Author's Note: I'd like to say a personal thank-you to Lady Rhiyana for leaving such a nice review of the Prologue. I would have sent her a personal e-mail, but I didn't have her address. I'm thrilled because Lady Rhiyana wrote one of my favorite Ginny/Draco stories. It's called "Unforgiven" and it's really marvelous! It's here on . . . go check it out, if you haven't already.
And now on with the show:
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If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!
From the poem, "If" by Rudyard Kipling
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Chapter 1: If
Two weeks after the wedding, Draco walked into the parlour of Malfoy Manor to find his mother and his Uncle Severus deep in conversation. They abruptly stopped talking when they saw him, a rather guilty look on their faces. Draco knew immediately that they'd been talking about him and he paused to study Narcissa Malfoy. At age 44, she was still a stunner: her ice-blonde hair was swept up in an elegant twist, and her porcelain skin was set off by deep violet, designer robes. Her large blue eyes widened when she saw him.
"No need to stop on my account. Hello, Mother . . . Uncle Severus," Draco said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
"Draco, dear. How are you, love?" His mother reached up to kiss him on the cheek and ruffled his long, unbound hair. It was the same icy colour as her own. "And Severus is not your uncle," she reminded him for the thousandth time. "He's my third cousin--"
"Twice removed, yes I know that, thank you. But he'll always be 'Uncle Severus' to me." Draco gave Severus a fond grin.
"He also happens to be standing right here," Severus answered dryly. "Your mother and I were just discussing the implications of the Prophecy."
"I'm very worried, sweetheart," said Narcissa.
"That's a first," Draco muttered under his breath. He looked at his mother and his face brightened artificially. "There's no need to be worried. Uncle Severus and I will figure it out. Why don't you run along now and do something frivolous, like planning your next party, or fixing your hair again? Or having another affair, perhaps?"
His mother had the audacity to look hurt. "There's no need to be flippant with me, young man. I was just concerned about you, that's all."
Draco gave her an apologetic smile. "That's very sweet of you, Mum. But like I said, there's no need to worry. I'll be fine."
Narcissa looked doubtfully at Severus, who nodded in reassurance. "I'll handle it, Narcissa," he told her.
"Well, I do have someone to meet for lunch," she said absently.
"That's it, run along, I'll be just fine with Uncle Severus."
Narcissa gave her son an appraising look before gliding gracefully from the room. At the doorway she turned, however, pausing to speak.
"Are you going to see that Weasley girl today?" The scorn was evident in her voice.
"Yes I am and her name is Ginny. It's short for Ginevra. And I see her most everyday now." Draco's eyes narrowed as he mentally dared his mother to say anything more.
Narcissa gave a delicate sniff. "Oh I suppose she's lovely enough, but she's just a common Weasley, Draco. You can do better than her."
Draco barely held his temper. "Oh, you mean better like Lucius Malfoy? Ah yes, you really know how to pick 'em, Mother," he said sarcastically. "You're the last person I'd go to for advice on my love life."
His mother flushed gracefully before turning tail and silently exiting the room.
Severus shook his head. "You really should treat your mother with more respect, young man."
"Hmmm . . . I don't recall you treating your own mother with respect."
"Do as I say, not as I do," murmured Severus, his lips twitching in a subtle smile.
Draco flounced on a nearby couch. "She hasn't done anything to earn my respect, Uncle. She has no right to put Ginny down. Lucius was the worst husband and father. You'll recall that he was a wife-beater and a child molester, not to mention all the murder and mayhem. At least I escaped the molestation and murder, but he made our lives a living hell and Mother did nothing to change that. Good riddance to him, at least."
"Your mother did the best she could, under the circumstances," said Severus in her defence.
"Perhaps, perhaps," Draco conceded reluctantly. "So . . . let's talk about more pleasant things. How's Hermione? Is she still the Barf Queen? Last time I saw her, she was singing to a toilet. It was very disgusting."
"Her morning sickness has completely abated, but I'll be sure to convey your concern to her," Severus snarled.
Draco grinned at getting a good snarl out of his uncle. "I'm just teasing, Severus. You never could take a good tease. And if I may change the subject, what were you and Mother really talking about?"
"Well," said Severus, beginning to pace. "Aside from talking about the Prophecy, your mother mentioned your upcoming training."
"My training? For what?"
"Draco," said Severus in exasperation. "You can't just walk into Camlann Castle and expect to take over as Prince of Avalon! It's been over three centuries since wizarding Britain has seen a monarch . . . there is much to prepare before you can rule."
