A/N: Okay, everyone. This does not coincide with "Days"!!! Just
remember before you start reading this that Ginny and Draco are
together. I hope its not too long, but please read until the end and
please, please review! Oh and this is a one-shot and will never be
anything more, so don't ask!
Now, without further adieu, on with the story:
What If?
"This is a lovely specimen, yeah?" Draco gave the witch an annoyed look as she pushed the shrunken head under his nose.
"I'm not interested, savvy?"
Knowing who he was and what kind of power he held, the old witch grumbled a bit before backing off. Draco smirked and started on his way down Knockturn Alley once again. He glanced in a few shops, but didn't really pay much attention. Considering all that was on his mind, he'd been having a hard time concentrating on anything lately.
In exactly one week, he'd either be receiving his Dark Mark or running away from his home and his family. Neither option really appealed to him; hence the problem. He'd been mulling over and over it in his mind for the past three weeks, getting all the more confused as the date crept closer.
"Ah, Master Draco. I haven't seen your father around these parts lately. I hope all is well at the Malfoy Manor." Draco whirled around to see an associate of his father's. He racked his brain for a name, but, coming up with nothing, decided to avoid speaking to him long enough for him to find out that he didn't remember whom he was.
"Of course, things are fine as usual. Now if you'll excuse me, I have matters to attend to."
"Certainly, Master Draco. Tell your father I'd like to meet with him. I've got some things I think he'd be interested in." The man gave Draco a warm smile, or as warm a smile as someone in Knockturn Alley could give anyways.
"Will do." With a curt nod, Draco strode away into the crowd, anxious to get away from his father's associate. He didn't like anyone his father worked with, mainly because he didn't like his father.
He decided he needed some butterbeer to clear his mind and ducked inside a small pub. He slid into one of the booths in the back and called to the waitress. She came over and he ordered a butterbeer. A few minutes later she slammed the foaming tankard down on the table.
Draco raked his hands through his hair and took a sip of butterbeer. He didn't want to leave his family ... well no, that was wrong. He didn't want to leave him Mum; he didn't give a rat's ass what happened to Lucius. He also knew that if he didn't become a Death Eater, that his father and the rest of the Death Eaters would hunt him down and kill him, no questions asked. But, if he did become a Death Eater ... well everyone knew the disadvantages there. He sighed heavily and took a long drink of butterbeer, relishing the warm feeling that had begun to pervade his entire body.
"Feeling a little stressed, my boy?" An old man slid into the booth opposite Draco, smiling mischievously. He had shaggy gray hair and some gray stubble on his chin, making him appear rather scraggly. His eyes were an eerie emerald green and he was wearing a set of patched black robes, which were a size or two too big for him.
"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Despite his attempts, Draco couldn't keep the coldness out of his voice. He was shocked to realize how much he sounded like his father, but put the thought out of his mind for the time being.
"No, you don't. But I know you."
"Who are you?" Draco really didn't have the patience for the seemingly crazy old man, but the old man was keeping Draco's mind off of his decision, so he decided to put up with him for the moment.
"When at first I seem delirious, when in fact, I'm nothing serious."
"What do you want, old man? I don't have time for your riddles." Now Draco was getting annoyed; it was clear that this man wanted nothing but to waste his time.
"I'm not going to waste your time, Draco. For I know that's what your thinking." Draco gaped at him. "I know a great deal more than you think I do. For instance, I know that you're about to make a very big decision. One that will change your life forever." Draco continued to stare at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
"What ... how ... you –"
"If I told you how I knew, not only would you not believe me, you would probably run away. So why don't we just say that a little birdie told me, yeah?" The old man chuckled and thanked the waitress as she set a glass of Firewhisky down in front of him. "Now, you're probably wondering what in the world I'm doing here."
"To put it mildly." Draco took a drink of his butterbeer, trying to calm his nerves as the old man chortled smugly.
"Ah, yes. Well I'm here to help you make that decision. And to, more or less, ensure that you chose the right path."
