Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and her publishers. No copyright infringement is intended with this story.

Draco's Destiny

By: Eugenia

Chapter 8: Surprises

"Ginny! What are you doing?" exclaimed Molly Weasley. "That's no way to treat a guest!"

"A guest?" echoed Ginny softly.

"Yes, I invited him over for lunch today."

"But—mum!"

"Honestly, Ginny. Where are your manners?" Mrs. Weasley approached Draco. "Are you alright, dear?"

"Hello, Molly. Yes, I'm fine. There's nothing to worry about. Is that your wonderful cooking I smell?"

Mrs. Weasley chuckled like a young schoolgirl. "I'm pleased you like it. Is your mother well?"

"As well as could be hoped." Draco replied, his eyes scanning around the room.

"How much time do you have this time, dear?"

"Mum's covering for me, so I should have longer than usual."

"Good. Now make yourself at home. I think you know almost everyone here. I need to get back to the kitchen for some last minute preparations. Enjoy!"

"Thanks, Molly."

Harry seemed to have awoken from whatever spell had frozen him since Draco's arrival. "You could have just slammed the door on his face," he told Ginny flatly.

She shrugged slightly, shaking her head. "No, he would have just come back."

Draco watched this exchange with a bemused smile on his face. "Ahem," he cleared his throat. "I'm in the room in case you haven't noticed."

Ginny turned to glare at him and exclaimed with rage, "Noticed? How could we not bloody notice you're here, Malfoy?"

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, I must say that I thought the odds of you being invited to a Weasley gathering were likely nil."

Ginny was not amused, though. She was looking at Draco as if he'd just been snogging her mum. Or any other member of her family, for that matter. Harry had never seen her this angry.

Draco, however, stood there swimming in insolence. "I'd never turn down an invitation to home cooking."

"What about at your home? Isn't there some grand Malfoy banquet that you're supposed to attend today?" She asked a bit hopeful and bewildered all at once.

"Nah, that was last night. We do presents on Christmas Eve at midnight." He said with a wry smile.

"I hate you!" Ginny spat unexpectedly at Draco.

"I get that a lot from Gryffindors," replied Draco nonchalantly.

Ron walked into the room with a subtle expression of disbelief on his face. He greeted Draco stiffly, but without the pure hatred that had always intervened between them.

"You knew?" Ginny asked Ron, her voice tense.

"Mum just told me," he replied, "and don't look at me like I'm the one who betrayed you, Ginny. It's Christmas!"

"Ugh!" Ginny said and stomped up the stairs.

There was an awkward silence as Ron, Harry, and Draco stood together, surveying each other uncomfortably.

Draco took advantage of this moment to glance around at his surroundings. It was his first time in the Burrow, and while it was nowhere near as grand as his own house, the Burrow had a quality not present in Malfoy Manor. Straight ahead of him was a wooden staircase that spiraled high above. Along the walls of the stairs were portraits of the various Weasley children throughout different stages of their lifetimes. It seemed like the first floor started with the baby pictures, and the kids seemed to grow as the stairs rose higher.

On Draco's left was what looked like a sitting room. There was a roaring fire in the brick fireplace, very different from the grandiose, marble fireplaces of the Manor. Everything seemed much cozier in the Burrow. Across from the fire was a large brown suede sofa surrounded by several armchairs with various colorful wool blankets splayed across them. In the back corner was a piano that was enchanted to play Christmas carols. It was currently playing "Adeste Fideles." The music seemed to seep into his bones, but what he felt when he saw the Weasleys' Christmas tree was nothing compared to that.

The tree itself was a large, beautiful pine tree with flecks of real snow on its branches. It was decorated with translucent, golden bows, and underneath each bow, was a picture of each member of the Weasley family. Draco walked closer to it, mesmerized not by its beauty, but by the comfort and joy that radiated from it.

"Um, yeah, come into the living room, Malfoy," Ron said out of courtesy, since it was obvious that Draco was already inside.

