"Dad? What's wrong?" Leah asked, looking around excitedly, as if, in any
moment, she were going to run and fetch help. "You just kind of. . .
stopped. What's going on?"
"Y. . .y. . .your mo-" he stammered.
"What?"
"Your mother. . ." he finally got out.
Leah's hands went to her hips. "How many times do we have to tell you we aren't going to talk about her? You'll meet her when you meet her, and have two wonderful children. That's all you need to know."
"Your mother is Weasley?" he asked quietly.
Leah's jaw fell. That was all he needed. She could not deny it now even if she wanted to.
"Your mother is Weasley?" he asked a little louder.
Leah nodded silently.
Another thought entered his mind immediately, and she knew what he was going to ask before he did. "How far back in time did you come? I mean, are you born twenty, twenty-five years in the future?" His voice was almost hopeful.
Leah mumbled her answer, looking down. She had been hoping against hope that this conversation would not occur while she was in this part of time. Her father was so plainly happy - his only worries at this point were winning the Quidditch Cup and not killing Rachel whenever he was around her. Knowing THIS information would affect everything. Impending fatherhood and marriage at seventeen would throw a weight on any boy's shoulders.
"What?" he said, not hearing her.
Her face shot up, her eyes locked with his. "Thirteen, Dad. Rachel and I are from thirteen years in the future. I'm twelve now. Do the math. You will have me and a wife about the same time you graduate."
His face went pale. The only thought running through his mind was that he needed to sit down. Leah saw his whiteness, and immediately clutched his arm, becoming a support, despite the fact that she was heads shorter than him. "Okay, Dad, put down your broom and just sit down. This is a lot to take in. I'm sorry for being so blunt."
"No, no, Leah, I asked, didn't I?" he comforted, plopping down on the grass on the outskirts of the main pitch.
The information ran around in his head. He looked up at her pleadingly, still obviously ingesting the information. "I would never have paired us up, but I mean, we apparently create some beautiful children, so it can't be all bad," he said to himself. Leah blushed.
"Come on, Dad, let's get you back to the locker room. Get you out of the nasty uniform," she instructed, pulling him up and leading him back to the castle.
Another thought hit him at that moment, one that he did not share with his young daughter guiding him.
She would be born not long after his graduation from Hogwarts. June or July.
He laughed sardonically, remembering his ponderings of unexpected consequences due to his and Ginny's night together. Remembering how he'd laughed about it earlier in the day.
Here was one of those consequences right in front of him, bossing him into the castle. The same one whose sixteen-year-old mother might be carrying her, and probably did not realize she was doing so.
*****
Ginny was sitting in her dormitory alone, catching up on Advanced Arithmancy homework when the one person who she did not want to see came barging in, still attired in his muddy green Quidditch uniform, broom clutched at his side. Leah followed, looking ashamed for some reason. Malfoy looked even more ashen than he usually did, but with a glint of determination in his eyes. His squared shoulders intimidated her, but she did not let him see it when she stood up.
"Did you let him in here?" Ginny asked Leah, cowering behind her father.
"Yeah, I did. He said he really needed to talk to you," Leah explained.
"Well, tell HIM-" Ginny looked straight at him, pointing at his chest-"that I do not want to talk to him or see him."
"I don't think I've gone deaf in the last few weeks, Ginny, thank you, but even if I had, you wouldn't have known it, would you?" He turned around and looked at his daughter. "Leah, we need a few moments alone."
Leah flashed an apologetic look at Ginny before making herself scarce, running out of the sixth year dormitory.
She turned around, her back facing him, looking out the window onto the castle's bright exterior. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
"We need to talk." He sat on her bed.
"Hey there! Don't get too comfortable in here. You're leaving in a few seconds anyway."
"This is serious. I found out some things today. . . that are going to change things around here."
"When did I become your sounding board again, Malfoy? We haven't talked in weeks!" she exclaimed, frustrated.
"Not for my lack of trying, Weasley," he stated quietly. She reluctantly nodded her head. "I found out some things from Leah today." He gestured toward the space next to him. "I think you need to sit down."
"What? What's wrong? Something about the girls?" she asked worriedly, sitting down.
"The girls are fine. Nothing about their situation has changed. Something about ours has, though."
She made a flagging motion between both of them, saying, "WE have no situation, Malfoy. There is no WE, now please tell me what the problem is."
He decided to approach the topic from a different perspective. "Did your mother ever teach you about the Contraceptus Potion?"
