Disclaimer: I don't own this. J.K. Rowling does. Well, most of it.

Thanks to those who reviewed the first chapter. It made me really happy. Well, here is the second chapter, I hope you enjoy.

Chapter Two--Living a Lie

Ginny was on the edge of insanity. What was she thinking, starting a family now? Being twenty years old and having a husband and a child was too much to handle for her.

Harry had left for work that morning and James was crying in his crib. She massaged her temples and headed downstairs to the nursery.

As soon as she entered the room her son stopped crying and looked up at her with devilment on his face. She shook her head and glared back down at him.

"James, what am I going to do with you?" she asked reaching down to pick him up. She brushed his reddish brown hair out of his chubby face and put him on her hip. He was a quaint little one, though he seemed to be smarter than the average nine month old.

Down in the kitchen she placed him in his high chair and got some baby food for him to eat. She looked out the window and a brown owl was tapping on the glass. Surprisingly she found a letter from Hermione.

Ginny,

How is it going? I was going to be in the area this week I was going to drop by. My company is about to open up a bookstore in Hogsmeade and I was wondering if you wanted to get away and join me for the weekend. McGonagall said that we could use a room at Hogwarts. I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind. So, owl me back if you decide to.

Love, Hermione

P.S. Tell Harry and James I said hi and that I love them, too. Oh, and please give Cheddar some owl food please.

She responded to the letter with a maybe. She wasn't sure if she could find a babysitter for James, and as much as she hated to admit it she didn't know if Harry was adept of taking care of his son alone.

The window was still cracked enough for little Pig to fly in with another letter. The green, pink, and purple envelope turned out to contain an invitation to Luna and Neville's wedding. Ginny smiled at this thought, always knowing that someday those two would end up together.

James had made a mess with his food, again. Getting a rag and cleaning it up, she scolded him and gave him a juice cup instead.

It was quiet on the top floor of the mysterious house to which he had been brought. Of course, he didn't remember anything about the night before, except for a redheaded beauty coming to his rescue. Maybe that was a little bit of an embellishment, but that was all that came to mind away from the events that took place before.

He sat up in bed, the coolness of the room hitting his bare chest, causing the boy to shiver and retreat back under the warm covers. He could hear faint voices below him, though decided against venturing off to find out whom they belonged to.

Gray eyes studied the room intently, taking note of the antique cabinet against the north wall, the floor-length mirror next to it, and the small dirty window on the south wall. On the wooden floor rested a small flowered rug, ugly as hell and looking as if it had been there for centuries. He looked up into what seemed eternity. The ceiling was higher than the one in his room at the Mansion.

His focus was distracted when he heard footsteps on the staircase in the distance. The old-fashioned knob on the door was being turned and in popped a bush of red hair. Weasley red hair.

He practically jumped out of his skin. Was he in the Weasley's house?

"Oh, you're awake," said the older plump woman, with a look mixed with shock and dread on her face. Without hesitation she closed the door and he could hear her rushing back down the stairs.
Louder voices preceded the door bursting open. In walked two tall men and a younger woman. The first man had long, scraggly hair and a stubby beard. The black man was bald with an earring in one ear. The woman had blue hair and was making popping noises with her gum.

"Draco Malfoy," said the first one, apprehensively. "Mundungus Fletcher."

He held out his hand to shake. In return Draco just stared blankly at it. "What the fuck is going on?"

"You were found by a member of the Order a week ago in the Forbidden Forest. She said you were a foot from death. Needless to say, we brought you back here, mind you, you were unconscious, and we didn't take anything from you 'cept your wand," said the second wizard, indicating to the wand in his hand.

"Who are you people and where the hell am I?" said Draco, angrily.

"Kingsley Shacklebot's the name, and this here," identifying the woman, "is Tonks."

"Right now you are in the secret Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

Draco's fury changed to a look of amusement. "Are you people mad? Don't you know who I am, and who my father is? Don't you know who he works for?"

