This first chapter is a flashback. The next chapter is where the story really starts.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or settings from the Harry Potter Universe. And I am not making any money off of this story.
Ginny Weasley laughed while splashing her brother with water. "Ron, stop."
"You're the one splashing me," Ron yelled.
"Alright, I'll stop." Ginny held her hands up in a surrender motion. Wading over to her brother, she smiled. "How does it feel to be done with school?"
Ron heaved a sigh. "Honestly, it doesn't feel that great. With Fred gone, the Burrow is more like a mortuary than a home."
"It'll get better, Ron," Ginny said. "As long as we're there for Mum, things will look up. They have to get better."
"You're so optimistic," Ron said. "It's sickening."
"Oh, come on." Ginny slapped his bare arm. "You have Hermione. The two of you shag like rabbits. Don't try and deny it. Who can't hear the noises coming from the Head Girl's room?"
The tips of Ron's ears turned redder than a tomato. "Is that true?"
"No, brother dearest," Ginny said. "But now at least I know it's true."
Ron grabbed Ginny around her waist, throwing her into the deeper part of the lake. Ginny came up to the surface of the water, spluttering. She swam over to her brother with every intention on dunking him. However, Harry got to him first. Ron went down into the lake like a sinking brick. Bellowing, Ron charged at Harry, attempting to dunk him as well. The rest of the day went much the same until Professor McGonagall ran them inside.
"Ginny," Ron called. "Wait up."
Ginny spun around. "Hurry up."
"I'm sorry about earlier," Ron said. "You know, bringing up Fred and everything. I know how you feel about it. So, thanks for cheering me up."
Ginny's smile was stiff. "What are sisters for?"
"Let's go." Ron motioned for her to follow him. "I have a serious case of the munchies. Harry, Hermione and I are meeting in the kitchen."
"Go ahead," Ginny said. "I'm kind of tired. And I need to run out and grab my tie. I forgot it by the lake."
"Do you want company?" asked Ron.
"No." Ginny waved off his offer. "I'll be fine by myself."
"Okay," Ron said. "See you later."
Ginny watched as Ron left, tears prickling at the back of her eyes. Before she could ponder what was happening, she was running. Her slipper clad feet hit the stone floors of Hogwarts, emitting a sharp sound. The air around her felt like it was closing in. Her clothing felt uncomfortably wet. Hair flew in her face, pieces flying into her mouth, the taste of lake water sticking to her tongue. Feet buckling beneath her, she slid down the closest wall. Her chest heaved with silent sobs, nails clawing the walls.
"Hello?"
Ginny didn't respond. She couldn't respond. Her lips were clamped shut, blue from the cold that had seeped into her body. A brief thought of how inappropriately dressed she was flitted through her head. Her white school shirt clung to her skin, revealing the two piece swimming suit she had underneath. Her skirt was hiked up due to her odd body angle. If she could muster the energy to move, she would have fixed her skirt. But she couldn't. Instead, she sat silently, wondering which unlucky soul had managed to stumble upon her.
"Weasley?"
Draco Malfoy eyed the small girl in front of him. Her haphazard clothing gave him a very nice view of her not so little places. But her shaking form made him snap out of those thoughts. He knelt down next to her, wondering how best to approach the girl. He didn't want her to attack him. Draco couldn't help the grimace that appeared on his face as he remembered the incident in his fifth year. He gently placed an arm on her shoulder, shaking her.
"Weasley," he said.
Ginny looked up at the boy she associated with all things evil. She, along with most others, had hated the fact that Draco Malfoy had been allowed back. He had almost killed Dumbledore. He had been a Death Eater. Yet, Harry Potter, the saviour of the wizarding world, stood up for Malfoy. Harry even went as far as to give a testimony in front of the school about Malfoy's innocence. People, albeit reluctantly, accepted him back. Some people even went as far as to befriend him. Ginny had not been one of them. She had stayed as far from the boy as possible. She couldn't forget his past indiscretions.
"Weasley," Draco repeated.
"Ginny," she muttered, feebly.
"What?"
"My name is Ginny," she said, louder than before.
"Ginny, you're lying in a hall, soaking wet." Draco touched her shivering form. "By the feel of it, you're freezing as well. Is there anything I can do?"
Ginny laughed, a hollow sound to Draco's ears. "No, Malfoy. There isn't anything you can do, unless, of course, you can manage to bring my brother back to life. If not, kindly leave me alone, Malfoy."
"I can't bring anyone back to life. I can get one of your living brothers." Draco didn't know why he was being uncharacteristically nice to the youngest Weasley. It may have to do with the fact that he couldn't stand to see her lying on the floor almost naked. Or it could be the fact that he had decided to turn over a new leaf, more in part to his mother's wishes than anything else. "What will it be, Weasley?"
"Please don't. I don't want to see anyone right now." Ginny looked up at him, earnestly. "I can't deal with the pitying looks. Or people telling me they know how I feel. Because they don't know how I feel."
"Follow me," Draco said. He held out a hand to help her up. "I promise I won't kill you."
"Why should I follow you?"