"And how, exactly, do you plan on doing that?" Draco asked sulkily.
"I have a little bargain to make with you. I want to show you what your life will be like if you chose one side, or the other. If you drink the potion I'm going to give you in a few minutes, you will spend tomorrow in the life you would have if you chose to become a Death Eater. Then, you will spend the next day in the life you would have if you chose not to become a Death Eater. I'm positive that after living through both of them, you will come to the right conclusion." The old man downed the rest of his Firewhisky and stood up. "You are, by all means, welcome to turn down my offer. But it would behoove you if you didn't."
"So what? I just drink it and it takes me into the future, first as a Death Eater, then as not a Death Eater?"
"Precisely." The old man fished in his pockets for a moment before producing a medium-sized vial filled with a sky-blue colored potion. "As I said, you're welcome to turn me down. But I'd prefer you didn't." With a loud 'POP' the old man was gone. Draco looked down at the potion, which was swirling of its own account. He sighed and shrugged; it could only help him.
Grabbing the potion and wrenching the cork out of the top, Draco smirked. "Bottoms up," he stated quietly before knocking back the potion. He immediately felt a tingly sensation in his stomach, accompanied by a slight lightheaded feeling. But as both feelings started to dissipate, he realized that nothing else was going to happen. "Crazy old fool," he muttered.
Draco fished a few sickles out of his pocket and threw them on the table before disapparating with a 'POP'. He was glad to finally be of age, so he didn't have to Floo anymore.
"Oh, there you are, dear. Dinner's in an hour." Narcissa Malfoy smiled warmly at her son as he stepped through the front door of Malfoy Manor.
"Sorry, Mum. I'm feeling a touch under the weather. I won't be joining you and Lucius for dinner." Narcissa's smile fell.
"Alright dear. I'll have a House Elf send up something for you. Why don't you go up and try to get some rest?" Draco smiled and bent over so his mother could kiss him on the forehead, being a full foot taller than her, at 6' 3". In truth, Draco wasn't feeling his best; he had a migraine from all stress and was experiencing an unpleasant bit of nausea. With a weak smile to his mother, Draco trudged up the stairs to his room, where he promptly lay down on his bed and fell asleep.
--
"E-excuse m-me, s-sir?"
"Eh?" Draco rubbed his eyes groggily and sat up. He looked around for the source of the voice that had awoken him, to see a scary-looking wizard cowering before him.
"Th-the D-dark Lord r-requests your p-p-presence," he stuttered. Suddenly, it dawned on him. He was living life as if he had chosen to become a Death Eater! So the potion did work after all!
"Look me in the eye, please," Draco told the trembling wizard calmly. He obeyed and for the second time in a matter of moments, realization dawned on Draco. This was none other than his best friend, Blaise Zabini. Blaise was also faced with the decision as to whether or not he was going to become a Death Eater. He and Draco had decided to make the choice together, seeing as they had been in it together from the start. They had similar families; a jackass, abusive father and a weak, although caring, mother and no siblings. They'd known each other since they were three years old and now, Blaise was cowering at Draco's feet.
"The D-Dark L-lord is c-calling," Blaise said nervously, his eyes darting around the room. Sighing, Draco stood up and motioned for Blaise to lead the way. He knew he couldn't mess with the way things were here, and that meant treating Blaise as would be normal in this life.
Blaise led Draco down the halls of the house, which Draco soon realized was Malfoy Manor, with several changes. It was a lot darker and more mysterious, for one thing, and had many added passageways, rooms, and hallways. Blaise finally stopped in front of a large black door, with the Dark Mark engraved on it and painted over in silver paint.
Draco entered without knocking and strode in. He looked around to see Lord Voldemort sitting behind a desk in the middle of the room, a cloaked Death Eater stationed at each of the four doorways, Lucius Malfoy sitting on an armchair in front of the fire and talking to Regulus Black, and Bellatrix Lestrange sitting in a chair across from Voldemort. Everyone except Voldemort rose when they noticed that Draco had entered.