"I suppose. I didn't think about that when I accepted," said Draco. " So what will my training entail? I already have the basics down." He lifted his chin and gave Severus a haughty sneer. "We- are -not- amused," he said in an exaggerated drawl. He grinned. "See? There's nothing to it."
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. He was always pinching it after a few minutes in Draco's company. "This is precisely what I'm talking about. You have no idea, do you, what it takes to govern. Let me give you a demonstration of what you're in for with your training. Come here, you foolish boy."
Draco obediently rose and stood next to Severus.
With that, Severus Snape whipped out his wand and whacked Draco in the back of the head with it.
"Stand up straight!" he barked.
"Ow!"
"The Prince of Avalon does not say, 'Ow'! You're royalty now! Posture is important! Stand up straight and repeat after me: The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain."
Draco gaped at him. "What? That's my training? And why does that Spain thing sound so familiar?"
"A monarch never asks stupid questions!" Severus roared, whacking Draco with his wand again.
"Stop that! Stop hitting me!"
"No, you clueless boy, you're supposed to say, 'Stop it at once! How dare you strike the Royal Heir? Guards, seize him!' " Severus eyed Draco critically.
"You certainly have a lot to learn and that's only the beginning."
"Oh joy," said Draco under his breath. "So are you training me? Because if so, I'll just commit suicide now and get it over with."
Severus chuckled. "No . . . there's someone who is much more qualified than I. Have you ever heard of the House of Gwynedd?"
Draco frowned. "I remember studying Gwynedd in our History of Magic class. Ol' Binns harped on that subject for a quite a while. I could hardly stay awake for any of it. Doesn't Gwynedd have something to do with King Arthur? His son Mordred ruled Gwynedd, if I recall."
Severus nodded. "At least your education wasn't a complete waste. Gwynedd was an ancient village in Wales. The House of Gwynedd served the monarchs of wizarding Britain for centuries. They passed on ancient secrets, knowledge and history to the royal heirs, but after the last King of Avalon fell in 1698, they disappeared into obscurity. Nobody at the Ministry was even sure that anyone was left from the family. Fortunately, they found someone who is uniquely qualified to train you. His name is Eldorf of Gwynedd.
"His name is Eldorf? I have to take my training from a bloke named Eldorf?"
"Trust me," said Severus. "By the time he is finished with you, you will have learned to respect the very name of Eldorf." He gave Draco a sadistic smile.
Draco shuddered.
It was definitely time to change the subject again. "So . . . what else were you talking to Mother about?" he asked casually.
"I told you, she asked me to stop by to talk about Sybil Trelawney's prophecy. She's very shaken about it, especially that part about the House of Malfoy falling."
Draco approached a pitcher of orange juice that was sitting on a nearby table. "Surely you don't believe anything that looney Trelawney says," said Draco as he poured himself a glass. He picked up another glass and held it up to Severus, who shook his head.
"Sybil Trelawney may be borderline fraudulent, but that prophecy had a ring of truth to it," Severus said, his voice sounding worried. "It seemed genuine."
Draco looked at him in amusement. "Maybe she made a mistake," he said hopefully. "She was pretty drunk. Perhaps instead of 'The only hope is the One who Sees', she meant 'The only hope is the One who Tees' . . . maybe I'll be saved by a Muggle golfer." He quickly warmed to the subject matter: "Or maybe she meant 'The only hope is the One with Fleas' . . . that could mean Sirius Black, you know. Perhaps we should warn him that he's been named in a prophecy."
Severus looked at Draco as if he'd gone completely mad. "It's hard to believe that you are the best hope of the wizarding world," he snapped in irritation.
"Well honestly, Severus! You can't take anything that fruitcake says seriously . . . no pun intended, of course."
"Of course," said Severus dryly. "Nevertheless, that 'fruitcake' has been known to get a prophecy or two right. It makes me uneasy."
"There's nothing we can do about it, at least not now. I promise I'll be careful . . . and I'll be sure to avoid golf courses, not that I even know what they look like." Draco gave his uncle a cheeky grin. "Perhaps Aunt Hermione can show me a picture. It's helpful having a Muggle-born relative around."
Severus grimaced at Draco calling Hermione his 'aunt' and gave an exaggerated sigh before answering. "Yes, you're correct, there's nothing to do about it now. You'll just have to keep a close eye out for anything unusual." He pulled out his pocket watch and frowned. "I have a meeting with Professor Wentworth at Oxford and I'm running late. Do try to stay out of trouble until I get back." As he approached the fireplace to throw in a pinch of Floo powder, he could hear Draco muttering behind him.