"What?" She looked aghast. He walked in here like the end of the world would occur tomorrow, and now he was asking about birth control?
"Did she teach you about it? Do you ever use it?"
"Believe it or not, Malfoy, I did not enter Hogwarts this year thinking I was going to sleep with you, or anyone else for that matter - so, yeah, she told me about it, but I never used it."
There was a sharp intake of breath from him. So she is pregnant, he thought to himself.
"Leah told me who her and Rachel's mother is." He paused.
"And who is she, Malfoy?"
"You."
There was a moment of silence. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open. "Me. . . you. . . created. . . them?" she sputtered. There was a moment of silence. "What? Are you joking?"
"No. Now take a moment. Absorb the information," he instructed. "I have another piece of information for you also."
"There's more?" she asked incredulously, still obviously processing the shock. "I find out that I am going to mother YOUR spawn sometime in the future and there's more?!"
"Have you been feeling nauseous lately?" he asked quietly.
"Sort of, but I didn't give myself the Pepperup Potion early enough this winter. . . What does it matter anyway?"
She searched his eyes until his implied intent settled in.
"I'm pregnant, aren't I?" she gasped, tears entering her eyes.
He nodded sullenly.
She pointed to the door. "With Leah. I'm pregnant with Leah. Oh, gods on Mount Olympus, I'm sixteen and pregnant with Leah."
*******
(A/N: This segment comes off as exceptionally pro-life and, when I re-read it, rather preachy. This is not my intention. I am, and will forever be, staunchly pro-choice, but if Ginny decided to abort her pregnancy, my whole plot would be lost. On that same token, though, I could not ignore the option of termination altogether, as it is, often, a viable choice for an unplanned pregnancy, even in the wizarding world.
And please, please, please do not flame me with anti-choice sentiments. My story happens to coincide with a very hot-button issue. I know the arguments of the pro-life movement, respect those arguments, and believe everyone is entitled to their own opinion. Please do not let yours take away from your experience with this particular piece of fanfiction.)
There was no need to rush into things, Malfoy reassured Ginny a week later, after she had had enough time to accept the information, and for Madam Pomfrey to perform a pregnancy verification charm on her to confirm her impending child. He just wanted to make sure she kept all her options open.
"Don't look so distraught, dear," the MediWitch comforted. "This actually occurs quite often in the wizarding world. It's nothing the right combination of charms and a potion can't take care of."
Pomfrey stared at Malfoy, who stood in the back of the room, his arms crossed, looking rather concerned. "Are you the father, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked.
He nodded.
"I see." She looked back and forth at both of them. "Remember, Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, that what happens in this room, whatever information you reveal in this room, stays in this room. Be reassured of that. Please do not hesitate to ask me any questions you may, if you do in fact, carry the child to term." Sensing the need for these two teenagers to be alone, she added, "I need to go restock some supplies in the back room. Miss Weasley, my door is always open." She left.
Ginny, lying on the bed, looked at Malfoy. "I am not terminating."
A relieved look crossed his face. "I didn't think you would, but it's good to know."
She started crying. "I can't do it. It would be so easy, Draco, I swear, it would make my life all sorts of easier if I just bucked up the courage and terminated, but look what I would be doing to the future. I've met Leah, I LOVE Leah, and it wouldn't be just some fetus I'd be disposing of, it would be Leah. I would be depriving the world of her, and she has so much to offer."
He walked over to the bed. "So what do we do now?"
"I know what we don't do. . . We DON'T get married. Agreed?"
He sighed. He was seventeen. Marriage was not exactly in the cards right now, but then of course, neither was a kid. Life plans changed, and he had to learn to deal. According to Leah, Ginny and him were married in the future, but he reasoned that he had enough control to make slight changes. The two of them could mutually agree to conceive Rachel when the time was right. She would be a welcome addition to anybody's family. "Agreed, for the time being anyway."
"I mean, we can't get married," she whispered, looking at him. "I don't love you."
"Fair enough," he responded, his ego taking a fair blow. He did not love Weasley either, but he was disappointed to find out that night in the Great Hall had not helped her pry herself away from Potter. Not even a little bit. She was obviously immune to his alluring charm, and this bothered him.
"I guess the best thing for me to do right now is to go home to the Burrow. Break the news to my parents." She laughed nervously. "Oh my God, my parents. How am I going to tell them this? 'Yup, Mum, Dad, I'm going to bear the next generation of Malfoys.'"
"It'll be fine, Ginny," he soothed softly.
"So what weekend is good for you?"
