The Erised Effect
Chapter Five: Divide and Conquer
A fiction by: Maura Belle
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor anything associated, and that's
that.
~*~
Students headed towards the Great Hall stopped dead in their tracks, as though caught by headlights (though this analogy isn't entirely appropriate in the wizarding sense) to see the parents of the injured students walking in a slow procession down the halls. A few snuck around corners to follow them and see how things were turning out in that part of the situation. The reactions on the faces of the adults varied greatly, as observed by Crabbe and Goyle, who were probably the most determined to find out just what Dumbledore had told them, and how it would have differed from his address to the students.
Mrs. Weasley looked numb all over, and was being led down the hall by Mr. Weasley, who was gripping her shoulders to steady the large woman. She looked paler than one of the house ghosts, and shook violently with fear. Her quivering cause her to mumble incoherent things as though trying to convince herself it wasn't true at all. The Parkinsons walked dangerously close to the Malfoys, taking the news rather well. They, like Lucius, looked rather bored with the whole thing, and just wanted it to be over with so they could get back to their own adult business. Narcissa, however, was taking it the worst of them all. She was bawling into her husband's robes, and pounding at his nonchalant face with a small, angry fist. Her face was red and her eyes puffy, and every time she would bring it out of his robes, it would be angry, then go through an amazing transformation and turn exceptionally depressed and she would resume her crying. Lucius could be seen rolling his eyes every time this occurrence took place. The Durselys sported looks of utter amazement as they walked through the corridors of the giant castle and Mrs. Dursley squealed every time she saw a gargoyle. Naturally, they made wonderful targets for Peeves.
Neville's grandmother was in a state of shock, far worse than Mrs. Weasley's. Walking as though she didn't will it, she muttered things like "can't lose 'im. not 'im too."
The Grangers walked beside the Weasleys, silent and reverent as though they didn't want to add to the chaos. Their calm nature was obviously passed down to Hermione, who never had time for idle things that got in the way of her studies, such as being fearful.
And so they walked on until they made it to the Hospital Wing. Dumbledore opened the door slowly after a combination of wand waves, temporarily removing a spell that was placed to keep all the hysterical students out. The wooden creak of it startled a few of them, as it slowly showed itself to be much thicker than originally perceived. Finally, it allowed them passage into the large and separated Hospital Wing. Upon first sight, there was nothing there. All the beds were empty and everything was clean and sterile, as though no child had been in there since the last Quidditch match last month. But then, looking closer, they could see a row of curtains protecting the far end of the room, to which all the parents rushed as though they could be their child's saving grace.
The curtains were ripped off their hooks, trampled on, and torn to shreds before the entire crowd made it over them. Dumbledore walked slowly behind, calm, and as though there was nothing there that interested him at all. But the parents of the injured children all crowded around their own child's bed. Mrs. Weasley was torn between crying over Ginny or Ron first. Her decision was soon made, as she kneeled between their beds and just wept in the wall's direction, her husband's hand on her shoulder as he wept with her. Lucius looked down at his son as though he were disgusted, wondering how Draco could have gotten himself into this mess. Narcissa fainted, and saw nothing else of Draco's pale, immobile face, but what she would see over the rest of their Christmas break.
****
Immobile, though it seemed to fit, was not really the correct word to use to describe Draco. He, like many of his peers, spent most of the day rushing around trying to take care of all the children, preparing them and all their things and all their toys to be packed up in the minivan that belonged to the Weasleys. They were finally going back to their own house, at their own suggestion. They thought it would be better if they all just left to their own separate homes, to figure out what they were all doing here, or at least what they had done before they arrived. They were to find and compile all clues that pointed to the most ancient and the most recent, to see what kind of people they really were. Harry did nothing to help anyone gather up their things, as he was the most hesitant to leave, probably even more so than Pansy, who would be leaving to a home somewhere in the country, where she lived with Neville.
She was dawdling, putting things in the baby's diaper bag as slowly as possible. Harry played with his Quidditch jacket. Neville was trying to help Pansy so they could leave faster. He was in the best mood of them all.
Hermione and Ron kept bumping into each other and blushing, carrying various children to the car and having to carry them back after they figured out how to unbuckle themselves from their seats and run off. Ginny was packing up half-eaten sandwiches and sending extra cans of various things in boxes just so Hermione could have something at home to feed all seven children so she could keep her sanity for a few more days, at least. Ron was incredibly helpful in getting everything packed up, and even managed to tell a few stories about seeing monsters under the car so the children wouldn't hop out anymore.
Though everyone may not have been mentally prepared, they were physically. Hermione smacked her hands together as though swiping dust off of them and gave a grateful sigh at the sight of a full van, packed and ready to go. She turned to Ginny and quickly gave her a hug before hopping into the passenger side of the car to doze and try to calm her bunched up nerves. Ron gathered up the last box and then turned to hug his sister as well, after a quick warning to be careful and to ring them should anything happen or anything of any importance be found. She nodded, understanding, and laughed quietly as he warned Draco as well, that if she was hurt in any way, Ron would rip off his head and spit down his neck, among various other horrible things that he kept under his voice so the children wouldn't hear.
Finally, after all their goodbyes and well wishes, they were gone. Neville and Pansy went in separate cars as they had arrived, the baby riding with the father, after a serious of severe arguments.
The house seemed immensely quieter, until Harry stood up and finally looked around to realize that he was going to be the last one to leave. He looked at Ginny and Draco expectantly, and then around the house until his eyes laid on each of the children separately. Gabriel was in Ginny's arms, dozing peacefully now that there were no more screaming children rushing about. Ebony was at the table playing with the cutlery, and Jonathon walked up to his father's side, taking his hand and tugging on it, to ask if he could watch a little television before lunch. Harry's eyes followed Jonathon to the living room, and then trailed after Ebony as she went too.
Then, with a great, heaving sigh, he pulled up his jacket. "I guess I'm alone," He said with a serious, pained expression, and headed towards the door.
Ginny stuttered a few things before she found her voice, "Harry!" She waved her hand as though it could stop him in his path through the garden. He turned and took a few steps back, as though knowing what she was going to say. She opened her mouth to say what she was going to, to invite Harry to stay with them instead of going back to where ever he was and being alone, but then suddenly changed her mind. She put her lips together and smiled gently before speaking what she had decided on. "Give us a call if you find anything, alright?"
Looking greatly disappointed, he nodded and numbly walked on, carrying his jacket on his arm while he had no need for it in the warmer Florida weather.
Ginny watched him go for a moment before she turned to see Draco walk towards the living room with a great big smile on his face.
****
Days passed. The students and house war raged and floundered, sometimes being in great bouts of sadness and despair, and other times, making attempts to be optimistic about the fate of their fellows. The parents were given rooms in the castle, as most of them decided to stay there until their child was able to join them. Many of the adults would rush off on brooms lent by the school (as one cannot apparate from inside Hogwarts) towards the working world to insure that they kept their livelihoods while their children dozed through theirs. Dumbledore and Snape worked furiously together on various potions or concoctions, but nothing seemed to work. They turned from trying to find the cure to trying to find the problem, and both became so frustrated that they agreed not to hold any more potions classes so that they could head every day on the progression of the case. The Ministry had no need to get involved, and they honestly didn't care to, until the Minister visited his daughter's house.
One Wednesday, Fudge rushed in with two other Ministry officials, his face purple and his eyes so red it looked as though they would fall out of his head with the slightest jerk of his neck. This however, was impossible on more than one account, the first being that Fudge's muscles were so tense he couldn't twitch if he wanted to, and walked only through his incredible determination to find the Headmaster. When he finally did, he was outraged and fierce, approaching Dumbledore as though the Headmaster were a child who had done something very terrible and serious, such as destroying a vase or breaking a window or something severe that required punishment.
Lucius chuckled a bit as he saw the Minister in this sort of state. He quickly turned it into a cough as Narcissa began to laugh at him.
"You sent me an owl a few days ago," He huffed, face turning a deep purple that made Uncle Vernon proud. "Talking some gibberish about some students who couldn't wake up or something. I thought it was a joke."
Professor McGonagoll said a little "hmph!" at this.
"But look! I went to visit my daughter on my vacation-my day off-and look what I find!!" He made a great flourishing wave towards the two Ministry officials that had come with him, and everyone finally noticed the children in their arms. Fudge looked to Dumbledore, and, upon getting no response, gathered his robes in his pudgy fists and pulled the Headmaster towards him in a violent motion. "WELL?! What's happened?! How did you rope my grandchildren into this?! What have you done this time, Dumbledore? I know you're behind this! I know it was you-information tells me-I can't blame. anyone. else." His hysterical screams wavered and waned until they finally turned into little bursts of sobs, the tears of which, fell into Dumbledore's robes.
Lucius sneered behind his hands at the sight of the Minister. Narcissa shared his sense of humor and made a comment about what a crybaby the Minister of Magic was. The two of them began making snide little jokes as though they were school children again. Mrs. Longbottom gasped and pointed at the unruly couple, declaring she knew where Draco "got it from."
Dumbledore led Fudge to Mrs. Weasley, who had never ceased crying, and they whimpered together, joined by many random crying students who had been watching from the hallway. The Headmaster detached himself from the chaos surrounding him, a mixture of laughter and jeers and sobs and wails, and stepped forward to observe the children.
"Fudge.?" He began. The Minister turned, still sniffling, and moved to join him.
"Yes?" He mumbled as he blew his nose on a flowery hankie.
