Authors note: Stuff belongs to J.K. Rowling. Props to my reviewers (200+ hugs all around) and to Bear, who took me for Persian today, not that it influenced the story in anyway... Sorry 'bout the delay on this, hope it's length makes up for that, in part. GO JOIN THE E-GROUP! http://groups.yahoo.com/group/WAiSaD
"Would you like to order, sir?"
Harry looked over at Hermione who was calmly sipping her herbal tea. "Maybe-"
"Maybe that question should have been directed towards me," Hermione pointedly told the waiter. "Which part of 'waiting for the rest of our party," don't you understand, Tim?"
"My name is Jim..."
"Perhaps she prefers Tim," McGonagall said. "And why, exactly, Tim, am I seeing the bottom of my 'bottomless saucer of milk?'" The waiter shifted nervously. "Perhaps you were to busy to enchant it? Well, I can assure you I'm never too busy to take this sort of thing up with the management."
The red-faced man scurried off with the saucer, presumably to find another whose charm was in working order. The cat turned about in circles a few times before folding her paws onto the table. "James Brody, Class of ought-two. Once tried to pass off a button as a transfigured knut on an exam. If I recall correctly, his charming was even worse."
"I wonder why we don't do this more often," Harry said dryly.
"Because the two of you usually feel comfortable asking Ginny about her personal life," the cat observed. "Unfortunately for you. I'm not going to say anything."
"You could have told us that before we offered to buy brunch," Harry grumbled.
"But that would have defeated the purpose of free brunch entirely. Here comes Ron."
"'lo." Ron dropped into a chair looking winded. The top button of his robes was undone. A lock of wet hair was falling into his eyes, and it appeared as if he hadn't used a razor. "Glin isn't here yet?"
"No, she's late, too," Hermione said, eyeing him cautiously. "We could have waited a few minutes, Ron."
"Nah, no reason for it."
Seconds later, Glin sauntered coolly over to the table. "Sorry about the delay. Carlos came over this morning, sobbing over his latest breakup. I got him to do my highlights and take a bit off the top, so it was probably worth it." She ruffled her short silky hair, which now sported mauve highlights. Presumably, the highlights were to accent her current ensemble, a set of mauve robes loosely crocheted. As per her usual derring-do, it appeared she was wearing nothing underneath. Complementing the outfit were mauve ballet slippers, their ribbons braided up Glin's legs to her upper thighs, where the robes ended. Overall, the effort was rather whimsical, if not entirely decent.
Achieving the near impossible, Ron was looking daggers at her and simultaneously being smug. "'A bit off the top?" That's a euphemism, isn't it? Doesn't matter. Your diddling about with Carl made you late, and I was ready first. I win," He concluded triumphantly.
Hermione, Harry and McGonagall looked at Ron in surprise. Glin rolled her eyes and looked annoyed. "I hardly call wet hair and an unshaven chin 'ready,' Ron. But if you like, I'll admit that you arrived here first. And Carlos is my hair-warlock, so stop blathering on like an idiot.
The remainder of breakfast was spent listening to Ron be much more petty than usual towards Glin. For her part, Glin treated Ron with the same indifference she always had. This seemed only to infuriate Ron more, and by the time the check arrived, bets were being placed on who would storm out in a huff.
It was Ron. In all actuality, it was always Ron.
He threw a few galleons on the table and stalked out the door. Quite frankly, he'd been more than a little put off by Glin's behavior. She'd seduced him, and now she was acting as if nothing had happened at all. Well, two could play at that game. He'd just pretend he hadn't noticed her hemline or the open weave of her robes... or Carl.
Draco was still lost in the blur of familial bliss Ginny had brought with her. She was playing house with Marigold in the corner as he finished his coffee. Marigold was putting one of her dolls to bed and explaining to Ginny proper bedtime routine.
"You'll see it again when I put her to bed for real tonight, Aunt Ginny. Then we can have another slumber party."
"Maybe you can show me another time," Ginny hedged.
"Why?"
"Well, I'll have to stay at my own flat tonight. I've got to work tomorrow."
"But why can't you stay? You've got to keep the monsters away!" Marigold's voice rose to a wail.
Ginny looked at Draco helplessly. "Your father will be here, can't he make them go away? Perhaps the two of you could-"
"Only you," the little girl said through tears as she latched her arms around Ginny's neck.