"What?" he queried.
"What weekend is good for you to come with me to the Burrow? You ARE going to be there when I tell my parents," Ginny instructed. She grabbed a piece of parchment from Pomfrey's side table. "You probably don't want to miss any of upcoming Hogsmeade weekends - I don't either, I think I may have to bulk up on chocolate from Honeydukes, you know, expected cravings and such, so that eliminates the first weekend next month and. . ."
"Wait, hold on," Draco started, backing from the bed. "You want me to go to the Burrow with you? Where your father will have easier access to my skull?"
She smiled. "And there won't be any witnesses. AND Charlie will be home. I can't wait."
*******
Rachel was off with Hagrid when Leah encountered her parents coming out of the Hospital Wing. Leah, not a particularly imbecilic child, with some knowledge of both math and reproduction, knew why they were in that part of the school. She encountered them in the hallway outside of Madam Pomfrey's chambers.
They were deep in conversation with serious looks plastered on their faces when she greeted them. Both of her parents had spaced themselves from Rachel and her. Leah hadn't even TALKED to Ginny alone in almost a week. Perhaps intentional, perhaps not, Leah wasn't sure, but it was going to end now. "Hi."
Ginny and Draco looked at each other. "Hi there, Lee," Ginny said, coming over and hugging her.
"Long time no see," she said casually, flashing a seething look at her father. Leah had not been in this part of time so long that she could not remember her regular life when she often did not associate with her mother; it was not associating with her father that got to her.
"Where've you been?" he asked casually.
"Going through some of Professor McGonagall's books in her chambers."
"Learn anything new? About anything?"
"No information on the Malfoy line, no info on my Weasley line, absolutely nothing. I don't know, except I overheard Professor Dumbledore saying something to Professor McGonagall outside her quarters about defeating the Dark Lord. . . a year's gestation. . . Potter's child. I don't even know if it had anything to do with me, I bet it doesn't. He was probably just discussing Mr. Potter again. I guess Hogwarts' hasn't been the same since. . . ." She looked at the pair of them, anxiously, changing the subject. "Is everything progressing okay, with the baby. . . with me?" she asked her mother quietly.
"So you know that you have already been conceived," Draco acknowledged.
"I saw you guys kissing outside Gryffindor a month or so ago. The next part of that was bound to happen sooner or later, and since I know my own birth date, all I needed was a calendar to get a ballpark date."
She had been avoiding Leah and Rachel, and avoiding the pregnancy all together. She had hoped not acknowledging it would make it go away. It hadn't worked, but as she stared down at Leah, there was this sharp sense of pride at the fact that all the trouble she would soon encounter with her parents would be worth it. This ordeal - two pregnancies, she reminded herself - would produce strong, sensible daughters. "You're too smart for your own good, you know that?" Ginny grinned down at her daughter. "So I'm your mother. That's something you neglected to tell me."
"I couldn't!" Leah defended, smiling. "Dumbledore told me I could not. It was up to you two to put two and two together."
"You had no problem telling me, though," Draco commented dryly.
"Yeah, well, you were no cuddly ferret that night when we met you, and I felt the news would either kill you or shock you into silence. Luckily, it was the latter." She placed her hand on Ginny's abdomen, fully aware she couldn't feel anything this early, but took comfort in the fact that she was in there. "Kinda creepy, isn't it? I mean, at least it is for me, knowing that I'm standing here AND in there." They both nodded. "So how far along am I?"
"About a month, Leah," Draco informed.
"I'm right on schedule then, as usual," she laughed. "Look for my premiere to be. . ."
"July 31st," Ginny finished quietly.
Draco eyed Leah, unsure why Ginny said the date with such reverence. Catching it, she told, "I share a birthday with the great Harry Potter, go figure."
"Oh," he responded, boiling inside that he had to share another thing with the damned faultless Potter. Control yourself, Malfoy told himself. Potter's dead, Ginny's bearing your child, he's dead. Leah is not Potter's, she's your's. The prick is dead.
"We're going to the Burrow this weekend," Ginny said. "Break the news about you to your grandparents."
Leah's jaw dropped as if someone had placed an Engorgement Charm on it. "Dad, you're going to the Burrow?"
"Yes," he said hesitantly.
"You DO know that Grandpa Arthur lives there?"
"I am aware of this fact."
"And, oh, Merlin's toes, he's twelve years younger than when I know him - and he's no slouch in my time, mind you. That means he's stronger, faster, AND has more hair."
Draco nodded.
