A/N: Hello all! Yes I know blackmailing for reviews isn't nice, but sometimes a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do. So anyway, thanks to my wonderful readers, in whose debt I will forever be, I was inspired to finish writing the second chapter of Ever Dream. I hope you guys like it and continue reading and reviewing. Thanks again!

Chapter 2

Ginny Weasley was not a happy woman when she stepped out of the Burrow's main fireplace. Her mother gave her one look and put the kettle on. As always Molly's first reaction to her daughter's trouble was a good strong cup of tea. A few ginger biscuits were also hastily pulled from a red glazed jar, as Molly believed that Ginny was becoming way too skinny.

She bustled round the kitchen as Ginny made herself comfortable in one of the chairs around the kitchen table, luxuriating in the warm morning sun streaming through the large window. Ginny sat quietly for a long while, simply sipping her tea and nibbling at a biscuit. It didn't take much for Molly to see that her daughter was horribly upset, but she knew that prying wouldn't help. Ginny would tell her mother what was troubling her when she was ready.

"I said some horrible things to Harry last night, Mum." The youngest Weasley was staring blankly ahead, the fingers of one slender hand idly fiddling with the handle of the cup before her.

"Oh, honey, what happened?" Molly frowned and settled herself down in a chair opposite her daughter, helping herself to one of the brown biscuits.

"He forgot our anniversary, and came home two hours late and…and I just lost it. I started throwing things and screaming, and then…then I said some really nasty things." Her voice got quieter and quieter as she continued, and it broke Molly's heart to see her daughter look so down-trodden.

Molly knew that her daughter and Harry's marriage was not going well. They'd had a lot of problems with Harry's work load, which took up most of his time, and Molly knew that Harry's blind dedication to his work made it hard for him to see Ginny's side of the story. The fact that Ginny was no longer working also worsened the situation, since Ginny no longer had anything to occupy herself with. And to add to it, Ginny had really hoped to have started a family by now, but Harry had protested that he was too busy to be raising children. The latter had been a sore blow to Ginny, who had wanted a few children of her own, having come out of the large family that she did.

"Sweetie, these things happen. We all say things we regret." Molly reached over and placed a comforting hand on her daughter's arm. "I'm sure you and Harry just need to sit down and talk things out." Even as she said it Molly knew that simply talking things out would not sort the marriage. Both Harry and Ginny were too stubborn to budge an inch from what they wanted or valued. From experience Molly knew that a successful marriage was based on being able to improvise and sometimes even to sacrifice for the good of the marriage. But she also understood Ginny's side of the argument, and tended to side with her daughter.

"I don't know anymore, Mum. I don't know if this can work for much longer." Ginny sighed and dropped the biscuit she was only half-heartedly nibbling on. "I never see him anymore, and when he is home he usually has his nose buried in work till the small hours of the morning."

"You can't just give up honey; you and Harry have always been so perfect for each other. I know you can make it work if you both tried hard enough." It was true, Harry and Ginny had always been an amazing team, during and after the war, but somehow things started falling apart.

"I know Mum, I know, but somehow I just can't imagine why we ever were such a good team. These days we can barely look each other in the eye without fighting."

Molly frowned slightly in concentration, an idea starting to form in her mind. "I think I know just what you need Gin-bug." She smiled softly. "You and Harry need to go on a nice holiday together; no work, no friends and no relatives. It will give the two of you time to sort out your problems for good and maybe find a compromise."

"Like Harry would willingly give up his work time to go on holiday with me." Ginny snorted. "Not likely Mum."

"At least run it by him, Ginny. He might just surprise you." Molly got up to refill her daughter's cup.

"We're not even speaking right now. How on earth am I going to get the idea to him? Charades perhaps?" Ginny's tone held no humour, and her eyes still had the slightly life-less quality that worried Molly more than she would care to admit.

"Then be the adult Ginny. Be the first one to give instead of just another one who tries to pull." Molly smiled. "You'll be surprised how much leverage you can get simply by playing the bigger person."

"I'll try Mum." Ginny pushed back her chair and walked around the table, giving her mother a peck on the cheek. "Thanks for the tea and everything."

"No problem, honey."

Ginny was half-way to the fireplace before she stopped and turned back to her mother. "Try not to worry too much, please?"

Seeing her mother nod and smile, Ginny grabbed a handful of powder and disappeared into the fireplace.

"Harry?"

It was around seven o'clock that night when Ginny came into the small house she and Harry owned. The lights were on in the kitchen, and Ginny made her way through the living-room, dropping her parcels on one of the couches. Instead of spending the day sulking at home, Ginny had managed to convince Hermione and Luna to go on a shopping trip with her. She came home with a new pair of shoes, two new tops, a skirt and a jacket. Too bad it didn't really make her feel much better.

She sighed softly as she walked into the little kitchen to find her husband surrounded by paperwork – as usual. At least it seemed as if the maid had come because there was no evidence of the breakfast Ginny had made that morning. Several boxes of take-away Chinese food were stacked on one counter, but it didn't appear as if Harry had eaten yet.

"Harry?" She asked again, softer this time. Ginny was rewarded when her husband looked up from his work. She could see the dark circles beneath his eyes, and she became painfully aware of the fact that he probably hadn't slept the previous night.

"Can we talk?" After moving the take-away boxes onto the table, Ginny took a seat opposite her husband. He didn't close the file before him, and he didn't put down his quill, but Ginny kept a tight rein on her temper, refusing to let another screaming match take place. Her mother was right, someone had to give sometime, and it seemed that once again Ginny would be the one.

