She stands on the shoreline, the crisp November air gently nipping at her exposed flesh reminds her that winter is well on its way. Thankful for wearing her thick wool cloak, she pulls the covering tighter around her slender frame, relishing the comfort it provides. Slowly she inches closer to the water, inviting the waves to lick at her faux dragon hide boots. She had chosen this spot for a reason. Nestled between a wall of hills and a thicket of trees this lake had quickly become a sanctuary for the young woman. Her youngest brother had brought her here at the end of her seventh year at Hogwarts. Knowing that she needed quiet that their childhood home could not provide, he said that he had found the perfect place for her to spend the summer months studying for her Grinbrums Academy of Healing entrance exam. Pangs of guilt still rippled through her chest when remembering that she had suggested that his girlfriend had been the one to find the spot and he just took the credit. She shook her head slightly to clear the recollection from her mind. Now was not the time. She glanced at her wrist, silently cursing herself for forgetting her watch. Craning her neck to the sky she surmised it was a little past noon. Smiling to herself, remembering how she had been taught to use the sun as a timepiece as a little girl. She wasn't sure how long she had stood on the lake's edge, lost in thought, before his heavy footsteps shook her from her reverie.
"You're late," she announced, amber eyes riveted to the azure pool before her as the scent of vanilla and kindling invaded her senses. She knows he's aware of his tardiness but calls him on it still. He lacks patience for reprimands and she uses this to her knowledge. "For all of the etiquette lessons you attended as a child, I find it hard to believe that your governess simply forgot to instill upon you the importance of punctuality."
"The importance of punctuality was explained wholly, I assure you," he supplied coolly, moving aside to lean against a nearby tree. "As was who is deserving of such considerations," he finished, noting the hard tone her voice had taken.
"Call me presumptive, but I think it's safe to say you don't possess the capacity to differentiate between good judgment and the contrary," she reasoned, turning to face her companion. "Your judgment has made you a less than reliable source. Some would say you're only out to please yourself. Now, now, whatever would your mother say? Again, such useful lessons wasted."
Crossing his arms he countered, "Well Weasley, what does that say about your judgment? I suggest that if you want to convince others of their misgivings you must first make sure you have none of your own. Sleeping with a married man? And a Malfoy at that. Perhaps it's your mother you should be concerned with," he responded disinterestedly, smoothing the invisible creases from his rattlesnake skin gloves.
The color rose in her cheeks and he raised a hand to stop her retort. "As much as I would love to sit here and debate the concept of morality with you I really must be getting back to more pressing matters. You've made it clear we're not here for a shag so if you could just hurry this along…"
"Hurry this along," she echoed. "Well Malfoy, I wouldn't want to inconvenience you more than I already have. Perhaps I should just give you the highlights then," she continued, ignoring his amused expression. I visited McCruggum's in Knockturn Alley, today. You know the one. Rumor has it your father sent a mistress or two down that way himself.
His eyes narrowed at the name and instantly she knew he'd made the connection. Draco Malfoy was many things but stupid was most certainly not one of them.
"You don't mind, do you?" Her words dripped with false concern as brown eyes locked with gray. "You said it yourself; some are simply undeserving of certain considerations. Or perhaps that's a bit of reaching on my part, to think that that someone as emotionally devoid as you could come to care for a love child." The words seemed to spill from her mouth of their own volition and her chest was beginning to heave from the exertion. She had waited for this moment for weeks and she wasn't going to allow it to pass her by. "But however would dear Astoria react to her husband's bastard child. I assume she'd be less than receptive."
Her eyes were flooded with anger now as she searched his face. She would have guessed he hadn't heard her if not for the malicious glint reflected back at her. Seconds stretched on between them as her breathing returned to its normal pace, amplifying the silence that tainted the air.
"Well Weasley, perhaps if you had made use of contraceptives the way you have a dictionary this whole unsightly situation could have been avoided. Or perhaps the fault is on me for even entertaining the notion that something so simple would have occurred to you," he mocked, pushing his tall frame from the tree. "And might I clarify, Red, that the absurdity lies in you believing that I would actually allow a woman of your stature to carry my child. Whether I cared for it is another matter entirely, he scathed, inching towards her with every word. "It would seem that you've done me quite the favor," he concluded, towering over her diminutive frame.
"I did you a favor," Ginny repeated incredulously. "Oh yes, because carrying Draco Malfoy's spawn is such an honor. Merlin Malfoy, thank you ever so much for the opportunity, but this is a chance of a lifetime that I won't regret declining. Thist baby deserves a father that will love them unconditionally. A father that will spend time with them, teach them right from wrong. That will cuddle them after they've had a bad dream and will tell them it's okay to cry after they've scraped their knee. And you, Malfoy, are capable of none of the above. Being a father takes more than a full Gringotts vault," Ginny raged, chest heaving once more. Fleetingly, Ginny thought she saw something flash through his mercurial eyes but quickly banished the thought. His words have more than proved she made the right decision.
At this, Draco stepped back, before turning on his heel. "Oh, and Weasley," he spat, "perhaps you should revisit those grammar lessons. You should be using the past tense here. My baby's dead, remember? You killed it," he threw over his shoulder before apparating.
Ginny stepped backed to the water's edge staring hard at the woman reflected on the shimmering surface. Blinking rapidly, she willed the tears from her eyes. What have I done? She stood firmly in the soft ground, watching intently as her straight auburn hair reverted back to its natural wavy, chestnut brown.
As Hermione Granger stared at the woman in the water, she willed herself to believe she'd done the right thing. "I did it for Ginny and the baby," she muttered to herself. "They deserve better."
Now all that was left was to return the clothes to Ginny's wardrobe before she returned home from work. And then she had a baby shower to plan. After all, her sister-in-law was expecting her first child.