Disclaimer:
JK Rowling.
A/N:
You asked for snogging, you get it!
"Draco, do you want to have children?" Ginny asked.
They were taking a walk, as they had been doing everyday the past few days Draco had been there, and holding hands loosely. The question took Draco by surprise, because it had come from nowhere. Normally when they walked they barely said anything to each other – just enjoyed each other's company.
"I haven't really given it any thought," he finally answered, somewhat lying. He used to think he didn't want kids, or maybe he'd adopt ten year olds, but now he was beginning to rethink his decision.
Ginny stopped walking and turned to him. He
saw her cheeks were slightly flushed. "Because I want kids," she said. "Lots of
them."
"How many is lots?"
She shrugged, smiling shyly and grabbing his
other hand. "Five," she replied. "At least."
He smirked.
"I just don't want to marry anyone that
doesn't want kids," she continued, and her cheeks got even redder. Draco
thought it was adorable, though he would never admit it to anyone.
"So that's why you're asking," he stated
simply.
"I think you'd be a good father," Ginny said.
She opened her mouth to add something when Draco cut her off.
"Ahem. Look who I have for a role model. You
wouldn't want me to be the father of your kids."
"But that's why," Ginny insisted. "Since you
didn't grow up in a household of love then you'll want your kids to grow up
differently. Don't you think?"
"No." Yet even his voice sounded doubtful to
his own ears.
Ginny sighed and looked away. "What do you
plan on doing once you graduate Hogwarts?"
"Trying out for the position as Seeker for
England's team," he said instantly.
"You'll probably get it, too," she said,
meeting his eyes again and smiling softly. "I don't think Harry wants to be a
professional Quidditch player."
"So you're saying if Potter tried out then I
wouldn't be able to get the spot?" Draco snarled.
She blinked, startled. "Draco, that's not
what I said."
"But it's what you meant." He dropped her
hands and started walking ahead.
"What's your problem?" she asked, hurrying
after him.
He didn't reply at first and kept walking.
Finally, he spoke without looking over his shoulder or stopping. "Everyone
thinks that Potter's better at everything than I am. Even when we both
defeated Voldemort the article in the paper was on how brave and cunning Harry
Potter was. They only mentioned my name once. And they said I helped
him. If I hadn't been there then Potter would've never been able to do it, and
he'd be dead."
"Draco, that's only because Harry –" She
stopped, as if she didn't want to finish her sentence.
He quit walking and spun to face her. "Harry
what?" he asked.
She sighed and grabbed both his hands again,
which he jerked away. Giving up, she replied, "Draco, let's face it, your
father was a Death Eater. People believe that you were raised to worship
Voldemort. Not a lot of people would be interested, or believe, that you
defeated the Dark Lord just as much as Harry did."
He stared at her coldly, his expression
unreadable.
Ginny let out a short laugh. "Look at you!
You're so jealous of Harry you're sulking like a child!"
"I am not sulking," he hissed.
A faint smile on her lips, she stepped up and
pressed her body against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He couldn't
have pulled himself away even if he wanted to. Yet he did not return the
gesture and kept his arms at his sides.
"Who cares what people think of you," Ginny
whispered, tracing her finger lightly down the back of his neck. "You never
used to."
"It just makes me angry," Draco said,
narrowing his eyes at her. "When I do just as much and he gets all the credit."
"Let's worry about that later," she said
huskily, putting her lips very close to his cheek. "Right now we're alone and I
don't think anyone is going to walk in on us."
At first, he tried to be unresponsive as she
planted little kissing along his jaw line, on his ear, and finally back to his
lips. But it became too hard to resist her, and he began to return her kisses.
His hands went to her waist and he pulled her even closer.
Then, far too soon for his liking, she pulled
away and said softly, "Come on, lie down with me." Holding him by the wrist,
she pulled him ahead a little distance until they came to a clearing in the
woods, covered in knee-length dry grass.
