I really don't know why I started this fic. I don't even know if it's been read. All I know is that I had this  really weird dream and it dealt with this plot. So I'm going to get this darkfic out of my system as quickly as I  possibly can.

I'm bumping up the rating too, possibly. I'm changing the summary too, since I really don't know if I can  summarize it yet. It's probably one of the most outlandish things I have EVER written, so I'm a little bit  weirded out.

I know I can write okayish things. This is something that I think is probably not that okay, but it was still  worth it to write. I never could quite find my darkside, so here it is. waves lighter

I'm such a geek.

Anyway, continuing on with the story takes us back into the past to the day after Ginny found out who her Mother  really was. And some more stuff. And, more first person confusion.

- - - - -

Chapter 2

To Love and To Dishonour

- - - - -

I wasn't going to look at him. He kept staring at me as I attempted to hang up the same set of robes time and  time again. It was as though he were expecting me to fall apart, but I couldn't.

I was numb. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to even begin to fathom what Father told me.

I was not a true Weasley. Well, half of me was. The other half belonged to the wife of the man my Father hated  the most. No wonder he hadn't said anything in so many years. I wouldn't have ever told my children even if they  were on their deathbed.

I pressed my lips together and caught his reflection in the mirror inside my closet. He was still looking at me.  "What do you want me to say?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"I don't know," came his response. "I don't know if I want to comfort you or just... I don't know."

I finally straightened the closet before closing the door. "I'd understand if you were freaked out," I said, my  voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you, Ginny," he said simply. "I'm not going to make this a big deal because it really isn't."

"How can you say that?" I asked, my heart dropping. "I... I don't know how I can deal with this, and you are just  going to sit there and act like you do not care?"

"You know I care," he said, leaning over and taking my hand. "I just... I don't know what to say. The fact is,  you're related to the Malfoys, and that's something that I'd consider worse than death."

"I'd understand it if you'd want to walk away," I said, lifting my head bravely. "I'd know that you'd care but if  it's too hard..." I turned back and lowered my forehead so that it touched the cold, wooden door.

His hand touched my shoulder. "Ginny," he said, his voice full of emotion, "do you really think that less of me?  I would never turn my back on you. I'm going to be here by your side until the end of this. You know I'll stand  by you, right?"

I was crying again. As a tear dribbled down my cheek, I turned back to him. His eyes widened when he saw the  display of emotion on my face. "Oh, Harry," I whispered. His hand came up and touched my cold face. No matter how  cold and numb I felt, he was always there to touch my life, in more ways than one. Every time he touched me, I  felt a spark of electricity soar through me. He bent down and kissed me gently. I deepened the kiss, pressing my  mouth to his. When he pulled away, he was smiling.

"How's my girl now?" he asked, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"I'm much better now, thank you," I said. He took my hands and led me over to my bed. I laid down, feeling  exhausted. Mum's funeral had only been yesterday. Or... Molly's... It was a little confusing to think about.

I felt his arms encircle and tighten around me. I smiled as I closed my eyes, setting my head against his  shoulder. It felt much safer here, lost in his arms, where my mind would wander away from the gathering darkness.  My fingernails lightly traced circles on his arm. "I'm so lucky to have you," I whispered.

His arms tightened further. "And you'll never have to worry about losing me," he whispered into my back. I set my  hand down and covered his arms with my own, closing my eyes again.

Within a few minutes, we were both asleep.

- - - - -

I stood outside the door, listening hard. When Ginny had run to her room, Harry had immediately followed her. I  had trailed behind, but from the sounds of muffled cries and sniffling, I assumed Harry was doing his best to  comfort her.

And here I was, feeling like an idiot, standing outside Ginny's room and eavesdropping on a private conversation.

It wasn't the first conversation I'd spied on. I'd been listening to them ever since Harry had arrived at our  house for the funeral.

Behind me, I could hear footsteps and backed away from her bedroom. When Fred and George appeared, I moved to  intercept them. "How are you two holding up?" I asked heavily.

Fred and George stared at me with watery eyes. Of all of the brothers I had, and even Ginny, they seemed the most  upset about Mum's brutal death.