"The only hope is the One with Cheese . . . no, that's probably not it. Hmmmm, think think . . . The only hope is the One who Pees . . .no, that's just plain gross . . . what else? The only hope -- "
Severus couldn't get away fast enough.
Eldorf had his work cut out for him.
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Hermione was breathless with anticipation. "Did you bring it?"
"Yeah, I got it."
Grabbing Ginny by the arm, Hermione pulled the redhead into the bedroom. "Well? What are you waiting for? Out with it!" she demanded.
"Are we alone?" Ginny shifted her eyes furtively, checking for eavesdroppers.
"Thankfully, yes. Severus is out for the afternoon. He'd have a fit if he knew you brought it into the house."
Looking around, Ginny took stock of the bedroom and whistled in admiration. "Oh, Hermione! Your bedroom is beautiful! It's so cheerfully bright and the colour scheme is just gorgeous." She giggled. "Severus must hate it."
"You have no idea," muttered Hermione, thinking of their first marital fight. She impatiently held out her hand. "So? Let's see it! I'm dying to take a look."
Ginny pulled out a copy of the latest Witch Weekly and Hermione squealed in delight when she saw the cover.
"Oh, oh!" she gasped. "The look on Draco's face . . . it's priceless!" She howled in mirth.
Ginny doubled over, letting out peals of laughter. She was on the verge of hysterics. "Every time I look at it I can't stop laughing," she said with tears in her eyes. "And Harry looks like he just drank a glass of Bubotubar pus right before they snapped the picture!"
Two heads, one bright, the other dark, bent together to get a closer look:
The cover of Witch Weekly was divided between two pictures: On the left was a picture of Draco Malfoy, his arms folded against his chest as he casually leaned against a doorway. His blonde hair was loosely tied back, and his beautiful silver eyes stood out prominently. His stance said, "I'm cool beyond belief and waaaaay out of your league, but if you want to drool over me, you may do so at this time." He waggled an eyebrow suggestively and his hand would periodically smooth an imaginary stray hair out of his face, in a dramatic, sweeping gesture.
Harry's picture was on the right side of the magazine cover and he was dressed in his Quidditch glory, leaning forward against his broom. He looked boyish and charming but he had a smile on his face that looked suspiciously like a grimace. His dark hair was sticking out in marvelous unruliness and his stance said, "This is stupid and embarrassing, and I don't understand the fuss, but if you want to take my picture, by all means go ahead." His emerald eyes twinkled with good humour, though his image squirmed uncomfortably.
The caption at the bottom of the cover screamed, "Who is the sexiest bachelor in wizarding Britain: Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy? YOU DECIDE! VOTE NOW!" Draco's picture would pause every now and then to stick his tongue out at Harry, whose image would then roll its eyes and wave its hand in irritation as if swatting away a particularly annoying insect.
Hermione read the caption and started snickering again. "Oh, this is too funny! Severus is bound to find out, though. He's been counseling Draco about his royal future, and when he gets a load of this, Draco may not have a future."
Ginny nodded in agreement. "I suppose Draco is doing this because he knows once he's crowned Prince of Avalon, he'll have advisors and image consultants telling him what to do and say in public. He's dreading it, you know. I believe this is a pre-emptive strike. He'll never get to do something like this again, I'm sure."
"I'm glad I lived to see it, though," said Hermione. "I'll be teasing them both about it well into old age." She regarded Ginny thoughtfully and asked, "Would you like some tea?"
Ginny shook her head as she sat cross-legged on Hermione and Severus' bed. Hermione noticed a slight frown on Ginny's face.
"Is something wrong? Are you and Draco alright?"
Ginny sighed. "Draco and I are doing fine, for now, anyway. It's just that I really don't understand all this royalty stuff, Hermione. Draco has tried to explain it, but honestly? I thought that Harry would have been the one chosen to be the new prince, not Draco."
Hermione sat next to Ginny on the bed. "I suspect that you don't understand it because wizarding Britain hasn't had a royal ruler in centuries," she said. "Those of us who are Muggle-born have an easier time understanding it as Muggle Britain has been subject to a monarchy for over a thousand years. Of course, its role has drastically changed since its inception. Perhaps it would be helpful if you understood how the royal system came to be in the first place."
Ginny braced herself for an academic lecture.
