Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.
Chapter 46
Ginny slept fitfully. Her nostrils flared at times and in her dreams, she found herself rubbing her nose over the nape of his neck or behind his ear or below his pointed chin. Her breath picked up as she continued to trail her fingertips over the expanse of his bare skin languidly enjoying his acute response. Over the roaring oceans and the screaming winds of a sea storm, his voice traveled and caressed her earlobes, "Red, kill me slowly."
She shot up from the floor and groaned. The distance between them did nothing to reduce his presence. This was nothing like having Tom Riddle taking in residence in her head. Malfoy was not just in her head, he was everywhere. His magic growled like a beast beside her own magical essence. She could feel her veins throb and her heartbeat, she could hear a lot more. Like those mites on the floorboard, or the flapping of those birds' wings over distant treetops. And more than anything, she was longing for his touch.
It confused her when she tried to think of Harry, instead, Draco's face emerged. Her mind was breathing like molten lava at the pit of a grunting volcano and within that fiery fluid crisscrossed by cracks and fissures, Draco's sad eyes kept staring at her longingly. She felt warm within. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't conjure up Harry's face. Heaving a sigh, she smiled in the evening air. The sun had gone down and the Burrow was quiet. What a relief! It was like a heavyweight was lifted off her heart and the dent left behind by unrecruited love healed up and stitched anew.
Those words that brought her back to her own room did not carry the feeling of despair. They had desire spread over every letter and syllable. He was craving her and she liked the feeling of being wanted so badly. It was a power she was wanting to relish. The attention that did not involve her downplaying herself. The pull of desire was acute and had a sweet flavor to it. For the umpteenth time, she pulled at her hair, frustrated by this growing need to see him, trace his face, touch his skin, and hold him close.
The distinct sound of clinking utensils caught her attention. Looking around, she realized her silencing spells must have faded away, while she slept on. On the stairs she found both George and Astoria creeping down. George had just motioned her to follow them. There were several muttering and cursing coming from the kitchen, and along with it the sound of the open tap and the lilt of music. Wands raised the three barged in.
Ginny exclaimed, unbelievingly," Dorsie! What the Hell?"
The house-elf just glanced at the three of them and then continued making dinner. Actually making a five-course dinner. Knives were chopping vegetables, whisks were swirling batter and the oven was roasting something. The elf muttered distastefully," Dorsie is serving her punishment. Dorsie was specifically asked by the master to serve the house of the Weasleys as long as Madam Malfoy resides here. And what does Dorise finds when she comes?! Everybody sleeping, tea not served, and the kitchen messy, dishes scrubbed unmindfully. And the pantry crying at her. Go away, Let Dorsie work in peace. Children. Stubborn master, won't like Dorsie to iron her ears, instead will live on sandwiches," waving a ladle with a bit of red sauce still stuck on it, she asked a befuddled George," Mr. Weasley, tell Dorsie, who can survive on sandwiches? just sandwiches? Master is not a muggle, the master is a wizard. A full-grown wizard. And he goes and gets, sauces, jams, and peanut butter. PEANUT BUTTER. Someone needs to knock some sense into Master. But no, now is too early. Even Professor Snape was about, so was The Minister, but Master is as stubborn as they come."
Ginny narrowed her eyes and asked," Snape and Shacklebolt visited the Red Villa?"
The elf had passionately relayed what all happened and then pointing towards the living room, shooed those three away with the stern words," Go there, Dorsie got presents and Madam Weasley, do accept Dorsie's services." When Astoria nodded and grimaced, looking at George briefly," Welcome, Dorsie," the motherly elf dismissed them saying," tea is on its way. And Dorsie's special shortbreads to accompany with it."
As the three settled around the burning fireplace, Astoria stared at George and then at Ginny. The brother and sister were ill at ease, even a child could tell that. Swallowing and wetting her lips she offered," An elf really does not go well with the Weasley kitchen." When the siblings snapped their heads at her and glared, she raised her arm in surrender and tried," Late Mrs. Weasley won't have…" Ginny had cut in tersely," What makes you think you know what our mother would have to say about an elf in our kitchen? YOU can't possibly imagine the amount of effort Dad and she had put in to bring up all of us."
George, on the other hand, stared hard at his wife and waited for Gin to calm down. Once the sister leaned back on her chair and folded her hands over her chest, he spoke," Gin, Dad had taught us to consider all sides and then decide, and we will be doing just that, Madam Weasley, why do you think so?" Astoria felt a chill run over her. This was not the husband she had made love to twice only two floors above, neither was it the man who held her close to himself while she cried again and again for her parents and her sister. Squaring her shoulders and folding her hands on her lap, she replied politely," It is not about affordability or about status, neither it is about honoring the dead and nor it is about bowing to Draco's extended courtesy. It is about the integrity that comes with the name Weasley. And it is just the three of us, tomorrow or the day after, the others will join us. It is not right for us to sit back and do nothing when we can join hands to make this place alive once again."
Ginny and George shared a look but looked interested as both of them nodded at her, mutely asking her to go on. She smiled in relief," I found some recipe books and cookbooks tucked in the kitchen. I can't really cook much, but I can learn and if I can have help then...what I am trying to say is...we can either share the work that goes into keeping the house or we can mop, sulk and cry all by ourselves behind doors."
