It had all started out great, you know. In fact, it was better than great; it was mind-blowing, amazing, incredible, brilliant, spiffy, and all other adjectives. Of course they had their mandatory up and downs, that was true and definitely inevitable, but hey, things were never meant to turn out that way. At least, she thought it didn't deserve to.
But as Ginny lay musing in bed, she could not help wondering how everything had become like this. By the way, it was Ginevra Molly Malfoy, mind you. No longer plain Ginny Weasley. She had status – something she hadn't really taken into consideration when she married her blond boy.
Yes, hers. He was all hers, in the beginning. In the beginning, when everything was perfect, wonderfully so.
The years after marriage were blissfully merry, and she had even faithfully produced not one, but two Malfoy heirs. But just months ago, she couldn't remember much, couldn't remember what went wrong.
Was she too old? Too ugly? Too annoying?
Was she not good enough for him anymore?
She thought, no, knew, he didn't, hadn't cheated on her. At least, not that she knew of. The wizarding community was small – news got around.
She didn't think she was too old; he was only thirty seven, and she one year younger, and she had retained her figure rather remarkably. She didn't think she was ugly; at least, that was what most people told her, that she 'looked stunning', and especially when her youngest son had said oh-so-sweetly 'I think you're pretty Mummy'. She didn't think she was annoying, or even naggy in any sense; she was just concerned for his welfare – she was his wife after all, what would people say if she didn't take care of him?
So, she was understandably perturbed and worried, when he started spending less time with her, stopped giving her kisses when she woke up, didn't send her flowers anymore, never said 'I love you' anymore. Those were the little things that really mattered, and she questioned herself, what had she done wrong?
And early that Monday morning, as Mrs Malfoy lay in bed, her back turned to her snoozing husband, she wondered if he would remember her birthday, which he normally celebrated lavishly. She would be contented with just a simple greeting – after all, love couldn't be won with expensive gifts. Not that hers hadn't been won already by him. She just wondered if he had taken his back from her.
That was about as far as her reflections went, as she felt a sudden presence at her back, and a long arm stretch out and over her waist, pulling her closer. Instinctively, she turned towards him, and snuggled deeper into his embrace, breathing his unique blend of cleanliness and spicy cinnamon.
Maybe she was thinking too much into things, she decided. After all, they all said that marriage did get a bit dreary after a while, a bit monotonous, so perhaps that was what was happening to her. Deep down inside however, she knew that her observations were accurate. Something was disappearing from their marriage, and the dull ache inside her increased, as it always did when she thought about this particular matter.
But it was way too early to continue entertaining such depressing thoughts. Plus, it was her birthday. And so, as the warm comforting shrouds of slumber consumed her, blackness clouding her mind and senses, she released her thoughts, falling back into peaceful sleep.
But the distressing thoughts, they would be back, together with what could possibly turn out to be the worst birthday ever.
--
When she woke up for the second time, she opened bleary eyes, and found herself staring into a pair of slate grey eyes.
"Good morning, sleepyhead."
"Good morning, Draco. And what were you doing? It freaked me out, seriously."
"Oh nothing. I was just admiring my gorgeous wife, is that a crime? The last time I checked it wasn't."
"Cheeky bastard."
He smirked in reply, but she saw past the tilt of his lips. A small warmth spread through her, tingling to the tips of her toes, and she gave a tiny smile in return. Stretching languidly, she swung her legs off the bed, and into her favourite pair of blue fluffy elephant bedroom slippers.
Draco peeked over the bed, and groaned when he saw the slippers.
"No way, you're still wearing those?"
"Last time I checked, it wasn't a crime. Plus, it's comfortable."
He shrugged and clambered off their expansive bed.
"Just for that, I am punishing you."
"How so?"
"No good morning kiss."
"Oh really?"
He thought about it for a while, before amending, "At least not until you brush your teeth."
"Are you implying something, mister?"
He flashed her a smirk, as he disappeared into the toilet, shutting the door behind him as he went. Scrunching up her nose at the door, she shuffled out of the room, heading for another toilet, all the while wondering what was with his sudden niceness.
--
"No it's okay Doris, you can have the day off."
"But Missy! Missy cannot handle the housework alone, she needs Doris!"
"No really Doris, it's okay. I'd just like to do everything today, it's a rather special day. Just take today off okay?"
