Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series. But, I do have a steadily nearing due date of a paper I really need to write.
Well, for the sake of getting this up quick, I'll keep the author note short this time. I have only a few things to say.
First off, thanks for the reviews! They mean the world to me!
Second, if you see another update from me before Monday, please review and yell at me. I should be working on a biology paper for my final. Oh the joys of procrastination and finals week.
And finally, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Read and be merry!
Without further ado:
Chapter 51
Ginny POV
The trauma that Draco had gone through became more evident as we made our way down the stairs. The long walk downstairs had him grimacing in pain. I knew there was very little I could do to relive it, so I just held his hand and hoped for the best. Maybe I should have just brought breakfast up to him. Was he going to be strong enough to face my family for the first time? Sure, he'd talked, or in Ron's case tormented, a few people but not the entire family as a whole.
Before we hit the landing that led down into the living room, where the sounds of my family could be heard, I stopped. "Draco, are you sure you want to do this?" I asked quietly, so as not to tip my family off to our presence. "You really should be resting. I can just bring some food up."
Looking down at me, Draco said, "I think you're more nervous about this than me." He gave me a smile and I could tell he only said that to calm me down. Funny how, even knowing that, I still felt my nervousness slack a bit. "It'll be fine, Ginny. We're going to have to do this eventually and maybe knowing it's so soon after my brush with death they'll go easy on me." He gave me a teasing smile and pulled me against him. "It'll be alright," he whispered in my ear.
Looking up at him, I gave a reluctant sigh. "You don't know my family," I said with a halfhearted smile. "Weak or no, Ron might tear you to shreds for what you said earlier and I'm sure Harry would lend a helping wand too."
All of a sudden Draco's face went dark. Confused, I reached up and traced the frown on his lips, looking questioningly at him. "Draco, what is it?" I asked in concern.
"You know the wand you found with me wasn't mine," he told me quietly, anger evident in his voice. "Saint Potter stole my wand a few months back when he showed up at Malfoy Manor in the arms of the a few stupid snatchers."
I gasped suddenly, realizing what he said was true. I'd known Harry was using a new wand; I'd walked in while he was showing Ron his broken wand at Shell Cottage. It hadn't occurred to me to look closely to see exactly what wand he was using now though. "How could he?" I asked in shock.
Well, thinking about it, it was an obvious conclusion. Draco was the enemy to him and there was nothing wrong with stealing your enemy's wand to replace your own in a time of war. I shook my head in anger. Draco wasn't the enemy though. "Surely if you talk to him he'll give it back, right?" I asked hopeful, knowing how devastating this must be for him. I couldn't bear the thought of losing my wand.
"Unspoken magical law says that he's in ownership of the wand now," Draco said, his voice flat, though anger for the boy downstairs simmering under the surface. But, as I looked upon Draco's face now, I saw more hurt than anger, though it took a trained eye to tell the difference.
"There's nothing to be done?" I asked, devastated. "Could he give it back? Relinquish ownership back to you?" My eyes pleaded with him to say there was a way, but in my heart I knew what he would say.
"If he did give it back, under magical law the ownership would transfer back to me but something tells me he won't hand it back willingly," Draco answer, anger and hurt in every line of his face.
I nodded in understanding. "Yeah, his wand is broken," I told him with a frown. "But surely you could work something out."
Draco shook his head, taking my hand back in his, walking towards the stairs. "We'll cross that bridge when it comes. I'll behave myself for now so long as he does," Draco said, dismissing the topic.
"Okay," I said with another frown, still trying to come up with a solution to this problem. Looking over at Draco, I could see him pushing all of his anger under the surface, the polite boy that needed to make a good impression on my family coming through. "Ready?" I asked, stopping at the top of the steps.
He looked over at me, a smile on his face. "Am I ready to face a large group of people that my future depends on them accepting me? Ready to face the family of the girl I love? What reason would I have not to be?" he asked teasingly.
I rolled my eyes and him and led the way down the stairs, a smile crossing my face.
