Bittersweet, a story by yellownotepaper

Category: Harry Potter

Rating: T

Summary: Ginny Weasley had everything she had ever wanted. But what happens when someone turns it all upside-down? Post-war. gw.dm

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its character's.

Chapter: One

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Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
Whole misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents' strife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

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For the first time in her life, Ginny Weasley was not looking forward to her birthday.

She wished that she could relive the magic of it, her own special holiday; the kind of which she had not experienced since she was a young girl. To be naive and carefree, without a worry or guilt in the world; it was a treasure that was not fully appreciated until it was gone, until it was too late.

The words on the sheet Ginny was staring at blurred together as her eyes swam out of focus, subconsciously biting her lip as she guiltily dreaded leaving her office. She knew that a party of some sort was waiting for her at her apartment, and she was feeling rather anxious about the whole affair. Sure, she was looking forward to spending time with her family (and getting loads of excellent presents from them), but what really bothered her was the fact that she would have to act again.

She hated to fake emotions to her parents – to anyone, really – but she just couldn't let on how she felt about Harry. To crush everything that they'd cautiously been building for over three years was simply unfathomable. After all, how could anyone not like him? He was brave, handsome, smart, and voted the most eligible bachelor in Britain and several other European countries. But Ginny just couldn't see him like she did all those years ago, when she was a foolish, innocent girl with a shoddy opinion of love. She bit her lip as memories of not-so-long-ago washed over her.

Harry Potter had asked her out in her 5th year, his 6th, and Ginny had to pinch herself several times to make sure that her inexperienced mind was not playing tricks on her. Dashingly handsome Harry Potter, the soon-to-be savior of the wizarding world, liked her? Little Ginny Weasley with the funny red hair and the boyish hand-me-down clothes? Impossible. After all, she had liked him for nearly 5 years, and he had never before let on that he wished to be more than friends.

However, it became steadily more apparent that Harry Potter wanted to be more than friends with Ginny Weasley. And when Ginny looked in the mirror, she didn't see the little girl with the funny freckles, horribly pale skin, and red hair that looked as if it could singe you if you got too close. She saw a young woman; a young woman who had managed to snag the hottest guy in school.

In those few short weeks that they had dated, Ginny felt as if she'd been swept off her feet and they had never touched the ground again. She was spun into a whirlwind of magic and wonder. All the girls were intensely jealous of her; she was forced to endure more than her fair share of catty insults from his unofficial fan club, most of them from a tall dark-haired Romilda Vane. But she dealt with them because she knew that Harry loved her, like he had told her so many times as he kissed her; hot, drugged kisses that left her weak at the knees. What else could she do but believe him?

They broke it off, due to Harry's noble 'I don't want you to get hurt' sentiment. But Ginny was hurt. Hurt more deeply then she would ever let anyone see. She understood his reasoning, and even agreed with it. She only wished that they could be like a normal couple, going out for an ice cream in the broad daylight with no one throwing hexes at them, with no single person to ruin their night. Harry could tell that she was upset, and he took her aside to speak in private that night.

"Promise me something, Ginny," Harry said, stroking her hand softly with his callused thumb.

"Anything," she said softly, her brown eyes fixed on his.

He grabbed her hand with both of his now, his gaze intensifying. "When this is all over," he said quietly,

"Marry me."

Being the foolish girl that she had once been, she agreed straight away.

Even though their engagement was in place, they had decided not to slip a word to anyone about the event. Ginny had no regrets at the time about saying yes – 'What could be better than marrying Harry Potter?' she had thought. Since that night, she hadn't looked at any other boy twice, or dreamed of anyone but Harry and their eventual marital bliss together. She was often reprimanded in class the following months after their conversation, staring dreamily off into space and wondering where he was, or if he was thinking about her like she was thinking about him.

She yawned, resting her head on her folded arms as dreams of the past came over her once more…

"Ginny!" Harry shouted hoarsely, ducking as a jet of blue light flew over his head. She felt her hair ruffle as a curse soared past her and into a tree, which immediately caught fire.

He rushed over to her, deftly deflecting another beam of light that had flown out of a death eater's wand. "Expelliarmus!"he shouted, and the wand flew out of the surprised man's hand. Harry's upper lip curled nastily as he aimed another curse at the cloaked figure, who fell clumsily to the ground, motionless.

Ginny stared frantically at Harry, who wiped a trembling hand across his sweaty forehead, streaking it with dirt and grime. "You have to be more careful, Ginny," he muttered to her apprehensively, green eyes swiftly darting around the battlefield to ensure that they were not due for another attack. "It's not a playground out here!"

"I know, I know," Ginny whispered desperately, her voice breaking with emotion. "But Harry –" She broke off as a curse flew through the air, headed straight at her temple. Her eyes widened and, as she ducked, Harry deflected it with a careless flick of his wand. His eyes hardened as he stared at the death eater, an uncharacteristically ugly look on his face.