It had been just after midnight when Professor McGonagall had come and woke me up from a deep sleep. After she'd  collected Ginny, we'd both been ushered to Professor Dumbledore's office. It was then that he informed us our  Mother had been killed in her duties with the Order.

Ginny had immediately fallen to pieces. Watching her cry over this troubling news was hard enough. But then came  the helplessness. Dumbledore had decided that we were old enough to hear every gruesome detail. He had described  explicitly to us what had happened to her.

She'd been killed when she led her group of Wizards into an abandoned building to find the bodies that had been  massacred in a secret meeting. The Death Eaters had been waiting for them. Molly weasley, my mother, had been  killed in the first volley.

Dad appeared via floo powder moments later. Dumbledore recounted the story with the saddest eyes before sending  Ginny and I off to pack. I held back, wanting to determine whether or not we should let Harry know when suddenly  I heard Dumbledore tell our Father something that made my blood chill.

"I know that Ginevra wasn't Molly's daughter," Dumbledore said heavily, "but you must treat her as if she were.  This is a very delicate situation right now. It might be best if she didn't know the truth."

I had fallen back, my jaw dropping in shock. What in blazes did Dumbledore mean by that? I hurried quickly down  the steps and back to the dormitory before either one of them realized I'd heard the truth.

Once I'd gathered a few things together, my gaze fell on Harry. I longed to tell him about Mum, but I held back.  He and Ginny had been going together for months now, since Sirius had been brought back.

The truth was, I was jealous of all the time Harry and Ginny were spending together. Sure, Hermione was still my  other best friend and we really enjoyed each other's company, but I felt like Harry had all of Ginny's  affections.

I held my tongue as I tiptoed out of the room. Ginny was waiting for me in the common room, her eyes wide. "Did  you tell him?" she asked softly, hopefully.

I didn't know whether or not I should lie to her. If I didn't, there was a good chance she'd go back upstairs to  wake him. I forced myself to nod and gave him a tight smile. "He said he'll see us tomorrow."

Ginny's face visibly relaxed.

I hoped that Professor Dumbledore would tell Harry in the morning. Because I really didn't have the patience to  do it myself. And watching Ginny pine away for him was almost disgusting.

"We should go," I said quietly. "Come on."

Ginny gave one last lingering look upstairs before following me. "Maybe we should tell Hermione," she said, her  voice dropping. "She would want to know."

"Dumbledore will tell them both," I said, my voice becoming firmer. "We should go. Dad's waiting for us."

Dad was indeed waiting for us back in Professor Dumbledore's office. He glanced at us anxiously before he handed  me the floo power. "You first, Ron."

I disappeared first, arriving at home.

Inside, I found myself looking at a cold reminder we lived in dangerous times. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and  George were all standing in the small Kitchen, all looking deeply troubled. Ginny suddenly spilled out behind me  with a tiny gasp. I helped her to her feet and she looked around, her face going white.

Seeing our brothers there looking as though the world had come to an end made it that much more real.

Dad appeared behind us and ushered us both forward. "Now," he said as we all sat down, "I need to tell you what  will happen from here."

"Why are we at home and not at Grimmauld Place?" Ginny asked curiously.

Dad held up his hand. "Because your Mother loved this place," he said in a thick voice. "She would have wanted to  be remembered here."

He was right, I decided. I could tell that my brothers thought so too. Ginny still looked deeply troubled.

And that conversation between Dad and Dumbledore was still in my head. Biting my lip, I tried to catch Dad's eye,  but he was looking at Ginny with deepest concern. "Ginevra," he said softly, reaching for her hand.

"It'll be okay, Ginny," Percy said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Looking around, she sniffled. "I wish Harry was here."

That's how it began. That's the reason why I started listening to their conversations. I had been the first  person she had turned to when she was down. Now it was Harry Potter, my best friend. I was losing my little  sister to someone I considered my brother. It was mortifying and yet... it made me sad and reluctant to let go.

I had gone right to Dad and told him that I'd overheard what he and Dumbledore had discussed. I don't know what  had possessed me to do so, but I felt he should tell Ginny the truth.

The day after my Mother's funeral, he did.

And Ginny had fallen to pieces, once again, turning to Harry.

Even though we were both seventeen, it was almost heartbreaking to realize that my little sister was lost from me  forever. I knew I was being ridiculous because I had Hermione, but it was still stupid to think about.

