Draco stared down at the numbers on the yellowing parchment, his eyes slipping out of focus each time he tried to concentrate. He was supposed to be analysing the profits from the month's sales and rents, but this was proving difficult. After three months of throwing himself into the family business, something his father was practically ecstatic about, the long hours and mentally tiresome work was beginning to catch up with him. The work was also inescapably dull. Meeting potential investors, reading through tenant complaints, navigating wizarding housing law. It was impossibly dull.

His publisher continued to hound him for his third instalment, but so far he had barely written even a sentence. Draco had attempted to submit a half-finished draft of something he had written a long time ago, trying to pass it off as a serious effort, but his publisher had all but laughed in his face and told him not to pull that kind of crap again otherwise he could be in breach of his contract. Going to the island had been his chance to end the writer's block, but it had only managed to worsen it.

Draco blinked down at the numbers again and sighed. He took up the parchment and shoved it into the desk drawer, unable to think about the business any longer. Instead he left his seat and stood in front of the vast window that overlooked a dreary and rainy London; the office was set into a skyscraper, one of the tallest in the world and, although it was a feat of Muggle engineering, it was all the rage to own even a small square foot of the place across the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. The prestigious address looked good printed on the business cards and his father was not one to quibble about muggle realty when it made him look wealthy. Draco could see the tiny yellow lights from the cars weaving through traffic below in the concrete streets, all the City workers trudging through the rain in their trench coats and umbrellas, most heading for the nearest Tube or train station, tiny dots in the scene far below him.

Most of these people would be returning home to their waiting families, their husbands and their wives, their children. Draco would be going home to his house elf, his flat would be quiet as it always was and he would eat dinner whilst listening to the wireless. Zabini had invited him out to some new bar opening in Soho, an exclusive wizarding bar for only the richest in society. It did not sound like the place for him; once upon a time, he would have gone, he would have taken a pretty young thing home and sent her away in the morning. Now, he couldn't be bothered at all.

Draco had kept true to his own promise; he hadn't contacted Ginny, despite the overwhelming urge to. Even as he had returned from the island, he had to force himself to remember that this could only work if she came to him. Draco doubted that she ever would in her stubbornness. But he missed her more than he could stand for, more than he liked to admit to himself. He was supposed to be searching for a bride, for the future mistress of Malfoy Manor, not pining after a woman he had a holiday fling with. Yet how could he search when all he saw was her? How could he imagine another woman in that role when all he could think about was her? Her careless laughter, the easy smile that showed the dimples in her freckled cheeks, even the anger that made him want her more when it brightened her eyes with fire. He missed her sensuality, the effortless way with which she moulded to his own body, the burning desire she invoked him. This could not be replicated elsewhere, or by anyone else.

The only piece of news he had regarding her had been hungrily coveted and read hundreds of times over as it was covered in nearly every wizarding newspaper and magazine. That she had retired from international and domestic quidditch. That had been a month ago and Draco had been thoroughly shocked and bemused by the news. Only two months prior she had been saying how important it was for her to get back into training, if she was to ever get the captaincy then she would need to get her game back. Now, she had decided to retire. It was very strange and he wondered that there was more to it, whether she had been forced out by the league for whatever reason. Whatever it was, he read each line, looked at all the photos. Usually she was plastering on a large smile as she breezed past photographers into the current trendiest restaurant or into an exclusive bar, but he could tell it was fake. In his mind, she hadn't really wanted to retire, something or someone had forced her hand.

At this point, Draco knew it was time to go home. Whenever he started thinking about Ginny, there was no going back to work, especially when that work involved poring over dull numbers and analysing market data. Even the mere thought of it made his body slump in anticipation of imagined boredom. He collected his cloak and extinguished the lamps before leaving his office.

Draco heard a scuffle as soon as he stepped out of his office and saw his assistant, Rebecca, tucking something away hastily into her desk and Marcella trying and failing to look as though she were doing something important and work-related. This failed as she was nowhere near her desk, which happened to be in the lettings department.