He placed a sweaty hand on her bruised shoulder, squeezing it gently. "We'll talk later, Gin," he said, offering her a weak smile. She made a feeble attempt to return it, but she was certain that it looked more like a grimace than a smile. The last thing she felt like doing at the moment was smiling. Harry turned on his heel and sprinted off, leaving behind a girl who had never felt so helpless in her life.

Her eyes watched him go, a lump in her throat. What if there was no later, she thought miserably. This battle was the fight to determine the fate of one of the most deadly wars in history. Her fiancé was fighting the most evil wizard to ever walk the earth, and it was very possible that Harry would…

She shook her head like a dog with water in its ears, trying to erase that thought completely from her mind. 'No,' she told herself fervently. 'I won't think about that, because it's not going to happen. We're all going to be fine.' Not completely reassured, she drew her wand quickly, blinking the tears out of her eyes furiously.

She ran a nervous hand through her tangled hair, swallowing the lump in her throat. "We're going to be fine," she said to herself shakily, forgetting momentarily that she was in the middle of a battle.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," said an icy voice behind her, and Ginny felt her heart stop. Her blood ran cold as she closed her eyes and whirled around to realize that she was completely surrounded by dark, cloaked death eaters. Lucius Malfoy, the obvious leader of the pact, stepped forward from the center of the semi-circle.

Tall, dark, and menacing, his cold grey eyes flashed as he looked her up and down. Her fingers automatically tightened on her wand.

"This is what the great Harry Potter sends to defend himself and his people?" he scoffed, his face hidden behind an ugly black mask. He laughed coldly, and Ginny felt a shiver go down her spine. He sneered at her, and spat on the ground. "Pathetic," he hissed maliciously.

Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. Provoking them would not help. Lucius looked her up and down quickly, his facial expression softening in a not at all comforting way. "Although…" The tone of his voice had changed; it was silkier, more charming. Ginny felt her blood run cold – she'd heard that tone before…

He sounded like Tom.

He stepped forward so they were only a foot apart, his cloak dragging behind him on the parched, yellowing grass. His grey eyes darkened with lust, rolling over her ripped shirt, which was revealing a strip of her bra, and over her low-riding jeans she had thrown on before racing off to battle.

"You seem to have…improved, since I last saw you," he drawled, his eyes not meeting her own. She felt herself blush, embarrassed but furious by his blatant scrutiny. He lifted a heavily cloaked arm to caress her cheek, his hand cold and rough against the soft surface of her skin. She shuddered and bit her lip, backing up a few paces.

"However…" he trailed off, glancing behind him with a smirk. Ginny followed his line of vision to see that he was staring at the semi-circle of death eaters, all staring at her with a gleam of excitement in their eyes, "I shall leave you with my son."

As if on cue, a tall, familiar looking blond boy stepped forward, cloaked in black but mask-less, his pale skin shining in the dimming afternoon. Ginny fell weakly to her knees, her heart pounding a tattoo in her chest as she stared up into those memorable gray-blue eyes.

He stared back with the same intensity, his eyes unreadable and blank. Her breathing seemed to stop altogether as their eyes locked, gray on brown. Electricity flowed through every pore in her body, an intimate bond connecting them together as one. The dull pain in her head seemed to vanish as he stared at her, his eyes clear and filled with emotion. She felt his hand tighten on her own, and felt a jumpy feeling in her heart; the kind she got whenever she was with Harry. Ginny blinked.

A chill swept over her as Lucius nodded at him and, before Ginny could quite react, he had grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled her flush to him in a bruising kiss. She gasped in surprise and fear, and he slid his tongue into her mouth, gagging her.

The death eaters were laughing now, cruel smiles plastered on their masked faces. Lucius was among them, a smirk twisting his thin mouth. Ginny struggled against him, but he was too strong for her; a hand snaked around her waist and crushed her to him. A warmth seeped through his robes and onto her scantily clad body, and she suddenly felt…not exactly comfortable, but relaxed.

He pulled away for a second, and stared at her, his eyes locked onto her own. Ginny felt herself shiver, although she wasn't entirely sure that it was from the cold. She could still feel the pressure from his lips on her own, and subconsciously bit her lip, running her tongue over the back of her teeth.

Draco released her from his vice-like grip, and she fell back to the ground, landing rather unceremoniously on her knees once more. He plunged his hand into the front pocket of his robes and withdrew a thin, wooden wand. He pointed it at her head and, very fast, so fast Ginny thought she might have imagined it, he winked.

A sudden rush of understanding came over Ginny as he shouted.

"Basanistirio!"