"Because, Weasley, I won't pity you. He took off his cloak, offering it to her. "And I won't pester you with questions. I could care less."
Ginny could swear the cold was getting to her why she accepted his offer. But she didn't think about it too much. She stood, placing her smaller hand in his large ones. The warm cloak he threw around her shoulders clung to her petite form, dampening. They travelled past classroom doors, down steps, through hallways, and, finally, entered a room through a portrait. It wasn't the common room she expected. Instead, she stepped into a bedroom. His bedroom, she assumed.
She took the cloak off, handing it to him. The smell of his cologne lingered on her skin, sending tingles through her body, unfamiliar tingles. Ginny swept into the room, settling onto the carpet by the fireplace. She saw the curious gaze that Draco shot her way. But she said nothing. The closer she was to the fireplace, the warmer she would get. She brought her knees up to her chest, making her body as small as possible.
"It hurts. Doesn't it?" Draco plopped next to her. "There's an aching feeling in your chest you can't be rid of. It clings to your every thought. You laugh. But you cry in the silence of your own room because you feel as if it's wrong to laugh. He's dead."
Ginny was shocked into silence.
"Life seems to fly past you. You're not living anymore. You're just watching," he said. "You fake the expressions people see on your face. You lie when anyone asks you if you're okay. You deny that it bothers you. When, in reality, you want to jump off the Astronomy Tower."
"How do you deal with it?" Ginny's voice came out as a croak. "Make the pain go away."
"I don't think you need to know," Draco said, moving to get up. "My mother sent me chocolate last week. You should have some."
Ginny's hand clamped down on his arm. "I like chocolate. But that isn't how you deal with it. How do you do it?"
"I find other things to occupy my time." Draco got up. He needed to put space between him and Ginny Weasley. The way her shirt had fallen open, those wide, innocent, brown eyes, her short skirt, was all too much. "Do you need anything?"
"I need you to take the pain away."
"What?" The sight that beheld him was one he never thought he would see. There was a naked Weasley in his bedroom, a good looking Weasley. "Put your clothes back on."
"Make it go away. Just for one night," she said, walking up to him. "I don't care if it hurts. I don't want to think about it anymore."
"Weasley," Draco said, warningly. He took a few steps back. "Don't tempt me."
"Fuck me, Malfoy."
"How could you?"
"You've betrayed your family."
"He is a Death Eater, Ginny."
Ginny hung her head in shame. "I wasn't thinking."
"Damn right you weren't," Ron yelled.
"You gave your innocence away to a Malfoy," Arthur Weasley said. The elderly, balding, man was trying to wrap his head around what his daughter had told him. He couldn't believe it. His daughter had sex. His young daughter was no longer a child. "Have you no shame?"
"Poor Harry, he'll be devastated." Molly Weasley clucked her tongue at her youngest child. She couldn't help but to feel part of the blame for what she did. After all, she should have kept a closer watch on the child. But she was a mother. And as a mother she would fix everything. "We'll make this better."
"How can you make this better?" asked Bill. "She's pregnant."
"We'll give the child away," said Molly. "Now, who wants dinner?"
"I am not giving my baby away," Ginny said.
"Now, now," Molly replied, hushing her daughter. "You have plenty of time to mull it over. Right now would not be the best time. You're upset. It's never a good time to make decisions."
"Mum, I can't give my baby away."
Dear Draco,
I realize that it has been a few months since that day in June. But I felt the need to contact you. The matter is one of importance. I know we parted on the terms that we would never see each other again. But that cannot happen. You see, I'm pregnant.
No, you did not read that wrong. I am pregnant.
I'll leave your response to you.
Ginny Weasley
"Ginny?"
"Mum?"
"Breakfast is ready," Molly said. "What are you doing?"
"I'm writing the letter to Draco." Ginny sealed the envelope. "I'll send it off after breakfast. I'm starving."
"Let me send it," Molly said. "Pig is out on an errand. And I'm running to Diagon Alley. I'll send it by owl post."
Ginny handed the letter to her mother. "Thanks, Mum."
Molly smiled, rubbing her daughter's stomach. "What am I here for?"
"The baby is healthy," Healer Jenkins announced.
"I don't care." Molly Weasley jumped out of her seat at the sight of the Healer. "I want to know how my daughter is doing. Is she healthy?"
"Yes," Healer Jenkins said. "She became unconscious at the end of the birth. But she has pulled through. She'll be in and out of sleep for a few days."
"Can I see her?" asked Molly.
"Certainly," Healer Jenkins replied. "You may deliver the good news. We haven't had a chance to speak with her as of yet because she's asleep."
"And what about what we spoke of?" asked Molly.
"Ah, yes," Healer Jenkins said. "Even though she is underage, we will still need her signature to approve the release of the child in your custody."
"Fine," Molly said.
Molly Weasley entered the brightly lit hospital room. Her daughter was barely awake, lying on the hospital bed. It was the perfect moment for her to go through with her plan. She took a parchment from her bag along with an ink pot and quill. Dipping the quill in ink, she hovered over her daughter. Molly knew what she was doing was bad. But this was her daughter. She would be better off after this. They hadn't spent the last seven months staying hidden from the public eye for no reason.