"Yes, your father, Lucius, happens to have been the right-hand man of the Dark Lord. And yes, we do understand the risk that we are taking by keeping you here. On that note, we ask you to never leave this house. We also ask you to not make contact with the outside world."

"So basically I'm a prisoner of war?" he asked, astounded. "You can't keep me here against my will!"

"Okay, Mister Malfoy. If you feel the need to leave go ahead. We already know that the Dark Lord is looking for you. And I am sorry to be the one to inform you, but your parents are dead."

"What?" he asked quietly. How could his mother be dead? Why couldn't I have just killed that old fool? "You're lying!"

He knew they weren't lying. Voldemort didn't play games, and if he couldn't get Draco right away he would go for the next best person; his mother. His father had it coming to him, not that Draco cared much about him.

"Sorry, Draco, but it is true. You are also being hunted by the Ministry as well."

"So what am I supposed to do?" he yelled heatedly.

"We want you to come to the good side. Of course you are too young to join the Order, but you would just stay here until the war is over and it would be safe for you to go back into the Wizarding World. We are willing to help you if you decide to help us."

"The good side? Hold on, the ministry wants to arrest me? What the fuck?" he cried. He couldn't believe this was happening. The three just looked at him as he buried his face into the pillow. When they sensed he was crying, they left the room, deciding to return later.

Draco woke up in a cold sweat, looking around the room of his Hogwart's quarters. He had the dream again. It was like someone put it in his mind to torture him. No matter what he tried; no matter how many people he had gone to for advice, the dream would never go away.

His mother was sitting in her room, when his father came in and forced her on the bed, taking advantage of her fragile form. Draco knew this was not the first time for such a thing to occur, but it is horrible to witness it happening to the only person who seemed to care about you.

Lucius showed no mercy. He could have killed her painlessly, but instead he tortured the fair-haired woman for hours until he finally got tired of it. Killing was far from foreign to him. He did it everyday. The only difference was this was his wife; he did this everyday, forcing her to suffer constantly.

Draco was losing sleep over this dream. It seemed ever since he ran from Snape in the Forbidden Forest it occurred at least three times a week. Doing what he always did when awakened in this manner, he walked to his small kitchen and put some tea on the stove, his recent remedy for this particular sleeping problem of his. For some reason it relaxed him. Maybe it was because Ginny would always make him tea.

Life was a nightmare. Finding out that Emma was pregnant, and then that she was through with him. There was nothing that could raise his spirits, or so it seemed.

After downing five cups, it was time for a trip to the bathroom. He returned to bed, only to toss for a half an hour before surrendering. There were papers to be graded and why do later what you could do now.

The doorbell rang, and the young gentleman hurried to answer it, not used to having this many visitors in one night. His father, whom he had not heard from in a year, had just left his apartment, and now another surprise visit. Though little did he know he was not ready for what was about to happen.

When he threw the door open he found his girlfriend standing before him. Shouldn't she be in school? he thought to himself. Oh well, at least she was here now. The couple only got to see each other on the holidays, and could only talk by writing each other.

"Emma, what are you doing here?" he said as she leaped into his arms for a warm embrace, while letting the cold air from outside breeze in.

"What? Are you not happy to see me, Michael?" she said, lightheartedly. She knew he would be shocked. He was the kind of person that liked everything planned out. Their lips met in a kiss and he squeezed her tightly for what seemed like eternity. Finally, they let go and looked at each other.
"I just wanted to come see you. I mean, we never get to see each other, right?"

"Yeah, but how did you get out of school?"

"I got permission from McGonagall." Emma looked at him with hopefulness and fear in her eyes. He could sense whatever reason she was here was not too great. He ignored it and pretended like nothing was wrong.

"Well, how about we sit down and catch up. Would you like a drink?"

She nodded and he headed toward the refrigerator and got her favorite soda. The couple sat across from each other at the table. "My dad came by right before you showed up."

"Really? What for?"

"He was just telling me that he was back in the country. We talked about Africa a little bit, but I guess I seemed a little annoyed and so he left."

"So that is where he was for year, and he didn't even bother to tell you until now." Michael and his father never had a great relationship, and when his mother and brother were killed during the war, Michael seemed to have lost contact with the real world in a way.