"But Missy, Doris cannot take a day off just like that!"
"Please Doris?"
Ginny could see the house elf's resolve weakening. Finally, with teary eyes, Doris agreed, and disappeared with a click of her fingers. Ginny stood up in satisfaction. Now she could do what she wanted to.
Breakfast clamoured to be made.
--
Carefully, Ginny slipped the piece of bacon into the frying pan, calmly stepping back as it sizzled ferociously, oil splattering everywhere.
She had always loved cooking, a skill picked up from her mother. (With Molly Weasley a mother, who wouldn't?) Cooking for Draco always gave her a sense of accomplishment. After all, she had to look after him.
Slipping a spatula under the mildly crackling bacon, she lifted it off and placed it on a plate. Yes, just the way Draco liked it. Crispy but not tough. Placing the plate on the table, she felt a pair of arms encircle her waist.
Turning, she wagged an oily finger at Draco, as he stared innocently back.
"Don't do that while I'm cooking!"
His only reaction was a small smirk, as he pressed a light feathery kiss to her cheek. She felt herself softening, and she swiped oily fingers across his cheek, sniggering.
"Go sit down, lover boy. Bacon's on the table."
Draco wiped at the oily spots on his cheek, looking mildly affronted, as the redhead giggled insanely in front of him.
"I swear, I married a mentally unstable woman. Oh Merlin, I never did anything to offend you."
Ginny finished cooking and washing up, before sitting down at the table to her favourite breakfast – ham and eggs. Looking up as she forked scrambled eggs into her mouth, she noticed spots that Draco had missed in his dabbing.
Grabbing a wet napkin, she leaned across the table, and scrubbed his cheek gently, swabbing off the oil cleanly. As she wiped, she saw him look up, and smirk, and put a forkful of eggs into his mouth.
"Hey wait! Are those my eggs? Draco Malfoy! Are you eating my eggs?"
--
As they sat at the table quietly, reading the Daily Prophet, Ginny remembered something.
"Hey Draco, remember to come back early from work today. We have to go collect the kids from their sleepover at their friends."
"Oh, I'm not going today. Called in absent."
"Oh?"
"Yeah."
"Are you sure you should be taking leave? Doesn't the company need you?"
"It's only one day Gin. They'll live."
"Oh okay then."
"Hey Gin look at this article! How wicked is that?"
Ginny leaned over Draco's arm as she read the article aloud.
"Parkinson to marry Potter. July wedding imminent. Harry? Dear me, how the mighty have fallen."
Ginny snickered, as Draco commented, "For once in my life, I actually pity Potter. Poor bloke has to live with Pansy for the rest of his life."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"As bad as living with you."
Ginny smacked Draco on the shoulder, as she settled back into her position, remarking, "Then I suppose Harry's quite lucky. As lucky as you."
"As I said, poor Potter."
Ginny noted Draco's straight face out of the corner of her eye, and she smiled to herself, a small happy smile.
--
As Ginny kneeled, wiping dust off their boys' bedposts, suspicion finally hit her, like a ton of bricks (oh the cliché).
Why was he being so sweet and loving, after months of distance and coolness?
And then, like a typical woman who has been married for more than a decade, the niggling thoughts implanted itself in her mind, sinking its talons deep into her brain, refusing the disappear, no matter how much or how hard she wished.
Maybe, he had some terrible news that he wanted to break to her? You don't think… he had a mistress and he wanted a divorce?
This idea struck her harshly; as she froze in her position, wet rag in her rigid raised hand. It couldn't be! He wasn't that kind of man – she knew it. But still… more theories flooded in, as she stared blankly into space.
Maybe, he didn't have a mistress, but still wanted a divorce, because she was (as aforementioned) old, ugly, annoying, and generally not good enough for him. The very thought of living without him, and possibly away from her kids scared her.
"Hey Gin. You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
An unexpected voice behind her shook her out of her stupor, as she turned weakly and gave her husband a feeble grin.
"It's not like I haven't seen one before," she attempted.
"Ah good point. Say, are you cleaning? How quaint! Let me help!"
He was almost childish in his eagerness to help, and her insides melted. How sweet of him! But childish was never the word to describe Draco Malfoy. He was anything but childish, and that in itself invoked misgiving within her.
But the little angelic voice inside her chided her, "Give him a chance!"