Ginny rubber Marigold's back, comforting her as best she could. Draco was kneeling beside them now, his hand on Ginny's shoulder. Marigold began to sniffle and her tears began to dissipate. Draco extricated her from Ginny's arms and carried her to the bed.
"Why don't you take a little nap while I talk with Aunt Ginny." Draco suggested. The tired child buried her face in the pillows as Draco led Ginny into the hall. Once they were out of Marigold's hearing range, he began to chastise her. "What exactly did you mean by that?"
"Well, I can't very well stay here every night, can I? People would find out and..."
"And you don't want to be linked to a man like me, is that it?"
"Let's be realistic here. Regardless of who you are, it doesn't look very good for the Minister of Magic to be diddling about with someone who I've never even dated. Think what my mum would say!"
"Did you really need to send Marigold into hysterics over it?"
"How in the bloody hell was I to expect she'd do that? You won't tell me what's wrong with her!"
"Nothing is wrong with her," he retorted fiercely.
"Well something's wrong. Either with her or with you. I can't be reasonably expected to pussyfoot around the issue any longer."
"You're what's wrong," he raged. "You waltz in here and you change everything-"
"Oh save it," she cut him off. "You've been saying from the beginning that it was just sex."
"So it's all right for you to say it, but when I say it I'm an insensitive bastard?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Really Draco, are you being deliberately daft? I'm not saying it wasn't fantastic or that I don't care for you. I'm just saying that the two of us making love doesn't change the whole world. Sex isn't some fairytale panacea to be thrown about whenever someone has a toothache or Armageddon threatens. Yes, I'd like to have more than just sex with you. I want to wake up in your arms every morning and eat French toast with your daughter, and grow old with you, but it can't happen in one night!" Ginny was screaming, and tears were streaming down her face. "Now for fuck's sake, tell me what's wrong!
"You can't help with it, Ginny."
"That doesn't mean I can't know about it, that it has to be held over my head constantly like the sword of Damocles. What on earth can I do to make you trust me?"
She was crying full force, and Draco's resistance crumbled. "Fine. We'll discuss if over dinner. Then you can tuck Marigold in and return to your flat."
"I need to pick up a few things from home, change my clothes and what not," she told him. "I'll be back for dinner."
"Six-thirty. Don't be late, Virginia. I'm already having second thoughts and waiting around isn't going to help things."
Stomping up the stairs to his loft, Ron felt his heart give an irregular beat. Perhaps it was something fatal. Glumly, he admitted to himself that it was nothing more than over-exertion. He was getting old. He'd walked all the way from the cafe, hoping to blow off some steam.
It hadn't worked. He'd spent the walk thinking of inventive ways for Glin to be killed. It worked fairly well for awhile, until Glin had been eaten by a dragon. Unfortunately, that particular fantasy had morphed into him saving Glin from the dragon. Future daydreams played out in much the same fashion. Princess Glin had to be saved from an evil count. A green-hued Glin needed only one kiss to restore her beauty. Glin, almost dying from a monkey disease until his love cured her. Then he'd gotten angry at himself, and punched a wall, resulting in a rather unpleasant set of scrapes. With a scowl, he flung open the door to his flat.
Glin was lounging on one of his armchairs, her long legs hitched over one arm while her head rested on the other. "I thought we were going to pretend nothing had happened."
"How could I when you were nattering on about 'Carl this' and 'Carl that.' Just because we aren't having anything but sex doesn't mean I want you diddling about with some Carl."
Glin rolled her eyes and removed herself from the chair. She kept walking towards him until he was pushed up against the wall. She then took to poking him with one perfectly manicured mauve nail. "His name is Carlos, and if you want me to stop seeing him you'd better do something about it."
"Maybe I will," Ron retorted as he captured her mouth in a fiery kiss.
An hour later, Ron rolled off her. They were on top of the piano, and a vase he assumed was very expensive was lying on his carpet in pieces. "So, have you forgotten Carl?"
"Carlos," she said in a sing-song voice. "And he's a hair-warlock. Not to perpetuate the stereotype, but he's gay."
"What?"
"Homosexual. A pouf, as you British might say. Enjoys the company of other men... Any of this ringing a bell?"
"Then why not just say that in the first place?"
"Why would I? It's not something that comes up in normal conversation. 'I got my highlights done by Carlos, who incidentally, is gay as the day is long.' Besides, seeing you get all animalistic wasn't exactly a bad thing. Besides, I'll have to date someone eventually. I can't show up to every social event with my arm noticeably empty."
