathing it was solid, and it was uncomfortable. Draco hated it, wanted to pull at it, but his hands were shackled together. Chains led from each of his wrists to a guard on either side of him, two more chains attached to his collar and went to the guards in front and behind him. Draco felt like he had more than fifty pounds of metal hanging on him, and his feet ached from the cold as he attempted to walk without stumbling, the clinking of chains ominous in the cold stone chambers and hallways they passed through.
"There are no other werewolves on the block, at the moment, but expect that to change once the trials are run through," she continued. "Your routine will not change, but the haste and time in which we move you likely will. You might be taken up there a few hours preceding the shift, to accommodate all the others that too will be here. We would leave you in your cell, typically, but it is documented that you are a Greater Wolf, so we cannot risk it. Until the stronger cells are built, for your transformation you must be relocated," she said before glancing back at him. "This way." She entered an extremely cramped and tightly spiraled staircase at that point that lead to somewhere high above. It was difficult, with all the chains and the guards attached to him, for Draco to climb, and when he stumbled he couldn't catch himself with his hands, leaving him to hit the cold stone hard and be yanked to his feet to only stumble more by the impatient handlers.
"Here we are," she announced some time later, opening a weather-beaten door that groaned to reveal bright sunlight that seared Draco's eyes and caused him to flinch and look away. Pausing for just that long resulted in him being yanked by the chain at his throat and he was led out onto what seemed like a rooftop.
"As you can see, there isn't much cover up here," she explained, stating the obvious. Draco looked around as the freezing wet air whipped across him, causing his over-sized clothing to flap and whirl about his tiny frame. "The cages are bare bars, but they are firm. The weather is harsh here, as you can tell," she said, her and the guards all bundled up warmly and her holding the gap of her coat at her throat closed tight, "But as a wolf you will manage," she said, Draco distinctly recalling her mentioning that he might end up being led up here and left to wait for the full moon for several hours, and that he would be stripped naked first. Did they really expect him to be able to endure this harsh winter weather while perched atop a tiny island in the middle of the frozen sea, naked and alone for a handful of hours?
"This is only temporary, proper holding cells are being constructed," she assured, as though able to know Draco's thoughts on the matter but not promising him any kind of precautions they would take at the present to keep him from dying up there.
"Right, well, back to your cell," she said, nodding to the guards as they attempted to turn around, which was a more difficult task than what was first imagined by Draco since there were so many chains. He had to turn while the guards walked around him, so as to not become tangled. The led him down the stone stairs again, and back through the prison. He had passed through cell block B on his way there, and now on his way back, everyone in the cells they past were waiting for him, ready to jeer and mock him. Many there were waiting out the time until their trials. The Death Eaters now captured watched as Draco, the first convicted, was led along like an animal, and they all barked and howled at him, none calling out to him what they truly felt, that he was a traitor, because they didn't want to convey any kind of innocents on his part and possibly lead to his release, but they taunted and spat at him, all of them loathing him, all of them reveling in his fate.
"In," the guard grunted, giving Draco a firm shove. He slid the bars closed but then directed Draco to stand up against them so he could reach in and unlock his shackles, the collar -unfortunately- would be a permanent accessory. The last to be removed was the muzzle, and Draco took a deep breath once he was free of it, able to finally breathe air that was not musty and reeking of mildew and diseases.
Draco turned slowly, rubbing his wrists and his jaw, watching the man lumber off with the chains. Christina was sitting in her cell, quite daintily, legs crossed like a lady, eyes heavily hooded as she gazed at him.
"Morning, cutie," she called, voice rolling and deep for a woman, but in a seductive way that only seemed to add to her allure. Draco looked at her for a moment before turning away, to crouch in his corner where there was a shallow puddle, splashing and dabbing his chin and mouth, sure that there was something left on his skin from that ghastly muzzle.