"Have your grandchildren always had such wonderfully blond hair?" He made a motion towards the sleeping girl and boy. With a gentle hand, the Headmaster reached forward and tucked the little girl's lacy white dress back under the arms of the official holding her.
Fudge shook his head. "I expect it was the SHOCK of whatever spell was put on them." And with that statement, he moved to his own little corner to pull out a wallet with smiling moving pictures of himself and his grandkids, which he tossed to Dumbledore. The Headmaster caught it and observed the pictures, matching the children to those there, though in the pictures, they had brilliantly dark hair.
He made a few glances to his immobile students, the children, the pictures, the parents. He lifted the children's eyelids to see the color beneath them. He paced here and there. He looked all around the room until he had taken everything in and considered every bit of information they had been presented with and made the connection.
His face drained of all color as he motioned for the Ministry officials to set the children on their own separate beds. These beds he rolled over to those that contained the damaged students and set them in between two of the beds. He stood back and stared at the four beds he had arranged and then nearly fainted.
"My word." He muttered under his breath.
Mrs. Weasley, curious as to what he was doing, stood beside him to see what he was seeing. Once she had, she fainted. Lucius did the same, falling into his wife's grip. Narcissa looked up and saw what the rest of them beheld, and with wide eyes asked, "What does this mean?"
"What does what mean?" Fudge demanded. "I don't-see it." Then he saw, and understood, and passed out as well.
Madame Pomfrey began fanning him and made a little muttering about all this fainting having to stop before she gave up her job.
****
Jonathon didn't laugh when his favorite cartoon's eyes bulged or when he was flattened like a pancake. He didn't laugh at anything on television, a trait he had obviously picked up from Draco, who didn't laugh either. He didn't see anything funny in those exploding cartoons. They were just violent. If he wanted violent, he'd watch wrestling or something. Ginny rushed around the house, looking for things and complaining about her lack of help, but Draco barely noticed. In fact, he had been sitting on the couch for the most of the day, going through different calendars and appointment books, and making up excuses to borrow Ebony's unicorn diary so that the girl wouldn't be too upset him reading it.
Actually, that girl didn't really display anything openly either. Just as Jonathon didn't laugh and lacked a sense of humor, she didn't do anything except play with her little dolls. She wore the same white dress every day, looking as though she were ready for a party or something, and was silent as she brushed her long white blonde hair. These activities made up her day, and she seldom did anything else.
Draco was interrupted from his observations when Ginny sat on the couch opposite him, shoving his feet off so she could have more room for herself and her large box.
"Finally," She breathed. "I found photos."
She opened the box and set about to shifting through the many pictures until she found a nice organized album to glance through. Turning through the pages, she realized that she herself was seldom in these pictures, meaning she obviously took them. She also noticed that they all looked considerably younger in the photos, and it was the first time that she became aware of the differences in their appearances. To this thought, she looked up at Draco, who was also looking through an album and saw, as though for the first time, how much older he looked from their years together in school. His shoulders had broadened, he'd become taller, and he had turned into a wonderfully handsome man. Realizing what she was thinking, Ginny shook her head as though to shake the thought away. Her efforts, however, were in vain, and for as long as she was sitting beside him, and longer, she would think only of him and the children. She was enveloped in her own little world and was constantly marveling everyday at the family she had made.
"Look at this," Draco's words snapped her out of her daze. She leaned towards him, blushing only slightly and found she was in awe of the fact that she was not at all uncomfortable around him, as she used to be. He moved the album towards her as she leaned over the box, her hand resting on his strong shoulder for support.
"Oh my word," Ginny whispered slowly. "I can't believe you found these." She looked up at him to see his gaze meet hers only moments later as they both shared the same expression of surprise and astonishment.
"What?" Ebony walked towards the couch and looked at the album as well, from where she was standing beside her father. Jonathon joined them too, taking the box off and allowing Ginny to scoot even closer towards Draco. Ginny could only call it a reflex or an action that came from her subconscious, but she reached out and helped the boy to her lap as Ebony climbed into Draco's. They all looked on as Draco slowly turned the pages of the photo album.
"You look so pretty, Mommy," Ebony said quietly. "I like white dresses."
Ginny felt a little guilty as she found pride in just how good she looked in her wedding dress. The veil had not yet been put on, and the pictures they were looking at had been taken in the dressing room as the bridesmaids had all lined up around her, right in front of the large mirrors. There was Pansy Parkinson, though Ginny could hardly begin to imagine why she had picked her to be a bridesmaid. Hermione, in this picture, was pregnant, which was the oddest of sights for them to see at that moment. Beside her were a few of Ginny's old school friends, a few of which she hadn't spoken to since fourth year. Turning the page, there was Draco straightening his bowtie and Lucius beside him, eyes rolled back as he finished off his glass of wine. Ginny couldn't help but think how old Lucius looked in that picture and those to follow, as though his son's own wedding caused him to age. Ginny could imagine it would. A Malfoy and a Weasley? Until just recently, even she had thought that sort of union was impossible. Past that was a great picture of the wedding ceremony. The happy couple was at the altar, holding hands. Hermione was on Ginny's side, the maid of honor, and Ron was on Draco's side as the best man. It was probably something requested by Ginny, and Draco agreed with her on this thought. He had no idea who he would have picked. He'd probably just left the whole planning up to her.
After that came pictures of the reception. Ron and Hermione were trying to dance as best they could with Hermione's bulging stomach in between them, and Harry dipped a delicate Cho in his arms. These pictures were of when the floor was full of lively people. Even Lucius and Narcissa got out on one of the slow songs, though it looked like she tried to do the Charleston on it, and had to be dragged off by him. One shot that really made both Ginny and Draco laugh was one of their fathers. Mr. Weasley had his arm around Lucius's shoulders, a broad smile on his face. Lucius, however, was looking over at the afore-mentioned man with a gaze of controlled disgust, as though he were trying to smile, but it came out a sneer. Not even the pressures of the camera could make this man happy, and at that, Draco only continued to laugh harder.
Ginny's laughter subsided, and Jonathon and Ebony's slowed considerably, but Draco was the last to finish. He was only seconds behind, but it was enough for Ginny to notice. It was the first time she'd seen him laugh, and it wasn't even at some cruel joke he'd made, or at anyone else's expense. It was just a photo.
Turning the page there were further pictures of the reception. Everyone sat around eating and dishing out punch, and Draco and Ginny both snickered as they saw pictures of them feeding each other cake or wine. Like that would ever happen, Ginny thought. With a startling realization, however, she could figure that it did. She had the pictures, the proof. Even the children were proof that, at one point, Draco and Ginny had loved each other.
Turning the page once more, this became even more obvious.
The dance floor was empty, save for Ginny and Draco. And they were dancing together.
"Daddy, you look happy," Ebony said quietly, pointing at a rather large picture, and it was true, as both took a closer look. Never before had either of them remembered being in such high spirits as they were in that picture. They looked so content with everything, and so lost in their own dance that they must have forgotten about all their family or friends or any other onlookers that might have been present. And now, they were so thankful that this moment had been captured, otherwise they would have never realized it.
Determined to make her father as happy as he was in the picture, Ebony wiggled on his lap a bit until she had reached a position where she could lift up her hands and stretch Draco's mouth out and up, vaguely resembling a smile. His eyelids lowered, as though saying, There's no way I'm really going to put up with this. You just watch, in two seconds I'll scream my head clear off and she won't even try anything like that again. Insolent little child.
However, as Ebony and Jonathon began to laugh, so much that his daughter's little hands fell, Ginny gave him a look that said she wouldn't allow profanity in this house again.
They continued to look on, silent for the most part. Sometimes there was a picture to laugh at, such as Ginny's dance with her father, and then an undoubtedly forced dance with Draco's father. Draco also danced with his mother and Ginny's in turn, although Mrs. Weasley seemed much more permitted to it than Mr. Malfoy had been with the bride. Later, there were pictures of a honeymoon vacation. Draco and Ginny had gone to Hawaii and pictures were abundantly supplied to the album.
Soon, though, the album closed and they were finished with it. Every page had been observed and every picture commented on. The family sat in silence, Ebony playing with her long, white blonde hair as she sat leaning against Draco. Ginny didn't realize she was still leaning against his shoulder, while Jonathon sat half on her lap, half on the couch. For a while, they all sat there, quiet and stationary, as it probably ran in their families to be. After what seemed like an eternity of peace and quiet, two qualities that none of them had ever really experienced before in their entirety, the doorbell rang, and as though on cue, the baby began to cry.
Draco tensed and Ginny stood, startled beyond belief. At the same moment the phone started ringing. Jonathon scrambled and flopped on the floor where he had been flung when Ginny stood and pretended as though he couldn't get up. Ebony and Draco tried to get up at the same time to get either the phone or the door, both somehow completely forgetting the screaming baby. They soon tangled themselves in the blanket that draped over the back of the couch (for looks, no doubt, but now turned into a hazardous weapon) and both fell to the floor beside Jonathon, trying to get unknotted from their fabric prison. Draco sat up, finally free of the purple hazard, only for Ebony to continue to struggle and somehow drape part of the thing over his head. He fell back to the floor and, confused, tried to get it off, and pulled Ebony off the carpeted floor in the process. While they continued their little struggle, Ginny tripped over Jonathon and then got back up to answer the phone.
