Disclaimer: I don't intend to infringe on any copyright laws, I just want to exercise my freedom of speech.

Lethal Revelations

The vase was big and ugly, but he had chosen it for his name, dragon. This dragon wasn't anything like the real thing, it looked like it was made of marshmallows squashed. It was fat, the kind of dragon in the storybooks his mother read to him.

He lay waiting for the prize, to catch Harry Potter before he escaped with his pathetic Defense Against the Dark Arts League. He saw them zipping by but he waited for the right one.

She raced past, a whirl of red hair and worn-out robes. She was running, panting with her shoelace untied. She wouldn't need a tripping charm to fall. It was a pity to lose her, she was a Weasley after all, and maybe her father would be fired if she was caught.

He couldn't stop himself; he was chasing her and she ran faster. She was frantic and he loved it. She glanced over his shoulder, a fatal mistake. She tripped on the loose lace and fell, hard, skinning her palms on the worn, stone floor. He cornered her, looming above her, his wand pointed at her. She was going to cry.

But she didn't. She didn't even look afraid. She was accepting her capture. She was supposed to be afraid.

"I'm going to take you to Professor Umbridge and your family will be so shamed. Your father is going to have to resign and you'll be poorer than ever." She wasn't unnerved, instead rose to meet him, looking him square in the eye. She was so close he could see her lower lip trembling slightly. It was a full lower lip.

"Please let me go." He grinned.

"No."

"I'll…I'll kiss you if you let me go."

"What makes you think your kiss is worth your freedom?"

She didn't answer, only lifted her hands palm up and cupped his face. He should feel revolted; her hands were bloody. Instead her eyes shone and she smelled like honeysuckle. She kissed him.

Her lips were soft and warm, like a satin pillow. She hadn't closed her eyes and neither did he and he stared at her in silent competition. He was so close his eyes had trouble focusing.  Slowly, she closed her eyes and a silver tear slipped from the corner to roll down her cheek. Another one followed. He closed his eyes and kissed her harder, grasping her waist and pulling her close. He didn't want her to cry. Especially not when she was kissing him. It didn't work; the silver tears trailed down to her mouth. They had a metallic taste.

"Why are you crying?" he asked against her mouth, his eyes still closed. Her response was distant, like an echo across an ocean.

"You're hurting me."

"How?"

"I'll never be able to kiss you again."

He kissed her, to prove her wrong, and was met by damp cheeks and salty lips. More tears were rolling down her cheeks and he realized they weren't hers.

Daylight streamed through the windows, muted by grime and curtains but filling the room all the same. Draco ran his hand lazily through his hair. He had been so much trouble last year. Not to his father – his father was proud he was working for the cause – but to Ginny and her family. And to Harry and Hermione. He wondered when he had stopped using their last names, making them impersonal to him. He supposed it was when Ginny had embroiled him in her life, snaring him in her spider's web.

That day when he had caught Harry, that had been one of his proudest moments for a long time. Now he realized it was one of his lowest. He had almost chased her that day, and until now he hadn't wondered what would have happened if he had. His subconscious wanted one thing to happen, but what about her subconscious? Or reality? He was just a pawn the Fates pushed around their chess board. When would the queen take him? Or would he have taken the queen that day?

Blaise stirred, parting the curtains groggily. He had left Ginny's bed early this morning, when it was still dark. He had to wake Harry who was still in Blaise's bed, wrapped around her, hugging her like she was a stuffed niffler. They had been changing rooms every night and Draco, not wanting to get caught, would change back every morning. This way Harry's bed and Draco's bed looked slept in (because he went back to sleep after Draco sent him to his room) and if Blaise was having her way, he knew why Harry was so tired. It was the same reason he went to sleep after returning to his bed every morning.

He could see Blaise through a hole in his curtains pushing back a snarled tuft of hair. She was not a morning person. Agilely, he threw open the curtains bounced out of bed, determined to annoy her as much as possible.

"Out of bed, Blaise, we can't let you sleep in every day, especially not the day we're to go to Diagon Alley. Christmas shopping, you know. And you have a lot of presents to buy." He made sure to talk as rapidly as possible and to make his movements as quick as possible as he gathered his bag of toiletries. The other boys thought it was weird that he had a bag for his toiletries, but Draco made a point of looking his best, despite the fact he wouldn't be looking like himself for most of the day.