"Would you like some water?" she asked, Draco looking at her from over his shoulder in his crouching position. "I hoard it, because we only get a little bit. Here," she said, getting up and grabbing a cloth as she did so. She moved over to the corner that he could not see her from, and there was a little sound of water. She appeared again holding the rag that now looked damp and held it out through her bars to signify that she would give it a toss when he was ready. Draco stood up, rubbing his hands on the butt of his slacks and looked around, as though fearful that a guard would come by and catch them. She just smiled and gave it a toss and Draco had to quickly reach out of his bars to nab it so it would not fall on the filthy floor.
"There you are, wash up," she said, indicating with her finger that he likely had something on his left cheek. Draco wiped his face down, the water freezing but the freshness feeling so amazing, and when he opened his eyes he found Christina staring at him.
"Thank you," he muttered quietly, making to give it a toss back but her just holding her hand up in decline.
"Keep it, I will ask for it back should I need it," she said, plopping back down on her shelf-bed and looking over her shoulder through the bars so she could see him. "So, you speak. Feeling better from last night?" she asked.
"No," he said bluntly, pulling his hood up to cover his baldness, hating the metal collar around his throat but unable to do anything about it, unsure how sleeping with it would be.
"Yeah, well, you're lucky, the Dementors are not here. This residual icky feeling they left is terrible, but still better than with them here personally."
"You have been here for ten years?" he asked.
"Just about," she said, twirling a piece of her curling hair around her finger.
"What…" he asked before feeling awkward and stopping.
"Hmm?" she encouraged.
"Well, we are in block C, for non-humans, so I was just wondering, what…"
"What I am?" she asked, laughing a little.
"I do not mean it to be rude, I am just curious," he attempted to explain, sitting on his own bench and pulling his knees up so he could hold his toes in his hands in attempts of warming them.
"You are a werewolf," she said.
"I know I am," he said, a little irritated that she would not answer his question while stating such an obvious fact.
"You must have found yourself in some real disfavor if you wound up here with me," she said and Draco blinked at her.
"What do you mean?"
"There are dozens of cells on the block, they wouldn't have put us so close together if they didn't have a reason. They keep me separate from the general population of the prison, thus why I am here," she explained.
"So you are human?" he asked.
"That I am," she nodded, each now having taken a turn telling the other what they already knew themselves to be.
"Then what makes you think that I am in some particular bad favor to be placed so near to you?" he asked, looking at her and clearly confused.
"I am here for kidnapping and attempted murder," she said, looking at Draco who almost nodded, having been told this last night, "Of werewolves," she then finished and Draco looked at her with slightly widened eyes. "They tried to convict me on torture and inhumane treatment of magical beasts and such, but my lawyer pleaded me out of that," she said, almost reveling in Draco's obvious horror.
"You hurt werewolves?" he asked, his throat a little dry.
"Quite a few of them," she said, leaning into the bars in a very seductive manner, her words in no way matching her body language.
"Wh-why?" he asked, scooting a little away from the bars as though if he hadn't she would have somehow managed to reach him.
"Why not?" she challenged.
"We are people too," he attempted to argue, but his conviction not quite there as he hugged his knees more than anything.
"You still at that stage where you cling to that idea?" she asked, hanging off her bars now with her back arched and tilting her head to rest it on her raised upper arm. She looked like she was doing some kind of slow erotic dance using the bars, or simply posing for his benefit, which confused him given what she was saying.
"I am sick, but that doesn't make me any less of a person. My mother and father were human, and people. I was born human, and raised a person; being attacked and made sick doesn't change any of that," he said, a little more heated now, his dignified air of aristocratic blood coming forth to shield his vulnerability. Christina seemed intrigued by that.
"You were attacked, like, you are a survivor?"
"I didn't choose this," he snapped.
"Do you have scars?" she asked, practically wagging her bum as she hung on the bars, excited maybe?
"Yes," Draco answered slowly.
"May I…see them?" she asked, biting her bottom lip.
"No," Draco said in a dignified outrage as he moved away from his bars so she could see none of him.
"Come on,"
"Leave me alone," he barked.
"I just want to see how badly you were hurt."
"I nearly died, awright?"
"You take Wolfsbane before your first shift?" she asked.
"No."
"So you actually suffered through the agony of a first shift? Unaided?" she asked as though impressed.