"Sure." It was all he said; one lousy little word. Ginny clenched her fists beneath the table.

"Look, about last night…" He didn't give her much time to finish.

"It doesn't matter Ginny." Harry gave a heavy sigh and dropped his tired gaze back to his work.

"No, it does matter." She insisted none too gently. "And…and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the things I said." Ginny bit her lip to keep from yelling at him to look up at her.

"It's fine, Ginny, just forget about it ok?" This time Harry looked up. "We were both in the wrong. I don't blame you for what you said."

Ginny nodded and started opening the take-away, passing several of the boxes and a pair of chopsticks towards Harry. They ate in silence for a while until Ginny couldn't take it anymore.

"Do you remember Harry, just after we got married? Do you remember how we used to sit on the rug before the fireplace and eat Chinese, laughing our heads off 'cause we couldn't keep the rice on the chop sticks?" She smiled sadly and refrained from adding how they used to discard the half-empty boxes of food in favour of passionate love-making.

"Yeah, I remember." Harry pushed away his empty box and stood up, stretching his arms above his head. "Those were good times."

Ginny stood as well and started clearing away the left-overs. "What happened to those times, Harry? What changed?"

"I don't know Gin, I really don't know." Harry started up the stairs to their bedroom, Ginny following in his wake. He seemed more tired than Ginny had ever seen him before, and she felt a pang of regret at her actions of the previous night. It was short-lived however as they entered the room and Ginny saw the dress she had worn the previous night, still lying discarded on the floor.

Harry had removed both his shoes and his shirt before Ginny worked up the guts to ask him the big question.

"Harry, I was wondering." She started as she pulled her dressing gown over her head. "Can't we go on holiday sometime soon? You know, just the two of us?"

"Gin, you know how busy I am at work, I really can't take the time off now." Harry gave a tired sigh and removed his pants.

"Please, it doesn't have to be long. Just for a weekend? Please?" Ginny's eyes were filling with unshed tears despite her best efforts. She hadn't realised how important it was to her that he said yes until it seemed that he wouldn't.

"We'll see, ok? But I can't promise anything." Harry disappeared into the bathroom and Ginny sat down in front of her dressing table, slowly pulling a brush through her thick red hair.

She hated the colour, perhaps only because it had been mocked as garish one too many times when she was younger, but thankfully it had acquired a thick lustre as she grew older. It hung to the small of her back in a thick curtain, framing her oval face with its pale skin and dusting of freckles.

Harry moved back into their room, the smell of mint toothpaste and soap emanating off him as he climbed into their bed. Ginny sat quietly for a while more, mechanically drawing the brush through her hair. By the time she stood up, Harry was already fast asleep.

Quite a way from the Potter's small cottage, in a large, antique mansion, Draco Malfoy and his mother were having a fight. This was not a very common occurrence in the Malfoy house-hold, for Draco had been taught from a young age not to talk back to his mother. On this particular subject, however, Draco was putting his foot down – loudly.

"Mother, we haven't had a ball in the Manor since before Dad went to Azkaban. Why would you want to have one now?" Draco was trying really hard not to sound like a whining child, although he couldn't quite decide whether he wanted to whine or shout.

"It is your twenty-eighth birthday, Draco, and it is time that you celebrate a birthday properly." Narcissa Malfoy was still a splendid-looking woman, and perched upon a plush dark-green chair she looked as regal as a queen. "Besides, it is time that the Malfoy name is once again associated with great social gatherings. The ballroom has been out of use for such a long time."

"For a good reason." Draco muttered under his breath, but he did not voice his sentiments out loud. "Wouldn't you rather have a small party mother, perhaps only a few close friends and relatives?"

"No, we might as well do it properly – as Malfoy's should." Narcissa had a small smile playing at the corners of her lips, and Draco knew that that never boded well.

"I don't want to host a ball, Mother, I have no time for such useless idiosyncrasies." Draco sighed in frustration and continued his pacing, silently hoping that he could wear out a track on the plush carpet.

"A ball would be a great opportunity to show the wizarding world that you have fully relinquished your father's sentiments and that you are ready to fully integrate the Malfoy name back into polite society." A satisfied smile was now clearly visible on his mother's face, softening her aquiline features slightly.

Draco clenched his jaw. Would he have to spend the rest of his life outliving his father's stupidity? "The wizarding world know exactly what my sympathies are, Mother." He couldn't believe that he had been glad when his mother decided to leave her Tuscan villa for a while in order to visit him.

"All the better then to make them welcome in the Manor again, Draco." She might be smiling, but Narcissa's eyes held a glint of steel.

"I said no, Mother." Draco was losing his patience, and he unconsciously snapped at Narcissa.

Narcissa raised a delicately arched eyebrow at her son's tone. "It will only take one evening of your time, Draco, I will take the organisation of the entire affair completely upon myself."

Draco exhaled sharply through his nose, his annoyance becoming clearer by the moment. "Will it stop your nagging, Mother?" He'd never been that rude to his mother before, and Draco could see from her expression that she was not pleased in the least.

"Yes, it will."

"Fine, but I don't want to hear or see anything about the ball until that night." He had to close his eyes for a moment to steel himself for what he had agreed to.

"Of course." Narcissa's smile was feral.

A/N: Right, that's it for this chapter. Please let me know what you think by reviewing!