"Malfoy residence, hold please," She promptly set the phone down and ran upstairs to get the baby, who was screaming its little head clear off. Draco commanded Jonathon to help him out of the blanket, but Jonathon left, bored with the whole situation. He later returned with a laundry basket, which he placed over his father's head and dashed off. Ebony gave up her futile attempts to escape so she could sit back and laugh at her confused father.
Ginny raced down the stairs, the baby in her arms as Draco tried to persuade Ebony to help him get the blanket and basket off his head with the jingling coins in his pocket, and Jonathon opened the freezer to look for some ice cream. Ginny set the baby in an easier position in her arms so that she could yank off her husband's restrictive blanket prison. He quickly stood up, tossed Ebony a penny as promised and proceeded to straighten his hair out with a comb he pulled from his back pocket.
"AAHHHH!!!" Draco covered his ears and Ginny covered the baby's as the highest pitched noise that any of them had ever heard came from Ebony's mouth.
"WHAT?!" Both parents screamed, Ginny's hand above the doorknob and Draco's above his own head.
"The man on the penny winked at me!!" She squealed, smiling that she was the center of attention in all of this chaos. Ginny smiled at her softly, while Draco rolled his eyes and continued to do what was otherwise known as "primping." Ginny picked the phone up and placed it rather hazardly close to her ear. She said her hellos to both the person on the phone, and then, as she opened the door, to the person on the other side of that.
"Ginny? Ginny?" Pansy was bawling on the other line. "Neville and I-we got in this tremendous-"
"Who is that? Who are you talking to? Is that Pansy? Hang up! GINNY!"
Ginny was so startled by the expression on Neville's red face that her grip on the phone almost allowed her to drop it. Pansy continued to scream and cry incoherent things about wanting to speak to Neville, but the latter kept trying to grab the phone, likely to smash it to pieces against the brick entryway.
"Neville, calm down! She's just called, I-"
"What has she told you? She's probably lying-don't listen to her!!"
"Neville," Pansy whined through the phone. He was getting through perfectly clear to her. Ginny could practically hear that little snot's heart breaking, though she had always imagined Draco would have been the one to do it.
"Just hang up, Ginny. I mean it! I'm not joking!!" Neville's rage continued to grow. The call on the phone had only made him angrier and his breathing had become raspy, as it usually did when one's throat had closed on him. His vision became nothing more than a blur and he rushed forward unwisely, wobbling towards Pansy's higher voice.
After that moment, everything happened too quickly. Neville's great flailing arms slammed down on the panel of switches, turning off the living room's lights, but turning on that of the kitchen, so that all Jonathon and Ebony saw were silhouettes of the struggling adults. Draco had rushed forth immediately after seeing Neville lunge at his wife. The phone clattered to the floor, but all the blood rushing in the distraught Neville's ears didn't allow him to hear it. He grabbed the person in front of him, which was Ginny, and instantly had a strong grip around her neck. He squeezed unconsciously and then allowed one of his hands to roughly grab the side of her head where her ear was, as though wanting to rip Pansy's voice out of it. Draco grabbed the arm that controlled the hand around Ginny's throat, and, prying it off, was able to get in between them, but not without consequences. Neville lashed out at him, landing his first punch right on Draco's face, not remembering the sort of penalty he gave out when he was struck. To the children, it was unsure who was hitting who, as both figures exchanged places several times and in rapid succession, one did a greater amount of damage to the other. Ginny somehow escaped the brawl, the baby screaming and struggling in her arms. She rushed over to where Jonathon and Ebony stood with dark expressions and apprehensive stances. The haste and urgency pumping in Ginny's blood was all that fueled her on. Her shock was weighting on her and pressuring her to pass out right there, but she kept moving. She led her children up the stairs and turned so sharply that she bumped harshly into the railing. Wincing, she pressed them all into her room; which was luckily one of the few doors in the house that actually supplied a lock. The others were the bathrooms, which were less comfortable, and the front door through which Neville had barged in to attack their family. Remembering this, and that they were not out of the woods just yet, they quickly turned the key and leaned against the door, sighing as though this simple action had solved their previous problem. But now there were fears and internal doubts to settle among the children and herself.
Ginny looked down at the baby in her arms, which had continued to scream and cry all the way to the room and persisted even now in allowing everyone to know just how upset he was. She began to rock him back and forth, unconsciously rocking herself as she did.
"It's alright, Gabe. It's alright. Shhh, shhh," She continued to try to comfort the child, and after a while, he quieted. Ebony sat quietly beside her mother, and Jonathon curled himself up on the other side of the bed, staring out into the space before him.
"Jonathon? Why don't you come over here with Mommy, sweetheart?" Ginny spoke gently.
He looked over at them, and, feeling a bit safer, began to crawl in their direction, when there was a great banging on the door. It seemed the whole room vibrated and shook, and Jonathon scooted back again.
"It's okay kids," Ginny said, frantically. "It's alright. really." It seemed she were trying to convince herself as well.
Neville's screams began to accompany the constant banging. "GINNY! I WANT TO TALK TO PANSY!!" The slur in his speech wasn't obvious, but it became clear in that sentence. Ginny led her children away once more, fearing that the lock would do them no good, or that the door wouldn't hold. In her panic, she began to lead them away again, into the bathroom. She placed Gabrielle in Jonathon's arms and commanded him to wait for her before he locked the door.
She rushed over the small bookshelf that was against the wall, and using the strength that came with adrenaline, began to push it over towards the door. When she finally made it, the noise and the banging had ceased, and Draco's muffled voice could be heard on the other side, as well as the rapid exchange of blows. Ginny dashed off to the adjoining bathroom and gripped the doorknob.
It didn't budge.
She jiggled it and tapped on the door, trying not to sound too urgent. "Jonathon, honey, let Mommy in."
"I can't!" He screamed from inside, and Ebony began to cry. "If I let you in, he'll come in too!"
"No, sweetie, he's out in the hall, but I need to get in. Unlock the door, Jonathon."
On the other side, under Ebony's cries, all Ginny heard was a slight whimper. Jonathon was weeping as well. She shouldn't have left them alone. What kind of mother was she? What had she done, other than lock her own children in a bathroom?
"It's fine, Jonathon. No one's going to hurt you," Ginny was close to pleading with the boy. She was on her knees against the door, her hand still on the knob.
He whimpered something on the other side, just as something hard and heavy hit against the door, shaking a few books off the shelf. A picture frame fell, glass shattering around the smiling anonymous faces. This noise only caused Jonathon to be more fearful of the whole situation. He began to full out bawl, holding no more tears back. Ebony only screamed louder.
Ginny was surprised to find tears rolling down her own cheeks. The day had taken such a startling turn. It was just a few minutes ago that they had been looking at her wedding, "remembering" glorious moments of the past and laughing together. Now she didn't know how Draco was or if he was even still alive, and all her children were locked up by their own despair and fear. She was cut off from all her family, alone in the room and the world. She gripped her sides and then placed a hand over her mouth to hide her sobs from her already upset children.
It was then that she realized that it was silent, and had been for a few moments then. She pressed against the wall, still too afraid to shout out to Draco or push the case back and peek out the door. She sat there, so hard against the wall that she was sure that she was making a print in it. There was so much tension in the air that Ginny could almost not stand it. She cringed at every little sound, such as the neighbor's car pulling in a driveway or the kids down the street laughing.
It was forever waiting for him and Ginny wasted all her tears. There was another thud against the door, and Ginny jumped. The children, also hearing it, screamed.
"Ginny?"
She was too relieved to answer. Her breath came easier now, but she was still fearful.
"Ginny, it's me."
At that, she stood and began to push the bookcase away from the door. It required an effort and time, but she finally pushed it over. Books and frames and pictures were scattered all over the floor, and there was a wet spot where the vase had shattered. Various flowers, all of red hues were strewn about among the glass, but Ginny stepped over it easily enough.
When she finally opened the door, she did so slowly.
********
"Where are you going, woman?" Lucius asked, wearing off his bad mood on his wife as he stepped off his broom on the castle's front grounds. She had stepped off her own, and held a bag of books on her shoulder. It was obvious to anyone that she had spent the day shopping, and for the husband to find out so quickly, before she could stash her finds anywhere, meant disaster for Narcissa. She had come prepared though, as she had known that she might have bumped into Lucius in Diagon Alley doing business and such. She dug around in various bags before she picked up what she was looking for.
It was the best piece of Blackmail he'd ever received.
He tried not to look too surprised, but Narcissa could see the look in his eyes. "Go on," She urged. "Take it." Her smile widened as he grabbed it from her. His hands trailed all over the leather bound book, and his bottom lip quivered, too excited to speak.
"The man at the counter said that that book contains even the most ancient dark magic ever recorded. It sounded spooky, so I knew you'd like it. You like dark things."
"Yes." He mumbled.
"And, you know," She waltzed over to him, a little bounce in her step. "Maybe you could figure out how to. you know."
He met her gaze with a quizzical one.
"You know.."
He shook his head, clueless.
"SAVE OUR SON!!"
"Goodness, woman, is that what you bought it for?!" He'd thought it was a gift. The upset man frowned, hoping his wife would notice.
"I want him back, Lucius, and you're going to fix him for me!!!"
"He can't be fixed! It has to be waited out-"
"NO!! YOU LIAR!"
Lucius sighed and looked at his wife's purple face. "Don't get upset," He muttered. Many students were looking around, wondering what the couple was arguing about. He was getting flashbacks.
"You can't cheer me up. You've tried and you're just TERRIBLE at it!!"
"Well-" He stuttered for a moment, trying to think up some great comeback that would shut her up permanently, but he realized from all his years with her, that that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. "Tell me what to do."