Ginny sat down and pulled him after her. He
had barely even touched the ground when her lips were back on his, her hands
traveling up his stomach, over his chest, and finally finding his hair.
He had developed a fondness for the leather
outfits in Ginny's brother's drawer, and had been wearing them the whole time he
had been staying there. But at the moment, all the leather he wore seemed too
much. With his blood rushing the way it was, he felt way too warm.
He was leaning over her, propped up on one
elbow. One hand was going through her hair and the other firmly on her hips,
pulling her closer to him. She pulled her head away and moaned. Oh yes, Draco
wanted her more than anything at that moment. It took all of his self control
not to rip her clothes off like some sort of savage.
Instead he took his time, slipping his
fingers underneath the bottom of her T-shirt. He gently moved his palm over her
smooth skin, his lips leaving hers to kiss her neck. Suddenly, he stopped and
lifted his head. Ginny's eyes flew open, wondering what was wrong.
"Do you want children now?" Draco asked, his
voice very low.
Ginny stared at him for the longest time,
knowing what he was asking. He wanted to know if she wanted to go any further.
God knew she did, but was it really the right time? What happened if she did
get pregnant? Then she wouldn't be the only one in danger from Slytherin – her
baby would be, too. Risking her own life was one thing, but her unborn child's?
No, she thought. I can't. We can't.
Ginny shook her head slowly. She could tell
he was disappointed – what guy wouldn't be? – but he just nodded and took his
hand out from underneath her shirt. She sighed and rested her head on his
chest, loving the safe feeling she got when she was near him.
"Some other time," she promised softly,
wrapping her fingers in his.
That night Ginny had a hard time falling asleep. She kept thinking
about that afternoon. Like most girls, she was curious what would've happened
if she had said yes. She knew that she would've done it with the right guy –
right now, the possibility of ever breaking up with Draco seemed to cause a
dull ache in her chest. Subconsciously she thought that she really would marry
him.
So it wasn't like it would've been with the wrong person. She had found Mr. Right (she had to giggle at the thought of calling Draco Mr. Right) and there wasn't any reason why she shouldn't have said yes.
Except for the fact that there was a very
powerful man who wanted her dead. What if next time Slytherin used the Killing
Curse and she died? She wasn't Harry Potter – she didn't have a mother who
would be there to put a protection curse on her and keep her alive. She still
didn't know how she had survived the knife, but she knew she would never
survive Avada Kedrava.
She had seen how sad Draco had been when she had "died" before. In fact, when he had turned around to see her for the first time, she saw such pain even she could feel it. If she died for real, then he would either go crazy, perhaps become like his father and become evil, or he would kill himself. And she didn't want him to die just because she did. She really wanted him to have a life – it wasn't fair that she had such a hold on him that he wouldn't want to continue on without her.
Of course, it was perfectly fair that he had
the same exact hold on her. She wasn't sure what she'd do if he died. But she
didn't have to worry about that.
Did she?
Somehow, she must've finally drifted off. And
when she did she had a very, very weird dream.
It was dark, but she knew where she was. She was sitting on her front porch, just sitting perfectly still in the rocking chair. It was as if she was waiting for something that she didn't know was coming.
Staring out across the lawn, she could only
see until the curb. Beyond that was pure darkness. There was no moon or stars.
Unlike normal dreams, she could feel the cool breeze on her skin, and she could
feel the goose bumps. She could feel her hair blowing across her forehead, the
thin white nightgown over her body, her bare feet on the smoothly painted wood
floor. As she watched, looking out into the sea of darkness, a white form
started to appear. It came closer and grew into a larger, more noticeable
shape. It was of a woman. She was colorless, obviously a ghost. From where her
knees should be and down was just clear white transparency. The rest of her was
more solid, but Ginny could still see the black night through her.
The ghost had an intelligent face, and wore a
bright smile. She wasn't exactly pretty but she looked friendly and open, the
type who made friends with anyone and everyone. Ginny guessed her age around
twenty-five or thirty.