Gin tilted her head sideways and curled her lips," You want us to work... actually do constructive things and not idle our time," turning her head at George she arched her eyebrow, questioningly. But the brother simply rose and muttered," I better floo call and ask about Bill and Fleur. In the meantime, why don't you both get through these…" The women had levitated the piles of wrapped up boxes and carried them to the kitchen, giving the man some privacy. He watched his wife help his sister to arrange those boxes and pondered. Astoria's point was relevant. She was one level headed witch, but she was as lonely as he was. Her straightforwardness didn't hurt his ego, instead of in one way or the other it showed the amount of respect she had for his family and him.
He wondered if it must be the bond, but then he knew hardly anything about it. If there was a way in which he could speak to Professor McGonagall or Minister Shacklebolt...Poppy Pomphrey didn't know much about the bond. She had been nursing Bill and Fleur at the Mungo's. When the Burrow seemed too claustrophobic, he would seek her company.
Poppy had just returned to her chambers when her fireplace roared and the familiar face of George Weasley popped out of the flames. Her heart lurched when the man gave her a sad smile and she smiled back waving her hand, asking him to step inside. George had blushed the moment he sat down and gushed," Well, you are looking at a married man now." Poppy quirked her eyebrow and retorted," So I have heard. Several of you are married men by the end of this day. I think we can toast on that. Would you like to come and see your brother and sister in law first?"
He had hurriedly replied," No, I mean, I need to talk to you. Can we talk first?"
Poppy nodded. The man in front of her looked fresh. As if, he was finally ready to shred that horribly depressing shell of self-loathing he had built around himself after his twin's death. He looked back at her with sparkling eyes and muttered," Astoria is exquisite. I don't know why I want to say this to you of all the people!"
The medi-witch crackled and her face broke into several creases. She huffed," Of course you do, Georgie! I am your Mother Goose." The young man chuckled at that and settled into retelling the events of the past two days. The older woman watched him speak, noticing the subtle signs of metal recovery. It was going to be a long way, but Minerva and Kingsley had managed to do the impossible. When Molly was pregnant with the twins she had sorted the medi-witch out and insisted she becomes the godmother, saying," I just know, these two would need you the most. I just know you know."
Charles and William were boisterous and inquisitive young men. They came with bruises that either spoke of unfortunate incidents with the Magical creatures or a quidditch tumble. And she could hardly remember being visited by Percy Weasley apart from those rare occasions when he needed mild headache or eye ache potions. And those would go away, as soon as his glasses got corrected after a quick visit to the optic healer.
But the twins had been the heart of the hospital wing. A week into their first year, Poppy had found herself repeating the words," Now, what?" for the sixth time at a row and later in the weekend when Snape had joined her to help in restocking the potion cabinet, the man had wondered aloud," Never thought the Weasleys would have a perfect infusion of Brains and Bravado." It was many of the first times that the dour man had begun enjoying teaching. The twins had piqued his interest. They had made the other houses wary of the Gryffindors as well. The Slytherins chose not to pick at the rivals, they had begun to plot and plan. The Hufflepuffs stayed clear and the Ravenclaws had drawn back their beaks and claws after their star students were tackled both in chess and in 'intellectual spearing', well that was at least what Fred and George called it.
At the end of his tale, the godmother had clasped his hands tightly and made him promise to her he would not let this opportunity slip away. George shrugged his shoulders," I don't know how to act around her, she keeps surprising me. She thinks before she says anything, she can be wild and docile. She can be considerate as well." He dropped his voice," She is like Fred, and then she is not Fred, she is…"
Poppy squeezed his hand and assured," Mrs. Astoria Weasley sounds like a level headed woman. Georgie, don't push her away. Don't drink yourself to misery. You are a smart man. Pick yourself up. For Ginny, Bill, and Charles. I know, it sounds strange, But both Bill and Charles depended on Aurthur for mental support. They would lean on his shoulders each time they found themselves clueless and lost. Yes, Percy was always on his own. And Ron would just manage to squeeze his way in. But now things have changed. It is not expected of any of you to become the head of the house, but you can share that weight among the three of you. I think Astoria was wanting to say that. The Greengrass sisters were always diplomatic in their ways. But I think there was always a noble face hidden behind their stoic masks. I don't think she has any hidden motive other than making the Weasleys accept her for who she is. I also think you need to visit Draco Malfoy and talk about the house-elf thing. It will make things easy and give the man a way to reach out. Snape is beyond himself. Malfoy seems to have taken the hardest of the blows and he has chosen solitude instead of a company. Watch out for Ginny and subtly make her acknowledge this marriage to start with. I am saying this to you, because, George, I am certain you can fix this family from inside."
The man had excused himself in time, having learned that it would be yet another week before Bill and Fleur would be fit to return home. Dorsie had simply rolled her eyes at him as she placed the tea service, complete with warm shortbreads and muffins. As Ginny went back to her room in the pretext of arranging the several dresses Malfoy had sent, the husband had a quiet discussion with his wife about the house-elf issue. Astoria had baffled him again by informing, it was best to let Ginny and Draco decide, but they could work as a liaison if those stubborn heads still stuck to their points of not sorting each other out.
A/N: Scars don't heal in a day, but with magic and soulmates coming together, things can work faster...share your thoughts...would mean a lot to me.