Draco POV
Ginny grabbed my hand in her small one and led the way down the stairs and into the living room full of her family. Silence greeted our entrance, no more than I expected. In all honesty, I half expected curses to fly. Trying to make a good impression and look trusting, I left my new wand upstairs on the bedside table. It was best not to raise the questions about where it came from if anyone recognized it. It would be too long of a story to tell merely because of an accusation. I knew I'd have to relive the past months sooner or later though.
Ginny ignored the stairs and glares from her family and led me into what I could only assume was the kitchen. It was nothing like the Manor's kitchen, what with its rickety décor and abundance of clutter. There was also no distinction from the kitchen to the dining room. The overly long, worn out table sat in the middle of the kitchen floor. While nothing like the pristine and clean kitchen of the Manor, it had its own charm.
In the sink were a mass of dishes washing themselves, a simple spell I was sure but one I didn't know. Standing in front of the stove, flipping bacon, was Mrs. Weasley. She was as much unlike my mother as it was possible. While my mother was tall, thin and aristocratic, Mrs. Weasley was short, plump, and gave off an air of being motherly. With her bushy red hair, a trait only half inherited by Ginny, and robes that obviously came second hand, she was the kind of woman my mother would have a fit over.
My mother wasn't the kind of woman to accept strangers, no matter their background. She was almost as prejudice as my father when it came to blood status and whatnot. She wouldn't stand for this woman in front of me to even step foot in her home, let alone take in one of her children.
Mrs. Weasley, the woman I'd grown up as seeing a poor piece of trash that was good for nothing but popping out more trashy children that she couldn't afford, was nothing like what I was used to in a mother and she was nothing like what I'd seen her as for most my life. She was a caring woman who, out of the pure goodness of her heart, took in the son of her enemy and was not doing all she could to help him.
While defiantly not what I was used to, from the woman in front of the stove to the dishes in the cabinet and even to the food that was cooking, I somehow felt at home. But part of me, the part that was ground into me during my childhood, was horrified at where I was at. This was nothing like the Manor. There were no grand dining rooms, there were no quarters that were strictly my own. As of the night I ran from home, I didn't even have knut to my name. I was even wearing hand-me-down clothes for goodness sake! I was purely dependent of these people that for the majority of my life I hated.
The only way any of this could change was for the war to end, with the Order being the dominating side, and my father being killed or thrown into Azkaban. Only then would I inherit the Malfoy estate and fortune. And that was to say only if I wasn't thrown in alongside him. In the eyes of everyone on this side of the war almost, I was just like my father. I'd even killed, much to my personal torment and shame.
Just then, Mrs. Weasley turned around from where she'd been flipping bacon, pulling me from my thoughts. "Oh, there you two are," she said, a smile warming her face. "The bacon is almost ready and everything else is on the table. Ginny dear, get out three cups for the tea please." Turning back to the stove, I could hear the crackling of the bacon as she pushed it around a bit.
After letting go of my hand and motioning me to the table, Ginny strode to a worn wooden cabinet and opened it to revile an assortment of cups. Feeling out of place, I sat down at the long table near a loaf of fresh cooked bread.
"Mum makes amazing food," Ginny said as she came back over to the table, three mugs in hand. "I don't care how many house elves you had in that grand kitchen of yours, nothing you've ever had could compare." She beamed at her mother before pouring tea for each of us.
"She exaggerates," Mrs. Weasley said with a shake of her head as she transferred the bacon from the stove to the table. With a flick of her wand she sent the dirty frying pan into the sink with the rest of the dishes.
Ginny laughed and shook her head. "No, she's just too modest to admit it," she retorted, grinning at her mother. Seeing the easy banter between the two made me feel a little less like I was intruding.
"Oh, you just hush and eat your breakfast," Mrs. Weasley scolded her daughter, though the humor in her voice was evidence that she wasn't really mad. "And you," she said, point a finger at me. "I want to see you eat penalty of food. No prim and proper tiny bites in this house. Eat your fill."