"Yes," Draco said decisively.
"I can't deny I'm not awed by that."
"By what?" Draco grumbled towards his bars.
"That you were so brave," she said very softly, the last word but a whisper, Draco's sense of pride tickled by that.
"What?" he asked, a whole lot of his edge dropped.
"You survived an attack, a feat in of itself, but you then suffered through a change, an excruciating and consuming change, the worst one will even endure. That is quite hard, I know, I studied werewolves," she said, still softly.
"You mean kidnapped, tortured, and murdered them," Draco snapped, pulling his blanket on over himself, fighting the spell she seemed to have on him with her whispers.
"You have me all wrong, Draco. I was a Mediwitch. I was researching to find a cure for the affliction. I was working with volunteers, or what I sincerely believed to be volunteers. There was a certain amount of risk and pain that went along with participating with the study, but it was far from malicious torture, I swear it to you," she assured, her conviction there, enough that even Draco, able to sense thoughts and feelings -though not read them yet- was convinced.
"Then why are you here?" he asked, his skepticism not as easily slain.
"Why are you here?" she challenged, Draco looking down, then across his cell, then back at his bars. Maybe they were both wrongfully imprisoned.
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"How has your week been, Draco?"
"Don't sit here and play clueless as to how I have faired in these last few days, sir, like you don't read the papers," Draco snapped, sitting, once again, with his therapist. It was Friday and there being only a day left before the full moon, Draco was not in a pleasant mood. He had just come from seeing his "Support Wizard" who coached him through every full moon and distributed Wolfsbane, who he also had to see every Friday, and no visit to the "beast division" of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in the Ministry of Magic left Draco all happy and bubbly feeling.
"I only read reputable papers, not that gossiping and mongering poppycock," he said smoothly, Draco still being rather unresponsive. The man did not press, he just waited, and Draco sat there for a long moment, arms crossed and knee bouncing before he just started off in a long and irate rant.
"I don't know what people want from me," he said and the good doctor just sat there, allowing Draco to vent. "You know, you try to do the right thing, you try and be a decent, upstanding, honest person, and all that just gets thrown back in your face," he said with a chopping motion in the air with his hand. "What's the incentive in that? Huh? Why is it that I continue to try and try to make amends for a past that I had no control over, and things I did not even do," -he pointed at himself- "when no one is going to give me a chance anyways? I was punished, grievously, for what I was accused of, and now, still, people won't let up! I have to try twice as hard as everyone else to simply attempt at reaching the same ends, and not only am I denied every time, my efforts go unrecognized. A `thank you, Draco, that was so considerate of you' would be nice now and then, you know?" he exasperated, throwing his hands out to the sides as though just their movement and chopping was assisting in his clarification. He took his seemingly first breath since the start of this, and continued on in a fast steady pace.
"I can't keep going on like this, expending all this effort for no reward, it's exhausting! Ginny's family hates me when I have been nothing but charming and pleasant towards them for months and before that they hadn't seen me in almost fourteen years! My son is terrified to be in the same room as me, and my daughter feels like the family is falling apart and has been sleeping with me every night in search of comfort. My mother feels displaced by the move even though we are moving into her old house, and she doesn't stop to consider that all her complaining is really wearisome and insulting to the effort I have put forth in restoring that heap of filth. As it is, doing just that is costing me more than was projected due to unforeseen expenses with the piping rotted through and mildew damage. No one will give me a job so I have no hopes of attaining any sort of income, Ginny remains disgustingly optimistic that I will just stroll in somewhere with an application and get hired on the spot, and she will need to take leave soon to have the baby, which is just a whole other set of worries right there," he said, not seemingly taking a breath at all through that. "All I am trying to do," he said, more slowly now, more defeated and less infuriated, "is set up a life for myself and my family, and it seems every way I try and go about it someone has to kick me down, and everywhere I turn for help I get nothing but false assurances of sympathy."
"You are going through a rough patch," Dr. Valensclaro comforted and Draco scoffed at that. "I agree that it seems unfair that people seem so unwilling to give you a chance, but can you really blame them?"