"You'd better get someone very ugly then."
"That'd be a blow to my own social status. But I don't have to sleep with them. It's not like I sleep with anyone to whom I'm mildly attracted. Besides, I wouldn't have sex with one of them when I'm having a sex thing with you. I'm not that kind of girl."
"So, I'm you're number one?"
Glin rolled over on top of him. "I prefer the term 'alpha male.'" She bit his lower lip. "And yes, you are."
Knocking cautiously, Harry and Hermione waited from some sign of life withing Ginny's flat. After a good five minutes of the incessant knocking, Ginny let them in.
"'Orry," she said through a mouth of toothpaste foam.
"No problem. Only stopped by to drop of Minnie," Hermione told her.
"And to see if you'd returned from the manor," McGonagall provided dryly. "Really, their excuses are flimsy as cheese cloth."
Ginny blushed but offered no explanation. "Tea? Coffee?"
"Cup of peppermint for both of us," Hermione requested. "We're trying to control our caffeine intake."
"Right." Ginny stepped into the kitchen, where a note taped to the cupboard read "taken McGonagall to brunch, H&H." "How was brunch, then?"
"The food was barely tolerable, the company even less so," the cat replied.
"She's right. The yolks on my eggs were hard, and Ron was acting peculiar," Harry said.
"How so?" Asked Ginny, who was really only mildly interested in her brothers mood.
"Well, he wasn't catty to Glin, he was openly hostile," Hermione observed. "The dynamics between the two of them were off somehow. Perhaps something happened the other night."
"They shagged," McGonagall said in conclusion.
"You say that about everyone, Minnie," Ginny discredited the cat.
"Yes, but the odds are I'll eventually be right."
Ginny stepped through the fireplace, and into Draco's study. Due to indecisiveness about what to wear, she'd very nearly been late. Simple brown robes which were neither too dressy, nor to casual had eventually been decided up.
A small table and two chairs had been set up in the study. Presumably at which they would be eating dinner. Draco was setting two plates of food in front of the chairs, next to wineglasses and a bottle of Chablis.
"What're we having?"
"Jujeh Korescht on saffron rice," he told her. "It's persian." He proceeded to make small adjustments to the table until she pulled him down onto the couch.
"I know you're nervous," she said quietly as she looked into his eyes. "Just tell me now, and we'll eat later."
He nodded and began.
"I was a Death Eater, or very near being one, anyway. I hadn't been marked yet. I kept avoiding it. I'd like to say it was because I knew I was doing something wrong, but it wasn't. I didn't like the idea of unnecessary pain, at least not where I was involved. I tortured muggles and intimidated people and I didn't really see anything wrong with it at all."
"But you've changed," Ginny insisted.
"I'm not through yet, Gin. Marigold was born. My father was disappointed that she wasn't a boy, a suitable heir. I ignored him. Marigold was so tiny and perfect and I absolutely adored her. I did all of the things a new father does. I bought here presents, I spent hours just watching her sleep. Two years passed and my family grew impatient. I was spending less time with the Death Eaters, spending less time with Pansy. I still hadn't pledged allegiance to the Dark Lord. To top it all off, Marigold had shown absolutely no signs of being a magical child. There were no floating objects, no unexplained phenomenon when she became fussy. Nothing."
"Some children are late bloomers," Ginny interjected.
"Father had another one of his parties. My dinner disagreed with me and I retired to my room for awhile. I awoke to Marigold's crying. It was so loud it rang through the whole house. I found them in the study. They were drunk, as they'd been when they'd killed the first batch of house elves. Marigold was on the floor, writhing in pain and they were chanting 'squib' at her as they took turns using the Cruciatus Curse on her. I stupefied some of them, the others were done with their fun anyway. We escaped, but when I tried to heal some of the minor injuries, she screamed. She screamed over and over until I put the wand away. The mere sight of a wand sent her into hysterics. I took her to a muggle hospital, and they told me she'd probably die within the night. They said the majority of her bones were broken, and there was extensive liver and kidney damage. She didn't die, just held on by a thread for months. The Death Eaters began to search the muggle world for the two of us, and it became imperative I find some way to keep us hidden, while in plain sight. I searched spell books for weeks until an anonymous letter suggested a Secret-Keeper. The only problem was I had no one to trust. Neville was the last person they would have expected. I'd tormented him through Hogwarts. I thought he might understand because of his parents. After seeing Marigold, he agreed." His cheeks were wet with tears. "Sometimes I dream about it. I see her little body splayed on the rug, her limbs bent at unnatural angles, purple bruises mottling her pale skin. I hear her screams. When she wakes up from her nightmares her eyes are black for a few moments and I know she's seeing it, too." He was staring into the fireplace, turned away from her. "And I dream of Neville, dying for two people who weren't even really living anymore."