I didn't even think that maybe Harry really did love her. I could tell he did.

And Ginny loved him, too.

I followed Fred and George back to their old room. Fred closed the door while George sat on his old bed, looking  as though all hope had been lost.

"I didn't know any part of me could feel this bad," Fred said, glancing at me. "I never thought I'd feel this bad  about anything."

"Mum died a hero," I said quietly. "She died in the blaze of glory we always thought she would."

"Doesn't make it any less hard," George said softly. "I... I miss her."

"So do I," Fred admitted. "Do you remember all of those rows we used to have? Over the Wizarding Wheezes?"

George smiled sadly. "I really do."

It was so hard to sit there and listen to Fred and George talk about the times when they'd brassed Mum off the  most. Half of me wanted to run away and the other half forced me to sit rooted to the spot.

"I wonder if this is half of what Harry feels everyday," Fred said, glancing at the closed door with something  like pity. "Both of his parents are dead. He really was orphaned."

This was too much. First Ginny idolized Harry. And now Fred and George, selfless as they are, were talking about  Harry and the effects my Mother's death would cause him.

I knew I was being ridiculous, but the next thing I realized I was doing was exploding. "DOES IT EVEN MATTER WHAT  HARRY THINKS? OUR MOTHER IS DEAD! DEAD! SHE'S DEAD AND SHE'S NEVER COMING BACK!"

Fred and George blinked away their tears and stared at me as though I'd grown a second head. "You're right," Fred  finally said. "You're absolutely right."

I drew in a sharp breath and stood up. "Why does it matter, anyway?" I shouted, before opening the door and  slamming it hard behind me. Once I was on the other side, I felt my own emotions suffocating me.

Of course Harry would be the perfect person to deal with. He'd always thought of my Mother as a second Mom to  him. He adored her. This had to be as hard on him as it was on everyone else.

But Fred and George had neglected to mention the fact that our Mother wasn't Ginny's. She was actually the  daughter of Narcissa Malfoy.

A look of sheer disgust crossed my face as I made my way up to the room that Harry and I shared. I opened the  door and was greeted with a surprise. Hermione was sitting on my bed, cradling a photograph in her arms. "Hi,"  she said softly.

My breath caught in my throat. I opened my arms and she ran into them, holding onto me, even when I felt like I  could black out. I still hadn't attempted a breath. "Oh, Ron!" she cried as she sobbed into my shirt.

I held onto her, trying to force the dark thoughts away. "Hermione," I whispered, pulling her back slightly.  "When did you get here?"

"About an hour ago," Hermione replied. She had been there for my Mother's funeral the day before, but had  returned to Hogwarts to take an exam this morning.

This meant that she hadn't yet heard the news of Ginny's parentage. I gently took her hand and led her back to my  bed. "Hermione," I began, squeezing her hand hard, "there's something you need to know about Ginny."

"What?" she asked, seeing the alarm in my eyes. "Is she all right? Is she dead?"

I shook my head no. I couldn't even begin to form the words. I felt like I was betraying my sister by dishing out  to my best friend, who happened to be my girlfriend. I looked away, ashamed.

"Ron," Hermione said, her hand touching my cheek. "You can tell me anything, really. Anything."

I knew I could trust her, I decided. I just wished I could trust myself to make this right decision.

I opened my mouth. And told her everything.

- - - - -

I woke up early the next morning, still in Harry's arms. I gently pried them apart and he rolled over sleepily. I  moved to the bathroom and quickly showered, enjoying the hot spray of water on my tight muscles.

I moved downstairs, trying not to make a sound. Part of me wanted to go back to bed, but the other part of me was  starving. I hadn't eaten anything since my Father had told me that Molly hadn't been my Mother.

As I rummaged on one of the shelves, my eyes fell on a photograph. It was the picture that had appeared in The  Daily Prophet when we'd been on vacation in Egypt. Tears fell freely from my eyes as I touched her lovely face.  She looked so much like me, and yet I wasn't her true daughter.

I set the frame aside with a heavy sigh and returned to the cabinet, pulling down a sack of oats. After making  myself a quick bowl of oatmeal, I noticed someone was sitting in the living room.

It was Dad.