"The system of kings as rulers actually evolved during prehistoric times when people banded together in small groups," began Hermione, in her best schoolmarm voice. "This was in order to increase their chances of survival. Each of these small groups of people was led by the strongest warrior, who, by virtue of his warring and hunting skills became the chieftain. Chieftains, in turn, secured their place of domination by choosing women as mates who could give them strong sons in order to increase the numbers in their tribes. It was all about strength, virility and domination. Over time, tribes grew in numbers and conquered each other, becoming even larger and their chieftains eventually became kings. Thus, the modern monarchial system of government was formed."
Ginny bit her lip thoughtfully. "So, if I'm understanding you correctly, in the beginning, only the strongest and most virile ruled as kings." Hermione nodded as Ginny smiled at the thought. Draco certainly was strong and virile. But she was still brimming with questions.
"So how did the system survive into modern times?" she asked.
"Oh, it was a matter of breeding and tradition. Strong kings produced strong sons, or so the thinking went, and because the King was so physically and intellectually powerful, he passed down the right to rule to his children. It made a certain amount of biological sense and it was accepted into the culture in many parts of the world. Just about every nation of the Old World has a history of kings and royalty as a form of government. The traits of the fathers are supposedly passed down to their children and thus the system perpetuated itself."
Ginny shivered. Thankfully, Draco did not inherit the traits of his father.
"But Hermione, we're no longer a bunch of ancient tribes. Why is the monarchy so important to some wizards in this day and age?" she asked.
"Good question! I suppose the answer has to do with tradition, like I said." Hermione grinned at Ginny, obviously relishing the history lesson.
"Voldemort exploited the arrogance of the Ancient Houses and fostered the idea that they were all biologically and magically superior to Muggle-born wizards," Hermione continued. "You see, in order to remain in the wizarding aristocracy, those in the Ancient Houses had to marry only purebloods like themselves. They believed that because of their history and breeding, they had the right to hold positions of power, as had been the tradition since the beginning of recorded time. While not all wizards and witches of the Ancient Houses approved of Voldemort's methods, most believe that the right to rule is something that is biologically passed down. Many of them abhor the democratic system of government, such as that of the Ministry of Magic, where officials are either elected or appointed to their posts. The Ministry does not recognize the right to govern simply by virtue of one's family ancestry."
Hermione paused.
"Are you beginning to see why Harry would never have been accepted as the Prince of Avalon by the Ancient Houses?"
"Because his mother was Muggle-born," answered Ginny, realization dawning.
Hermione nodded. "And Draco comes from a long line of aristocracy. His family can be traced back to some of the first kings of wizarding Britain. If that weren't enough, he's a hero in the fight against the Dark Lord and thus he's a hero to Muggle-born wizards as well. In fact, Draco is a link between the Ancient Houses and everybody else in wizarding Britain. The Ancient Houses recognize his right to rule by virtue of his bloodline. Those with Muggle ancestry recognize his right to rule by virtue of his bravery and heroism in the War. If Voldemort had prevailed during the Final Battle, every Muggle-born wizard would have been wiped out of existence. Draco fought to prevent that. And now --
"And now he's earned the right to rule as Monarch, as far as most everyone in wizarding Britain is concerned," finished Ginny.
Hermione frowned, "Yes, well . . . he's also got the blessing of the Ministry of Magic. Those in the present government have been worried that the Ancient Houses would rebel on their own, now that Voldemort has been defeated. The Ancient Houses need to feel like they got something out of this war and having a new monarch is a way to placate them. Draco was the logical choice."
Ginny thought about this for a moment. "But obviously not all wizards of the Ancient Houses believe in their own magical superiority. Your husband comes from the House of Snape, yet he happily married a Muggle-born witch."
"That's because Uncle Severus is a barmcake," drawled a familiar voice.
Two feminine heads snapped up in unison as Ginny and Hermione stared at the doorway. In a remarkable imitation of his magazine cover, Draco Malfoy was leaning against the doorframe, a look of wicked mischief on his face. A house-elf was standing next to him, wringing his hands in agitation.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Snape," the little elf squeaked. "I told Lord Malfoy to wait for you in the parlour, but he insisted on coming to find you." He glanced at Draco in disapproval.
"That will be all, Loopy," said Draco, giving the elf a dismissive wave.
"It's Lippy, sir."
"Right then. That will be all, Lippy sir."
Ginny suppressed a snort of laughter, while Hermione just frowned at him.
Draco walked purposefully into the bedroom and pulled Ginny roughly into his arms. Before she could make a sound he reached down and gave her a long, delicious kiss. As always when Draco Malfoy kissed her, Ginny felt her bones melting to the floor. The warm kiss seemed to stretch for an eternity before they heard Hermione clearing her throat.
"Do you mind? I'm pregnant and nauseated enough as it is."
