Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Summary: Ginny/Harry/Draco in various styles and worlds, written as responses to thirtyforthree's first theme set. Experimental.

Author's Note: I am going to ask that you READ THIS NOTE all the way through. It is VERY IMPORTANT.

I wrote "Fixation, and Other Stories" as a set of theme responses for the thirtyforthree livejournal community. At first, I had no intention of letting any of the stories, drabbles, or character study vignettes interlock into anything like a unified story or timeline. Except then some of them did.

"Fixation, and Other Stories" is arranged in a pattern of alternating chapters. The odd-numbered ones contain two fics each and are all part of a single timeline -- "Fixation" -- while the even-numbered chapters -- the "Other Stories" part of the title -- contain three fics each and have sod-all to do with each other. The only consistent inter-chapter link is that they all deal with the same three people: Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, and Draco Malfoy. (Each even-numbered chapter does, however, have an internal thematic link, like 'dystopian future' or 'crack AU.')

Basically, I was just having fun and trying bizarre things out to see if they would fly or crash. Some flew. Others I'm still not sure about.

Thanks to Elaine K. for beta-reading.

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Fixation, VI
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Fault Lines -- 22, remembering

It was a good morning until he reached page two of the newspaper. Then his stomach roiled, and he wanted to start casting Unforgiveables.

Draco folded the paper, dropped it onto the floor, and pulled the serving platter of bacon over to his side of the table. "Potter. Let's buy the Daily Prophet, fire all the writers, and burn the offices to the ground."

"That won't do any good," said Harry. "Give me some bacon and tell me what they wrote this time."

Draco sniffed. "Ginny only cooks it because I like it -- therefore, it's my bacon, and I can share it or not as I please. Today I don't please." But he handed one slice across the table, just to keep Harry listening. "It's the usual rubbish. Father dead in Azkaban, mother a Death Eater, hereditary Black madness and obsession -- mostly Aunt Bellatrix, but they threw Sirius in for variety -- the attack on Hogwarts, and wondering how long before I snap and murder you in your sleep. I wouldn't murder you in your sleep even if I did want to set myself up as a Dark Lord; it's tacky, and besides, Ginny would skin me alive."

"I'm glad we're clear on that," said Ginny, setting down a platter of toast and a jar of marmalade. "Ignore them, Draco; they just want an entertaining reaction out of you."

"I know," snapped Draco, "but just once, I wish they'd remember that nobody spends all their time being evil. And this time, there's a side article wondering if I was abused and spent my childhood acting out -- they bring up Father's walking stick, and the way Mother never hugged me in public. It's one thing to say they were terrorists who served the Dark Lord -- that's true, after all -- but they were good parents!"

Harry looked skeptical. "There's more than one kind of abuse -- I looked it up, after the war. The Dursleys never hit me, or really starved me, but locking people in cupboards and telling them they're worthless isn't exactly good parenting either. Emotional neglect, I think it's called."

"Father only criticized when I did something stupid or failed to live up to my potential," said Draco. "When I did something right, he told me that too. And what do you mean, emotional neglect? I wasn't neglected. Mother and Father loved me. You know Snape killed Dumbledore because Mother made him swear the Unbreakable Vow to carry out my task if I failed! If she hadn't loved me, she would never have gone that far."

Harry was clutching the butter knife like a sword, and Draco abruptly realized that that had, perhaps, not been the best example to raise.

"I'm still sorry about that," he said quietly. "But you have to see that even if my parents were on the wrong side, that didn't make them bad parents."

Silence fell for a moment, broken by Ginny's cough. "You might expect Death Eaters to be cruel in all situations, but people are amazingly good at compartmentalizing," she said in a distant tone, not looking up from her toast and marmalade. "One group of people matters, and everyone else doesn't count. So your parents could love you and murder your Muggle-born classmates at the same time, because you counted and the others were vermin. Or my parents can love me and hate you, because I'm family and you're evil. Or Harry's aunt and uncle--"

Harry took a deep breath. "Okay, I get it. Back to the original subject -- no, you can't do anything to the Daily Prophet. It won't help. What you can do, if you're that upset, is give Luna an interview and explain what your family was really like."

Draco considered the idea. On the one side, it would make the truth public. On the other side, he hated talking about his family; no matter how he tried to explain things, he only seemed to give gossip-mongers more food for their poisonous theories. On the third side, maybe it was time to tell his story so he could finally wash his hands of the whole business and just point people to the interview whenever they asked intrusive questions; that seemed to work for Harry.

"Right. Ginny, when's the best time to Floo Luna?"

Ginny swallowed a bite of toast and said, "Ask Harry -- she never talks about work when we go out drinking."

"I'll bring her by the Ministry when I pick you up for lunch," said Harry. "She'll probably want an exclusive on whatever Dark objects you're cataloging today, but I'm sure you'll be able to talk her out of that."

"I hate when you barge in and drag me off in the middle of work; you always interrupt me in the middle of forensic charms and everybody stares at you," Draco grumbled, but it was a pro forma objection and they both knew it.

"So that's settled," said Ginny, clapping her hands briskly. "Now, since I was nice enough to get up early and cook for you two today, it's your turn to wash the dishes and do the rest of the housework."

The subsequent argument pushed aside the last of Draco's outrage, at least for the moment.