Silence enveloped the room. Ginny didn't know what to say, or what to do. What exactly is the protocol for responding to a story like that. Draco was crying full throttle now, little sobs moving his stiff form. Placing her hands on either side of his face, she forced him to look at her. "You did more than anyone could have expected you to. You're a good father." She wrapped her arms about him and let here own tears come. She whispered in his ear, "you're very much alive to me."
When they were both cried out, they attempted to eat dinner. Neither of them had much of an appetite, and it was getting late, so they climbed the stairs and wandered down the hallway to Marigold's room. A plump brunette was folding back the bedclothes.
"We'll take it from here, Amelia." The plump woman beat a hasty retreat, and Marigold looked up from the corner where she was putting her dolls to bed. "Are you staying, Aunt Ginny?"
"I'm afraid I can't." Ginny told her before quickly adding, "But I've brought along a very dear friend to stay with you." She reached into the satchel she'd brought along and pulled out a well worn stuffed animal. "His name is Warren, and he's very shy, so you'll have to introduce yourself."
"Will he keep the nightmares away?" The child asked skeptically.
"He's very good at that. He's a raccoon, so he can see in the dark, too. After I have a nightmare, I just cuddle Warren a bit and it makes me feel better."
"I guess I could try," Marigold said grudgingly as she climbed into bed.
Ginny kissed the child and the raccoon on the nose. "G'night Marigold. Take care of her Warren."
As they left, Ginny could hear the little girl chattering happily to the stuffed animal.
Draco led her back to the study's fireplace. "I guess this is goodbye."
Ginny smiled softly. "Not goodbye, just goodnight. Come for dinner on Wednesday."
"I'll ask Amelia to stay late. Drop by if you're feeling lonely between now and Wednesday."
"And why, exactly, would I do that, Draco?" Ginny teased.
"Because I think I'm falling in love with you, Virginia," he replied before kissing her. Somehow, he had a way of kissing her that could make her incredibly drowsy, but more alive than ever.
"Would you like to order, sir?"
Harry looked over at Hermione who was calmly sipping her herbal tea. "Maybe-"
"Maybe that question should have been directed towards me," Hermione pointedly told the waiter. "Which part of 'waiting for the rest of our party," don't you understand, Tim?"
"My name is Jim..."
"Perhaps she prefers Tim," McGonagall said. "And why, exactly, Tim, am I seeing the bottom of my 'bottomless saucer of milk?'" The waiter shifted nervously. "Perhaps you were to busy to enchant it? Well, I can assure you I'm never too busy to take this sort of thing up with the management."
The red-faced man scurried off with the saucer, presumably to find another whose charm was in working order. The cat turned about in circles a few times before folding her paws onto the table. "James Brody, Class of ought-two. Once tried to pass off a button as a transfigured knut on an exam. If I recall correctly, his charming was even worse."
"I wonder why we don't do this more often," Harry said dryly.
"Because the two of you usually feel comfortable asking Ginny about her personal life," the cat observed. "Unfortunately for you. I'm not going to say anything."
"You could have told us that before we offered to buy brunch," Harry grumbled.
"But that would have defeated the purpose of free brunch entirely. Here comes Ron."
"'lo." Ron dropped into a chair looking winded. The top button of his robes was undone. A lock of wet hair was falling into his eyes, and it appeared as if he hadn't used a razor. "Glin isn't here yet?"
"No, she's late, too," Hermione said, eyeing him cautiously. "We could have waited a few minutes, Ron."
"Nah, no reason for it."
Seconds later, Glin sauntered coolly over to the table. "Sorry about the delay. Carlos came over this morning, sobbing over his latest breakup. I got him to do my highlights and take a bit off the top, so it was probably worth it." She ruffled her short silky hair, which now sported mauve highlights. Presumably, the highlights were to accent her current ensemble, a set of mauve robes loosely crocheted. As per her usual derring-do, it appeared she was wearing nothing underneath. Complementing the outfit were mauve ballet slippers, their ribbons braided up Glin's legs to her upper thighs, where the robes ended. Overall, the effort was rather whimsical, if not entirely decent.