I moved to talk to him, my bowl in hand. "Dad?" I asked softly.

He awoke with a start. "Ginny," he said, his voice exhausted. "How are--"

"Don't ask me how I am," I said quietly, sitting down. I began to stir my oatmeal with great interest. "Just tell  me this... when were you planning on telling me I was adopted?"

"Your Mother and I discussed it and we decided we wouldn't tell you until one of us passed away," he said,  running a tired hand over his weary face.

"Are you talking about my fake mother or my real mother?" I asked coldly.

He seemed to start at that. "I meant Molly," he said quickly, brushing this information aside.

"Didn't you ever think that maybe I'd want to meet my real mother?" I asked him sharply as I took a bite of my  breakfast.

"It never crossed my mind, no," he said.

"She gave birth to me, Dad. I deserved to know about it a long time before you would have told me. My Mother is  nothing but a ruthless murderer and you didn't have enough respect for me to tell me the truth." I was shouting  now, but I no longer cared. I could wake the entire house. Let them feel my wrath and my fury. In my mind, they  all deserved it.

"No," he said, sounding angry now. "Keep your voice down, Ginny. You'll wake the entire house."

"You can't talk to me like that," I said angrily, dropping my spoon into my bowl. My jaw was set and I could tell  my eyes were blazing. My face felt like it was on fire. "You may be my Father, but you're also a liar. You didn't  tell me anything because you thought I couldn't handle it!"

"And I'd be right," Dad said, his face white. "Please, try to understand, Ginny..."

"No," I said. I had heard enough. I smacked down my bowl angrily and stood up. "You're not my Father. I can't  even look at you. I can't imagine why any of your precious sons would. So... I'm the first Weasley girl in how  many generations? Three? No wonder... Molly Prewitt wasn't my mother. Narcissa Black is. And right now, I feel  like I need to talk to my Mother."

"Don't you dare go to her," Dad said, his face completely devoid of all color now. "Don't you walk away from  this!"

"Get used to it," I hissed back as I pulled my robes on angrily. "I have a right to know where I came from! And  if you won't tell me, then why the hell should I stay here?"

I did the next most unimaginable thing.

I stormed over to the fireplace, grabbing my pinch of floo powder. "Malfoy Manor!" I roared as the green flames  sprung up from the little ash and soot remaining. "Tell Harry where I went," I said to him. I could see Ron, Fred  and George coming downstairs behind him and completely ignored him. "Tell him I went to find my Mother."

The last thing I remembered were the flames swallowing me and the distinct feeling of spinning very quickly until  I fell out of the grate.

Gasping, I leapt to my feet and looked around.

"Where am I?" I wondered, seeing all of nothing in the dark room. I leaned behind me, feeling for a light switch.  There wasn't one.

"Draco! The rest of the fruit is downstairs! Get it for me!" It was a distinct female voice.

I could hear footfalls outside the door. Seeing I had no place to hide, I pressed my back against the wall as a  door opened and light spilled in, admitting Draco Malfoy. He was muttering as he switched on the light. He moved  quickly to the pantry on the other side of the room. I dared a step out, but the boards creaked beneath my feet.

"Who's there?"

Draco's voice sounded terrified. Before I could take a second step, he glanced out. His eyes widened when he saw  me standing there. "So..." he said, smirking. "So..."

I felt as cold as the blizzard raging outside. This had to be the worst Christmas holiday I had ever had. As he  glanced me up and down, I felt frozen to my spot. "Um... hi..." I said weakly.

He crossed the room in two paces, seizing my arm. "What the hell are you doing here, Weasley?"

There were more footfalls as someone sighed heavily out in the hall. "Draco, what is taking you so--?" Her voice  cut off when she saw Draco and a girl next to him. "What... what is this?"

"I'm trying to figure out the same thing," Draco sneered, glancing at her. "Why is Ginny Weasley in my house at  this particular moment?" He swung his gaze back to his mother. He was stunned to see she'd gone very white. "Mom?  Mom!?"

"It's my fault," Ginny whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the older woman. "You know..."

The woman nodded.

And then she fainted.

- - - - -

And the best is yet to come. In the next chapter, Harry finds Ginny's grave. And Draco learns that the Weasley is  actually his half-sister.