"Oh, uh, Mr. Malfoy!" Rebecca said standing up. "Marcella just had some paperwork for me."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Rebecca, frankly, I couldn't care less what gossip rag Marcella has just been showing you," he said in a bored voice. "In fact, you can carry on looking at it elsewhere. I'm going home, the rest of you can too." He waved them away and continued on down the hall.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy!" they both called after him in unison. "This is big news," he heard one of them say, Marcella he thought. "I wonder who it is with... certainly not her ex. No way!"

Draco rolled his eyes, probably the latest celebrity scandal causing a furore with the press. He made it to the apparition point and promptly disapparated directly into his flat. Immediately, the smell of cooking filled his nostrils – Frisk was hard at work in the kitchen, as he always was whenever Draco got home. He had a knack for sensing when he would be returning, even though it was always irregular. Although he would be eating alone, Draco preferred his flat to the manor – he had lived there for near on five years and it was to his own modern tastes compared to the stuffy, old-fashioned manor he had grown up in.

"Ah, Draco, you are home earlier than I anticipated."

Draco sighed as he turned around to see his father framing the doorway from the hall. He had a irritating habit of showing up unannounced ever since Draco had returned from holiday. "Don't you ever think it might be a good idea to warn me of your coming?"

"Unnecessary," Lucius replied airily as he walked into the living room and sat himself down in Draco's favourite armchair. "You don't go anywhere after work aside from here, so no need for me to check when you'll be home."

Draco was not impressed. "I could have friends over, I could have brought a witch home," he suggested. "This would have been rather awkward if I had done so."

Lucius laughed. "You haven't been out with that wastrel, Zabini, since you returned from that island," he said, waving a hand as though to bat away Draco's objections. "And you certainly haven't brought a woman home since then, either."

Draco sat down on the sofa, almost as though he were a sulky teenager. He didn't much appreciate his father barging in on his privacy, he might have to revoke his parents rights to Apparating into the flat from now on. "How would you know what I do?"

Lucius raised an eyebrow at his son, a perfectly shaped arch. "Your mother is adept at knowing most of what you do. You know how friendly she is with Zabini and Zabini has a big mouth," he said distastefully.

Draco did know Zabini had a big mouth, it was his fault that Astoria had come to the island and ruined it all with Ginny. "What do you want this time, anyway?" he asked, giving up trying to make his point about invading his private space.

"Now, now, Draco, there's no need to be so dismissive," Lucius said with a tsk. "But, your mother is worried about you."

Draco sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "She's always worried about me," he said irritably.

"You are our only child," his father pointed out. "You are also our only proper link to wizarding society since... well." Lucius gestured carelessly with his hand.

"Since the war you wanted," Draco finished. He had never really forgiven his father for how he had romanticised the Dark Lord and led him down a dangerous and idiotic path. "And you get about well enough without having to constantly nose into my personal affairs."

"You know very well your mother and I wish for you to settle down," Lucius said, now in a firmer tone, a stern look on his face reminiscent of the one he would use whenever he had to tell Draco off as a small boy.

"And you know it was my intention to settle down," Draco retorted, pushing himself up from the sofa in near fury. His father knew very well that he had been intending to marry for some time now, therefore his irritation with Draco was unfounded and undeserved. He went over to the drinks cabinet and grabbed a bottle of Firewhiskey from within, a bad choice as this only reminded him of those deep amber eyes set into the heart-shaped face of Ginny Weasley. Draco pushed that image from his mind and poured himself a drink.

"Yes, I would like one too, Draco," Lucius called over to him. Draco rolled his eyes and poured another one before slouching back onto the sofa and handing his father his drink. "There is no need to be so sulky, Draco, you are twenty-seven, not seventeen." Draco chose to ignore this comment and decided to chuck back the drink and relished the feel of the burn at the back of his throat as the liquid warmed his body from within, very much like how he reacted from Ginny's gentle touch. "Besides, you have been off since you returned from that island. We know about Astoria chasing after you there, silly girl. Malfoy's have more pride than to flock back into the arms of someone who has rejected them. And you are better off without her," Lucius added before sipping at his own drink. "Your mother and I were happy to find out you had sent her away. But you are not right, not right at all since coming back. Your mother believes Astoria's put you under some sort of curse. I believe you met a woman."