"You're late. Why didn't you get up when I called you?" growled Voldemort from behind his desk.
Smirking, Draco decided to test his luck. "Didn't feel like it. So what's on the agenda today?" He sat down in the chair next to Bellatrix and propped his feet up on the desk, much to the disgust of Voldemort. Immediately after he had taken a seat, everyone else sat down.
"In one of those weird moods again, are you?" Voldemort picked up the Daily Prophet, which was lying on his desk, and started to read it.
"I s'posse you could call it that," Draco said in a disinterested tone as he examined his fingernails.
Voldemort laughed maliciously, causing everyone to turn to him, except Draco of course who was still engrossed in his fingernails. "The Ministry's lost their last employee. Well, we've just successfully exterminated every Ministry of Magic in the entire world. America was the last one to go." Voldemort smiled, or what Draco assumed was an attempt at a smile, smugly.
"I'm proud of you, Draco, as I know we all are." Draco looked up to find his father standing over him, with a hand on his shoulder. Lucius smirked the trademark Malfoy smirk and Draco returned it.
"Excuse me, but Mrs. Malfoy requests a word with her husband." Draco, Lucius, and Voldemort looked to the Death Eater by the north door. Draco with an expression of interest, Lucius with one of boredom, and Voldemort with one of half-annoyance half-amusement. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, the Death Eater clarified. "Mrs. Pansy Malfoy."
"Of course. Draco, we'll be seeing you at lunch then?"
Draco nodded, dumbfounded. Had he actually married that twit?! He found out the answer when he walked out into the hallway and found none other than Pansy Parkinson (or rather Malfoy) standing there, waiting for him. Seeing how much older she looked, it started to dawn on Draco how much older everyone looked. His father's would-be blonde hair was now starting to gray. Pansy was a little taller and fuller than the last time he had seen her. She slid her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to kiss him. Breaking the kiss short to keep from retching, Draco managed a weak smirk at her as he stiffly wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Something I can do for you, dear?"
"I just thought a congratulations was in order. Being the first wizard to topple every single Ministry of Magic in the world is quite a feat you know." Pansy's pug-face lit up with a sneer-like smile. "And, I wanted to let you know that I've found the last of the Weasleys ... they have been exterminated, just as you asked." Draco almost fell over; the Weasleys?! Ginny was ... well at least he thought she was the love of his life. Perhaps not.
Wait! I'm letting this alternate universe invade my psyche. I've got to get control and view this like an outsider, Draco told himself. "Thanks, baby."
--
"Ah, and here comes the man of the hour, himself!" A Death Eater Draco recognized as Marcus Flint stood up and clapped him on the shoulder. A good number of Death Eaters, including Lucius, and Voldemort were sitting at the dining room table of Malfoy Manor.
"You missed lunch, Draco. Is something wrong?" Voldemort asked.
"No. I didn't fancy having lunch with you blokes, especially when having lunch with my beautiful wife was so much more enticing." Draco smirked and shook his head 'no' as Lucius pointed to the vacant chair at the head of the table.
"I see. As flattered as I am that you chose not to alert me to this fact, I will not deprive Pansy of her rights. She has aided us a great deal in the war and therefore deserves my respect," Voldemort stated flatly. "Now, my son," Draco tried not to seem too shocked, although he couldn't fathom why Voldemort was calling him 'my son'. "Why don't you sit down and have dinner with us? We were just discussing –"
"Sorry, but I'll have to take a rain check." With that, Draco turned around and walked out of Malfoy Manor, not catching the annoyed glare that Voldemort sent him. But even if he had, he knew that Voldemort wasn't going to touch him. From what he'd heard from Pansy, Draco was the sole reason that Voldemort had won the war. Draco knew Harry had the sword of Gryffindor, and also had a sneaking suspicion that since they couldn't duel; it would turn into a sword fight. Seeing as Draco had been taking sword-fighting lessons as a stress-release since he was 10, he was more than competent. Not only had he thought Voldemort everything he knew about the art that was sword fighting, he had been the only one to predict the final battle. And, because Harry wasn't expecting Voldemort to be nearly as prepared as he was, Voldemort caught him off guard and finished him off rather quickly.