I couldn't help but smile at that. Was she really mothering me? "Yes Ma'am," I agreed, spooning some eggs onto my plate after giving her a smile. This was unlike what I was used to. Back home, I didn't get my own food I was served. I didn't sit at a table in the kitchen drinking tea from a chipped old mug. I didn't dine among people of a lower status then me. But in this house, all of that was out the window as quick as a snitch could fly.
Over the years, I'd gotten a glimpse into Ginny's life occasionally. I'd known without asking that her life growing up had been much different than mine. But it was only with being here now that I realized how much different and in a way, how much better it was. I might have been born and raised with all the money I could ever need and the best of the best of everything, but Ginny's family had something better than money. They had love. Until I met Ginny, that was something I'd never known.
Clearing my thoughts with a sip of tea, I took my first bit of what Ginny said would be the best breakfast of my life. Okay, they had more than just love. They had amazing food. I looked over at Ginny, sure my eyebrows were in my hairline at this point. Her mother really was an amazing cook, and that was just a bit of a biscuit.
Ginny let out a laugh. "See, I told you it'd be the best meal of your life," she laughed.
Turning from her, I faced Mrs. Weasley. "Your daughter is right, Mrs. Weasley," I told her. "This food really is amazing."
"Oh, please just call me Molly," she said, brushing off the compliment. I silently noticed another difference between her and my mother. Mother loved compliments and basked in their glow. Mrs. Weasley, it would seem, would rather not even receive them.
Nodding, I turned back to my food. Ginny scarfed down her plateful of food quickly, obviously hungry from missing breakfast with her family earlier that morning. I too ate quite a bit of food. Having not had a proper meal in about two months, I was starving. I wasn't able to eat as much as I wanted though. My stomach as shrunk from lack of food.
After we were done eating, Mrs. Weasley, it felt disrespectful to call her by her first name even if she'd asked me to, moved the dishes to the sink to be washed and put away the leftovers. "Did you get enough to eat?" she asked, turning back to us.
I could tell the question was more to me than her daughter, who at the moment was reclining in her chair in near pain at such a full stomach. Stifling a laugh at her, I turned back her to her mum. "Yes, thank you," I replied.
"Good," she said, untying her apron that she'd not taken off after cooking. Putting it on a hook near the stove, she stopped at the table on her way into the living room. "I know our family can be a bit overwhelming at times," she said to me. "But, don't feel shunned by them. You're as welcome here as they are. Most of them will be going home soon anyway." She pat my shoulder, a completely unexpected gesture, before walking into the living room.
Turning back to Ginny, I saw a frown on her beautiful face. "What's wrong?" I asked her quietly, hoping not to be overheard from the living room.
She let out a sigh and scooted her chair closer to mine, leaning against my side. "When we go in there, you'll have to face them, all of them. I told them our story yesterday but I didn't know the entire thing. I still don't. I don't know what happened to you Draco and when we go in there, all of them will expect an explanation, especially my brothers. While my parents accepted you and Bill didn't pitch a fit, the rest of them still are weary of you. You'll have to earn their trust, that's the only way they'll accept you," she rambled, her voice getting faster with every passing word till it was almost a blur of unintelligible mumblings.
Putting a finger to her lips, I stopped her worried words. "Please, calm down Ginny," I whispered, pulling her to me. I didn't care that her entire family sat on the other side of the wall. All I cared about was comforting the girl I loved from the pain I caused. "Can we go for a walk?" I asked, pointing towards the door.
Looking up from where she'd laid her head on my chest, I could see her eyes filled with tears. Wiping them away, she nodded. "We'll have to stay in the yard though. Past that is where the protective spells cut off," she said softly, glancing at the doorway to the living room where her family surely await.
"Don't worry about them, Gin. You deserve to hear what happened first," I told her, taking her hand in mine and striding to the coatrack by the back door. To my utter surprise and happiness, on a rung on the rack sat the old, worn cloak I'd given her three years ago. "You still have this?" I questioned disbelievingly.