A horrible, painless scream erupted out of her mouth, her hands flailing madly in the air as she fell to her back. She was twitching uncontrollably, becoming steadily dirtier in the mud she was lying in. An intense feeling of relief, rather than pain, as the death eaters believed, had come over her. She was saved. For now, at least. Her breathing became unsteady as she yelled hoarsely for help. After a few seconds, she relaxed limply on her back, her eyes closed and beads of sweat visible on her forehead.

"I don't remember that spell," said Lucius coolly, staring unblinkingly at Draco as Ginny lay panting on the grimy earth, staring at both of them with equal parts horror and confusion.

"Its rather new," Draco lied flawlessly, looking bored. Ginny could see one of his hand shaking but he, realizing this, quickly steadied it and let it fall gracefully at his side. Lucius' face was suspicious, but he did not speak. He nodded curtly at Draco once more, and Draco turned to face Ginny once more, his face emotionless. He raised his wand.

"Usurpo Fruor!" he cried, and a jet of purple sparks flew out of the end of his wand. They surrounded Ginny in pleasant warmth, tickling her exposed skin gently. She felt herself grinning, and quickly turned it into a grimace.

"Ahh hahahh," she shrieked. It felt as if a thousand feathers had suddenly appeared out of thin air and were tickling her mercilessly. She turned onto her stomach so the onlookers couldn't see her smile, and tried her best not to laugh. It was difficult, and she rolled around a bit on the ground in an attempt to make her supposed 'torture' more believable.

"Draco," said Lucius harshly, and Draco lowered his wand. The spell lifted, and Ginny felt the smile slide off of her face as she scrambled back into a sitting position. The tickling sensation she had felt seconds before was rapidly being replaced by a feeling of cold dread. Lucius did not seem to be as convinced as the other death eaters, who were still grinning maliciously at her.

He was looking at Draco with look of calm confusion plastered on his pasty face, his eyes flashing dangerously. Draco stared right back at him defiantly, but he weakened slightly under his callous gaze.

"Get on with it, boy!" he snapped.

Ginny looked quickly at Draco, who's icy demeanor had finally cracked. He looked years younger; his face was vulnerable and soft, looking helplessly at the wand handing limply in his hand. He glanced up at her, and his resolve seemed to harden. The impassive mask seemed to reappear on his face, his eyes dulling as his fingers tightened around his wand.

"As you wish, Father," he said softly. He took a few long strides until he was directly in front of her, before leaning forward and whispering, "Run."

Ginny didn't think twice. She scrambled to her feet and ran in the opposite direction, toward the forbidden forest, as shouts and jets of light flashed behind her. Her breathing was rapid and panicked, but she did not slow her pace. She was numb with fear but kept running, occasionally throwing a hex over her shoulder in the event that a death eater was chasing her.

She threw herself only minutes later behind a large oak tree, about twenty feet from the smoking hut that had once been Hagrid's home, and closed her eyes with relief. She gave an involuntary whimper of pain as her head hit the tree trunk. Her entire body was aching; each limb felt as if it weighed as much as a house. Although she was severely uncomfortable and one of her legs was lying, exposed, to the death eaters, she couldn't bring herself to move.

A sigh escaped her as she opened her eyes, staring up at the canopy of leaves above her. Her heart was still racing as if she had run a marathon instead of just about fifty yards. Her body was weak and exhausted, but her mind was still in a fit state, and its gears were turning furiously. What exactly had just happened?

A loud, victorious shout echoed around the grounds. She started, her eyes darting apprehensively around the grounds. With a great effort, she weakly crawled around the tree, struggling to stay conscious. Pain was shooting through her body like a thousand piercing nails, but she ignored it, bracing herself against the tree for support. She collapsed only seconds later on the opposite side of the trunk, breathing heavily, all energy drained from her frail body.

She turned her head slowly, wincing at the throbbing pain that erupted in her head as she did so. She squinted, trying to make out the figures in the distance. A red-headed man was…whooping, yelling to someone with obvious relief and joy. It was Ron, she realized with a jolt. Ron was cheering…but why?

A whisper of hope erupted in her mind, and raw energy coursed through her, giving her the strength to stand. Her breathing was speeding up, her eyes frantically searching the grounds until she saw her youngest brother again. Yes, that was definitely him, she thought, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. She saw a bushy-haired witch run across the field and into his arms, tears running down her face. She wrapped her legs around him and began snogging him desperately, their arms so tightly wound around each other it was hard to tell who's was whose.

Maybe…just maybe… they had won?

She bit her lip anxiously, praying with all her might that it was true. 'Please,' she thought. 'If there is a God, just let this be true.' She closed her eyes tightly, feeling a hot tear escape and run down her cheek before she opened them again, still gazing at the embracing couple on the battlefield.