"Yes."
"My dear boy, do you not still hold to strong prejudices from the war?"
"Of course not."
"Not even against one Harry Potter?"
"If you are trying to twist this around and make it seem like I am being served precisely what I myself am dishing out, you can get fucked," Draco growled, his own profanity stripping the dignity out of his words that he otherwise clung to so dearly.
"Well, look at it this way," he said, removing his glasses to look right at Draco then. "You are absolutely unwilling to forgive Harry for what he did to you in the past, or what you believe he has done to you, despite his attempts to make things right…much like you are going through now. You feel underappreciated for all that you have done, but imagine how Harry feels, being honored for doing things he hadn't actually done while having so much expected from him all the time. He has lived a very hard life, much like you have, but despite everything, he still reaches out to try and help others, while you complain about how life is completely unfair to you, and you act as though everyone is against you, when really, you have pitted yourself against everyone else. You don't know what to do with yourself when someone is genuinely nice to you, so you reject it, because you are too insecure to believe it has anything to do with you and it is just them wanting something. You seem drawn to negative attention, if you weren't you wouldn't set yourself up like you seem to constantly. It would seem as though you are looking for some kind of sympathy, but you grow annoyed that those around you are tired of giving it to you without any kind of compensation, without a `thank you, that was very considerate of you to comfort me,'" he said and Draco blinked at him. "You are a whiner, and you take a lot more than you give. I don't doubt that you give tremendously, but you are needy," he said, maybe being so blunt and harsh to keep Draco from interrupting, maybe that was just his method. Whatever it was, it left Draco feeling like a jerk.
"Are you calling me a hypocrite?" he asked a little heatedly.
"Possibly," the doctor answered coolly.
"So you are saying this is kind of like karma, coming around to bite me in the arse?" Draco asked a little more timidly.
"As much as you have been wronged, Draco, you have wronged others, and you still continue to. You need to maybe give a little more, at the personal risk of possibly being rejected, because people respond positively to that sort of thing. Selflessness, it is a very endearing and valuable quality."
"I give all I have for my family," Draco said firmly.
"I didn't say you are a bad father, Draco, you did," he argued so smoothly. "I believe you give tremendously to your family, but you are far too insecure to give one-hundred percent in anything."
"I am not insecure."
"You, Draco, are one of the most insecure people I have ever treated."
"Oh, thank you," Draco said dryly, looking away as a pout set in place.
"You were a bully in school; it is a commonly understood actuality that bullies are terribly insecure, forcing others below them by any means -emotional or physical- possible, so as to compensate for their lack of self-worth and to feel superior."
"I was just raised to think less of certain people given their blood purity, I outgrew that," Draco argued.
"No, you just repress it. You were raised to draw self-worth from external things rather than internal. Wealth, social status, blood status, it was all held to a greater esteem than personal qualities, qualities like…love…"
"Shut up."
"Is it fair of me to presume your father, and/or mother, were exceedingly difficult to please or had unrealistically high standards?"
"You assume too much," Draco drawled.
"I believe it says here," the good doctor said, reading over something Draco himself had written, "That you resented your father's inability to appreciate you for what you were capable of, always comparing you to others, pitting you against other boys in competitions because he drew worth amongst his friends whose sons you competed with and bested. You say yourself that your father never commended you for a job well done because he didn't believe in rewarding what was expected of you: perfection, but should you fall short of his perceived ideals of accomplishment you were ridiculed, belittled, and sometimes even punished?"
"My father just wanted me to try as hard as I could. I am very skilled at a great number of things thanks to him."
"Yet you resent him?"
"I do not."
"You wrote it, here," he argued, pointing at the paper.
"I was tired," Draco attempted to argue away his writings, but the man just shook his head.
"I truly believe that all your problems really stem from your insecurity and self-doubt, Draco. I don't feel I can truly help you without addressing these things, going back to the beginning and finding out why you feel so undeserving."