Achieving the near impossible, Ron was looking daggers at her and simultaneously being smug. "'A bit off the top?" That's a euphemism, isn't it? Doesn't matter. Your diddling about with Carl made you late, and I was ready first. I win," He concluded triumphantly.
Hermione, Harry and McGonagall looked at Ron in surprise. Glin rolled her eyes and looked annoyed. "I hardly call wet hair and an unshaven chin 'ready,' Ron. But if you like, I'll admit that you arrived here first. And Carlos is my hair-warlock, so stop blathering on like an idiot.
The remainder of breakfast was spent listening to Ron be much more petty than usual towards Glin. For her part, Glin treated Ron with the same indifference she always had. This seemed only to infuriate Ron more, and by the time the check arrived, bets were being placed on who would storm out in a huff.
It was Ron. In all actuality, it was always Ron.
He threw a few galleons on the table and stalked out the door. Quite frankly, he'd been more than a little put off by Glin's behavior. She'd seduced him, and now she was acting as if nothing had happened at all. Well, two could play at that game. He'd just pretend he hadn't noticed her hemline or the open weave of her robes... or Carl.
Draco was still lost in the blur of familial bliss Ginny had brought with her. She was playing house with Marigold in the corner as he finished his coffee. Marigold was putting one of her dolls to bed and explaining to Ginny proper bedtime routine.
"You'll see it again when I put her to bed for real tonight, Aunt Ginny. Then we can have another slumber party."
"Maybe you can show me another time," Ginny hedged.
"Why?"
"Well, I'll have to stay at my own flat tonight. I've got to work tomorrow."
"But why can't you stay? You've got to keep the monsters away!" Marigold's voice rose to a wail.
Ginny looked at Draco helplessly. "Your father will be here, can't he make them go away? Perhaps the two of you could-"
"Only you," the little girl said through tears as she latched her arms around Ginny's neck.
Ginny rubber Marigold's back, comforting her as best she could. Draco was kneeling beside them now, his hand on Ginny's shoulder. Marigold began to sniffle and her tears began to dissipate. Draco extricated her from Ginny's arms and carried her to the bed.
"Why don't you take a little nap while I talk with Aunt Ginny." Draco suggested. The tired child buried her face in the pillows as Draco led Ginny into the hall. Once they were out of Marigold's hearing range, he began to chastise her. "What exactly did you mean by that?"
"Well, I can't very well stay here every night, can I? People would find out and..."
"And you don't want to be linked to a man like me, is that it?"
"Let's be realistic here. Regardless of who you are, it doesn't look very good for the Minister of Magic to be diddling about with someone who I've never even dated. Think what my mum would say!"
"Did you really need to send Marigold into hysterics over it?"
"How in the bloody hell was I to expect she'd do that? You won't tell me what's wrong with her!"
"Nothing is wrong with her," he retorted fiercely.
"Well something's wrong. Either with her or with you. I can't be reasonably expected to pussyfoot around the issue any longer."
"You're what's wrong," he raged. "You waltz in here and you change everything-"
"Oh save it," she cut him off. "You've been saying from the beginning that it was just sex."
"So it's all right for you to say it, but when I say it I'm an insensitive bastard?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Really Draco, are you being deliberately daft? I'm not saying it wasn't fantastic or that I don't care for you. I'm just saying that the two of us making love doesn't change the whole world. Sex isn't some fairytale panacea to be thrown about whenever someone has a toothache or Armageddon threatens. Yes, I'd like to have more than just sex with you. I want to wake up in your arms every morning and eat French toast with your daughter, and grow old with you, but it can't happen in one night!" Ginny was screaming, and tears were streaming down her face. "Now for fuck's sake, tell me what's wrong!
"You can't help with it, Ginny."
"That doesn't mean I can't know about it, that it has to be held over my head constantly like the sword of Damocles. What on earth can I do to make you trust me?"
She was crying full force, and Draco's resistance crumbled. "Fine. We'll discuss if over dinner. Then you can tuck Marigold in and return to your flat."
"I need to pick up a few things from home, change my clothes and what not," she told him. "I'll be back for dinner."
"Six-thirty. Don't be late, Virginia. I'm already having second thoughts and waiting around isn't going to help things."