Draco started laughing as he reluctantly broke the kiss. "We'll have to save it for later, sweetness," he murmured softly to Ginny.
"It's not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here, Draco?" interrupted Hermione.
"I actually came looking for Ginny at the Burrow as I knew it was her day off," he said, giving Ginny a wide smile. "Your mum said you were here. By the way, what were you two talking about, hmmmm? You seemed deep in conversation."
"Hermione was just giving me a history lesson."
Draco arched an eyebrow. "That sounds unbelievably uninteresting but right now we have other things to worry about." He shifted uncomfortably. "There's no easy way to tell you this, but I'm afraid that I was followed here and erm . . . well . . . there's a hoard of paparazzi surrounding your house, Hermione. I couldn't shake them."
"You brought the press to my house?" said Hermione in disbelief. "You're lucky Severus isn't here. He'd have the royal head on a platter."
"I'm sorry, love. I guess I'm not used to having to deal with all this attention."
Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "How on Earth did the press find you? Didn't you Apparate here?"
"Hmm, good question. I have no idea how they found me."
Hermione reached for her wand on the nightstand and ran it up and down Draco's body, while he watched with mild interest. When she got to about chest level, her wand began shooting out little orange sparks. Hermione immediately stuck her hand down Draco's shirt.
"Hermione!" Draco said happily. "Not in front of my girlfriend!"
Hermione let out a pained sigh as she pulled a very large, very gaudy gold necklace from under his collar. The pendant was a giant letter "M" and it was decorated in rows of huge rhinestones.
"What the hell is this?"
Draco shrugged. "I got it at a Muggle tavern last night. A nice chap gave it to me. If I'm going to rule the country, then I must learn more about Muggle culture. The bloke said it's something that 'rap musicians' wear. I have no idea what rap music is . . . but lookee here! It's "M" for Malfoy!"
Hermione stared at him in mock awe. "Are you completely thick? This thing has been charmed, you dolt! Whoever gave it to you put a Locator Charm on it. That's how the press was able to follow you."
"Oops," said Draco nonchalantly.
Ginny interjected. "Well, it's no big problem, is it? We can always leave by Floo or just Apparate back to my place."
"Oh no," said Draco. "We're not going back to your place. I have other plans for us. And besides, what harm could it do if we give them what they want? Come out and greet them with me, Ginny." He nodded his head towards the door.
Hermione frowned. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Oh, tut!" said Draco, pulling Ginny with them. "It will be fun!"
Draco led a reluctant Ginny down the stairs . . . all the while Hermione was murmuring how he shouldn't be doing this and shouldn't he just wait for Severus to advise him?
Draco pointedly ignored her.
As Ginny and Draco walked out the front door, there was a roar of delight from the crowd in front of the house. Ginny had never seen so many cameras in one place and she froze nervously.
Draco addressed the crowd: "We will answer no questions, but you may take a few pictures if you'd like." He pulled Ginny in front of him and put his arm around her in a tender, protective gesture. Bending to her ear, she could feel his warm breath as he whispered to her in reassurance. "It's alright, my love. If we're to make a success of our relationship you'd better get used to this." The cameras started clicking.
Ginny immediately closed her eyes and relaxed in his arms. As he finished whispering to her, he gave her a soft kiss behind her ear and the staccato of the cameras intensified. Draco continued to whisper soothingly to her, all the while, the cameras whirled furiously. Ginny gave the crowd a shy, dreamy smile. The whole world seemed to melt away and it was just him and her, and maybe some chocolate sauce . . .
Suddenly Draco straightened up and his demeanor completely changed, "ALRIGHT, YOU FUCKING WOLFHOUNDS!" he yelled at the crowd, shaking his fist. "YOU'VE HAD YOUR FUN! NOW LEAVE US ALONE! THAT IS A DIRECT ORDER AND IF YOU DON'T OBEY IT, YOU WILL ALL HAVE TO KISS MY ROYAL --
With a POP! Draco and Ginny Disapparated, leaving stunned photographers in their wake.
Hermione shook her head in amusement, as she had seen everything from her parlour window.
"Vintage Draco Malfoy," she chuckled to herself.
To be continued . . .
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Author's Note: Severus Snape whipped out his wand in this chapter . . . hehehehe.
And I had to have Draco drinking orange juice, not pumpkin juice. Narcissa would never stand for pumpkin juice, as I believe it is the wizarding world's version of Kool-Aid.
A big thank-you to everyone who reviewed. I appreciate the feedback! And thanks to my wonderful beta, Elizabeth!