Draco walked into the forest on the edge of Malfoy property, where he spent the rest of the evening walking around. Being cooped up inside the house was starting to wear on his nerves. A little while after midnight, he returned to the Manor and snuck up to his bedroom; the master bedroom. He was shocked to learn that Lucius and Narcissa had moved into one of the Malfoy's smaller properties and he and Pansy slept in the master bedroom. Much to his delight, she was already sleeping. She really did disgust him. Shaking all thoughts of Pansy from his mind, Draco drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
--
"Daddy! Daddy, get up!"
"Eh?" Draco groggily opened his eyes and yawned. He surveyed the room to see a little girl, probably about five years old, staring up at him and pulling at his arm. She had pale skin and gray-blue eyes, a lot like Draco's. However, unlike Draco's white-blonde hair, her hair was a curly, crimson mass. Exactly like ... Ginny's?
"Molly! I thought I told you to let your Daddy sleep in today?" None other then Ginny Weasley (or was it Ginny Malfoy) appeared at the door of the bedroom. All the more shocking was the fact that she was pregnant ... very pregnant.
"Sorry, Mummy. But he promised me we'd build a snowman!" the little girl pleaded.
"How did you sleep, dear?" Ginny's attention was now turned to Draco, who just then realized that he had a wide grin plastered on his face.
"Oh, umm, fine." Ginny smiled warmly before turning back to the little girl.
"Why don't you go have some breakfast? And then afterwards your Daddy and I will help you build a snowman. Okay?"
"Okay Mummy!" Molly cried happily as she skipped off down the hallway. Ginny chuckled, shaking her head as she entered the bedroom, which Draco now recognized as a much happier Malfoy Manor master bedroom.
"Are you okay, honey? You look a little ... confused."
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine." Draco stood up and cupped her face in his hands, smiling. "You're beautiful."
"This he says to the cow!" Ginny responded with a chuckle.
"You're not a cow. You're beautiful." Draco smiled as Ginny rolled her eyes but kissed him nonetheless.
"Come on. You promised our daughter that we'd help her make a snowman and I don't think she's going to let you forget it." Ginny entwined her fingers with Draco's, giving him a sideways glance as he toyed with the wedding ring on her finger. "What?"
"Nothing," Draco replied with a goofy grin.
--
"Draco! Fix her scarf! She's going to catch cold out here in this weather!" Draco chuckled but obeyed his wife and re-wrapped the scarf around Molly's neck.
"It's not as if the most brilliant Healer in the world, who also happens to be her mother, couldn't fix a simple thing like a cold." Draco sighed as Molly ran around in circles in the snow. He'd deduced that Ginny was a Healer at St. Mungo's, along with the fact that the war had ended. And it had not ended in Voldemort's favor. "Geez, Gin. What're you feeding that girl? She's got more bloody energy than a Cornish Pixie!"
"Draco, watch your language around her! And she gets all her energy from you constantly riling her up." Ginny smiled; she was sitting on a bench a few yards away from where her husband and daughter had just finished their snowman.
"And why, pray tell, is our lovely sister sitting out in the cold?!" Draco whirled around to see Fred and George Weasley, slightly older than the last he'd seen them, coming up the drive of Malfoy Manor.
"Morning, Fred, George."
"Good morning, Ginny."
"Morning, Gin." The twins walked up and sat on either side of their sister.
"Uncle Fred! Uncle George!" Molly screamed as she ran past Draco and up to her uncles, a wide grin on her face. Draco chuckled and jogged after her.
"Morning you two."