"And you're STILL going?"
He nodded again. "And you and Rachel are going with us."
"Y. . .y. . .your mo-" he stammered.
"What?"
"Your mother. . ." he finally got out.
Leah's hands went to her hips. "How many times do we have to tell you we aren't going to talk about her? You'll meet her when you meet her, and have two wonderful children. That's all you need to know."
"Your mother is Weasley?" he asked quietly.
Leah's jaw fell. That was all he needed. She could not deny it now even if she wanted to.
"Your mother is Weasley?" he asked a little louder.
Leah nodded silently.
Another thought entered his mind immediately, and she knew what he was going to ask before he did. "How far back in time did you come? I mean, are you born twenty, twenty-five years in the future?" His voice was almost hopeful.
Leah mumbled her answer, looking down. She had been hoping against hope that this conversation would not occur while she was in this part of time. Her father was so plainly happy - his only worries at this point were winning the Quidditch Cup and not killing Rachel whenever he was around her. Knowing THIS information would affect everything. Impending fatherhood and marriage at seventeen would throw a weight on any boy's shoulders.
"What?" he said, not hearing her.
Her face shot up, her eyes locked with his. "Thirteen, Dad. Rachel and I are from thirteen years in the future. I'm twelve now. Do the math. You will have me and a wife about the same time you graduate."
His face went pale. The only thought running through his mind was that he needed to sit down. Leah saw his whiteness, and immediately clutched his arm, becoming a support, despite the fact that she was heads shorter than him. "Okay, Dad, put down your broom and just sit down. This is a lot to take in. I'm sorry for being so blunt."
"No, no, Leah, I asked, didn't I?" he comforted, plopping down on the grass on the outskirts of the main pitch.
The information ran around in his head. He looked up at her pleadingly, still obviously ingesting the information. "I would never have paired us up, but I mean, we apparently create some beautiful children, so it can't be all bad," he said to himself. Leah blushed.
"Come on, Dad, let's get you back to the locker room. Get you out of the nasty uniform," she instructed, pulling him up and leading him back to the castle.
Another thought hit him at that moment, one that he did not share with his young daughter guiding him.
She would be born not long after his graduation from Hogwarts. June or July.
He laughed sardonically, remembering his ponderings of unexpected consequences due to his and Ginny's night together. Remembering how he'd laughed about it earlier in the day.
Here was one of those consequences right in front of him, bossing him into the castle. The same one whose sixteen-year-old mother might be carrying her, and probably did not realize she was doing so.
*****
Ginny was sitting in her dormitory alone, catching up on Advanced Arithmancy homework when the one person who she did not want to see came barging in, still attired in his muddy green Quidditch uniform, broom clutched at his side. Leah followed, looking ashamed for some reason. Malfoy looked even more ashen than he usually did, but with a glint of determination in his eyes. His squared shoulders intimidated her, but she did not let him see it when she stood up.
"Did you let him in here?" Ginny asked Leah, cowering behind her father.
"Yeah, I did. He said he really needed to talk to you," Leah explained.
"Well, tell HIM-" Ginny looked straight at him, pointing at his chest-"that I do not want to talk to him or see him."
"I don't think I've gone deaf in the last few weeks, Ginny, thank you, but even if I had, you wouldn't have known it, would you?" He turned around and looked at his daughter. "Leah, we need a few moments alone."
Leah flashed an apologetic look at Ginny before making herself scarce, running out of the sixth year dormitory.
She turned around, her back facing him, looking out the window onto the castle's bright exterior. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
"We need to talk." He sat on her bed.
"Hey there! Don't get too comfortable in here. You're leaving in a few seconds anyway."
"This is serious. I found out some things today. . . that are going to change things around here."
"When did I become your sounding board again, Malfoy? We haven't talked in weeks!" she exclaimed, frustrated.
"Not for my lack of trying, Weasley," he stated quietly. She reluctantly nodded her head. "I found out some things from Leah today." He gestured toward the space next to him. "I think you need to sit down."
"What? What's wrong? Something about the girls?" she asked worriedly, sitting down.
"The girls are fine. Nothing about their situation has changed. Something about ours has, though."
She made a flagging motion between both of them, saying, "WE have no situation, Malfoy. There is no WE, now please tell me what the problem is."
He decided to approach the topic from a different perspective. "Did your mother ever teach you about the Contraceptus Potion?"
"What?" She looked aghast. He walked in here like the end of the world would occur tomorrow, and now he was asking about birth control?