"Ask me to dance."
"WHAT?!"
"Every school dance we went to, you didn't ever ask me! Ever! I don't even know if you're a good dancer or not." She stopped for a moment and stared him down. "I know I am. I'm a great dancer. I bet I'm even better than you."
Lucius was so infuriated by this comment that he grabbed her hand and began waltzing into the school. And then it was settled.
********
"Geez, Malfoy. That's some shiner," Harry said, hoisting an unconscious Neville into the back seat of his convertible.
"Shut up, Potter," Malfoy countered, arms crossed and a scowl on his obviously hurt face. Cuts and bruises seemed to cover him entirely, mostly appearing on his arms and face. His look only worsened into hate when he looked down at the limp man who had once attacked and threatened his family. To stop himself from killing the poor fellow, Draco stomped angrily back into the house, hoping that everyone else was too tired after their ordeal to care about him.
Unfortunately, Draco did not get his wish.
"Will you show me how to fight, Dad?" Jonathon looked up at his father with unbridled admiration and determination in his eyes.
"Why would you want to know how to fight?" Draco asked, and did not wait for an answer. He sauntered over to the couch and plopped himself down on it, laying across and shielding his eyes from the light in the room with a damaged arm. He lay still for a moment, not moving for fear of causing himself more pain. He saw through his torn sleeve that Ebony was standing beside the couch, staring down at him.
"What is it?" He asked tiredly.
"I think you're great," She said, in her own soft quiet tone. "That's all." With that final thought, she walked upstairs to where her mother was setting the baby in the crib and asked politely to be tucked in and have a story read to her. Jonathon could be heard asking the same, but claimed he didn't need the story or the good night kiss. He had already settled in his bed after taking one last look at his brave and valiant father.
Draco thought he'd have at least enough time to lie back on the couch and try to get some sleep, or strike a pose that would make Ginny believe he was sleeping, but he wasn't so lucky. Ginny's quick footsteps were so quick that if there had not been a creak in the last stair, he would not have been able to prepare himself for his onslaught. As soon as she reached the couch, he braced himself. She lunged at him, so quickly that he didn't even have a chance to catch the look on her face before she buried it in his shoulder. He winced openly at his pain, but she did not notice. It took a concentrated effort for Ginny to keep her sobs quiet, and she could think of nothing else than what was plaguing her right at that moment.
"Ginny," Draco whispered, aware that the children upstairs were sleeping. He tried to pull her away from him, to reason with her, to tell her that all this crying was foolishness. He was fine. Tears won't solve anything now. You're such a baby.
But as he pulled her away from him and kept his grip firm on her shoulders as though to reinforce his words, he could not bring himself to say anything. The look on her face, more than worry, but of dread and fear, and that more horrid emotion that came with vulnerability took on forms and voices of their own and seemed to pierce his cheeks and eyes so that he felt that if he did not blink fast enough, tears might fall. His throat tightened itself to prevent any harsh curses or insults to fly out in his own defense, or even a kind word to comfort Ginny. He could say nothing, and so, he merely pulled her back to her former position and hugged her again.
A small gasp escaped her lips as his hand settled on her hip. Draco quickly tensed and released her, a small fear rising in his chest. Ginny sat back on the floor and raised her shirt up a little bit, examining her side. A large bruise had formed, its ugly purple and yellows stretching through most of her hip and side. Just looking at it made Draco wince, and Ginny frowned, a new onslaught of tears ready to show themselves.
"It's so ugly!" She whined. "Look at it! I can't wear white blouses or a two-piece bathing suit otherwise," She looked up at Draco who was bursting with laughter ready to come out. "People will think you abuse me!!"
"Abuse you? With all my injuries, they'll more likely think you hit me!"
At this Ginny was able to laugh, but it quickly subsided. All that was left in her was a heavy sigh, which she heaved with desperation gilding the edges. Draco slid down off the couch to lean against it as he sat on the floor, closer to his wife. He too, gave a sigh, though his seemed more like a yawn.
"I'm so tired."
Ginny took her attention from her bruised side to look at the amount of damage done to him. His bruises were many, and all of them far worse than what she sported. He leaned his head against one of the cushions, and as his neck tilted, she could see a few cuts done there. She assumed that not only had Neville's fists done damage, but his nails had also aided in the onslaught, and small outlines of his wedding band were just now fading from Draco's skin.
"You look tired. You got pretty banged up, there, Draco." Ginny added, still staring at him. Her gaze wouldn't waver, no matter how much she tried to make it. He met it, lazily.
"Where are we, Ginny?" He drawled, his eyes half-shut but his mind still working well enough to perform conversation.
"Where are we?" She echoed. "We're in Florida. In the U.S. We're in our home."
At that he shook his head, unwilling to accept it. "We can't take that, Ginny. This isn't home. We're a million miles away from home."
Suddenly realizing this, a small gasp came to her. She put a delicate hand to her lips, as though stopping the slew of curses she wanted to speak. Everything began to come to her so quickly-Hogwarts, her parents, her friends, The Burrow, her brothers, the Ministry, moving pictures, chocolate frogs, everything rushed back through her mind at such a speed that she had to press a hand against the floor to steady herself. "Oh my word." She whispered, surprise still etched on her features. "I didn't remember. Draco, I. I haven't remembered anything in days! Not even Harry's stupid Quidditch jacket could remind me! I just, I-" Those were the last intelligible words Ginny spoke before she started sputtering little things in short gasps. She seemed, in her state, so scared that she was barely able to breath, and reacting to this, Draco reached out and brought her to him.
"Ginny, it's okay. Ginny," How many times did he have to calm this woman down? This time, however, he was mindful of her hip and spoke a bit louder to get through to her past the little spouts she was emitting. He was forceful enough to get his point across, but at the same, gentle so that she wouldn't continue to panic any further. "Ginny, what are you so afraid of?"
A small blush appeared on her cheeks, but other than that, she showed no signs of wanting to say. He had to stare at her a long while to get it out of her, but eventually his efforts were awarded. She looked away as she said it, too embarrassed to meet his gaze anymore. "You," She said softly.
"Me?" Draco did a double take.
"Well, losing you," She corrected herself. "I mean, what if we wake up from this dream and don't remember a thing? What if we wake up tomorrow and we're still here and we don't remember home anymore? Or. what if I'm just still in Potions, comatose, and daydreaming! Which. which life is real?"
She looked back to him to see a huge grin on his face in spite of what she just said. She had expected a serious expression, but instead she saw a man who looked like he was about to double over with laughter, taking her with him, no doubt. "What?!" She shouted, defensively.
"You don't want to lose me," He chuckled. "I think you like me." His smile grew wider until he resembled the Cheshire Cat, and Ginny, a confused Alice, lost in a wonderland that turned out to be, most suspiciously, a strange emotion that put her on a kind of high.
Ginny scoffed, unable to think of any other reaction to supply him that wouldn't give him an ego trip. "Please. Who would like a little Slytherin snot like you?"
"You know you do."
"I do not! Draco! I'm trying to be serious here! There is a problem on our hands!" She donned an annoyed expression, guarding against the smile that was twitching on the edges of her lips, trying to show itself.
"You're right. You're in denial." He looked down at her, so sure of his assessment.
Appearing shocked, she half-screamed at him,"I am not in denial!"
"See? I told you so. I guess I should have seen this coming, though. I am irresistible."
She scoffed again. "I think I'm resisting you pretty well." In defense, she crossed her arms as though proving just how well she could keep a distance between them. This statement was sort of hard to say, though, when she was sitting right beside him.
"You're fighting it. It's an effort. It drains you emotionally every day which is why you're such a pill right now." He stared her down like some sort of psychologist, diagnosing her with an imaginary disorder that was putting her under the weather constantly. Though Ginny was leaning against the couch, she felt as though she were trapped in a box, nowhere to go. Though cornered, she knew she still had some ammo left in her, but Draco wouldn't have it. "Poor Ginny. So confused. Why don't you just admit it, doll? That'd make things better."
She resisted the urge to scoff in his face again. It was become a frequent habit, really. Instead, she sneered, put on a look of assurance, and leaned in a little closer as though she were going to whisper something. "Spare me, Draco. You just want me to say it so that you can finally get your declaration of love off your chest. It's weighing you down. You're emotionally drained. Why don't you just let it out?" Her little smirk widened until a full-blown smile was in its place. She was looking at an expression on Draco that she, nor anyone else at Hogwarts had ever seen before. He was embarrassed, stuttering, confused, hesitating-he was almost scared that Ginny would get the best of him here.
"That's a nice little lie. What's next, Ginny? Bank robbery?"
"I was thinking about it."
"You wouldn't be able to pull it off by yourself. You're too clumsy."
"I guess I'd just have to take you along with me, then, won't I, Clyde?"
Late that night, one could find the pair still talking, laughing, arguing, or having little poke-fights in which they would each aim at each other's injuries. Needless to say, Draco lost this.
*******
As planned, the fic is getting darker. oooo... Sometimes I just get in these violent moods and rather than beat my pillows or my sisters (which doesn't ever work out so hot because they always hit back, and harder) I end up writing things like this. Torture and angst! Or just hopeless situations that shouldn't have happened altogether and may never have fit into the plot.
This, however, did! I know the little scuffle seemed a little pointless on its own in this chapter, but later in the fic it's going to tie into a lot. Thanks to all of you who have been so patient! I love you all, guys!