Stomping up the stairs to his loft, Ron felt his heart give an irregular beat. Perhaps it was something fatal. Glumly, he admitted to himself that it was nothing more than over-exertion. He was getting old. He'd walked all the way from the cafe, hoping to blow off some steam.
It hadn't worked. He'd spent the walk thinking of inventive ways for Glin to be killed. It worked fairly well for awhile, until Glin had been eaten by a dragon. Unfortunately, that particular fantasy had morphed into him saving Glin from the dragon. Future daydreams played out in much the same fashion. Princess Glin had to be saved from an evil count. A green-hued Glin needed only one kiss to restore her beauty. Glin, almost dying from a monkey disease until his love cured her. Then he'd gotten angry at himself, and punched a wall, resulting in a rather unpleasant set of scrapes. With a scowl, he flung open the door to his flat.
Glin was lounging on one of his armchairs, her long legs hitched over one arm while her head rested on the other. "I thought we were going to pretend nothing had happened."
"How could I when you were nattering on about 'Carl this' and 'Carl that.' Just because we aren't having anything but sex doesn't mean I want you diddling about with some Carl."
Glin rolled her eyes and removed herself from the chair. She kept walking towards him until he was pushed up against the wall. She then took to poking him with one perfectly manicured mauve nail. "His name is Carlos, and if you want me to stop seeing him you'd better do something about it."
"Maybe I will," Ron retorted as he captured her mouth in a fiery kiss.
An hour later, Ron rolled off her. They were on top of the piano, and a vase he assumed was very expensive was lying on his carpet in pieces. "So, have you forgotten Carl?"
"Carlos," she said in a sing-song voice. "And he's a hair-warlock. Not to perpetuate the stereotype, but he's gay."
"What?"
"Homosexual. A pouf, as you British might say. Enjoys the company of other men... Any of this ringing a bell?"
"Then why not just say that in the first place?"
"Why would I? It's not something that comes up in normal conversation. 'I got my highlights done by Carlos, who incidentally, is gay as the day is long.' Besides, seeing you get all animalistic wasn't exactly a bad thing. Besides, I'll have to date someone eventually. I can't show up to every social event with my arm noticeably empty."
"You'd better get someone very ugly then."
"That'd be a blow to my own social status. But I don't have to sleep with them. It's not like I sleep with anyone to whom I'm mildly attracted. Besides, I wouldn't have sex with one of them when I'm having a sex thing with you. I'm not that kind of girl."
"So, I'm you're number one?"
Glin rolled over on top of him. "I prefer the term 'alpha male.'" She bit his lower lip. "And yes, you are."
Knocking cautiously, Harry and Hermione waited from some sign of life withing Ginny's flat. After a good five minutes of the incessant knocking, Ginny let them in.
"'Orry," she said through a mouth of toothpaste foam.
"No problem. Only stopped by to drop of Minnie," Hermione told her.
"And to see if you'd returned from the manor," McGonagall provided dryly. "Really, their excuses are flimsy as cheese cloth."
Ginny blushed but offered no explanation. "Tea? Coffee?"
"Cup of peppermint for both of us," Hermione requested. "We're trying to control our caffeine intake."
"Right." Ginny stepped into the kitchen, where a note taped to the cupboard read "taken McGonagall to brunch, H&H." "How was brunch, then?"
"The food was barely tolerable, the company even less so," the cat replied.
"She's right. The yolks on my eggs were hard, and Ron was acting peculiar," Harry said.
"How so?" Asked Ginny, who was really only mildly interested in her brothers mood.
"Well, he wasn't catty to Glin, he was openly hostile," Hermione observed. "The dynamics between the two of them were off somehow. Perhaps something happened the other night."
"They shagged," McGonagall said in conclusion.
"You say that about everyone, Minnie," Ginny discredited the cat.
"Yes, but the odds are I'll eventually be right."
Ginny stepped through the fireplace, and into Draco's study. Due to indecisiveness about what to wear, she'd very nearly been late. Simple brown robes which were neither too dressy, nor to casual had eventually been decided up.
A small table and two chairs had been set up in the study. Presumably at which they would be eating dinner. Draco was setting two plates of food in front of the chairs, next to wineglasses and a bottle of Chablis.
"What're we having?"
"Jujeh Korescht on saffron rice," he told her. "It's persian." He proceeded to make small adjustments to the table until she pulled him down onto the couch.
"I know you're nervous," she said quietly as she looked into his eyes. "Just tell me now, and we'll eat later."
He nodded and began.