"Did she teach you about it? Do you ever use it?"
"Believe it or not, Malfoy, I did not enter Hogwarts this year thinking I was going to sleep with you, or anyone else for that matter - so, yeah, she told me about it, but I never used it."
There was a sharp intake of breath from him. So she is pregnant, he thought to himself.
"Leah told me who her and Rachel's mother is." He paused.
"And who is she, Malfoy?"
"You."
There was a moment of silence. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open. "Me. . . you. . . created. . . them?" she sputtered. There was a moment of silence. "What? Are you joking?"
"No. Now take a moment. Absorb the information," he instructed. "I have another piece of information for you also."
"There's more?" she asked incredulously, still obviously processing the shock. "I find out that I am going to mother YOUR spawn sometime in the future and there's more?!"
"Have you been feeling nauseous lately?" he asked quietly.
"Sort of, but I didn't give myself the Pepperup Potion early enough this winter. . . What does it matter anyway?"
She searched his eyes until his implied intent settled in.
"I'm pregnant, aren't I?" she gasped, tears entering her eyes.
He nodded sullenly.
She pointed to the door. "With Leah. I'm pregnant with Leah. Oh, gods on Mount Olympus, I'm sixteen and pregnant with Leah."
*******
(A/N: This segment comes off as exceptionally pro-life and, when I re-read it, rather preachy. This is not my intention. I am, and will forever be, staunchly pro-choice, but if Ginny decided to abort her pregnancy, my whole plot would be lost. On that same token, though, I could not ignore the option of termination altogether, as it is, often, a viable choice for an unplanned pregnancy, even in the wizarding world.
And please, please, please do not flame me with anti-choice sentiments. My story happens to coincide with a very hot-button issue. I know the arguments of the pro-life movement, respect those arguments, and believe everyone is entitled to their own opinion. Please do not let yours take away from your experience with this particular piece of fanfiction.)
There was no need to rush into things, Malfoy reassured Ginny a week later, after she had had enough time to accept the information, and for Madam Pomfrey to perform a pregnancy verification charm on her to confirm her impending child. He just wanted to make sure she kept all her options open.
"Don't look so distraught, dear," the MediWitch comforted. "This actually occurs quite often in the wizarding world. It's nothing the right combination of charms and a potion can't take care of."
Pomfrey stared at Malfoy, who stood in the back of the room, his arms crossed, looking rather concerned. "Are you the father, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked.
He nodded.
"I see." She looked back and forth at both of them. "Remember, Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, that what happens in this room, whatever information you reveal in this room, stays in this room. Be reassured of that. Please do not hesitate to ask me any questions you may, if you do in fact, carry the child to term." Sensing the need for these two teenagers to be alone, she added, "I need to go restock some supplies in the back room. Miss Weasley, my door is always open." She left.
Ginny, lying on the bed, looked at Malfoy. "I am not terminating."
A relieved look crossed his face. "I didn't think you would, but it's good to know."
She started crying. "I can't do it. It would be so easy, Draco, I swear, it would make my life all sorts of easier if I just bucked up the courage and terminated, but look what I would be doing to the future. I've met Leah, I LOVE Leah, and it wouldn't be just some fetus I'd be disposing of, it would be Leah. I would be depriving the world of her, and she has so much to offer."
He walked over to the bed. "So what do we do now?"
"I know what we don't do. . . We DON'T get married. Agreed?"
He sighed. He was seventeen. Marriage was not exactly in the cards right now, but then of course, neither was a kid. Life plans changed, and he had to learn to deal. According to Leah, Ginny and him were married in the future, but he reasoned that he had enough control to make slight changes. The two of them could mutually agree to conceive Rachel when the time was right. She would be a welcome addition to anybody's family. "Agreed, for the time being anyway."
"I mean, we can't get married," she whispered, looking at him. "I don't love you."
"Fair enough," he responded, his ego taking a fair blow. He did not love Weasley either, but he was disappointed to find out that night in the Great Hall had not helped her pry herself away from Potter. Not even a little bit. She was obviously immune to his alluring charm, and this bothered him.
"I guess the best thing for me to do right now is to go home to the Burrow. Break the news to my parents." She laughed nervously. "Oh my God, my parents. How am I going to tell them this? 'Yup, Mum, Dad, I'm going to bear the next generation of Malfoys.'"
"It'll be fine, Ginny," he soothed softly.
"So what weekend is good for you?"
"What?" he queried.