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Truce -- 8, babies

What you have to know is that Draco Malfoy is a bloody fucking bastard. I hate him, he hates me, and in a perfect world I'd get to kill him for everything he's done, and then I'd get a bloody medal for it.

So it's perfectly reasonable that I didn't want him coming to see Abigail. But we had to have Harry and Ginny over, and these days, that means having Malfoy too -- they've gone downright unreasonable about him. Hermione's always after me to at least act polite in public, and if you pulled my fingernails out by the roots, I might admit that Malfoy seems to make my sister and my best friend happy, so...

We invited them over.

Abigail was three days old. They'd just let Hermione out of the Muggle hospital -- still can't believe she talked me into that instead of St. Mungo's or a midwife -- her parents had driven us home, and we'd got Mum and Dad's visit out of the way. Hermione was in the rocking chair, feeding Abigail -- lucky girl -- and I was fixing lunch. Nothing fancy, just fish and chips, but I cook better than she does, and we can't keep house elves more than a couple months before she drives them to drink with her liberation nonsense and I have to work another swap with the Ministry relocation office.

Anyway, I'd just put everything on the plates and dropped the frying pan in the sink when the doorbell rang. That was Harry. Ginny's got as rude as the twins these days -- just Apparates straight in without asking -- and they may say Malfoy has manners but I've never seen proof. Harry's polite about little things like that, though.

I told Hermione I'd get the door -- I wanted a few words with Malfoy before he saw her and Abigail. She just sighed. I swear she can read my mind sometimes.

Harry had his hand raised to press the bell again when I opened the door. Ginny was on his left and Malfoy on his right, both of them leaning up against his shoulders even though it was stinking hot out without Cooling Charms. They're like that, always touching, like they're screaming 'Mine mine mine!' all the time. Which is a horrible thing to say about my own sister, but Ginny's a little spoiled and she likes to get her way.

Sometimes I wonder why she hasn't killed Malfoy and found a way to blame it on me. That'd get Harry all to herself. Either she thinks she'd get caught, or she actually likes the bastard. I almost hope it's the first option -- if I didn't have Hermione and Abigail, I'd be happy to take the fall as long as Malfoy died -- but then, I already told you I wish I could strangle him with my bare hands.

"Hi, Ron!" said Harry. He shook off Ginny and Malfoy and hugged me. It really was too hot for that, so I pulled him inside. Ginny and Malfoy followed; Malfoy shut the door.

Then Ginny hugged me too, and told me I was a selfish git for not telling them which hospital we'd used so they could have an adventure taking the Underground to visit us. (The Underground is a Muggle thing where they dig tunnels and run trains in them. The trains work mostly by eckletricity. I thought this was because steam or petrol would get mucky underground, but Hermione says it's because eckletricity lets the trains go faster, and stop faster, and is more efficient. Also, yes, coal and petrol are a problem underground. So I was half right. One day, I'll get Muggle things all figured out.)

Anyway, I pried Ginny off and shoved her and Harry toward the living room and Hermione. Then I grabbed Malfoy's arm and dragged him into the kitchen. "Look," I told him, "you're here because Harry and Ginny want you. Hermione and I are trying to be polite, but there are limits. Don't even think about touching Abigail. And keep your mouth shut."

"As if I'd want to touch something you helped create," Malfoy sneered, and brushed at his sleeve where my hand had been. "This visit certainly wasn't my idea."

I'm still impressed I didn't punch him for calling my daughter a thing.

So I followed Malfoy into the living room -- wouldn't trust him at my back -- and Hermione had handed Abigail to Ginny. They'd gone all mushy over her, which made them look damn silly and sound like halfwits, but women seem to do that around babies. I felt a little mushy myself, inside, so I didn't say anything.

Then Ginny handed Abigail to Harry and cooed and flittered and said how good he looked with a baby -- which wasn't true; he was scared stiff and hardly breathing -- and wondered if maybe she...

Which was when Malfoy stepped forward and said, "There'd be an equal chance your spawn would be half mine, and I don't know that I want anything to do with the Weasley plan to breed themselves into control of wizarding Britain."

Hermione glared at me, so I still didn't punch him. And Ginny slapped him, so I let it go.

Harry laughed at Malfoy and handed Abigail back to Hermione -- she sat down in the rocker while Harry and Ginny sat on the sofa. I hauled the armchair over next to Hermione and let Abigail catch my finger while Hermione told Ginny about labor and how much it hurt, and how wonderful potions were compared to Muggle painkillers. I'd told her that, but Hermione still likes to check everything herself. It's one of the reasons I love her.

Don't tell her I said that.

After a while, I looked sideways over to where Malfoy was standing in the doorway, keeping my head down so he wouldn't notice I was watching. And...

Look, I hate him. I'll always hate him.

But I'd just seen that expression on his face in my own mirror -- a little awe, a little fear, a whole lot of mush -- and he was looking at Abigail like I used to look at Bill and Fleur's sons. Like maybe he wanted a daughter, and he couldn't think of anything that would be more amazing, and he didn't think he deserved that.

So when Ginny told me, yesterday, that she was going to have a baby and she thought it might probably be Malfoy's -- Harry was on a trip for most of the time in question -- I didn't go string the bastard up for what he did to my sister. Not yet.

I figure he gets one chance to screw up first.

Then I'll kill him.

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AN: Thanks for reading, and please review!