So she did, laughing along, as she attempted to roll up his sleeves, and taught him how to get the dust out of the corners, how to change the bed sheets, and she knew, she hadn't been this jovial for quite some time.
--
Ginny lay in bed, eyes closed, savouring the blissful silence that would be brutally annihilated when the kids came back. Silence was indeed golden.
Footsteps pattered their way into the room, and she didn't even bother opening her eyes. A low, soft voice broke into her reverie.
"Oi Gin, you all right? You've been looking pale since this afternoon."
She cocked open one eyelid and looked critically at him.
"Here I am, enjoying the silence, and you come in and disturb me. I won't get this kind of peace and quiet when the kids get back."
"Oh."
Draco fell silent, as he joined her on the bed.
Ginny, though troubled by the ideas that she was getting from his sudden niceness, knew that now was not the time to spoil the calmness between the both of them, with accusations and potentially devastating conversations.
She kept her silence, and the rest of the afternoon passed in similar contented fashion.
--
"Oi Gin! Wake up! We've got to go get the kids now."
Groggily, Ginny propped herself up on her elbows, as she peered through bleary eyes.
"Huh… Oh. Let me go get my cloak first."
"It's here."
Draco held out one arm, draped over which was her favourite green cloak. She looked sleepily at him, and managed coherently, "Uh, thanks. Lemme go wash up."
She stumbled off the bed, and weaved towards the bathroom.
Barely five minutes later, she heard Draco call out sarcastically, "You know, if you hurry, we can be fashionably late. But if you take your time, we can be scandalously late."
She poked a head out of the bathroom as she dragged a brush through her hair and muttered, rolling her eyes, "For a Slytherin, you're really punctual. Sheesh!"
Draco rolled his eyes back equally expressively, and passed Ginny her cloak wordlessly. She took it and patted him on the head, mussing up his hair affectionately.
"Good boy. Now, let's go shall we?"
Face expressionless, Draco shrugged, and grabbed his wand from the bedside table, tucking it into his cloak pocket, as they hurried downstairs to the fireplace.
Ginny scooped up a handful of Floo powder, stepped into the fireplace and shouted her destination over the roar of the neon green flames.
Just as she disappeared, she swore she felt a hand, with a certain air of viciousness, messing up her freshly combed hair. And was that a cackle she heard?
--
Ginny stumbled out of the wide fireplace, coughing from the dust particles clouding around her face. Not a second later, Draco came whooshing out, a smug smirk plastered all over his face.
Two blond flying bombs launched themselves at her, pushing her back a few steps in order to absorb the shock of the impact. Little fingers curled around her thighs, as she ran her hands through her boys' hair tenderly.
"So, how was the stay over? Was it fun?"
"Yes mommy! It was very fun! Could we do it again soon? Please?"
That was Isaac, the younger kid, a perfect replica of Draco, a smile threatening to split his face into two, as he clutched at her robes. Draco strode over from the fireplace and hoisted their other child, Lane, up into his arms, answering, "Yes Isaac, I'm sure Mommy will let you come soon."
Lane piped up, "Mommy I'm hungry, can we go home now?"
Ginny laughed. Typical Lane, with the personality of his father.
"Okay honey, let's go. Have you got your things?"
Ginny pried off her kid's iron grip, as she walked over to where their hosts stood, as Draco grappled with both boisterous boys.
"Hey Luna, thanks for having the kids over. I certainly hope they weren't too much trouble."
"Don't worry, they were exactly like angels. And by the way, happy birthday. Your present will be a little late though."
"Oh dear, you shouldn't have bothered."
"Ah it's okay. Well I suppose you've got to get going. My boy's up in his room, sulking because he won't have any playmates for the weekend."
"Maybe I'll bring them over on Saturday, that okay with you?"
"Yeah sure, well see you soon."
"Thanks and bye."
Ginny waved cheerily at her dreamy friend, and hustled her bemused husband and her chortling kids off to the fireplace.
"Now kids, what did you do to Daddy?"
--
Lying in bed as she read the latest issue of Witches Weekly, having tucked the kids into bed, Ginny finally decided to confront Draco with the nagging thoughts she had been entertaining all day.
"Draco, promise me you'll answer whatever I ask you truthfully."