He had never seen the entire Order together. They came and went. During meetings, he would see Professor Snape but other than that, he didn't see him. Most of the members would do a double take when they saw him but they never made any snide comment to him. Everyone was risking their lives to work against Voldemort, but Draco's risk was much greater, greater even than Blaise's. And once he was set up appropriately, he would be an invaluable spy.

At breakfast, Molly buzzed about, dressed in Muggle clothing, a rather ugly floral print dress with a black sweater pulled over it. He was the first one down.

"What would you like, Draco? Eggs? Sausage? Toast?"
            "Some toast with raspberry jam, please." He settled down to eat as the others drifted to the table in various states of awareness.

"I'll need all your cloaks before we leave. I have to transfigure them all into sweaters or jeckams –"

"Jackets," Hermione corrected.

"Yes, jackets before we leave. I'll transfigure them back when we reach Diagon Alley."

"How are we going to get there?" Blaise asked, piling eggs on her fork.

"We'll be taking the Underground. Which reminds me…Harry, Hermione, I'll need you to handle the money. Merlin knows I can't make any sense of it." She scooped a pile of crumpled paper bills from out of her pocket and handed them to Hermione. Hermione smoothed and piled them neatly before sticking them into her pocket. They took the polyjuice potion directly after eating. Molly transfigured the jackets and Lupin stayed to watch the house and answer the door while they were in Diagon Alley.

Muggle London was colder than it had been before, but Draco thought that might be because the last time they had all worn their cloaks properly. He had never been on the Underground and while Blaise was simply ecstatic at nearly everything they saw or touched, he couldn't help but be amazed at the ingenuity of Muggles. The train rides were too loud to talk much, but they managed to make a general outline of who wanted to go where. Draco's only requirement was the Ginny have lunch with him. He planned to take her to his favorite restaurant, Wandsparks. They planned to split up into pairs so that they could shop for presents without having to sneak around the other person to do it. At every hour and a half they would meet back at Gringotts, the wizard bank which was located at the center of Diagon Alley, to swap partners.

He thought it odd to be entering Diagon Alley the Muggle way; he had always gone by portkey or Floo before. Harry had to point out the Leaky Cauldron to them before they saw it. Draco knew it was an anti-Muggle protection for you to have to know where the Leaky Cauldron was before you could enter it. It was like the entire wizarding world was secret keeper to Diagon Alley.

Mrs. Weasley returned their cloaks to their normal state and Draco set off with Blaise to Flourish and Blotts. She intended to get a book for Hermione and Draco thought he might do the same but Draco didn't know what kind of book Hermione liked; there had been a certain restraint on their relationship because of Draco's instinct to view her as a mudblood, although he had stopped calling her that and started chastising his mind whenever it brought up the term. Once Blaise had chosen her book, Draco led her to the store next door, a parchment and ink shop. Scouring the shelves, he found a make your own ink set, that had different colored ingredients for someone to brew their own ink with a special scent, color, and a book of charms to make the ink shimmer or turn into a rainbow or become invisible. He supposed it would have to do, although he had been sorely tempted to buy some taming hair-potion for her as a joke, but he didn't know how well she would take it.

Setting off with Harry and Mrs. Weasley next, they stopped off at a sweetshop where Draco purchased a giant box of assorted candies. He paid an extra sickle for the shopkeeper to include a few cockroach clusters. He knew Ron would appreciate the gesture; not only did Ron harbor a secret fondness for the disgusting sweets but Draco had discovered that he and Ron had very similar senses of humor. That was probably why they had been able to goad each other so well, he thought wryly.

At noon, he and Ginny separated from the group and he led her to Wandsparks. It wasn't an extremely posh restaurant, but what it lacked in appearance it made up for in the food. They were greeted and Draco requested outdoor seat, which they were led too. Their waitress came up a few moments later. Draco looked up and found a very beautiful Cho Chang looking back at him.

"Hello, I'm Cho and I'll be your waitress today. Is there anything I can get you to drink?"

"I'd like some sparkling raspberry juice," Draco replied.

"I think I'll have the same," Ginny said, her eyes twinkling in amusement. He knew why; they had been warned about meeting some Hogwarts students in Diagon Alley, but this was the first one he had met and he assumed it was the same for her too. To double the irony for himself, it was all Cho's fault he had become interested in the youngest Weasley. He felt oddly compelled to thank her.