"Ron," she groaned weakly. Her feet felt like lead; she couldn't move. He was too far away for her to hear, of course, but she needed to know…she had to know for sure…She let out a sob that she had not realized that she had been holding in. "Ron, what…?" She gasped and broke off mid-sentence, not that anyone had been listening to her.

He had done it.

Harry had killed Voldemort.

Harry was standing in the center of the grounds, his shirt sticking to his panting body, slick with sweat. He seemed to be shaking violently; his wand was still pointed at the pile of robes at his feet, now all that was left of the most evil wizard of all time. He glanced at her, and a huge, nervous grin broke out on his face. Ginny could feel a huge, thankful grin curve her own mouth as well, a happiness filling her like nothing else had ever had. Relief was flooding through her tense body, and the pain that had seemed so excruciatingly awful only seconds before seemed to dull.

Her feet seemed to magically unstick themselves from the soil; the next thing she knew, she was running as fast as she had ever run in her life towards Harry, all the pain she had felt only seconds before vanishing. She ran to him desperately, an ache to feel his hands or simply to hear his voice erupting inside her like a volcano. Her feet seemed to reach him at last, knocking him to the ground. She felt him chuckle against her neck, his deep voice vibrating against her throat. And oh, it felt so right, with his lips on hers and their arms and legs tangled together as one; saying his name over and over and hearing him do the same, pushing all thoughts of gray eyes from her mind…

Soon after the war had ended, they had announced their engagement. Her family, of course, threw a huge party, with many people invited that neither she nor Harry knew in the least. Ginny was thrilled, naturally; who wouldn't be?

Ginny herself could sometimes not believe it – she would wake up some mornings and still be years behind, when their entire existence was shrouded in shadow. But Voldemort was dead - dead and never coming back Tom was gone too, she reminded herself. Tom would never come to haunt her ever again.

Unfortunately, someone had taken his place.

It was nothing like Tom, these recurring dreams that had materialized unknowingly in her dreams. With Tom, it was simply devotion; unwavering loyalty and admiration for such a handsome older boy who had looked so much like Harry, so much it was almost as good as the real thing. No, this was different – such raw passion in those eyes, such a violent pleasure hidden behind them that made her shudder even after she had awoken.

And even after the three years that had passed since the war was over, she would often still wake in a thin sheen of sweat, dreaming of a pair of grey eyes and a heated body that had seemed so real a few seconds before…

"Ginny?"

Ginny awoke with a start, opening a bleary eye. "Neville?" she muttered, sitting up from the desktop she had been napping on and stretching. "What are you d-doing here?" She yawned, her eyelids drooping.

"Don't play stupid, Gin," he teased, his round face beaming at her. "You know why I'm here." Ginny restrained a groan. She had forgotten.

Neville had conveniently been invited over to her flat for dinner that night by Harry Potter, her fiancé of three years. 'A quiet get-together', he had said, but she didn't miss the wink that they had shared when they thought she wasn't looking. This thought made her dread going home even more than ever before. Harry would be expecting something tonight, and she just wasn't up to it.

"Alright," she sighed, getting up slowly and brushing back a lock of crimson hair behind her ear. She bit her lip subconsciously, glancing around the room for her briefcase. Her eyes focused on the black bag in the corner and, feeling too tired to fetch it herself, she simply cried "Accio," and it flew into her outstretched hand.

She waved her wand at various files that besieged her desk, and they flew messily into the open case as she pulled on her black traveling cloak. Her mind was still whirring with the remains of her reminiscent daydream, and she walked through the door that Neville held open for her in a sort of daze.

These daydreams had become more frequent the more hours she spent working, which had been steadily increasing since her partner had quit two weeks ago. Ginny hadn't gotten a good night's sleep since then.

"Gin?"

Ginny blinked slowly and took in her surroundings. Her feet seemed to have taken her to the Lobby of the Ministry without her knowing. She glanced up at Neville, who was staring at her with a concerned expression on his boyish face.

"You all right, Gin?" he said, sounding slightly worried.

"Yeah," said Ginny, forcing a smile. "Brilliant."

Neville seemed to completely miss the sarcasm, and held out the flower pot full of floo powder. She grasped a handful and threw in into a fireplace with the number '15' engraved on the border in elegant silver handwriting. Green flames erupted inside, and Ginny felt a pleasantly warm sensation as she stepped inside and yelled, "The Burrow!"

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A:N:// Oooo my first series in practically a year! Hooray hurrah! I wanted to write a d/g, and this came to me. It was originally going to be a really long one-shot, but I decided to make a series. DDD

I know that Draco seems a little OOC, but I'll explain it all in later chapters, I promise. Thanks to laur for editing (most of) this story!

By the way, 'basanistirio' means 'torture' in Greek, and usurpo fruor both mean 'enjoy' in Latin.

r&r sweeties!

--- Erin