She parted her lips, her smile never fading,
and whispered, "Virginia . . . come . . ."
And without really commanding her legs to do
so, Ginny stood up and walked slowly off the front porch. The grass was cold,
she noticed, but that did not stop her. The ghost turned and started to float
away into the darkness. Ginny had to hurry to follow.
After a few moments, she began running. The
ghost was increasing in speed. Ginny sprinted so fast it felt like her feet
were no longer touching the ground. Faster, faster, faster, she had to keep up.
She wasn't sure why, but if she didn't keep sight of the ghost all would be
lost.
And finally the woman stopped and turned to
face her once more. With a shock Ginny realized she wasn't anywhere near her
house. She was in London. Everything was black and white, the sky black, the
buildings that seemed to curve over her white. The streets were deserted, and not
a sound was heard. Ginny thought, I haven't been running nearly long enough
to get me to the city. How did I get here?
But the point was she was there, and the
ghost was there too. Ginny could barely see her against the whiteness of the
buildings, but she knew she was there and still smiling broadly.
"Here . . ." she said, her voice echoing
around Ginny. "Wait . . ."
And then she was gone.
Even though it was most obviously a dream
(Ginny knew she was dreaming while she was in the dream) she felt the fear of
being abandoned. What was she to wait for? Was something terrible about to
happen?
Ginny waited for what seemed like a long
time. Everything was silent and cold. Looking down at herself, she found that
her skin was a pasty white, her hair a dull gray. Why was she here?
She sat down on the curb and tried to be
patient.
Then, she heard a voice behind her, just as
gentle as the first ghost's, only deeper. "Virginia, turn . . ."
Ginny twisted her head around and could
barely make out the form of yet another spirit, this time of a man. She jumped
to her feet immediately. The man had a brave face, and yet Ginny somehow knew
he was a kind person. He had a very tiny smile on his lips, and then pointed
straight down to the sidewalk he was hovering over.
"The map . . ." he said.
Ginny screwed her eyebrows, confused. There
was no map, what was he talking about –?
And as she looked on the bland white concrete
a piece of parchment appeared. It was the only thing in color and it wasn't
very bright – just a mild peach.
"Use the map . . ." the man instructed.
Ginny nodded and reached down to grab the
map. The instant her fingers touched it, her dream melted away . . .
Ginny woke up with a start in her bed, breathing hard. She sat up quickly, wide awake. What had the dream been for? Had it just been some random dream like most are? Or was it trying to tell her something?
She felt something between her fingers.
Looking down, she saw there was a piece of
parchment in her right hand. The hand that had touched the map in her dream.
Somehow, she had really, truly touched the map and it was now here, with her.
Had it been a dream? Or had she really gotten
out of bed and walked to the city?
Glancing out the window, she dismissed the
idea. No way, she'd only been out for about an hour. There was no way she could've
gotten there in back in an hour.
The ghosts in the dream had helped her. The
spirits of . . .
Ginny wasn't sure how she knew this, but she
was positive that the spirits in her dream had been Helga Hufflepuff and Godric
Gryffindor.
A/N: rereading this I just realized it's kinda like A Christmas Carol,
where Scrooge is visited by the three ghosts. Hee hee, I did not mean it like
to come out like but that's okay, no biggie.
Thanks to: AlienChick (luv u too! Uh, you know the way I mean, right?),
Archer/Trinity (Catenatus is AWESOME), w&m_law (I guess I am picking on Ron
a bit much, aren't I? But you're right, he is really sweet and he knows I love
him!), FireSprite, summer_thyme (still waiting for your web page to be set
up!), Draco's Lil Angel (more snoggin' to come!), Burke, pyrobunnie, PepperJackCandy
(well, not exactly the bowels of the earth, lol), Ming Li (I agree :)) sOmEoNeSpEcIaL