"David," they had all picked names to answer to while out in Diagon alley, or rather others had picked names for them. Names like Draco, Blaise, and Hermione weren't very common and so they were bound to stick out using their real names, "I hope you're planning on paying for this because if your not, then I think we're going to have to jump the bill." Ginny swilled her drink around in her glass. He laughed.

"Don't worry, I was planning on being the perfect gentleman."

"I certainly hope not." Her twinkling eyes turned wickedly to rove over his body. He felt his little self stiffen at the prospect.

They joked throughout the meal (a shared platter of spaghetti which provoked them into kissing several times like the Lady and the Tramp, a Muggle movie he had seen once during his obsession with cartoons). Draco was amazed at how he never stopped flirting with Ginny, even when a more serious topic would wiggle into their conversation. He was more amazed at his little self's insistent yet slight pressure in his pants, which increased when Ginny playfully pressed her hand into his lap.

"Someone's a little excited," she said, pressing again.

"I wouldn't say a little…"

By the time an hour and a half was up, he wished it would start again, but he paid for the food and they stood to go. Ginny had eaten quite a bit, and he wondered how long it would be until her mother noticed her slightly protruding belly. Of course, the polyjuice potion hid that for now.

Next, he went off with Ron, who came to him with an amazing dilemma.

"I have no frigging clue what to get Hermione!" Ron looked about to faint.

"Whoa, hold on. Don't hyperventilate. What have you tried?"

"I've been looking all day, in book shops, jewelry shops, hell I even went to Madame Malkins but nothing seems right and this is our first Christmas together so I want everything to be perfect."

"You could try something unusual. Maybe you'll find something for Crookshanks," Draco had come to like the orange ball of ferocious fur, despite the extremely large quantities of fur he shed all over his clothes.

"But I don't want to get something for Crookshanks, I want to get something for Hermione."

"Well, I'd get jewelry but you said you'd already checked and I doubt you'd be able to afford it anyways," he smirked. Ron punched him in the arm. "But I need to go to the Apothecary for Harry's gift."

"What are you going to get him?"

"A few pickled eyeballs," Draco said with a grin.

"He'll kill you," Ron said, laughing.

"No, he'll treasure them for life. That or he'll look extremely awkward, stutter thanks, and hide them in a corner and hope that I'll forget them."

"Which you won't. That's priceless."

The Apothecary smelled horrible, but was brightly lit so you could see all the ingredients. Dried claws hung from the ceiling and jars of pickled somethings covered one wall. Draco examined the different pickled eyeballs while Ron wandered around the shop, stopping every once in a while. Draco picked two sheep eyeballs and called over the shop-keeper to fish them out for him. As the shopkeeper wrapped up his purchase (by putting them into fresh preservative in a small jar with an Unbreakable Charm on it), Draco went to find Ron, who stood and stared at a far filled with unicorn horns.

"They're beautiful," Draco said, snapping Ron out of his reverie.

"Yeah, but too expensive, I think."

"Maybe you could haggle."

"But they're unicorn horns. They're really hard to come by because the unicorn has to be dead already."

"Hermione would really like one, wouldn't she?"

"Yeah, but it's not the most romantic gift…"

"She won't care about that. She'll care that it's from you and she'll love it because it will be practical if she need to use the horn. And like you said, they're not that easy to come by…"

"Right, so if I can get him down to 16 galleons, I'll get it." Draco watched him march over to the shopkeeper, a determined set to his shoulders. He moved closer to them, pretending to check the various bits of Dragon the shopkeeper sold.

"You've got to be mad to suggest 13 galleons. I'll give you 18."

"15," Ron said firmly, "and 15 Sickles and 13 Knuts. Oh, and a brand new trick wand. That's my final offer." The shopkeeper looked torn between accepting Ron's offer, amusement at the wand, and the desire to get more for the horn. The shopkeeper picked up the wand held in Ron's out stretched hand and peered at the base to find the maker's name.

 "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, eh? Funny, I haven't seen this in their shop."

"It's one of their prototypes before they polished it to put in the shop. You'll notice it's a bit thicker then the shop one and they've got a different medium holding the magic. It doesn't work as well, but you're not going to buy one of these anywhere."