But Draco was not paying attention to them. Something on the tree had caught his attention. There were other people on the tree, not just the Weasleys. Draco could now see the pictures more clearly. Surrounding the Weasley family, were pictures of Harry, Hermione, Lupin, a couple of witches he did not recognize, and…Draco gasped. He saw a picture of himself, grinning madly on the tree, waving back at him.

There was an audible popping noise in the room, and Fred appeared behind them. "Food's ready," he told them, surveying Draco with distrust.

They all turned to follow Fred, but Harry grabbed Ron's arm to stop him. "We'll be there in a minute," Harry said.

Fred nodded in response.

When Fred and Draco had gone, Harry demanded, "What's going on, Ron? What's Malfoy doing here and why is your mum treating him like one of the family?"

"I dunno, Harry. I wasn't told he'd be here."

"But it doesn't make any sense! I mean, they're acting like they're old friends or something. I don't even call you mum 'Molly,' and I've know her for six years."

Ginny sat at her dinning room table, surrounded by the people she loved. Well, except for Draco and for the fact that three of her brothers were missing. Percy still wasn't talking to the family. Bill and Charlie had both left earlier that morning to spend the day with their girlfriends' families.

She felt a bit guilty over having hit Draco, but from the way he was wholeheartedly conversing with her father, she assumed no permanent damage had been caused.

Seeing Draco at the front door had somehow felt like a personal insult. She bet it had something to do with her wounded pride, but she would not dwell on that. Instead, she kept reliving her moment of audacity. Punching Draco had been exhilarating. However, Hermione had taken all the fun out of it. Hermione had gone upstairs to tell her that lunch was ready, but ended up making her feel guilty and childish.

Hermione had looked eerily like Professor McGonagall when she had said, "You need to be more careful, Ginny. I know that it's tempting to play 'hard to get,' but I think you crossed the line by punching him."

"I wasn't playing at anything. He just makes me so mad I just…I don't know…I know violence is not the way to go, but it made me feel so alive—he makes me feel alive." Ginny sighed.

"Nevertheless, I don't think this is the way to go. It's not safe to lose control every time you see him, Ginny. We don't know what side he's playing on and until we do, we're going to have to watch what we do or say around him."

"I hate this, Hermione. It hurts so much to see him. I don't know what he's doing here today or why my parents invited him."

"We'll just have to find out. Don't worry, we're in this together."

"No, we're not. You don't feel this way. I'm so scared that I'm going to snap and lose control around him."

"I'll stay by your side today. I won't let you do something you'd later regret."

"Thanks."

Ginny now looked at Hermione, who sat on her right talking to Harry across the table. Hermione was telling Harry a funny anecdote about a previous Christmas when she had been on pain medication for her injured ankle. Harry was laughing so hard he almost chocked on the turkey in his mouth.

"Right, so I was trying to prove that my ankle didn't hurt so they would let me go over to my friend's house that day. I couldn't think of anything better to do than to attempt to dance with a sprained ankle. I was seven years old. It seemed like the logical thing to do at the time…honestly, how was I supposed to know I'd actually end up literally breaking a leg?"

On Ginny's left was her father, and across from her sat Draco. It was such a disturbing sight watching Draco talk to her father amicably. She kept pinching herself under the table just to make sure she was not dreaming, but then again, all she had to do was glance at the puzzled look on Ron's face to know he was thinking the same thing. After all, Ron was sitting between Draco and Harry, who hated each other but were both on friendly terms with him. Luckily there was so much food and conversation around them that they could just pretend everything was normal. Or at least they were doing it just fine until lunch was suddenly interrupted by a large, black owl pecking loudly on the window pane.

Many things happened all at once. Draco went pale and ducked under the table, unfortunately pulling half its contents on himself during the process, while Ron screamed as the dishes full of food flew in his direction. In the meantime, Mr. Weasley jumped out of his chair, wand in hand, and walked quickly towards the window.

"SILENCE!" Mrs. Weasley screamed over all the noise. "Arthur? What is it?"