Yeah, Maura Belle
Chapter Five: Divide and Conquer
A fiction by: Maura Belle
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor anything associated, and that's
that.
~*~
Students headed towards the Great Hall stopped dead in their tracks, as though caught by headlights (though this analogy isn't entirely appropriate in the wizarding sense) to see the parents of the injured students walking in a slow procession down the halls. A few snuck around corners to follow them and see how things were turning out in that part of the situation. The reactions on the faces of the adults varied greatly, as observed by Crabbe and Goyle, who were probably the most determined to find out just what Dumbledore had told them, and how it would have differed from his address to the students.
Mrs. Weasley looked numb all over, and was being led down the hall by Mr. Weasley, who was gripping her shoulders to steady the large woman. She looked paler than one of the house ghosts, and shook violently with fear. Her quivering cause her to mumble incoherent things as though trying to convince herself it wasn't true at all. The Parkinsons walked dangerously close to the Malfoys, taking the news rather well. They, like Lucius, looked rather bored with the whole thing, and just wanted it to be over with so they could get back to their own adult business. Narcissa, however, was taking it the worst of them all. She was bawling into her husband's robes, and pounding at his nonchalant face with a small, angry fist. Her face was red and her eyes puffy, and every time she would bring it out of his robes, it would be angry, then go through an amazing transformation and turn exceptionally depressed and she would resume her crying. Lucius could be seen rolling his eyes every time this occurrence took place. The Durselys sported looks of utter amazement as they walked through the corridors of the giant castle and Mrs. Dursley squealed every time she saw a gargoyle. Naturally, they made wonderful targets for Peeves.
Neville's grandmother was in a state of shock, far worse than Mrs. Weasley's. Walking as though she didn't will it, she muttered things like "can't lose 'im. not 'im too."
The Grangers walked beside the Weasleys, silent and reverent as though they didn't want to add to the chaos. Their calm nature was obviously passed down to Hermione, who never had time for idle things that got in the way of her studies, such as being fearful.
And so they walked on until they made it to the Hospital Wing. Dumbledore opened the door slowly after a combination of wand waves, temporarily removing a spell that was placed to keep all the hysterical students out. The wooden creak of it startled a few of them, as it slowly showed itself to be much thicker than originally perceived. Finally, it allowed them passage into the large and separated Hospital Wing. Upon first sight, there was nothing there. All the beds were empty and everything was clean and sterile, as though no child had been in there since the last Quidditch match last month. But then, looking closer, they could see a row of curtains protecting the far end of the room, to which all the parents rushed as though they could be their child's saving grace.
The curtains were ripped off their hooks, trampled on, and torn to shreds before the entire crowd made it over them. Dumbledore walked slowly behind, calm, and as though there was nothing there that interested him at all. But the parents of the injured children all crowded around their own child's bed. Mrs. Weasley was torn between crying over Ginny or Ron first. Her decision was soon made, as she kneeled between their beds and just wept in the wall's direction, her husband's hand on her shoulder as he wept with her. Lucius looked down at his son as though he were disgusted, wondering how Draco could have gotten himself into this mess. Narcissa fainted, and saw nothing else of Draco's pale, immobile face, but what she would see over the rest of their Christmas break.
****
Immobile, though it seemed to fit, was not really the correct word to use to describe Draco. He, like many of his peers, spent most of the day rushing around trying to take care of all the children, preparing them and all their things and all their toys to be packed up in the minivan that belonged to the Weasleys. They were finally going back to their own house, at their own suggestion. They thought it would be better if they all just left to their own separate homes, to figure out what they were all doing here, or at least what they had done before they arrived. They were to find and compile all clues that pointed to the most ancient and the most recent, to see what kind of people they really were. Harry did nothing to help anyone gather up their things, as he was the most hesitant to leave, probably even more so than Pansy, who would be leaving to a home somewhere in the country, where she lived with Neville.
She was dawdling, putting things in the baby's diaper bag as slowly as possible. Harry played with his Quidditch jacket. Neville was trying to help Pansy so they could leave faster. He was in the best mood of them all.
Hermione and Ron kept bumping into each other and blushing, carrying various children to the car and having to carry them back after they figured out how to unbuckle themselves from their seats and run off. Ginny was packing up half-eaten sandwiches and sending extra cans of various things in boxes just so Hermione could have something at home to feed all seven children so she could keep her sanity for a few more days, at least. Ron was incredibly helpful in getting everything packed up, and even managed to tell a few stories about seeing monsters under the car so the children wouldn't hop out anymore.
Though everyone may not have been mentally prepared, they were physically. Hermione smacked her hands together as though swiping dust off of them and gave a grateful sigh at the sight of a full van, packed and ready to go. She turned to Ginny and quickly gave her a hug before hopping into the passenger side of the car to doze and try to calm her bunched up nerves. Ron gathered up the last box and then turned to hug his sister as well, after a quick warning to be careful and to ring them should anything happen or anything of any importance be found. She nodded, understanding, and laughed quietly as he warned Draco as well, that if she was hurt in any way, Ron would rip off his head and spit down his neck, among various other horrible things that he kept under his voice so the children wouldn't hear.
Finally, after all their goodbyes and well wishes, they were gone. Neville and Pansy went in separate cars as they had arrived, the baby riding with the father, after a serious of severe arguments.
The house seemed immensely quieter, until Harry stood up and finally looked around to realize that he was going to be the last one to leave. He looked at Ginny and Draco expectantly, and then around the house until his eyes laid on each of the children separately. Gabriel was in Ginny's arms, dozing peacefully now that there were no more screaming children rushing about. Ebony was at the table playing with the cutlery, and Jonathon walked up to his father's side, taking his hand and tugging on it, to ask if he could watch a little television before lunch. Harry's eyes followed Jonathon to the living room, and then trailed after Ebony as she went too.
Then, with a great, heaving sigh, he pulled up his jacket. "I guess I'm alone," He said with a serious, pained expression, and headed towards the door.
Ginny stuttered a few things before she found her voice, "Harry!" She waved her hand as though it could stop him in his path through the garden. He turned and took a few steps back, as though knowing what she was going to say. She opened her mouth to say what she was going to, to invite Harry to stay with them instead of going back to where ever he was and being alone, but then suddenly changed her mind. She put her lips together and smiled gently before speaking what she had decided on. "Give us a call if you find anything, alright?"
Looking greatly disappointed, he nodded and numbly walked on, carrying his jacket on his arm while he had no need for it in the warmer Florida weather.
Ginny watched him go for a moment before she turned to see Draco walk towards the living room with a great big smile on his face.
****
Days passed. The students and house war raged and floundered, sometimes being in great bouts of sadness and despair, and other times, making attempts to be optimistic about the fate of their fellows. The parents were given rooms in the castle, as most of them decided to stay there until their child was able to join them. Many of the adults would rush off on brooms lent by the school (as one cannot apparate from inside Hogwarts) towards the working world to insure that they kept their livelihoods while their children dozed through theirs. Dumbledore and Snape worked furiously together on various potions or concoctions, but nothing seemed to work. They turned from trying to find the cure to trying to find the problem, and both became so frustrated that they agreed not to hold any more potions classes so that they could head every day on the progression of the case. The Ministry had no need to get involved, and they honestly didn't care to, until the Minister visited his daughter's house.
One Wednesday, Fudge rushed in with two other Ministry officials, his face purple and his eyes so red it looked as though they would fall out of his head with the slightest jerk of his neck. This however, was impossible on more than one account, the first being that Fudge's muscles were so tense he couldn't twitch if he wanted to, and walked only through his incredible determination to find the Headmaster. When he finally did, he was outraged and fierce, approaching Dumbledore as though the Headmaster were a child who had done something very terrible and serious, such as destroying a vase or breaking a window or something severe that required punishment.
Lucius chuckled a bit as he saw the Minister in this sort of state. He quickly turned it into a cough as Narcissa began to laugh at him.
"You sent me an owl a few days ago," He huffed, face turning a deep purple that made Uncle Vernon proud. "Talking some gibberish about some students who couldn't wake up or something. I thought it was a joke."
Professor McGonagoll said a little "hmph!" at this.
"But look! I went to visit my daughter on my vacation-my day off-and look what I find!!" He made a great flourishing wave towards the two Ministry officials that had come with him, and everyone finally noticed the children in their arms. Fudge looked to Dumbledore, and, upon getting no response, gathered his robes in his pudgy fists and pulled the Headmaster towards him in a violent motion. "WELL?! What's happened?! How did you rope my grandchildren into this?! What have you done this time, Dumbledore? I know you're behind this! I know it was you-information tells me-I can't blame. anyone. else." His hysterical screams wavered and waned until they finally turned into little bursts of sobs, the tears of which, fell into Dumbledore's robes.
Lucius sneered behind his hands at the sight of the Minister. Narcissa shared his sense of humor and made a comment about what a crybaby the Minister of Magic was. The two of them began making snide little jokes as though they were school children again. Mrs. Longbottom gasped and pointed at the unruly couple, declaring she knew where Draco "got it from."
Dumbledore led Fudge to Mrs. Weasley, who had never ceased crying, and they whimpered together, joined by many random crying students who had been watching from the hallway. The Headmaster detached himself from the chaos surrounding him, a mixture of laughter and jeers and sobs and wails, and stepped forward to observe the children.
"Fudge.?" He began. The Minister turned, still sniffling, and moved to join him.
"Yes?" He mumbled as he blew his nose on a flowery hankie.