"Alright, you drive a hard bargain," the shopkeeper said after a moment, "I'll take your money and the wand. Merlin, imagine what I could get at auction for this in a couple of years," he muttered the last bit, but Draco, now having come up behind Ron, heard him clearly. Ron lay his money out on the table and placed the wand delicately on top. And the shopkeeper opened the jar, letting Ron choose the horn by levitating them all out of the jar. He then wrapped Ron's horn in soft paper before placing it gently in a wooden box.

"That was some bartering," Draco said as they exited the shop with their purchases.

"Yeah. But I've got more of those prototype wands then I know what to do with. Fred and George had already started mass producing those wands before they found the more stable magical medium. They gave them all to me for my birthday last year. Turned out to be a great present."

His hour and a half with Hermione were not as awkward as he expected it to be. They both needed gifts for Blaise and so he once more found himself inside Flourish and Blotts.

"Y'know, I'd really like to get her a Muggle book. Would you mind going into Muggle London?"

"Er…are we allowed to?"

"Of course we are, Ginny and I went to a fabric store earlier. And I can transfigure your cloak, but would you be alright with it?"

"Uh…sure, but let me get my present for Blaise first. It's right across the street." Draco led her across the cobbled street to the magical instrument shop where he bought Blaise a compact mirror. One side held a mirror, the other held foe glass. He had seen it in the shop window earlier that day but didn't want to buy it in front of Blaise.

He followed Hermione to the Leaky Cauldron where she transfigured his cloak and hers and they stepped out into Muggle London. It was just as busy as Diagon Alley and Hermione, seeming to know the area well, led him to an enormous book shop. Inside, the shop, which turned out to be more of a store filled with hundreds of books, smelled clean and the roaring crown outside barely filtered through the clean, glass windows.

"What kind of book do you think she'd like?"

"Well, maybe something on Muggles."

"Draco, we're in a muggle shop."

"Maybe something on witches then?"

"Witches from a Muggle perspective…that sounds like a viable option." She marched determined through the store, passing shelves whose subjects were written haphazardly on slips of paper and taped to the shelves. She spent what seemed like a half-hour running her fingers over the spines of the books as she decided. Draco wandered off, making sure to keep within her sight. He stumbled upon a book of comics, drawn to them by their likeness to the cartoons he had previously been obsessed with. What's more, they weren't moving like a wizard's comic book.

" The Beano?" Hermione questioned, looking over his shoulder. Draco jumped.

"Um…well I used to watch cartoons when I was little. I found this television in the trash and figured out how to make it work with magic because I used my mother's wand and…" he shoved it back on the shelf, "it's more trouble than it's worth, anyways."

"No, you should get it. Even if you can't take it home, you can still read it when you're at headquarters." Draco's hand drifted to stroke the spine of the book.

"I don't have any muggle money; I'll pay you pay once we get into Diagon Alley." Hermione grinned.

"Ok." She picked up the book and slid it on top of the two books she had gotten Blaise.

Hermione paid for the books and they reentered Diagon Alley. She didn't bother to transfigure their cloaks; they'd be leaving soon anyways and he paid her back while waiting in front of Gringotts. The others joined them and they walked, tired out from a day of shopping, back to headquarters. This time, upon approaching the house, he saw it standing shabby and imposing between number 11 and 13. The sun hovered above one of the numerous chimneys before they were swallowed in the darkness of the hallway.

"Would you like to walk in the gardens, Draco?" He had dropped his purchases and cloak unceremoniously on his bed before she walked in emptyhanded. The gardens were heated because it was a courtyard that was expanded magically to look like plains and plains of endless space. A warming charm had been placed over the entire area like a cloak, and as long as you didn't go too far from the walls, you didn't feel the cold.

The garden had been the last to be tamed, or so she said. It ran for acres and a wild unicorn herd roamed the plain where the grass was now, untamed, the yellow glow of sunlight highlighting the foals. But what need have unicorns to hide themselves under total protection?

            She walked ahead of him, holding his hand and gently tugging him along as if he were a somewhat reluctant puppy. He wasn't reluctant, simply awed.

She looked like a fairy queen, settled in the grass, the grass seeming to creep all over her because of her dress. He sat beside her out in the open, watching the unicorn herd. Her belly swelled with pride as the hair set the gold in her hair alight like a chandelier. Time stopped and held its breath for them as she touched him like a lover. Not someone who he fucked, but his lover: the one who loved him. She was all he saw, and she was all his to love in return.