"It looks like it's just an owl, Molly. I'm going to let it in." Mr. Weasley began to reach towards the window latch.

"NO! It's a Malfoy owl. Potter, give me your invisibility cloak NOW!" commanded Draco from under the table.

"What? I'm not—I don't have an invi-," Harry began.

"Harry, dear, please get it for him. And hurry."

Harry sighed like a reprimanded child as he looked at Mrs. Weasley's stern face. "Alright."

As Harry dashed up to Ron's room and ran back downstairs with the cloak, Ginny helped her mum straighten the mess. Ginny wanted to ask what was happening, but every time she opened her mouth to speak, her mum shook her head as if to say 'not right now.' Everyone tried to act normally, but she could see it was hard for Fred and George who were trying very hard no to laugh at Draco. They literally looked like they were about to burst.

When Harry returned, he sat back down and slipped the cloak underneath the table to Draco, who instantly put it on and disappeared from sight.

Mr. Weasley cautiously opened the window, and the owl screeched with joy as it dropped an envelope in front of Ginny, landed on the table, and began to sip water from her glass. Ginny gasped in surprise, and looked up to find all her family and their guests looking at her expectantly.

"Well, go on, Ginny. Open it," her father encouraged her.

Inside the envelope was the most extravagant piece of parchment she had ever seen. The letters were in glowing gold cursive. She read it once, paused, and read it again. Then she laughed, a combination of disbelief and sweet vengeance rising up in her.

"It seems," she began, "I've been invited to a ball."

A large 'thud' noise came from under the table, and everyone began to talk all at once.

"Ouch!" Draco exclaimed as he rubbed the spot on his head where he had hit on the table. Ginny was invited to the Malfoy New Year's Ball? He could not even begin to comprehend. Instead, he just sat there, invisible to the world, his shirt covered in food, while everyone else above the table asked all the questions he was thinking but too stunned to ask.

"A ball, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked in a tone that suggested her daughter was confused.

"Yes, mum, you know what a ball is: a dance, a gathering, a celebration. I've been to one before, you know."

"Ah, yes. The Yule Ball." Her father sat down again. "My princess is all grown up—"

"DAD!" Ginny practically screamed, "We have company."

"What ball?" Ron asked as he chewed on a slice of garlic bread.

"It's the Malfoy's Annual New Year's Eve Ball," Ginny replied.

"Who invited you?" asked Harry.

"Well, that's the thing. I have a personal invitation as a friend of the family, which is odd really, considering…"

"From Lucius?" Mr. Weasley asked as he and his wife exchanged 'A Look.'

"Yes…"

"You can't go," said a voice from below the table.

"Did you hear something?" George said to Fred.

"Nah, must have been the nasty ferret that's been haunting our dining room table," Fred replied.

"Yeah, we're going to have to set some traps for the little fellow." George took a pink piece of candy from his pocket. "Here little ferret. Here's some yummy candy."

Fred chuckled and said, "Eat it and you just might become a real ferret."

"Knock it off you two." Mrs. Weasley shot her boys an annoyed glace.

"Yes, mum," they said in unison.

As the owl flew back out the window, Draco crawled from under the table and took off the invisibility cloak to reveal the grandiose, less-than-appetizing mess on his clothes.

Mrs. Weasley took charge the second she spotted him. "Ron, sweetheart, why don't you go upstairs and help Draco get cleaned up. Draco, I can clean your shirt before you go home if you don't mind sticking around for a bit. Why don't you boys play some quidditch this afternoon? You'd have plenty of players for a decent game."

After she finished helping her mother wash the dishes, Ginny sat by the fire and curled up with her copy of Witch Flies West. Her brothers, Harry, and Draco had gone outside to play Quidditch. Her parents had apparated away to visit their Aunt Cecilia and wish her a merry Christmas.

Hermione had joined Ginny and was busy reading what looked like a heavy textbook. Ginny could see that she was obviously having trouble staying awake. Hermione's eyelids would slowly come down, and then they would suddenly flutter back open.

At last, Hermione glanced at Ginny and asked, "What are you reading?"