"Have your grandchildren always had such wonderfully blond hair?" He made a motion towards the sleeping girl and boy. With a gentle hand, the Headmaster reached forward and tucked the little girl's lacy white dress back under the arms of the official holding her.
Fudge shook his head. "I expect it was the SHOCK of whatever spell was put on them." And with that statement, he moved to his own little corner to pull out a wallet with smiling moving pictures of himself and his grandkids, which he tossed to Dumbledore. The Headmaster caught it and observed the pictures, matching the children to those there, though in the pictures, they had brilliantly dark hair.
He made a few glances to his immobile students, the children, the pictures, the parents. He lifted the children's eyelids to see the color beneath them. He paced here and there. He looked all around the room until he had taken everything in and considered every bit of information they had been presented with and made the connection.
His face drained of all color as he motioned for the Ministry officials to set the children on their own separate beds. These beds he rolled over to those that contained the damaged students and set them in between two of the beds. He stood back and stared at the four beds he had arranged and then nearly fainted.
"My word." He muttered under his breath.
Mrs. Weasley, curious as to what he was doing, stood beside him to see what he was seeing. Once she had, she fainted. Lucius did the same, falling into his wife's grip. Narcissa looked up and saw what the rest of them beheld, and with wide eyes asked, "What does this mean?"
"What does what mean?" Fudge demanded. "I don't-see it." Then he saw, and understood, and passed out as well.
Madame Pomfrey began fanning him and made a little muttering about all this fainting having to stop before she gave up her job.
****
Jonathon didn't laugh when his favorite cartoon's eyes bulged or when he was flattened like a pancake. He didn't laugh at anything on television, a trait he had obviously picked up from Draco, who didn't laugh either. He didn't see anything funny in those exploding cartoons. They were just violent. If he wanted violent, he'd watch wrestling or something. Ginny rushed around the house, looking for things and complaining about her lack of help, but Draco barely noticed. In fact, he had been sitting on the couch for the most of the day, going through different calendars and appointment books, and making up excuses to borrow Ebony's unicorn diary so that the girl wouldn't be too upset him reading it.
Actually, that girl didn't really display anything openly either. Just as Jonathon didn't laugh and lacked a sense of humor, she didn't do anything except play with her little dolls. She wore the same white dress every day, looking as though she were ready for a party or something, and was silent as she brushed her long white blonde hair. These activities made up her day, and she seldom did anything else.
Draco was interrupted from his observations when Ginny sat on the couch opposite him, shoving his feet off so she could have more room for herself and her large box.
"Finally," She breathed. "I found photos."
She opened the box and set about to shifting through the many pictures until she found a nice organized album to glance through. Turning through the pages, she realized that she herself was seldom in these pictures, meaning she obviously took them. She also noticed that they all looked considerably younger in the photos, and it was the first time that she became aware of the differences in their appearances. To this thought, she looked up at Draco, who was also looking through an album and saw, as though for the first time, how much older he looked from their years together in school. His shoulders had broadened, he'd become taller, and he had turned into a wonderfully handsome man. Realizing what she was thinking, Ginny shook her head as though to shake the thought away. Her efforts, however, were in vain, and for as long as she was sitting beside him, and longer, she would think only of him and the children. She was enveloped in her own little world and was constantly marveling everyday at the family she had made.
"Look at this," Draco's words snapped her out of her daze. She leaned towards him, blushing only slightly and found she was in awe of the fact that she was not at all uncomfortable around him, as she used to be. He moved the album towards her as she leaned over the box, her hand resting on his strong shoulder for support.
"Oh my word," Ginny whispered slowly. "I can't believe you found these." She looked up at him to see his gaze meet hers only moments later as they both shared the same expression of surprise and astonishment.
"What?" Ebony walked towards the couch and looked at the album as well, from where she was standing beside her father. Jonathon joined them too, taking the box off and allowing Ginny to scoot even closer towards Draco. Ginny could only call it a reflex or an action that came from her subconscious, but she reached out and helped the boy to her lap as Ebony climbed into Draco's. They all looked on as Draco slowly turned the pages of the photo album.
"You look so pretty, Mommy," Ebony said quietly. "I like white dresses."
Ginny felt a little guilty as she found pride in just how good she looked in her wedding dress. The veil had not yet been put on, and the pictures they were looking at had been taken in the dressing room as the bridesmaids had all lined up around her, right in front of the large mirrors. There was Pansy Parkinson, though Ginny could hardly begin to imagine why she had picked her to be a bridesmaid. Hermione, in this picture, was pregnant, which was the oddest of sights for them to see at that moment. Beside her were a few of Ginny's old school friends, a few of which she hadn't spoken to since fourth year. Turning the page, there was Draco straightening his bowtie and Lucius beside him, eyes rolled back as he finished off his glass of wine. Ginny couldn't help but think how old Lucius looked in that picture and those to follow, as though his son's own wedding caused him to age. Ginny could imagine it would. A Malfoy and a Weasley? Until just recently, even she had thought that sort of union was impossible. Past that was a great picture of the wedding ceremony. The happy couple was at the altar, holding hands. Hermione was on Ginny's side, the maid of honor, and Ron was on Draco's side as the best man. It was probably something requested by Ginny, and Draco agreed with her on this thought. He had no idea who he would have picked. He'd probably just left the whole planning up to her.
After that came pictures of the reception. Ron and Hermione were trying to dance as best they could with Hermione's bulging stomach in between them, and Harry dipped a delicate Cho in his arms. These pictures were of when the floor was full of lively people. Even Lucius and Narcissa got out on one of the slow songs, though it looked like she tried to do the Charleston on it, and had to be dragged off by him. One shot that really made both Ginny and Draco laugh was one of their fathers. Mr. Weasley had his arm around Lucius's shoulders, a broad smile on his face. Lucius, however, was looking over at the afore-mentioned man with a gaze of controlled disgust, as though he were trying to smile, but it came out a sneer. Not even the pressures of the camera could make this man happy, and at that, Draco only continued to laugh harder.
Ginny's laughter subsided, and Jonathon and Ebony's slowed considerably, but Draco was the last to finish. He was only seconds behind, but it was enough for Ginny to notice. It was the first time she'd seen him laugh, and it wasn't even at some cruel joke he'd made, or at anyone else's expense. It was just a photo.
Turning the page there were further pictures of the reception. Everyone sat around eating and dishing out punch, and Draco and Ginny both snickered as they saw pictures of them feeding each other cake or wine. Like that would ever happen, Ginny thought. With a startling realization, however, she could figure that it did. She had the pictures, the proof. Even the children were proof that, at one point, Draco and Ginny had loved each other.
Turning the page once more, this became even more obvious.
The dance floor was empty, save for Ginny and Draco. And they were dancing together.
"Daddy, you look happy," Ebony said quietly, pointing at a rather large picture, and it was true, as both took a closer look. Never before had either of them remembered being in such high spirits as they were in that picture. They looked so content with everything, and so lost in their own dance that they must have forgotten about all their family or friends or any other onlookers that might have been present. And now, they were so thankful that this moment had been captured, otherwise they would have never realized it.
Determined to make her father as happy as he was in the picture, Ebony wiggled on his lap a bit until she had reached a position where she could lift up her hands and stretch Draco's mouth out and up, vaguely resembling a smile. His eyelids lowered, as though saying, There's no way I'm really going to put up with this. You just watch, in two seconds I'll scream my head clear off and she won't even try anything like that again. Insolent little child.
However, as Ebony and Jonathon began to laugh, so much that his daughter's little hands fell, Ginny gave him a look that said she wouldn't allow profanity in this house again.
They continued to look on, silent for the most part. Sometimes there was a picture to laugh at, such as Ginny's dance with her father, and then an undoubtedly forced dance with Draco's father. Draco also danced with his mother and Ginny's in turn, although Mrs. Weasley seemed much more permitted to it than Mr. Malfoy had been with the bride. Later, there were pictures of a honeymoon vacation. Draco and Ginny had gone to Hawaii and pictures were abundantly supplied to the album.
Soon, though, the album closed and they were finished with it. Every page had been observed and every picture commented on. The family sat in silence, Ebony playing with her long, white blonde hair as she sat leaning against Draco. Ginny didn't realize she was still leaning against his shoulder, while Jonathon sat half on her lap, half on the couch. For a while, they all sat there, quiet and stationary, as it probably ran in their families to be. After what seemed like an eternity of peace and quiet, two qualities that none of them had ever really experienced before in their entirety, the doorbell rang, and as though on cue, the baby began to cry.
Draco tensed and Ginny stood, startled beyond belief. At the same moment the phone started ringing. Jonathon scrambled and flopped on the floor where he had been flung when Ginny stood and pretended as though he couldn't get up. Ebony and Draco tried to get up at the same time to get either the phone or the door, both somehow completely forgetting the screaming baby. They soon tangled themselves in the blanket that draped over the back of the couch (for looks, no doubt, but now turned into a hazardous weapon) and both fell to the floor beside Jonathon, trying to get unknotted from their fabric prison. Draco sat up, finally free of the purple hazard, only for Ebony to continue to struggle and somehow drape part of the thing over his head. He fell back to the floor and, confused, tried to get it off, and pulled Ebony off the carpeted floor in the process. While they continued their little struggle, Ginny tripped over Jonathon and then got back up to answer the phone.