"Morning Draco," the twins said at the same time, while being stifled by Molly's hugs.
"Uncle Fred, come look at the snowman we built!" Molly grabbed Fred's hand and dragged him off the bench and over to the snowman. Draco sat down in his now unoccupied seat, wrapping his arm around Ginny.
"So why are you letting my beautiful sister sit out here in the cold, Draco?" Ginny smacked George in the stomach.
"Just like with Molly and Arthur, Ginny's the one that orders me around, not the other way," Draco said, grinning cheekily. He didn't know where that had come from. He suspected that the potion left some parts of the Draco that would be living this life intact, so that the Draco who drank the potion wouldn't be completely floundering.
"Ah, but that's the truth with all the Weasley women, I'm afraid. I mean look at Ron and 'Mione."
"And you and Alicia!" Ginny added, grinning. "Not to mention Fred and Angelina."
"That's a match made in heaven if there ever was one. She's got him so whipped, still after all these years." George chuckled as he watched Fred flop over in the snow next to Molly as they made snow angels. He turned to Ginny and rubbed her large stomach. "You feeling okay?"
"Hmm? Of course, George, I'm fine. We have almost a month to go, you don't have to start worrying yet." Ginny chuckled and shook her head. "Honestly, if the Weasley women know how to control their men, then the Weasley men are the biggest worry warts in England. I mean, you'd think after all those births in the family, you lot would be able to keep your heads."
"Ah, but if we did that, Ginny dear, we wouldn't be Weasley men," Draco added with a smile.
--
"Oy! Draco! You pick a name for the kid yet?" Ron asked good-naturedly as he clapped his brother-in-law on the back.
Draco was about to respond when his wife came up and slid her hand into his, speaking before he had the chance to. "If you're asking whether or not we're going to name the baby after you, no. But I think," Ginny looked at Draco who nodded encouragingly. "I think I want to name him William."
"Oh, Gin, I think that's wonderful!" Hermione, who had been standing next to Ron, hugged Ginny, as best she could anyways. Hermione was pregnant as well, but only five months. Bill had been lost in the war, as had Percy.
"Come on you lot, Mum says dinner's ready!" Charlie said, poking his head through the kitchen door. The rest of the huge Weasley family filed into the dining room.
Draco looked around and smiled happily as they started to eat. Molly and Arthur were there, of course. Along with Fred, his wife Angelina, and their two children, Leo and Jim; twin boys exactly like Fred and George. There was George with Alicia and their two children, Lizzie and Shelley; twin girls, whose demeanors were not too far off from that of Fred and George, though they did have a little of Alicia's shyness and even temper. Then there was Ron and Hermione, who were still awaiting the birth of their first child. Charlie, who had, after all these years, still remained single. Next there was Harry and Luna, along with their two children Lily and James. Much to his surprise, Narcissa was there as well, having an animated conversation with Arthur. After Lucius' death in the war, she'd been accepted into the Weasley family with open arms. Finally there was Draco and Ginny, and little Molly of course.
He chuckled softly to himself as a warm feeling came over him; this was family. It wasn't anything like the cold, silent dinners he had shared with Lucius and his mother. Everyone was talking about something or other, smiling and eating happily. When they returned to the Malfoy Manor later that night, which he had realized was a lot more homey and bright with Ginny's touch-ups, he retained that warm feeling. He snuggled closer to his wife, who smiled and kissed him on the cheek though her eyes were still closed, before drifting off to a peaceful sleep.
--
"Eh?" Draco sat up; a pounding had awakened him on his door. He turned and looked at the clock on his bedside table; 9 AM. He sighed; he would need to pack his things. For now, he had less than a week to orchestrate his escape from Malfoy Manor.
A/N: Okay, I know it was really long, but I hope it kept your interest. I know that the day as a Death Eater wasn't described in as much detail as the day with Ginny, but that's because he didn't really care to remember that much of it. You understand what I mean? I'm sure you do. Now please, please review!