A/N: Please Read and Review! I don't know if this story is worth it if I receive little reviews.
Summary: Ginny is happy. Everything in her life is perfect and she wants it to stay that way. But when she discovers a little boy out in the woods everything changes. There are some secrets this little boy is holding… Ginny is determined to find them out. D/G eventually.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Nu-uh, it all belongs to J.K. Rowling.
His Child
Prologue
It all started on a cold dry night. I went outside after supper to gaze up at the cloudless sky to see the stars. I was perfectly content with my life. There were no more ifs or buts, there was only me, myself, and that was the way I liked it and wanted it to stay. But my life was just about to be turned upside down, and I didn't even suspect it. I would encounter something that would change my life forever…
Like I was saying, I went outside to gaze at the stars. I lay down on the grass so I wouldn't have to crane my neck to look skyward. But after a few minutes of total silence, I hear a noise, like a sniffle. My whole body stiffens. The war is over but I can not help but be paranoid and jump at the smallest sounds. The war took a terrible toll on all of us. I cautiously sit up and peer into the dense trees. I didn't see anything right away, but after a few moments I noticed a figure. He had his knees up to its chest and was rocking back and forth, murmuring to himself. I stared at the figure for a while, unable to comprehend what I was seeing. It looked like a child, not even ten years old.
You can imagine my shock. What would a child be doing out in the wilderness by my little cottage, when nobody lives even within walking distance? The child didn't notice me yet and I wasn't keen on acknowledging my presence quite yet. I kept running explanations through my head. Why and when did this child get here? I must have muttered something out loud because the child suddenly sat up and I was able to see his face with the dim light from the candle in my window. It was a boy; he had a fine blond hair that had twigs and leaves in it, and remarkably grey eyes that shined a silvery color. He was a beautiful child. But the boy had a deep gash right along his cheek which he probably got by scraping it on a tree branch. He was wearing fine clothes like one you would wear to a dinner party but it was all torn up and dirty.
Suddenly the boy stood up fast as if he was preparing to run but collapsed to his knees and fell on his face. I ran over to him, picked him up, and carried him back to the cottage. I did not have any spare beds so I put him in my room and I laid him on the bed. I took his temperature, cleaned his face up a bit and went to see if I had any spare shirts that would fit him. Once I found an old Chudley Cannons shirt that was a hand-me-down from Ron, I folded it up nicely and placed it on the edge of the bed for him.
I walked into the kitchen and that was when I realized the boy must be starving! So I got to work on preparing a nice meal for him. Yes, my famous spaghetti would fill the little boy right up, or I hoped it would because I never really had the opportunity to watch over a young child before - I was always the baby of the family, always the one to be cared for and it was quite annoying after a while. Well, once it is ready I suppose I will have to wake him...
I entered the bedroom after I set out a plate for the boy. He was wide awake and staring up at the ceiling.
"Hello," I said, hoping to strike up some conversation with him. "So you're finally awake." Maybe I could find out who he was and how he got here. I don't know why but the boy looked oddly familiar. But instead of answering he jut kept on staring. He's probably lost up in his own thoughts or trying to ignore me. Either way I was getting kind of annoyed.
"Are you hungry? I hope you like spaghetti."
No answer. He is oddly quiet; I wonder what made him leave home? How did he get all the way out here in the first place? I am so confused. I don't know how to tend to the care of a child. I was so lost up in my own thoughts that I was caught off guard when he suddenly asked, "Who are you? Where am I?"
I was really surprised when he suddenly spoke up and asked so many questions. Shouldn't I be the one asking him the questions? I Might as well answer the little boy.
"Actually my name is Ginevra Weasley, but you can call me Ginny if you like, everyone does. Also, this is my little cottage, and you are welcome to stay until we can find a way to get you home."
He seemed to be pondering the idea of staying, when suddenly I remembered the spaghetti. "Would you like some spaghetti?"
"So you're a Weasley? I am really not supposed to speak to Weasleys; my daddy said so."
Forget completely about the spaghetti. So much for being nice and friendly. That really was not the reaction I expected. I was shocked, offended, confused, and angry. Who did this little boy think he was? Here I am tending to him in the comfort of my home and he goes and makes an offending remark about my name, and my birth, humph! He just continues to stare at me in my bed with those silvery grey eyes and a smirk on his face, wait... Suddenly it has dawned on me; I knew who this little boy reminded me of, Draco Malfoy.
It can't be. No, it was impossible. This was Draco Malfoy's child. Even if he was, how come he was lost in the forest? Did he run away? He must have been on the run for quite a long time then, but I never saw a missing child report anywhere. The Malfoy Mansion is miles away from here. Nothing makes sense anymore.
"What's your name?" I ask. Just because the boy is uncivilized toward me, it does not mean I will do the same. Even if he is Malfoy's child.
"Edward- Edward Malfoy"
Now I see for certain. This has to be Malfoy's child. He has no brothers or sisters as far as I know. The name Malfoy is not very common either. "So who are your parents'?" I ask just to make sure my suspicions are correct.
"Why so curious, Weasley?" He says with disgust in his little voice. God, I was really starting to dislike this little boy very much.
"Well," I manage to choke out with a forced smile. I was finding it extremely difficult to be nice to this boy at the moment. "I need to know, if I am going to help you get home."
A little reluctantly he answered my question. "Draco and Blaise Malfoy."
So, Draco ended up marrying Blaise after all. No surprise there really. They were always the worst kind of bullies toward Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.
I suppose also I should help him find his way home. After all, he is still only a little boy. It was just that I just couldn't get this nagging question out of my mind. Why was this little boy so far away from home?
A/N: What I really need right now is inspiration or something that will make me want to continue with this story. I need someone to tell me that it is worth it. I have been starting and stopping with this story for months, but I can't think of what to write next. I have the basic story line plotted out in my head but keeping it on the correct path is difficult. I just hope some of you will at least like this enough to review it, otherwise I give up.
Thanks to Georgie x for beta-ing for me! You really helped a lot!
