"My Lord, please tell me that this is a joke..." Rachel backed up into the wall behind her, eyes wide as saucers. "But of course I am, Dear Rachel," Voldemort had a faraway look on his face. "What could be better than having the two families most loyal and important to my cause mate?" "But My Lord," Rachel took a deep breath. "I will be of little use to you if I am with child." "True," Voldemort scratched his chin. "But it shall not be right away." He clasped his hands on both Rachel and Draco's shoulders. "There is a prophecy at work here, Dearest Malfoys," He grinned. "You shall see." He left them with that last speech, closing the front door behind him gently. "Rachel, why don't you sit down..." Draco could see her shaking and led her to the sofa by the arm. "Why didn't you say anything?" "What do you mean, Love?" Draco raised his brow as Rachel pulled her arm away from his grasp. "Why didn't you protest to this!" She stood up. "Why did you not defend me? I AM your wife!" "Rachel, you know it is not best to argue with the Dark Lord." He took her hands into his. "You still could have said SOMETHING, instead of standing there mute." "Stop." Draco's voice was startling, his grip starting to hurt her hands. "Excuse me?" She took her hands away from his. "I said stop. I do not want to hear your whining anymore!" His cheeks tinged pink above the cheekbones that cut his face so handsomely. "All you do is whine and complain about EVERYTHING!" "I do not!" Rachel's own pale face was starting to become hot with anger. "What is wrong with you, Draco! You haven't acted like this for ages." "And YOU- you," He took a deep breath. "Never mind. Forget it, I apologize..." He shook his head. "YOU apologize? Well, so do I- I am sorry that you will have to sleep on the chaise tonight!" She stormed towards the staircase. "Rachel, wait!" He followed her, reaching out to stop her. "EXPELLIARMUS!" She screamed, her spell throwing Draco to the floor. He got up in time to hear the slamming of their bedroom door. "Shit!" He spat, throwing the closest object across the room. "Rachel. Rachel! RACHEL, ANSWER ME DAMN IT!" He took the stairs with heavy feet and walked right into something solid. "She put up a... bloody Hell!" He punched at the invisible barrier, cursing with his vexation.
Harry wrung his hands three times before hesitantly reaching for the doorknob, which he used to push open a white door gently. "Harry?" The voice came from the opposite wall, next to an open window. "Hey Ginny." He gave her a small smile and bit back his grief. Ginny Weasley had always been a strong little spitfire and he had hated seeing her like this. A surprise attack had left her unconscious, the only survivor of a small camp of wizards and witches that were protecting nearby muggle villages. "How are you feeling?" "Better." She gave him a smile as bright as her hair, though of a different color. "How are you?" "Me?" Harry choked on the word slightly. "Don't worry about me," He approached her hospital bed and grasped her hand gently. "My concern is for you." There was a moment where they just smiled at each other, broken by a cough from Ginny. "Excuse me." She apologized. "What happened, Gin?" Harry felt something squeezing his heart. "Malfoy." She frowned. "Him and his wife with their troupe." She coughed again, more dry than the first time and Harry passed her a glass of water. "Malfoy..." Harry clenched his fist, his face reddening with rage and hatred. "He's been doing a lot of damage lately." "I know, Harry." Ginny pat his hand. "I know how you feel. Malfoy is a bastard. Worse," She put on a humorously thoughtful face. "He's worse than the dragon-pox blisters on a bastards arse!" Harry chuckled a bit. "Worse than that! He is the pus that OOZES from the blisters!" Ginny exclaimed, laughing along with Harry before another cough broke them off. "I'm going to make him pay, Ginny." All the laughter disappeared from Harry's eyes and his knuckles had turned white from making them into fists. "I don't know how, but I will."
Sirius took a deep breath before re-entering his home. He found the foyer to be thankfully empty and hung his cloak up on the coat rack. "How did it go, Sirius?" The voice made him frown. Sirius was not very pleased with the results of his discussion with his niece. "Hullo, Hermione." He gave her a small smile. "Is there any tea?" "In the parlor." She gave him a nod, trying to read his eyes. Sirius took a sip of the steamy liquid and gave an approving sound. "It did not go quite the way I had hoped it would." He frowned, taking another sip of the amber brew. "She loves him, Hermione, she really does love him." "Oh," Hermione frowned as well, letting her shoulders sink. "Well, at least you know that she is happy." She suggested. "Yes, at least there's that." They both sipped their tea in silence. "Hello hello." A female voice came from the fireplace grate. "Rachel?" Sirius spat his tea out onto the floor. Rachel walked out of the grate, her arms crossed, cheeks flustered and hair slightly disheveled. "What are you doing Here!"