She took it off the rack and slipped it on, buckling it at her neck. "Of course," she said, almost shocked herself that I was surprised she still had it. "It's the best cloak I've ever owned." She turned her face towards the door, a blush staining her face. I knew she didn't like talking about money, or her lack thereof. I let the subject drop.
"Which one can I use?" I asked, pointing towards the rack. There was no way I could go outside without one.
"You can use Fred's," she said, pulling a nice one off the rack. "It'll be a bit too long I think but his and George's are the best quality of them all. It'll be the warmest." Slipping it onto my shoulders, she clasped it at my neck. I wasn't sure why, but she'd always like to do that, put my cloak on for me. My guess was it was her natural motherly instinct coming through.
I smiled at the thought of her being a mother, holding little redheaded babies with my aristocratic features. "What's that goofy grin for?" she asked as she added warming charms to both cloaks and our shoes.
Giving her a smile, I merely shook my head. "Oh, nothing," I told her. Grabbing her hand, I led her as quietly as possible out the back door. The warming charms were great but while inside they were a bit much. Once outside, I shut the door gingerly and looked around.
Ginny kept her silence as I took in the beauty of the countryside around me. It was nothing like the fast ground of the Manor with its manicured hedges and pristine laws, gardens at every corner. Instead, this snow covered landscape looked anything but tame. Even the bushes were obviously untrimmed, their thick blankets of snow unable to hide them completely.
The only other time I'd ever seen this house was when Voldemort gave the order for the Death Eaters to attack here on the day of the eldest Weasley son's wedding. At the time, I wasn't exactly taking in the scenery. From the snow covered yard and little frozen pond to the majestic forest stretching out below, this place was stunning. For such a tiny house built with such little money, they sure had good land.
"Pretty, huh?" Ginny finally said, pulling me from my thoughts. "Come on, Dad's shed is around back. It'll be warm in there. There's a permanent heating charm on it." Pulling me along the side of the house, we tromped though the snow till a small shed appeared, covered in snow.
I opened the door and usurer her in out of the freezing cold. Following her inside, I shut the door. Looking around I can honestly say that it didn't really surprise me to see walls and tables piled high with muggle gadgets. I looked over at Ginny to see her clearing a small workbench for us to sit on. "Let me help," I said, coming over and picking a heavy box up and sitting it to the side.
"Dad's got all sorts of things in here," she said, taking off her cloak and tossing it over a box. She kept talking as I did the same, tossing mine with hers. "He's been doing this since before Bill was even born. This shed has been full of his knickknacks for as long as I can remember." A quick flick of her wand cleared the dust from the bench. Hopping up on it, she patted the worn wooden surface next to her.
Looking cautiously at the rickety bench, I gingerly tested my weight on it before sitting down next to her. "Are you sure this won't fall apart?" I asked as I settled down.
"Of course not," Ginny answered. I wasn't sure if she meant of course it wouldn't fall or of course she wasn't sure. And, if I was honest with myself, I didn't really want to know. For the sake of my own sanity, I decided to go with she was sure it wouldn't fall. She gave me a grin, almost as if she knew what was going through my mind.
Pulling Ginny against me, I leaned back on the wall behind us. She let out a soft sigh as she settled herself against my chest. I could never get enough of holding her. She fit perfectly in my arms and it was a comfort to have her so near. After so long of not seeing her, after going through so much pain in our absence, it was good to feel at least a bit safe and have her in my arms again.
"It's a long story," I said quietly in her ear, my arms tightening around her as my mind flashed through everything that had happened. "A very long and painful story."
Did you enjoy it? I know it wasn't much, but at least I got it up! And the next chapter is the long awaited story behind Draco's disappearance. So, as you may have noticed, I've dropped several hits through the last few chapters as to what happened. Anyone want to take a stab at what happened? Well, anyone except the two of you that already know and better not ruin it for others (you know who you are!) Can't have that!
BJ was overjoyed with the number of reviews as I was I. Thank you all so much. Just reading them brings a smile to my face and joy to my heart. Keep it up! BJ and I enjoy them so much!
A happy author writes better and faster! So review and make me happy!