"What weekend is good for you to come with me to the Burrow? You ARE going to be there when I tell my parents," Ginny instructed. She grabbed a piece of parchment from Pomfrey's side table. "You probably don't want to miss any of upcoming Hogsmeade weekends - I don't either, I think I may have to bulk up on chocolate from Honeydukes, you know, expected cravings and such, so that eliminates the first weekend next month and. . ."
"Wait, hold on," Draco started, backing from the bed. "You want me to go to the Burrow with you? Where your father will have easier access to my skull?"
She smiled. "And there won't be any witnesses. AND Charlie will be home. I can't wait."
*******
Rachel was off with Hagrid when Leah encountered her parents coming out of the Hospital Wing. Leah, not a particularly imbecilic child, with some knowledge of both math and reproduction, knew why they were in that part of the school. She encountered them in the hallway outside of Madam Pomfrey's chambers.
They were deep in conversation with serious looks plastered on their faces when she greeted them. Both of her parents had spaced themselves from Rachel and her. Leah hadn't even TALKED to Ginny alone in almost a week. Perhaps intentional, perhaps not, Leah wasn't sure, but it was going to end now. "Hi."
Ginny and Draco looked at each other. "Hi there, Lee," Ginny said, coming over and hugging her.
"Long time no see," she said casually, flashing a seething look at her father. Leah had not been in this part of time so long that she could not remember her regular life when she often did not associate with her mother; it was not associating with her father that got to her.
"Where've you been?" he asked casually.
"Going through some of Professor McGonagall's books in her chambers."
"Learn anything new? About anything?"
"No information on the Malfoy line, no info on my Weasley line, absolutely nothing. I don't know, except I overheard Professor Dumbledore saying something to Professor McGonagall outside her quarters about defeating the Dark Lord. . . a year's gestation. . . Potter's child. I don't even know if it had anything to do with me, I bet it doesn't. He was probably just discussing Mr. Potter again. I guess Hogwarts' hasn't been the same since. . . ." She looked at the pair of them, anxiously, changing the subject. "Is everything progressing okay, with the baby. . . with me?" she asked her mother quietly.
"So you know that you have already been conceived," Draco acknowledged.
"I saw you guys kissing outside Gryffindor a month or so ago. The next part of that was bound to happen sooner or later, and since I know my own birth date, all I needed was a calendar to get a ballpark date."
She had been avoiding Leah and Rachel, and avoiding the pregnancy all together. She had hoped not acknowledging it would make it go away. It hadn't worked, but as she stared down at Leah, there was this sharp sense of pride at the fact that all the trouble she would soon encounter with her parents would be worth it. This ordeal - two pregnancies, she reminded herself - would produce strong, sensible daughters. "You're too smart for your own good, you know that?" Ginny grinned down at her daughter. "So I'm your mother. That's something you neglected to tell me."
"I couldn't!" Leah defended, smiling. "Dumbledore told me I could not. It was up to you two to put two and two together."
"You had no problem telling me, though," Draco commented dryly.
"Yeah, well, you were no cuddly ferret that night when we met you, and I felt the news would either kill you or shock you into silence. Luckily, it was the latter." She placed her hand on Ginny's abdomen, fully aware she couldn't feel anything this early, but took comfort in the fact that she was in there. "Kinda creepy, isn't it? I mean, at least it is for me, knowing that I'm standing here AND in there." They both nodded. "So how far along am I?"
"About a month, Leah," Draco informed.
"I'm right on schedule then, as usual," she laughed. "Look for my premiere to be. . ."
"July 31st," Ginny finished quietly.
Draco eyed Leah, unsure why Ginny said the date with such reverence. Catching it, she told, "I share a birthday with the great Harry Potter, go figure."
"Oh," he responded, boiling inside that he had to share another thing with the damned faultless Potter. Control yourself, Malfoy told himself. Potter's dead, Ginny's bearing your child, he's dead. Leah is not Potter's, she's your's. The prick is dead.
"We're going to the Burrow this weekend," Ginny said. "Break the news about you to your grandparents."
Leah's jaw dropped as if someone had placed an Engorgement Charm on it. "Dad, you're going to the Burrow?"
"Yes," he said hesitantly.
"You DO know that Grandpa Arthur lives there?"
"I am aware of this fact."
"And, oh, Merlin's toes, he's twelve years younger than when I know him - and he's no slouch in my time, mind you. That means he's stronger, faster, AND has more hair."
Draco nodded.
"And you're STILL going?"
He nodded again. "And you and Rachel are going with us."