"Yeah. It doesn't bother me that much, though. He was never really there for me, anyways."

"Oh." Emma knew that his father was a sensitive subject so she decided to move on. "Well, how is work?"

"Work? It's not going too good. I hate being an intern. They work me way too hard for what they pay me. I just can't wait until I move up and have my own office." He noticed that she had sucked down the soda pretty quickly and offered her another one. She declined, but asked for some water instead.

"How about school?" he asked her, forgetting why she was here in the first place. "Are you getting good marks?"

"Oh, school's alright. I am thinking about leaving early."

"Really? Why? Don't you still need to take your NEWTs?" He looked at her skeptically.

"Well, actually, there was something that I wanted to tell you, Michael," she took a deep breath and stared him in his chocolate eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he replied as a question, slightly confused.

"What I came here to tell you was- I mean, what I am trying to say is that-" she stuttered through her sentence, afraid of what his response would be.

"Well?"

"I'm pregnant."

"What?" he said astonished. Even more confused that before, he began to sweat awkwardly. "What are you talking about, Emma. We haven't even been together since… like, Halloween."

"I know."

"How many months pregnant are you?" he asked, astounded, looking at her stomach, which showed only a small bulge.

"Well, you see, I am only six weeks pregnant."

"Six weeks?" he said, feeling faint. How could the only person he cared about anymore betray him like this, again? "Six weeks?"

"Yes. I know you won't believe me if I told you it was yours."

"How could you do this to me, Emma? Again?" he was on the verge of tears. He was not usually a sensitive man, but so much had been happening to him that he had suddenly lost control of his emotions.

"Michael, I'm sorry. I still want to be with you. I wanted to ask you to be the father."

"What about it's real father?"

"He is not in the picture. It was a one-night stand. I got wasted at a Christmas party and it was an accident. But I can't punish this baby by not letting it have a father. What if it is a boy? You know you've always wanted a son." Emma looked at her boyfriend with a spark of hope.

"Do you understand how much I am going through? Why did you have to do this now?" he demanded, angrily. "Emma, I don't know how much more of this I can take. Not from you. I'm too young to help raise a child. I'm only eighteen!"

"What about me? I can't do this by myself, you know."

He could see the tears coming out of her eyes, fearing the inevitable that was about the happen. "I love you Emma, but we can't see each other, and I can't help you take care of that baby. You got yourself in this mess, so go find your way out."

"But, Michael," she began, looking at him through glistened eyes, "I love you."

"Emma. Do you understand where I am coming from? I can't do this again. I loved you, and trusted you enough to take you back the first time you cheated on me. And now you're pregnant! How can I believe you this time when you tell me that you love me?"

"Michael, please don't do this to me. I need you," she begged desperately.

"No, I think it is time for you to leave. My house and my life."

"NO, Michael, please," she begged, as he stood up, grabbed a can of soda from the refrigerator, and handed it to her. She was sobbing now. She knew she did this to herself. She was sure Michael would understand and take her back, but she was wrong.

"Good-bye, Emma." Michael walked over to the door and opened it. Emma reluctantly got up and put her arms around him one last time. He returned her hug, and watched her walk out the door.

The man closed the door and sat down on his sofa. He suddenly felt bad, but there was no way this would work. Why couldn't life be any better? he asked himself.

"So, how are things with James going for you?" Hermione asked the other woman, whose was wearing a comfortable pair of jean and a sweater. Her red hair was tied back in a lazy bun, looking like your typical exhausted mother.

"Oh, I'm so miserable. James is a handful. I am glad to get a break. I haven't had one ever since Mom babysat him on our anniversary a couple months ago."

"Wow. I can't believe you have already started a family. You are only twenty years old. I couldn't imagine raising a little one at my age."

"Yeah, but you have a booming business. I don't really have a career."

"You should try to get one of your books published. They are really good."

"Hermione, I wrote those books years ago. It was just a stupid hobby because I was bored."

"So what? Polish them up and I will find someone to publish them for you."