He kissed her gently, like he would sometimes when he managed to reign control over his hormones. Kissing, they spread out on the grass to lie.

"GINNY WEASLEY! WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN ARE YOU DOING!" Mrs. Weasley stood in one of the doorways leading to the courtyard, a spoon whose end had been dipped in something red, like spaghetti sauce. It reminded Draco of blood.

"AND YOU!" she spun on Draco, who had now back away from Ginny. "TAKING ADVANTAGE OF MY DAUGHTER LIKE THAT! YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED, AFTER ALL WE'VE DONE! I'VE TREATED YOU LIKE A SON AND-" he voice stopped suddenly as she eyed Ginny peculiarly, sizing her up.

"Mom…" Ginny said, her voice very small, "I know this isn't the best time…but…I'm kind of…pregnant."

"KIND OF PREGNANT!" Mrs. Weasley roared, charging towards them. "KIND OF PREGNANT!?! HOW COULD YOU EVEN THINK OF – AND NOT EVEN BOTHER TO TELL ME? HOW ARE YOU GOING TO GET A HUSBAND NOW? NO ONE WANTS A GIRL WHO'S NOT A VIRGIN, NEVERMIND ALREADY WITH A CHILD? WHO'S THE FATHER? WHO?"

"I am," Draco murmured, wrapping his arms around Ginny. "Just the first time it happened, we didn't know…well, we didn't know a lot but I didn't know it was the wrong time and she didn't know it was me and…"

"How could this happen?" Molly's eyes were teary.

"I won't let anything happen to Ginny, or to the baby. I won't let my father touch it. I won't let him hurt us. I won't."

"A Malfoy…a Malfoy as a part of our family…" Mrs. Weasley seemed to have forgotten them, murmuring to herself.

"I promise – I promise I'll take good care of her. And our child. I don't want to leave you all burdened. I intend to take as much share in the responsibility."

"Draco," Ginny teased, resting her head upon his shoulder, "you're making it sound like it's something awful." Molly had turned to go and Draco watched Molly's retreating back. There was definite slump to her shoulders, Draco thought, but that would be amended soon.

"It's not. It's the best thing that ever happened to me. Besides you."

~~~~~

Aw…Isn't Draco the sweetest? He's just a fluffernutter sandwich. This chapter just shot out of me like it came from a canon, well…it did, lol. Canon. Hyuck. I crack myself up. Hehe, canon…crack…Whoo boy, I've had too much chocolate and not enough boyfriend.

Anime10473: I think Blaise knows how to handle Harry. Someone could barge in on Draco and Ginny, but Ron knows they've had sex so I don't think he's much inclined to kick Draco's sweet behind (oh how I'd love to sink my teeth into…) and someone could walk in on them, but that wasn't part of my original outline and it didn't fit with the rest so thank you for giving me the idea to entertain, even if I didn't implement it.

Adie: I'm so happy to make your day, but Draco can only go so long without having an orgasm and since masturbation is generally not something that's taken well and sex is good, I went for sex. (But if you want masturbation, then chapter 6 of Pigeons Plot in Secrecy, my other long story but not very good and highly unpolished, is for you).

Noelle: I am constantly writing, but whether it's in the next chapter is kind of arbitrary. Sometimes I get these strokes (heh heh, strokes. Dear lord I need my boyfriend) of brilliance for something further down the line. For example, you know that conversation with Tonks? I had written that when I was writing chapter 4. But thanks for letting me know you were in dire need of another chapter!

sakhara291: I'd call "intimate description of sexual acts" porn. Therefore "my writing"=porn. I'm flattered that you have begun to obsess over my story, or rather when it is updated.

Dracomio: Thank you, fair Dracomio, I hope by writing doesn't suck because then I would be in dire straights. Mainly because I would be distraught that my writing sucked. Thanks for reviewing.

Mina: Your wish is my command. ::nods head like Genie on that show from the 50s/60s/70s (pick one)::

Well now that I have answered my fanmail – well, I like to pretend I'm famous and that it's my fan mail – I shall retire and go read/write some porn. And for those of you who asked about the juicy stuff (hehe juicy…pussy) I'll e-mail you when it's ready. Until then, be content with my desire to finish the story (because I actually have an ending, and what an ending it is…). I love you all.