"Malfoy residence, hold please," She promptly set the phone down and ran upstairs to get the baby, who was screaming its little head clear off. Draco commanded Jonathon to help him out of the blanket, but Jonathon left, bored with the whole situation. He later returned with a laundry basket, which he placed over his father's head and dashed off. Ebony gave up her futile attempts to escape so she could sit back and laugh at her confused father.
Ginny raced down the stairs, the baby in her arms as Draco tried to persuade Ebony to help him get the blanket and basket off his head with the jingling coins in his pocket, and Jonathon opened the freezer to look for some ice cream. Ginny set the baby in an easier position in her arms so that she could yank off her husband's restrictive blanket prison. He quickly stood up, tossed Ebony a penny as promised and proceeded to straighten his hair out with a comb he pulled from his back pocket.
"AAHHHH!!!" Draco covered his ears and Ginny covered the baby's as the highest pitched noise that any of them had ever heard came from Ebony's mouth.
"WHAT?!" Both parents screamed, Ginny's hand above the doorknob and Draco's above his own head.
"The man on the penny winked at me!!" She squealed, smiling that she was the center of attention in all of this chaos. Ginny smiled at her softly, while Draco rolled his eyes and continued to do what was otherwise known as "primping." Ginny picked the phone up and placed it rather hazardly close to her ear. She said her hellos to both the person on the phone, and then, as she opened the door, to the person on the other side of that.
"Ginny? Ginny?" Pansy was bawling on the other line. "Neville and I-we got in this tremendous-"
"Who is that? Who are you talking to? Is that Pansy? Hang up! GINNY!"
Ginny was so startled by the expression on Neville's red face that her grip on the phone almost allowed her to drop it. Pansy continued to scream and cry incoherent things about wanting to speak to Neville, but the latter kept trying to grab the phone, likely to smash it to pieces against the brick entryway.
"Neville, calm down! She's just called, I-"
"What has she told you? She's probably lying-don't listen to her!!"
"Neville," Pansy whined through the phone. He was getting through perfectly clear to her. Ginny could practically hear that little snot's heart breaking, though she had always imagined Draco would have been the one to do it.
"Just hang up, Ginny. I mean it! I'm not joking!!" Neville's rage continued to grow. The call on the phone had only made him angrier and his breathing had become raspy, as it usually did when one's throat had closed on him. His vision became nothing more than a blur and he rushed forward unwisely, wobbling towards Pansy's higher voice.
After that moment, everything happened too quickly. Neville's great flailing arms slammed down on the panel of switches, turning off the living room's lights, but turning on that of the kitchen, so that all Jonathon and Ebony saw were silhouettes of the struggling adults. Draco had rushed forth immediately after seeing Neville lunge at his wife. The phone clattered to the floor, but all the blood rushing in the distraught Neville's ears didn't allow him to hear it. He grabbed the person in front of him, which was Ginny, and instantly had a strong grip around her neck. He squeezed unconsciously and then allowed one of his hands to roughly grab the side of her head where her ear was, as though wanting to rip Pansy's voice out of it. Draco grabbed the arm that controlled the hand around Ginny's throat, and, prying it off, was able to get in between them, but not without consequences. Neville lashed out at him, landing his first punch right on Draco's face, not remembering the sort of penalty he gave out when he was struck. To the children, it was unsure who was hitting who, as both figures exchanged places several times and in rapid succession, one did a greater amount of damage to the other. Ginny somehow escaped the brawl, the baby screaming and struggling in her arms. She rushed over to where Jonathon and Ebony stood with dark expressions and apprehensive stances. The haste and urgency pumping in Ginny's blood was all that fueled her on. Her shock was weighting on her and pressuring her to pass out right there, but she kept moving. She led her children up the stairs and turned so sharply that she bumped harshly into the railing. Wincing, she pressed them all into her room; which was luckily one of the few doors in the house that actually supplied a lock. The others were the bathrooms, which were less comfortable, and the front door through which Neville had barged in to attack their family. Remembering this, and that they were not out of the woods just yet, they quickly turned the key and leaned against the door, sighing as though this simple action had solved their previous problem. But now there were fears and internal doubts to settle among the children and herself.
Ginny looked down at the baby in her arms, which had continued to scream and cry all the way to the room and persisted even now in allowing everyone to know just how upset he was. She began to rock him back and forth, unconsciously rocking herself as she did.
"It's alright, Gabe. It's alright. Shhh, shhh," She continued to try to comfort the child, and after a while, he quieted. Ebony sat quietly beside her mother, and Jonathon curled himself up on the other side of the bed, staring out into the space before him.
"Jonathon? Why don't you come over here with Mommy, sweetheart?" Ginny spoke gently.
He looked over at them, and, feeling a bit safer, began to crawl in their direction, when there was a great banging on the door. It seemed the whole room vibrated and shook, and Jonathon scooted back again.
"It's okay kids," Ginny said, frantically. "It's alright. really." It seemed she were trying to convince herself as well.
Neville's screams began to accompany the constant banging. "GINNY! I WANT TO TALK TO PANSY!!" The slur in his speech wasn't obvious, but it became clear in that sentence. Ginny led her children away once more, fearing that the lock would do them no good, or that the door wouldn't hold. In her panic, she began to lead them away again, into the bathroom. She placed Gabrielle in Jonathon's arms and commanded him to wait for her before he locked the door.
She rushed over the small bookshelf that was against the wall, and using the strength that came with adrenaline, began to push it over towards the door. When she finally made it, the noise and the banging had ceased, and Draco's muffled voice could be heard on the other side, as well as the rapid exchange of blows. Ginny dashed off to the adjoining bathroom and gripped the doorknob.
It didn't budge.
She jiggled it and tapped on the door, trying not to sound too urgent. "Jonathon, honey, let Mommy in."
"I can't!" He screamed from inside, and Ebony began to cry. "If I let you in, he'll come in too!"
"No, sweetie, he's out in the hall, but I need to get in. Unlock the door, Jonathon."
On the other side, under Ebony's cries, all Ginny heard was a slight whimper. Jonathon was weeping as well. She shouldn't have left them alone. What kind of mother was she? What had she done, other than lock her own children in a bathroom?
"It's fine, Jonathon. No one's going to hurt you," Ginny was close to pleading with the boy. She was on her knees against the door, her hand still on the knob.
He whimpered something on the other side, just as something hard and heavy hit against the door, shaking a few books off the shelf. A picture frame fell, glass shattering around the smiling anonymous faces. This noise only caused Jonathon to be more fearful of the whole situation. He began to full out bawl, holding no more tears back. Ebony only screamed louder.
Ginny was surprised to find tears rolling down her own cheeks. The day had taken such a startling turn. It was just a few minutes ago that they had been looking at her wedding, "remembering" glorious moments of the past and laughing together. Now she didn't know how Draco was or if he was even still alive, and all her children were locked up by their own despair and fear. She was cut off from all her family, alone in the room and the world. She gripped her sides and then placed a hand over her mouth to hide her sobs from her already upset children.
It was then that she realized that it was silent, and had been for a few moments then. She pressed against the wall, still too afraid to shout out to Draco or push the case back and peek out the door. She sat there, so hard against the wall that she was sure that she was making a print in it. There was so much tension in the air that Ginny could almost not stand it. She cringed at every little sound, such as the neighbor's car pulling in a driveway or the kids down the street laughing.
It was forever waiting for him and Ginny wasted all her tears. There was another thud against the door, and Ginny jumped. The children, also hearing it, screamed.
"Ginny?"
She was too relieved to answer. Her breath came easier now, but she was still fearful.
"Ginny, it's me."
At that, she stood and began to push the bookcase away from the door. It required an effort and time, but she finally pushed it over. Books and frames and pictures were scattered all over the floor, and there was a wet spot where the vase had shattered. Various flowers, all of red hues were strewn about among the glass, but Ginny stepped over it easily enough.
When she finally opened the door, she did so slowly.
********
"Where are you going, woman?" Lucius asked, wearing off his bad mood on his wife as he stepped off his broom on the castle's front grounds. She had stepped off her own, and held a bag of books on her shoulder. It was obvious to anyone that she had spent the day shopping, and for the husband to find out so quickly, before she could stash her finds anywhere, meant disaster for Narcissa. She had come prepared though, as she had known that she might have bumped into Lucius in Diagon Alley doing business and such. She dug around in various bags before she picked up what she was looking for.
It was the best piece of Blackmail he'd ever received.
He tried not to look too surprised, but Narcissa could see the look in his eyes. "Go on," She urged. "Take it." Her smile widened as he grabbed it from her. His hands trailed all over the leather bound book, and his bottom lip quivered, too excited to speak.
"The man at the counter said that that book contains even the most ancient dark magic ever recorded. It sounded spooky, so I knew you'd like it. You like dark things."
"Yes." He mumbled.
"And, you know," She waltzed over to him, a little bounce in her step. "Maybe you could figure out how to. you know."
He met her gaze with a quizzical one.
"You know.."
He shook his head, clueless.
"SAVE OUR SON!!"
"Goodness, woman, is that what you bought it for?!" He'd thought it was a gift. The upset man frowned, hoping his wife would notice.
"I want him back, Lucius, and you're going to fix him for me!!!"
"He can't be fixed! It has to be waited out-"
"NO!! YOU LIAR!"
Lucius sighed and looked at his wife's purple face. "Don't get upset," He muttered. Many students were looking around, wondering what the couple was arguing about. He was getting flashbacks.
"You can't cheer me up. You've tried and you're just TERRIBLE at it!!"
"Well-" He stuttered for a moment, trying to think up some great comeback that would shut her up permanently, but he realized from all his years with her, that that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. "Tell me what to do."