"Really, Hermione. Even if I did get them published, what would that do for me? I mean, it's not like we don't have money. I've had enough publicity with being married to Harry."

"It would give you a better sense of accomplishment and don't think I can't see through your 'Life is fine' shenanigan, because I can tell that you are missing something."

Damn right, I'm missing something. Harry is barely home and I haven't had sex in weeks.

"I suppose you're right. But I never have enough time."

"Well, I just think it would be a good idea." The two women exited the small theastral drawn carriage and walked through the snow to the entrance hall of the stone castle, which was a bit altered from the time they attended. The war had taken a toll on the ancient building. Over the years though, parts of it had been restored. A majority of the classrooms and all of the dorms were now in better condition than ever. McGonagall decided months after the war had ended that Hogwarts would reopen the next school year, ready to instruct eager minds once again.

They were greeted by the Headmistress upon arrival and escorted to their room, which was located in the dungeon. It was just like being back in school, though different due to the better amenities. A bathroom was attached to their room along with a whole bookcase and desks for managing paperwork. Clearly the room belonged to a teacher before, but currently held inoccupation.

"Ginny, I was going to go into Hogsmeade after lunch. You can come if you'd like. I was just going to check out the space for my bookshop and whatnot."

"Oh, that's alright. I think I will take a nice hot bath. I haven't enjoyed one in centuries." The younger girl threw herself on one of the queen-sized beds and sighed.

"Well, you know the routine. I am going to talk to McGonagall to see about getting some new books on the list for next years students."

"Okay, Hermione." She sat up and noticed the semi-hurtful look on the brunette's face. "Hey, I will come with you tomorrow, I just need a little 'me' time tonight."

"I completely understand, Gin. Relax and enjoy yourself." Hermione smiled.

"Oh, I will. Don't worry about that. It is almost time to eat though, so I am just going to read for a few." Hermione left the room and headed to the Headmistress' office for their little chat. In the meanwhile Ginevra and her book cuddled up next to the fire with her reading glasses and a cup of hot chocolate. Next thing she knew it was almost time for lunch so she got ready to head upstairs.

She was surprised to see some of her former students, now looking like mature teenagers, sitting at their house tables conversing with old pals. The first years that she tutored as a fifth year were now sixth years. Some of them recognized her and waved to her. Her mood suddenly changed from stressed to content.

Ginny chose a seat at the Gryffindor table next to Lexi Dawson. The two chatted over the elf-cooked meal. Though they were five years apart in age they still had much to talk about.

"So, how is your marriage to Harry going? I read about it in the Daily Prophet a while ago."

"Life is going just great. We just had a son not too long ago." The other girl's eyes grew wide at this statement.

"Are you serious? I would never have guessed. You still have a wonderful figure."

"Yeah, I guess that is one of the Weasley genes. Though my hips have gotten a bit bigger, haven't they?" she replied, running her hand across her curves. Little did she know, someone at the professor's table was paying attention to her body, also.

Lunch went by somewhat hastily and the students cleared the Great Hall and returned to their house common rooms to get ready for afternoon classes. Ginny sat alone at the Gryffindor table downing pumpkin juice and waiting for Hermione to finish eating and talking to another one of her past students. Ginny could tell that the young boy was getting bored and restless, but Hermione didn't get the picture.

"Hey, Hermione. I think afternoon classes are about to begin."

"Oh, of course. Classes." She turned to the dark haired boy in front of them. "Well, Clark, nice to talk to you again. Good luck on that Charms essay."

The boy left in a somewhat rushed manner. Ginny stifled a chuckle and hid her smirk from Hermione. For the first time that day she noticed the platinum blonde sitting at the front of the Great Hall. At the time he was not looking at her, but once their eyes met it was like electricity.

In an attempt to avoid confrontation, she put her hand on Hermione's shoulder and encouraged them to head to their room. Turning to look one last time at Draco, she smirked at him and he smirked back at her, and inside joke from the past; a past whose memories came flooding back into Ginny's head as soon as she crawled into a hot bath later that evening.