Gutterflower


"You Never Know"



Chirp.


"Shut the fuck up!"


Chirp, chirp!


"God damn it all, won't you fucking stop?"


Squeak.


"Fine… be a fucking dick. I'll get up." Draco groaned and rolled over on his bed, facing the semi-open window to the right. "Damn birds."


He turned his torso, letting his legs slip off the side of the bed. Draco slipped his feet onto the cold concrete floor and poised himself into a stand, stretching his arms above his head to ease the pull of his muscle tension. He didn't get much sleep last night; too many thoughts crept into his mind that he couldn't shun away.


A quick glance to the shower door left him feeling rather dirty. Draco looked down at himself; his silk boxers clung to his skin and beads of sweat were rolling down his chest. No wonder he couldn't sleep well last night; he had been sweating up a storm and he, in his mind, stunk.


Draco walked into his bathroom, closing the door behind him. Wrapping his fingers around the boxer waistband and tugging them off his form left a daft feeling of coldness in the presence of the rising steam from the showerhead. He groaned and slipped into the hot jet of water. Needless to say, it stung, and turned his pale skin pink.


After cleansing himself from his nightly exposures, Draco climbed out of the shower and dried himself off. His room was warm and humid, making him feel dirty once more. He ignored it and got dressed.


Being at Malfoy Manor had its good and its bad qualities. For instance, now that Draco had returned to his parent's home, he could no longer pull the stunts that he did back at the Leaky Cauldron. For example - if his father had learned that he had fucked Virginia Weasley, he would definitely get a boot in the ass and a stern reprimand. Punishments would be worse, however, if he had slept with any muggle-borns or half-bloods… But Draco was smart. He only used the oblivious ones.


How great it was to be a Malfoy.


The thick curtains that covered his large bay windows rustled with a faint breeze. The sound brought Draco out of his 'thinking' mood and suddenly reminded him that he had places to go, women to do. Again… the joys of being a Malfoy. Only a suave, debonair male like himself could get away with such atrocities.


And the fun thing was, he didn't even have to try.


Draco walked out of his rooms and down the hallway of Malfoy Manor. He knew where his family was, already, and didn't have to worry about bumping into them at the moment. His mother would be downstairs, in the kitchens, cursing obscenities at the new family house-elves while they bent toward her every whim. Lucius would be in the lounge, puffing on a cigar or simply drinking brandy from an expensive goblet, because expensive was the Malfoy way.


He had to get out of this place, go somewhere where he could think in peace. The Love Shack? Infinite Pleasures? Draco shook his head, scratching those choices off of his mental list. There would be too many people there, too many things to get tied into… too many women to be frollicing all about him.


But then again… didn't he want women to be frollicing about him? That was what he had thought earlier that morning, after he had first risen, but now… now, he wasn't too sure. For some strange reason, his thoughts kept floating back to that vixen, Weasley…


Had she honestly meant what she told him at the Leaky Cauldron the other day? Draco couldn't tell for sure, and add to the fact that he didn't want to believe her… well, chances were that he would never really know.


Oh, but he would know. Sooner or later, he'd know for sure. Virginia would start showing if she was pregnant in a few months, and if she was, when she gave birth the appearance of the child would be figured out… or would it?


Draco pressed the heel of his palm into his forehead, walking out of the front door of Malfoy Manor. Something was seriously wrong with him, he figured, as he walked through the garden. He was picturing what his child would look like, if ever he had one. Would Virginia the Vixen's child look like him? Blonde hair, sharp Malfoy features… the cold, steely eyes?


As if. Any child of any Weasley would turn out to look like every other Weasley that had ever lived on the planet. Dark eyes, flaming red hair, and if it were a male child, it would most likely possess a beak for a nose. Really! Ron the Weasel had a rather large beak for a nose…


But… what if?


*****



Ginny woke to the sounds of pots and pans being slammed together. It was evident that her mum was awake, cooking something, and in a rage. Molly Weasley only slammed cookery together when she was extremely mad, and her boiling point and reached its peak. Ginny felt her stomach tie into a knot.


She wasn't really looking forward to face the day. No… instead, she wanted to burrow herself underneath her covers and cry herself back to sleep, but there was no sleep left in her. Ginny was wide awake - a feat that happened every single morning when she woke. Only when the sun had set and everyone around her had fallen asleep could she fall asleep. Such a horrible cycle.


"Never in all my life…" Mrs. Weasley shouted to nobody in particular. Ginny winced and felt herself tense up. Her mother was really angry at her… and her mother had never been angry at her before. It was always the boys in the family that had gotten the bad end of the stick when it came to Mrs. Weasley.


"Breakfast is done!"


Ginny had to admit, she was growing hungrier and hungrier as each day passed. Breakfast was one of her favorite meals of the day - as long as it consisted of bacon, in some form or another. She rolled out of bed and got dressed quickly.


After making her way down the stairs, Ginny set herself at the table and helped herself to a few pieces of bacon, sausages, and eggs. Mrs. Weasley had her back turned to her, and she was still banging pots together. Ginny felt tears prickle on her eyes. Her mum would never, ever forgive her…


Before she knew it, Ginny was crying. She was crying very loudly, and very hard. Soon Mrs. Weasley had joined in, and Mr. Weasley walked into the kitchen to find his daughter and his wife bawling their eyes out. He sighed and grabbed a few items of food before walking back out.


Molly Weasley sat down next to her daughter and pulled Ginny close to her. She forced her head onto her shoulder and gently patted her hair, still crying. Her motherly affection was getting the best of her.


"Oh, Ginny… I'm sorry that I was being such a horrible mother to you," she wailed. Ginny sobbed harder. "I only want what's best for you, and a baby isn't what you need. You need time to be a little girl…!"


Choking back her sobs, Ginny lifted her head to meet her mother's eyes. "I, hic, know, mum. I, hic, didn't, hic, mean to."


"I know, Ginny. I know. Just tell me, Ginny. Who is the daddy?"


Growing more hysterical, Ginny turned away from her mother. She found it very hard to speak, as no words would come out of her mouth unaccompanied by choking sobs. "I, hic, just, hic, can't tell, hic, you!"


Ya never know
Some folks think the world just moves too slow
But was it you
Who told me I'm your everything
You hit me like I've never felt before
Hit me like a sucker punch, you're rotten to the core
You know you hit me like I've never felt before
Silly for the last time
You never take
A promise from a man who sheds his skin
You had to wait
For my achin' heart to break
You hit me like I've never felt before
Hit me like a sucker punch, you're rotten to the core
You know you hit me like I've never felt before
Silly for the last time
Oh, everyone gets angry
I feel it when you're holdin' me
But in the right place, at the right time, to the right degree
It's breeding ground
For the pain I've found
From dealin' with your scene
And you know that ain't easy