"Witch Flies West by Gertrude Ledwoling."

"What's it about?"

Ginny filled her in on the basic plot and watched as Hermione miraculously became completely alert. Ginny wondered if Hermione had ever bothered to read "trashy" novels. It seemed that for all her previous disinterest in them, Hermione was suddenly gripped.

"Oooh, so what kind of curse did Yvonne use?" Hermione asked intriguingly.

Ginny actually blushed. "Do you remember how Jacques had said he'd show Melanie his broomstick? Yeah, well, Yvonne cast a spell to prevent the broomstick from working properly."

"But how is that a curse on the relationship? It's not as if Jacques' broomstick…oh, I get it. Broomstick." Hermione looked away sheepishly.

"Um, yeah, Melanie was really broken up about it, but she claimed to love him anyway," Ginny continued to explain.

"Right, right. As if she really could love the poor bloke after having known him for one whole day." She did not sound too convinced.

"Hermione, it's supposed to be a romance novel. Anyway, Jacques ends up getting sloshed, and Melanie's left to tend to him the following morning when he has a humongous hangover."

"Typical!" said Hermione indignantly, though quite amused.

"That's not all. Then he--" Ginny began but suddenly stopped.

They were interrupted when they heard a loud scream coming from the back yard. Both girls jumped out of their chairs and headed quickly for the source of the sound. When they reached the door to the yard, the first thing that Ginny noticed was the blinding sunlight. Something's gone wrong. Very wrong, she thought as she tried to quench the rising panic.

She felt Hermione brush past her as Ginny stopped to survey the scene beholding her. Her brothers and Harry were all there, standing together in a circle, as if they were huddling. However, there were not looking at each other, but seemed to be staring at the ground in the middle of the circle they had formed.

Draco was lying on the ground, clutching his left arm. His face was contorted in pain, and he was shaking from side to side on the ground, making a shapeless pattern in the snow. His skin and hair were so pale that he could have blended right in with the white surrounding, but his black cloak made a drastic contrast with the snow. She could not see any blood around him; there was no trace of red to indicate any blood. His arm did not seem broken, either, and Ginny wondered what was causing the pain.

She let her knees unlock and found herself kneeling next to him, all thoughts of her anger at him vanished as concern swept her mind. If she had not looked at him, she would never have known he was suffering. He did not moan or complain of any pain. His eyes were shut tight; his lips had turned slightly purple and were stretched thin. Draco's right hand was bare, the black leather glove forgotten in the ordeal, and his pale fingers clutched at his left forearm.

Ginny grabbed Draco's injured arm and began by removing his other glove. Then she pushed up his cloak and shirt, slowly revealing his arm. When she reached the point where his hand covered his arm, she had to pry his fingers off in order to finish uncovering what she thought was a wound.

Ginny felt her eyes water as she saw what was causing Draco the unbearable pain. She heard Hermione gasp and Harry curse. She felt Ron stiffen behind her and her other brothers shift closer to see. Her attention was drawn to Draco's arm, where a tattoo of a serpent rising from inside a skull was drawn in what seemed to be black ink. Black steam was rising from the mark, and Ginny bent down and blew on it.

Draco was now watching as Ginny puckered her lips and blew cold air on his burning arm. A sigh escaped his lips. His eyes met hers, and he regretted it instantly, for he had been torn by what he had seen in them.

Ginny looked down at him, a confusion of feelings overtaking her: betrayal, anger, disappointment and, worst of all, hate. She stared at his arm, as if by will she could erase what she saw there. Her heart sinking, she had never felt such hurt in her soul. She ached silently as she looked at the symbol she knew so well: it was the dark mark.

Author's Note: Hey guys! This chapter is short but was very fun for me to write, and I hope it was a nice change from the constantdramafrom previous chapters. Chapter nine should be exciting, with more action as emotions run wild (not to mention the upcoming Ball at the Malfoy's should be really interesting). Sorry this one took so long to go up; Iexpect the next won't take nearly as long :-)