"I was a Death Eater, or very near being one, anyway. I hadn't been marked yet. I kept avoiding it. I'd like to say it was because I knew I was doing something wrong, but it wasn't. I didn't like the idea of unnecessary pain, at least not where I was involved. I tortured muggles and intimidated people and I didn't really see anything wrong with it at all."
"But you've changed," Ginny insisted.
"I'm not through yet, Gin. Marigold was born. My father was disappointed that she wasn't a boy, a suitable heir. I ignored him. Marigold was so tiny and perfect and I absolutely adored her. I did all of the things a new father does. I bought here presents, I spent hours just watching her sleep. Two years passed and my family grew impatient. I was spending less time with the Death Eaters, spending less time with Pansy. I still hadn't pledged allegiance to the Dark Lord. To top it all off, Marigold had shown absolutely no signs of being a magical child. There were no floating objects, no unexplained phenomenon when she became fussy. Nothing."
"Some children are late bloomers," Ginny interjected.
"Father had another one of his parties. My dinner disagreed with me and I retired to my room for awhile. I awoke to Marigold's crying. It was so loud it rang through the whole house. I found them in the study. They were drunk, as they'd been when they'd killed the first batch of house elves. Marigold was on the floor, writhing in pain and they were chanting 'squib' at her as they took turns using the Cruciatus Curse on her. I stupefied some of them, the others were done with their fun anyway. We escaped, but when I tried to heal some of the minor injuries, she screamed. She screamed over and over until I put the wand away. The mere sight of a wand sent her into hysterics. I took her to a muggle hospital, and they told me she'd probably die within the night. They said the majority of her bones were broken, and there was extensive liver and kidney damage. She didn't die, just held on by a thread for months. The Death Eaters began to search the muggle world for the two of us, and it became imperative I find some way to keep us hidden, while in plain sight. I searched spell books for weeks until an anonymous letter suggested a Secret-Keeper. The only problem was I had no one to trust. Neville was the last person they would have expected. I'd tormented him through Hogwarts. I thought he might understand because of his parents. After seeing Marigold, he agreed." His cheeks were wet with tears. "Sometimes I dream about it. I see her little body splayed on the rug, her limbs bent at unnatural angles, purple bruises mottling her pale skin. I hear her screams. When she wakes up from her nightmares her eyes are black for a few moments and I know she's seeing it, too." He was staring into the fireplace, turned away from her. "And I dream of Neville, dying for two people who weren't even really living anymore."
Silence enveloped the room. Ginny didn't know what to say, or what to do. What exactly is the protocol for responding to a story like that. Draco was crying full throttle now, little sobs moving his stiff form. Placing her hands on either side of his face, she forced him to look at her. "You did more than anyone could have expected you to. You're a good father." She wrapped her arms about him and let here own tears come. She whispered in his ear, "you're very much alive to me."
When they were both cried out, they attempted to eat dinner. Neither of them had much of an appetite, and it was getting late, so they climbed the stairs and wandered down the hallway to Marigold's room. A plump brunette was folding back the bedclothes.
"We'll take it from here, Amelia." The plump woman beat a hasty retreat, and Marigold looked up from the corner where she was putting her dolls to bed. "Are you staying, Aunt Ginny?"
"I'm afraid I can't." Ginny told her before quickly adding, "But I've brought along a very dear friend to stay with you." She reached into the satchel she'd brought along and pulled out a well worn stuffed animal. "His name is Warren, and he's very shy, so you'll have to introduce yourself."
"Will he keep the nightmares away?" The child asked skeptically.
"He's very good at that. He's a raccoon, so he can see in the dark, too. After I have a nightmare, I just cuddle Warren a bit and it makes me feel better."
"I guess I could try," Marigold said grudgingly as she climbed into bed.
Ginny kissed the child and the raccoon on the nose. "G'night Marigold. Take care of her Warren."
As they left, Ginny could hear the little girl chattering happily to the stuffed animal.
Draco led her back to the study's fireplace. "I guess this is goodbye."
Ginny smiled softly. "Not goodbye, just goodnight. Come for dinner on Wednesday."
"I'll ask Amelia to stay late. Drop by if you're feeling lonely between now and Wednesday."
"And why, exactly, would I do that, Draco?" Ginny teased.
"Because I think I'm falling in love with you, Virginia," he replied before kissing her. Somehow, he had a way of kissing her that could make her incredibly drowsy, but more alive than ever.