"I do not-"
"You were raised to be timid, and to search for merit and appeal from peripheral sources," he said quite bluntly, cutting Draco off. "This leads you to only become more insecure over what people think about you, afraid that it is negative because of your history, and you doubt yourself because you have failed at tasks in the past," he explained. "You feel insecure in your abilities -such as being a father- because you doubt your rationality and decision making skills because you have been led astray and have made bad choices in the past. Those choices have left you feeling like a fool, and guilty, and willing to say you deserve the kinds of treatment you endure, but that leaves you open to be prayed upon, which once again leads to you growing more insecure with yourself as people berate you." Draco was shaking his head. "You are afraid to love, because those you loved in the past were taken from you, or used as means of manipulating you, and you fear it happening again. So you close yourself off and do not fully welcome people's sympathies, yet you long for both companionship and understanding, but are so down on yourself that you feel you deserve neither," he explained, unrelenting in his explanation of his observation. "You blame yourself for things that couldn't possibly be your fault, because you seem to feel that everyone else does it -use you as blame- so why not, maybe they're right? It's all because you don't know how -you were not raised to understand how- to cherish you for simply being you," he said and Draco looked down. "You try too hard to be someone else, your father, the son he wanted you to be, the father you think you should be, the father people expect you to be, the man you want to be for Ginny, the man she would love you to be, the man people want you to be as a prisoner out of Azkaban, the man you were supposed to be under the guidance of the Dark Lord. You cannot be everything to everyone, Draco, you cannot please them all. You shouldn't let what others think of you dictate how you see yourself because there will always be those who will not like you, and honestly, they aren't worth the anguish you cause yourself."
"I…I have just had a bad experience all the way around." He sighed. "I didn't have much control over my life growing up, it was always me being groomed and cultured to look, act, and think as my parents desired, and the first opportunity I had to do things on my own and make important decisions, I seriously blew it. Then it was just one bad choice after another, leading me to where I am now."
"So now you doubt yourself."
"Yeah," Draco whispered.
"You shouldn't fear yourself, Draco, and you shouldn't dwell in the past. You have made mistakes, everyone has, but no one is going to forgive you, if you are not willing to forgive yourself." Draco looked up at him, eyes tearful. "It is difficult to love someone that doesn't love himself," he said softly and Draco looked down at that point, to hide his tears. "Why don't you stop pushing Ginny away?" he asked, still softly, still understanding.
"I'm not…I'm…"
"You are, Draco. Think about all the times she has recently attempted to comfort you, over things that quite possibly include her and/or the baby too, and compare it to the number of times you have gone out of your way to do the same in regards to her," he said and Draco blinked at him, a look of horror slowly gripping his eyes.
"I have been a rotten unaccommodating boyfriend," he moaned and Dr. Valensclaro just sighed.
"No, just not the most supportive kind, which I can't blame you, when you are so unwilling to cut yourself any slack. Why don't you, tonight, go home and just do whatever you can to make her feel like the most glamorous and adored women in all the world? Praise her for her efforts and daily accomplishments, and talk of only positive things. It's amazing how wonderful you yourself will feel doing so, while giving her the very thing you have longed for all your life: appreciation?"
"Is this couple's therapy now?" Draco asked timidly, trying to hide the fact that a tear or two had escaped him. Dr. Valensclaro didn't seem to hold it against him any.
"No, just generalized therapy, but as a man that has been married to the same woman for over sixty years, I think I know what I am talking about," he said with a smile, placing his glasses back on his face and taking a few notes.
Draco dropped his head again.
"May I ask, on the topic of your relationship -or should I say relationships- why you still wear your wedding band more than nine years after your wife's passing?" the man asked smoothly, somehow managing to not make the question sound either accusatory or overly intrusive, which annoyed Draco because it didn't leave him any excuse to get angry. This man was good.
"Someone dying doesn't un-marry them to you," he said softly.
"But when a spouse dies and their partner remarries it's not considered polygamy," he argued.
"Is there a point to be made amidst all this bullux?" Draco drawled in a rather snapping fashion, clinging to anger to hide his embarrassment and vulnerability he had just displayed.
"Do you think about your wife often?"
"Yes."
"Often as in once a month, once a week, once a day?"