"Ask me to dance."
"WHAT?!"
"Every school dance we went to, you didn't ever ask me! Ever! I don't even know if you're a good dancer or not." She stopped for a moment and stared him down. "I know I am. I'm a great dancer. I bet I'm even better than you."
Lucius was so infuriated by this comment that he grabbed her hand and began waltzing into the school. And then it was settled.
********
"Geez, Malfoy. That's some shiner," Harry said, hoisting an unconscious Neville into the back seat of his convertible.
"Shut up, Potter," Malfoy countered, arms crossed and a scowl on his obviously hurt face. Cuts and bruises seemed to cover him entirely, mostly appearing on his arms and face. His look only worsened into hate when he looked down at the limp man who had once attacked and threatened his family. To stop himself from killing the poor fellow, Draco stomped angrily back into the house, hoping that everyone else was too tired after their ordeal to care about him.
Unfortunately, Draco did not get his wish.
"Will you show me how to fight, Dad?" Jonathon looked up at his father with unbridled admiration and determination in his eyes.
"Why would you want to know how to fight?" Draco asked, and did not wait for an answer. He sauntered over to the couch and plopped himself down on it, laying across and shielding his eyes from the light in the room with a damaged arm. He lay still for a moment, not moving for fear of causing himself more pain. He saw through his torn sleeve that Ebony was standing beside the couch, staring down at him.
"What is it?" He asked tiredly.
"I think you're great," She said, in her own soft quiet tone. "That's all." With that final thought, she walked upstairs to where her mother was setting the baby in the crib and asked politely to be tucked in and have a story read to her. Jonathon could be heard asking the same, but claimed he didn't need the story or the good night kiss. He had already settled in his bed after taking one last look at his brave and valiant father.
Draco thought he'd have at least enough time to lie back on the couch and try to get some sleep, or strike a pose that would make Ginny believe he was sleeping, but he wasn't so lucky. Ginny's quick footsteps were so quick that if there had not been a creak in the last stair, he would not have been able to prepare himself for his onslaught. As soon as she reached the couch, he braced himself. She lunged at him, so quickly that he didn't even have a chance to catch the look on her face before she buried it in his shoulder. He winced openly at his pain, but she did not notice. It took a concentrated effort for Ginny to keep her sobs quiet, and she could think of nothing else than what was plaguing her right at that moment.
"Ginny," Draco whispered, aware that the children upstairs were sleeping. He tried to pull her away from him, to reason with her, to tell her that all this crying was foolishness. He was fine. Tears won't solve anything now. You're such a baby.
But as he pulled her away from him and kept his grip firm on her shoulders as though to reinforce his words, he could not bring himself to say anything. The look on her face, more than worry, but of dread and fear, and that more horrid emotion that came with vulnerability took on forms and voices of their own and seemed to pierce his cheeks and eyes so that he felt that if he did not blink fast enough, tears might fall. His throat tightened itself to prevent any harsh curses or insults to fly out in his own defense, or even a kind word to comfort Ginny. He could say nothing, and so, he merely pulled her back to her former position and hugged her again.
A small gasp escaped her lips as his hand settled on her hip. Draco quickly tensed and released her, a small fear rising in his chest. Ginny sat back on the floor and raised her shirt up a little bit, examining her side. A large bruise had formed, its ugly purple and yellows stretching through most of her hip and side. Just looking at it made Draco wince, and Ginny frowned, a new onslaught of tears ready to show themselves.
"It's so ugly!" She whined. "Look at it! I can't wear white blouses or a two-piece bathing suit otherwise," She looked up at Draco who was bursting with laughter ready to come out. "People will think you abuse me!!"
"Abuse you? With all my injuries, they'll more likely think you hit me!"
At this Ginny was able to laugh, but it quickly subsided. All that was left in her was a heavy sigh, which she heaved with desperation gilding the edges. Draco slid down off the couch to lean against it as he sat on the floor, closer to his wife. He too, gave a sigh, though his seemed more like a yawn.
"I'm so tired."
Ginny took her attention from her bruised side to look at the amount of damage done to him. His bruises were many, and all of them far worse than what she sported. He leaned his head against one of the cushions, and as his neck tilted, she could see a few cuts done there. She assumed that not only had Neville's fists done damage, but his nails had also aided in the onslaught, and small outlines of his wedding band were just now fading from Draco's skin.
"You look tired. You got pretty banged up, there, Draco." Ginny added, still staring at him. Her gaze wouldn't waver, no matter how much she tried to make it. He met it, lazily.
"Where are we, Ginny?" He drawled, his eyes half-shut but his mind still working well enough to perform conversation.
"Where are we?" She echoed. "We're in Florida. In the U.S. We're in our home."
At that he shook his head, unwilling to accept it. "We can't take that, Ginny. This isn't home. We're a million miles away from home."
Suddenly realizing this, a small gasp came to her. She put a delicate hand to her lips, as though stopping the slew of curses she wanted to speak. Everything began to come to her so quickly-Hogwarts, her parents, her friends, The Burrow, her brothers, the Ministry, moving pictures, chocolate frogs, everything rushed back through her mind at such a speed that she had to press a hand against the floor to steady herself. "Oh my word." She whispered, surprise still etched on her features. "I didn't remember. Draco, I. I haven't remembered anything in days! Not even Harry's stupid Quidditch jacket could remind me! I just, I-" Those were the last intelligible words Ginny spoke before she started sputtering little things in short gasps. She seemed, in her state, so scared that she was barely able to breath, and reacting to this, Draco reached out and brought her to him.
"Ginny, it's okay. Ginny," How many times did he have to calm this woman down? This time, however, he was mindful of her hip and spoke a bit louder to get through to her past the little spouts she was emitting. He was forceful enough to get his point across, but at the same, gentle so that she wouldn't continue to panic any further. "Ginny, what are you so afraid of?"
A small blush appeared on her cheeks, but other than that, she showed no signs of wanting to say. He had to stare at her a long while to get it out of her, but eventually his efforts were awarded. She looked away as she said it, too embarrassed to meet his gaze anymore. "You," She said softly.
"Me?" Draco did a double take.
"Well, losing you," She corrected herself. "I mean, what if we wake up from this dream and don't remember a thing? What if we wake up tomorrow and we're still here and we don't remember home anymore? Or. what if I'm just still in Potions, comatose, and daydreaming! Which. which life is real?"
She looked back to him to see a huge grin on his face in spite of what she just said. She had expected a serious expression, but instead she saw a man who looked like he was about to double over with laughter, taking her with him, no doubt. "What?!" She shouted, defensively.
"You don't want to lose me," He chuckled. "I think you like me." His smile grew wider until he resembled the Cheshire Cat, and Ginny, a confused Alice, lost in a wonderland that turned out to be, most suspiciously, a strange emotion that put her on a kind of high.
Ginny scoffed, unable to think of any other reaction to supply him that wouldn't give him an ego trip. "Please. Who would like a little Slytherin snot like you?"
"You know you do."
"I do not! Draco! I'm trying to be serious here! There is a problem on our hands!" She donned an annoyed expression, guarding against the smile that was twitching on the edges of her lips, trying to show itself.
"You're right. You're in denial." He looked down at her, so sure of his assessment.
Appearing shocked, she half-screamed at him,"I am not in denial!"
"See? I told you so. I guess I should have seen this coming, though. I am irresistible."
She scoffed again. "I think I'm resisting you pretty well." In defense, she crossed her arms as though proving just how well she could keep a distance between them. This statement was sort of hard to say, though, when she was sitting right beside him.
"You're fighting it. It's an effort. It drains you emotionally every day which is why you're such a pill right now." He stared her down like some sort of psychologist, diagnosing her with an imaginary disorder that was putting her under the weather constantly. Though Ginny was leaning against the couch, she felt as though she were trapped in a box, nowhere to go. Though cornered, she knew she still had some ammo left in her, but Draco wouldn't have it. "Poor Ginny. So confused. Why don't you just admit it, doll? That'd make things better."
She resisted the urge to scoff in his face again. It was become a frequent habit, really. Instead, she sneered, put on a look of assurance, and leaned in a little closer as though she were going to whisper something. "Spare me, Draco. You just want me to say it so that you can finally get your declaration of love off your chest. It's weighing you down. You're emotionally drained. Why don't you just let it out?" Her little smirk widened until a full-blown smile was in its place. She was looking at an expression on Draco that she, nor anyone else at Hogwarts had ever seen before. He was embarrassed, stuttering, confused, hesitating-he was almost scared that Ginny would get the best of him here.
"That's a nice little lie. What's next, Ginny? Bank robbery?"
"I was thinking about it."
"You wouldn't be able to pull it off by yourself. You're too clumsy."
"I guess I'd just have to take you along with me, then, won't I, Clyde?"
Late that night, one could find the pair still talking, laughing, arguing, or having little poke-fights in which they would each aim at each other's injuries. Needless to say, Draco lost this.
*******
As planned, the fic is getting darker. oooo... Sometimes I just get in these violent moods and rather than beat my pillows or my sisters (which doesn't ever work out so hot because they always hit back, and harder) I end up writing things like this. Torture and angst! Or just hopeless situations that shouldn't have happened altogether and may never have fit into the plot.
This, however, did! I know the little scuffle seemed a little pointless on its own in this chapter, but later in the fic it's going to tie into a lot. Thanks to all of you who have been so patient! I love you all, guys!
Yeah, Maura Belle