"Ginny?"
"Hi, Mum," Ginny said, softly. "How is the baby? The Healer hasn't spoken to me yet."
"Darling, I am so sorry." Molly set the parchment and quill on the side table. "They did everything they could possibly do to revive the child. But it was a stillbirth."
Tears streamed down Ginny's face. The familiar tightening in her chest, the prickling feeling behind her eyes, the pressure, it all came so fast. She couldn't think. Her mother droned on about a form she had to sign. Ginny, partially aware of what was going on, signed without question. She had failed. Her child was dead. Blackness engulfed her, ending her pain even if it was only for a few hours.
Molly left the room as her daughter fainted. She called for help, asking that no one tell her child of the baby's condition. They all looked at her strangely but agreed. Molly joined her husband in the waiting room, brandishing the signed parchment. A satisfied smile on her face, Molly sat down next to her husband. What she was doing might be wrong. But her child would be happier.
"I have the release form," Molly said.
"I'll deliver the child to the Malfoys," Arthur replied.
"Ginny this is for the best," Molly said. "You can start over. Put all your worries behind you in a new country."
"I suppose," Ginny said. She nervously wrung her hands at the designated Portkey spot. She was surrounded by a few people, all going to the same place. "I guess this is it. I'm really leaving England."
"We've gotten you a nice little cottage to stay in," Molly said. "You'll Portkey to the nearest Portkey Station. Then grab a ride on the local Knight Bus to the cottage. I wrote the address down for you."
Ginny placed the parchment in her cloak pocket. "Thank you for everything, Mum. I don't know how I would have gotten through the past few days without you."
"I love you very much, Ginny." Molly tucked an errant strand of Ginny's hair behind her ear. "I do everything for your benefit."
"I know." Ginny hugged her mother. She let go, checking her watch. "The Portkey will be ready in a minute."
"Bye, Ginny." Arthur Weasley still felt horrible about what he'd done to his daughter. Those days, watching her sit in the arm chair with a forlorn look, had been difficult. Molly reassured him that this was best for Ginny. She could start a new life. Arthur had faith that she was right. "I will miss you."
"I'll miss you too, Dad." She embraced her father. "Tell the boys they can stop by anytime. It's been rough not seeing them. I know that they're still mad at me."
"Eventually, your brothers will come round," Arthur replied. He placed a kiss on her forehead. "If you need anything, send an owl."
"Thanks, Dad," Ginny said.
"Just remember we love you," Arthur said.
"Alright, the Portkey is ready now." Ginny gave her parents a weak smile. "I love you both for everything you've done."
Ginny waved, touching the square object along with everyone else. Her stomach lurched, her body spinning through the air. She unsteadily landed onto a rough tiled surface. Someone grabbed her, helping her to stay on her feet. Ginny looked around at the room she was in. Tiled surface, pale green walls, and scenic paintings surrounded her. She found the room quite quaint. The man who steadied her pulled her out of the way, preventing a crash as the next group came through.
"Welcome to Pennsylvania," the man said. "Your baggage will be checked on your way out. Please ask for help at the desk if you need it."
"Thank you."
Ginny approached a large counter, the woman smiling on the other side. Forms were handed to her, which she quickly filled out. Then she procured the four shrunken trunks, watching as the woman rifled through her items. Everything was neatly placed back in order. The trunk was locked, spelled to shrink, and given back to her with a yellow card.
"Hand this to the security guard on your way out," the woman said.
"That's it?"
"Yes," the woman smiled.
"I need to get to this address." Ginny slipped the piece of parchment across the counter. "I'm not exactly sure how to get there."
"Out front you'll find a stand. Give them this slip and they will summon the appropriate bus. Or, you may take a car." The woman handed her back the paper. "It may be a little bit more expensive. But it's a lot faster."
Ginny nodded. Leaving the area, she handed the security guard her yellow pass. The doors opened, revealing the outdoors. She did as the woman had told her, deciding to take a car. The man at the booth was very nice. He told her some great things about the place she was going to. Despite his kindness, she was happy to get away from him. He was making not too subtle advances.
"So, are you new to this country?"
"Yes," Ginny said.
"Well, I've been to the Poconos on several occasions," the driver said. "It's a great place. It's quiet. But it's a nice place to get yourself together."
"That is just what I need," Ginny said.
"We're here," the driver said. "Don't you love the super speed of magical cars?"
"Thank you." Ginny handed over the American money her father had given her. "Have a good day."
"You too," the driver waved, pulling out of the driveway.
Ginny stepped onto the rocky driveway. The place was exactly like what she expected. It was located in a forest like alcove. Trees surrounded the cottage, fresh spring leaves attached. On the bad side, the grass was wildly growing. The flowerbeds were filled with weeds of various types. The paint on the cottage was peeling a little. She could swear there was a crack in one of the windows. Nothing more could be expected. It was the best her parents could afford. Besides, she had plenty of time to fix it up. This was her new home.
She took a step inside, a step closer to her new life.