Said person looked up from a well read, battered copy Quidditch Through The Ages and raised an eyebrow quizzically.
"Ok, I'm going to be brutally honest. I know, that well, maybe our marriage hasn't been exactly jovial for the past months. I'm not saying that we've problems, just that you have been a distant, and we just don't spend so much time together anymore. And today, you've been so… unnaturally nice and sweet."
She paused for a moment, choosing her words. Should she cut straight to the chase, or beat around the bushes for a while more?
Draco interjected, puzzlement written all over his face.
"So?"
"So, the point is, do you have something to tell me? Like maybe, you have some other private matters that you feel needs to be shared, or maybe, there's someone you'd like to tell me about…" Ginny trailed off helplessly.
Wide-eyed with hurt, Draco said lowly, "Do you think I'm having an affair? Do you really think I'm that kind of person?"
"Well, how am I to know!"
Ginny was starting to feel little pangs of guilt.
"If you really must know, I've also felt that we've been drifting apart recently, and the point of today, was to help repair it, if I have to put it that way," Draco huffed indignantly.
Now was Ginny's turn to stare back wide-eyed.
"But I, I…"
At that very moment, a whole flurry of owls swooped in, each carrying parcels of varying shapes and sizes. They deposited their baggage on the bed, and promptly flew out in a 'V' formation.
Ginny gaped at the departing owls.
"What in the name of Merlin…"
She picked up a card that had fallen loose, and flipped it open.
Dear Ginny,
Hey, happy birthday you old hag! So tell me, how did you like the owl formation? We spent weeks training them. Bet you thought we'd forgot your birthday did you? Well we didn't! We just wanted to surprise you with synchronised present deliveries, courtesy of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes.
Hope you like them and happy birthday!
Much love,
Gred and Forge
P.S. Everyone at home contributed to the presents, and so did Hermione, Harry, and guess who? Parkinson!
Ginny giggled a little at her brothers' antics, closing the card and placing it on her bedside table. Turning back to Draco, she cleared her throat and continued, "So well, what exactly were we talking about?"
Truth was, Ginny could barely keep her elation in check. So, he had been worried about their marriage, and most importantly, he had tried! She felt all warm and gooey inside, and she knew she had a goofy grin stuck on her face.
However, Draco wasn't listening. He perused one of the many cards slowly, his eyes looking more and more troubled as he continued.
Suddenly, he dropped the card and clapped his hands over his eyes, blurting out tragically, "Aagh! I forgot to get you a birthday gift! I mean, I was so pre-occupied with how to deal with our problem, that I absolutely forgot!"
He gazed at her, remorse splashed across his face as he whispered tragically, "Can you forgive me?"
Ginny looked at him queerly, before leaning over and planting a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, beaming, "You've already given me the best birthday gift ever."
Just then, their bedroom door swung open, and two heads peeked in. Expression as solemn as his brother's, Lane proclaimed gravely, "Mommy, we forgot to wish you a happy birthday."
Ginny stared and burst out laughing, gesturing the kids over. They scrambled over obediently and bounced onto the bed. She gave both of them a crushing bear hug and chirped, "It's okay darlings. As long as you two listen to Daddy and Mommy, Mommy will be very happy okay?"
She looked up at Draco, and flashed him a quick smile, before she turned her attention to her kids, who were busy tearing the wrappings of her gifts.
And as they spent the rest of the night unwrapping and gasping over the presents, Ginny knew that this was the best birthday of her life, ever.
--
A/N: So. Long. Ten. Pages.
Anyway, this fic is dedicated to Ying Xiang, who writes the best D/G angst ever. Happy belated sweet sixteen darling! Sorry I couldn't upload it yesterday. –makes excuses- Hope you like this fic. I swear, you better, because the ending absolutely killed me, and do forgive any errors.
Thanks to me, for pointing out my plot holes (okay fine, Chryz helped me a little. But only a little! And uh, there might still be some, but who cares! What's a fic without some plotholes?).
If you like it, leave a review, and wish Ying Xiang honey a happy birthday! (: By the way, did I mention she writes brilliantly too? Check her out at schnoogle under Aisling Oigthierna or Damned Well Neurotic, and at darkarts under Cavenagh Road. (Oh and I believe Cavenagh Road is an actual road in Singapore… I think.)
Woot, a birthday fic, and birthday pimpage as well! XD