A/N: This is pretty much a transition chapter. The whole separate rooms thing is inspired by To Wed the Enemy which is another D/G fic I read awhile back. Again, kudos for Steph who got me out of a writer's block. And again, J.K., please don't sue or you will be condeming one of your biggest Potter Fans.

Chapter Five: "Hello, My Name Is..."

"Rose...don't cry baby girl," Ginny hushed her baby girl. She rocked the small baby in her arms. "It's ok...shhhhhhh." She set the baby down in the crib and tucked her in. Ginny held up Rose's red, burned hand. Examining it like a surgeon, she held her wand tip to it and muttered a spell. Immeadeatly, her burn healed and Rose's hand grew to its normal pale and shiny self.

The baby was asleep. Ginny's back ached. That four poster bed looked pretty inviting right now. But her body wouldn't budge. She had been shut up in her room for a little less than ten days and had been doing exactly what she had been sent there to do. To be kept safe. Her legs were itching to get out into wide open spaces and run.

Her hands were drawn to the door on the other side of the room. The mahogany door across the room where no sounds came from. The door nobody dared knock on and ask to be let in to the other side. The door that Rose had been burned by...

She raised her hand to the door, her hand balled into a tight fist with sweaty palms. She knocked...

He heard a sharp knock at the door to his study three times. Three times echoed the same lifeless tone.

"Hello?" she asked. He could just picture her brows knit in frustration. He rolled his eyes and went back to the letter he was writing, but still keeping his ears open to her voice.

"I know your there, and I know you hate me after I stood you up, if you want to call it that. It's just that...I would talk to you if your bloody doorknob wouldn't burn my daughter so badly!" He heard a sigh a pause and then she continued, "I know Rose wouldn't be happy with you if she knew the truth...if she was older and could understand. I know...Harry's passing was not all that easy for me to accept. It wasn't easy for me to accept moving to away from the house he and I shared for three years. I don't think I wanted to see you ever again after I became pregnant with Rose. And if it helps, I want to talk to you. I promise I'll come down to dinner so you don't have to send your arsenal of house-elves to serve me my meals.

"If your not there, Draco...I hope you have an answering machine, 'cause that was one hell of a monolouge and I don't want to repeat it." She chuckled. He opened the door. She stood there with tired brown eyes looking at the floor. A blush crept up her freckled face. "So you did hear?" she muttered. Her foot twisted awkwardly from side to side into the plush carpet. Draco met her gaze. He could see the very black of her pupils and tiny flecks of green in one eye.

"Come in."

"Thank you." He watched her walk apprehensivly across the room, gazing at the intimidating relief statues of Greek gods set into the pillars.

"Sit down please." He pulled up a chair and she thanked him with a small nod. "So, what was that inspiring monologue for, Ms. Weasley?" She turned about seven shades of red he noted and then she answered for him.

"I want to apologize...for everything! I was a total git to not accept your," she paused and thought, "warm, hospitality."

"Well, I wouldn't really call it warm the way I kind of, well...would forced be a good word?" Ginny smiled at his joke. She finally met his eyes, full of warm-hearted laughter. "Yes. Well, I forced you to accept everything. This ugly house probably frightened you to death with its ugliness." She chuckled again and they both shared in the laughter. He coughed to fill the silence that followed.

"If it helps, I want to start again. I want to talk to you about...Rose." She looked like she was about to cry. Her eyes welled up with tears. Draco had no idea why she was crying. But then again, her daughter wasn't the lightest of topics.

"Hello, my name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." He waggled his eyebrows and she smiled despite her tears. "And you are?"

"Ginevra Po-Weasley." She shook his hand with reluctance. Her palm was as wet as the Amazonian rainforest.

"So what about your daughter?" Ginny's smile faded and her gaze fell to the floor where it stayed for awhile.

"I named her like we discussed. Rose Riley. You always did like that name I remember. If it was a boy you wanted it to be a good strong name to carry on, but I wanted something sweet if it was a girl. Remember that argument?" she croaked. The water works had sprung a leak again.

"Ginny...that month I want to forget pretty much all together," Draco moaned.

"But you were the one who agreed to talk!" she accused, her temper flaring. "Weren't you the one who invited me here? Draco!" She collapsed in the chair, overcome with violent tears. "I can't believe you! Ron was right! I should never have come here!"

He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to run. He wanted both things at once. He hated how she wanted to talk to him about things. Things they had discussed almost two years ago. Boy, even Millicent Bulstrode would've been better than this.

"Ginny!" he stammered, searching for the right words, "I know it wasn't easy for me sitting down with Remus to talk about this. To talk about how Rose could be fatal and ruin everything. I know! It wasn't easy for me either accepting my actions. Somehow I felt sorry for Harry. I knew it wasn't right the way I let you come into my life and then just lie about Rose. Don't think I haven't thought about this."

"You never told anyone about...what happened?" She looked up at him with a questioning expression.

"No, not really. I told Blaise Zabini. He was already putting together the puzzle pieces. He died shortly after. Took the secret to his grave the little blighter. Never could forget what he said after I told 'im. 'Silly little ferret loves the weasel!' He nearly fell over in his chair and broke his neck!" Draco chuckled.

"Look...Draco, I know you don't want to have this talk. I'm sorry I tried," she apologized, her hands in front of her chest, "But if it helps, I'll be here." She was at the door, ready to leave, to go comfort Rose if she woke up.

"I'll leave the door open if Rose ever comes wandering again," he called. It made her stop and smile.

"I'm sure she'll be happy to see you. Bye."

"Bye," he echoed, but she was already gone.