"I fail to see how that is any of your-"
"Because I can see where a lot of your insecurity stems from, beyond what your father did to you-"
"What do you mean `what my father did to me'?"
"It comes from her," he said, unfaltering in Draco's interruption, "and I wonder why you cling to her so, even in death."
"She never made me insecure, she was the only one there for me for a long time," Draco attempted to argue but the man would not have it.
"Yet you refuse to ever mutter her name?"
"I do no such thing."
"Then say it."
"No, I do not take action on command." It was something he refused to do ever again.
"You say she was the only one there for you for a while, but as I have come to understand it, she was barely there at all."
"How dare you…you do not know her, or what my relationship with her was…"
"You mean to protect her then, from my claims?"
"She is my wife and mother of my children and I will not allow you to degrade and belittle her efforts when she is not even here to bloody defend herself."
"You see? You are defending her, when you more than anyone should be the one displeased with her efforts, why? Is it because it's too painful to admit what she had done? Or because you still refuse to truly believe any of it and take the stance that everyone is unfairly picking on her -just like you feel they are doing to you- and they are not appreciating her effort -much like you feel yourself- so therefore you viciously defend her?"
"I don't feel if have to explain my loyalty to my wife to you."
"You might want to explain it to Ginny, though."
"What…what are you…? What does she have to do with any of this?"
"Something has you thinking about your wife a whole lot more than you used to, dwelling on her a whole lot more, preying on your insecurity, and I think that has a lot more to do with Ginny than you are willing to acknowledge. Your ability to cling to denial is astounding."
"Well, why don't you tell me how I'm feeling then, doctor," Draco said, crossing his arms.
"You, Draco, are afraid."
"What?"
"Terrified."
"I am no such-"
"You loved your wife, still do obviously, and you gave the relationship your all despite everything that was working against you at the time, despite the fact that your efforts had never been appreciated for what they were in the past, and she still ran out on you," he said, Draco hurt by the harshness but face tight and blank so as to not allow the man to see how close to truth he might have struck. The man was speculating, that was his job, he was just waiting for him, Draco, to reward him with some kind of reaction. "That basically demoralized you from ever trusting anyone again, including your beloved Ginny. You are afraid now, to give everything you have to Ginny, because you fear she too will run out on you, her with child just like your wife and that clearly not being enough to stop her, and you don't believe it possible for you to survive another disappointment as great as that."
Draco just shook his head.
"I think you need to stop blaming yourself for things that are in no way perceivably your fault, and stop doubting yourself because of past mistakes, it is crippling in your attempts to be productive and build this life you claim to be striving for, for your family."
Draco just clamped his jaw tight and looked away.
"Was I close to the truth there?" the man asked, putting his glasses back on and leaning back slightly.
"I bloody hate you," Draco said softly, breath quivering, not about to start crying again but struggling.
---------------------
Ginny trekked all the way up to the top floor of the house and breathed deeply in her exhaustion. She had reprimanded each of her brothers thoroughly and it had taken a lot out of her. She just wanted to snuggle close to Draco (no offense to Clarissa, she loved the girl, but she could do without her sleeping with them for one night) and sleep in for once. It would be a Saturday, she would have the day off from work, and she did not revel in the idea of spending the day working on the house, getting up bright and early like Narcissa always seemed to, and working until collapse.
She pushed open the door, expecting Draco to already be asleep given how dark and quiet it was, but upon stepping in, instead of finding Draco curled up in the sheets, sound asleep, she found candles lit all around, making the room glow softly. Ginny stepped in the rest of the way to allow the door to close, utterly perplexed by what she had happened upon.
Draco, who had been behind the door, was behind her now, pushing the door closed and thus forcing her to walk in further. He tiptoed up behind her and without touching her, made his presence known by leaving only a hair's width gap between himself and her, his breath quaking down her back to dance along the fine hairs there. Ginny gasped a little but Draco's thin arms encircled her and held her to him as he hooked his chin over her shoulder to hug her tight and press the side of his face against hers.
"Draco," she managed with a weak laugh at herself for having been caught so surprised.
"I realized that we never had our night of romance, with the strawberries, and the candles, and the rose peddles," he said into her ear, his hands on her tummy, gripping the material there and rubbing it into her skin like he wanted nothing more than to rip it away from her.
"Draco, there is only a day before the full moon," Ginny reminded.
"I have not forgotten."
"You should be resting; I thought you were up here sleeping."
"I was up here, attempting to create a scene of romance and desire without catching the bed sheets on fire. I'm quite proud of myself in my accomplishment," he said, teasing both verbally and with his hands.
"I would feel awful to decline on this offer after as much effort as you put into it, but you shouldn't expend so much energy when you are going to need it…"
"I think we need to spend a little less time worrying about me, and a little more time appreciating you," he said, cutting her off and reaching up to hold her breasts. "It was a long day, so I think that warrants a good long rubdown," he said, walking her over to the bed while still wrapped around her. Ginny giggled as Draco kissed at her neck and throat and tilted her head back to look up.
"Are those roses?" she asked, seeing the blossoms strung up along the canopy of the bed.
"Yes, yellow ones, your favorite," he answered, a little muffled with his lips pressed against her skin.
"You haven't done anything wrong, have you?" she asked causing Draco to stop.
"What?"
"This isn't your way of going about telling me some really awful news is it?" she asked as she turned in his arms to be facing him but still held close.
"No, this is just me, apologizing for not appreciating you as much as I should have been."
"What are you talking about?" she asked but Draco just kissing her, not about to make an argument of this, her too ready to defend his poor behavior so as to sooth his guilt. He wouldn't allow that, not tonight. He was going to make sure she remembered every single thing he loved about her, no matter how long it took, or how much effort on his part.
"Remember when I asked you to promise me never to break my heart?" he asked.
"Yeah," Ginny asked, sounding uneasy.
"You didn't ask me to promise anything in return," he said and she looked ready to assure him it was not necessary but he wouldn't hear it, not this time. He really needed to do this. "I promise to be less secretive, and more willing to turn to you, rather than away from you," he said, holding her close to him. He had a lot of making up to do, and this was just the start. He knew, having had his doctor spell it out to him quite plainly, that he was a hypocrite, and was acting like a baby, and needed to deal with that…but first he needed to deal with Ginny, to assure her just what she meant to him.
"Draco…"
"I love you," he said, his naked hands lifting her shirt to press against her stomach, no ring to be found.
Author's note/Summery:
Michael's troubles just keep on compounding, don't they? Poor boy. And Ginny is trying SO hard…she deserves a cookie. I loved her scene with Fred and George. There's that fire in her I have been lacking in, well, this whole story. I tend to focus too much on Draco, and Ginny's character is a little smothered. All will be righted. <3 Fred and George. Now they know what REALLY happened between Michael, Derry, and Phinn. Maybe things will get better?
Flashback-fun-time! Christina, what a character, what a doll. I love her. Draco does too apparently, but mostly he is scared shitless of her at the moment. Thinking on it, however, in about 2 months time from that flashback he will have gotten her preggers. SOMETHING happens between them, but what? Wait and see. :]
Draco's therapist is a brutal but insightful man, don't you agree? Draco really needs to learn to love himself, and forgive himself, for him to truly heal. He and I are working on that. *huggles Draco* He is so insecure, which I honestly believe to be canon. It's arguable at least, given the psychology of bullies and his display of character in the books. I know many of you want to know, "Will Draco get better?" I'm not going to beat around the bush here: Draco is a Paranoid Schizophrenic in this fic, so will he "get better?" no if you mean "cured" yes if you mean "he will eventually be more adjusted"…as in highly medicated…
The ending scene was a fan-service, because I know I write SO much angst and drama and dark-stuff. Some of you have enough of that in your personal lives, why read MORE of it in a fic? Draco and Ginny are doomed to have a tremulous relationship, but a happy ending, I swear. Yellow roses, candles, silken sheets, and a song (that I didn't include in the writing) topped off by mind-blowing sex…what woman wouldn't forgive Draco?
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