Draco stared at his father, who smirked as he finished off his Firewhiskey. Lucius placed his empty glass on the coffee table in front of him. "I see I am right," he said with a triumphant glint in his eyes. "Who was she to cause such melancholy in you for three months?"

"No one," Draco muttered, looking away from his father and staring at the empty glass instead.

"Then end this madness and find yourself a bride," Lucius said, stern once more. "Most people move on from base holiday flings, you've been moping for months! The business is doing well under your attentions, but I do not expect my only child to be shackled to work. You must go out, even if it is with that silly boy, Zabini. Or if this woman means so much to you, go and seek her out! Just do something, Draco, your mother and I tire of your moodiness."

"You don't understand at all, father," he replied in a firm tone. "I'll go about my own life the way I choose, Merlin knows your choices led our family into nothing but trouble."

Draco knew that was a low blow, but he was sick of his parents trying to interfere, trying to force a romance with women he had no interest in. "You know well enough how to insult me, Draco," his father said, now stoic as he fought the anger Draco knew he was feeling back. "But, you know we only do this because we wish for nothing but the best for you."

"And what is the best?" he asked loudly, getting up again in frustration. "A beautiful Pureblood with excellent breeding, no familial taints? Even Astoria wasn't good enough for you and you want me to seek out this woman I had a fling with?"

Lucius frowned. "I know you wouldn't disappoint us, Draco," he said, but Draco sensed a hesitancy there.

Draco scoffed. "Disappoint?" he laughed now. "You'd disown me if you knew who it was. And she was damn well worth it!"

Lucius gaped at his son, most likely because he had never seen him act this way before. Draco didn't care, he was utterly tired of trying to make his parents happy, trying to rewrite their wrongdoings and make them see their way of thinking was outdated and dangerous. "Don't tell me it was a muggle," Lucius whispered, his eyes wide.

Draco sighed loudly. "This is what I mean!" he shouted over his father. "Did that war not teach you anything? Did it not show you how stupid your bigotry really is? Merlin! You can still barely even praise a muggleborn!"

Lucius closed his eyes and held his head, before rising from the armchair. "Some things will never change, Draco," he said, standing on a level with his son and it frightened Draco how much he actually looked like him. "Do you believe I still want another war? No. Do I wish to avoid muggles and mudbloods still? Yes, where possible. Now, tell me, were you sleeping with a muggle, or a mudblood for that matter?"

"You're an old fool," Draco sneered before turning his back on his father to sit back down. He wasn't worth standing up for right now. "Since you care so much, no, it wasn't a muggle or a muggleborn," he said in a biting tone, "it was Ginny Weasley." Lucius practically fell back into the armchair, a look of utter horror on his face. Draco had no idea what had possessed him to reveal that which he had kept to himself for so long. Perhaps he was mad like his father had said, but it felt good to tell. "At least she's a Pureblood."

"You... you stupid boy," his father rasped as he fumbled inside his robes. Draco gripped the handle of his wand in his pocket as he thought Lucius meant to curse him, but he only pulled out a rolled up newspaper. "You utterly foolish boy. Look at that!" he said loudly, tossing the paper at him with wild eyes. "Look at that!"

Draco was not expecting this reaction at all, if anything he thought his father would have left him in peace for at least a week or two. He rolled out the newspaper all the same and was immediately greeted with a large black-and-white photo of Ginny on the front cover of The Evening Prophet, a large smile on her face as she strode past photographers into a trendy bar with her Quidditch teammates. It was an older photo from last Christmas as she was wrapped up in glamorous winter dress robes and had tinsel wrapped around her neck and in her hair. It wasn't until he dragged his eyes away from the photo that he saw the emblazoned headline screaming in big letters: QUIDDITCH STAR QUITS FOR BABY!

The image of his assistant and her friend earlier hiding away something and their subsequent gossip sharpened in his mind. This must have been what they were gossiping about... Draco looked up at his father, who appeared to have calmed down and was surveying his son with a cool stare. "Go on, read it," he urged. "Foolish boy."

Draco leant over the paper as he flattened it against the surface of the coffee table, trying to ignore Ginny making faces at him and egging her friends on as well. "International Quidditch star, Ginny Weasley, as we all know, retired a month ago from the game, leaving fans of the Harpies devastated despite a poor show last season. Retirement for a healthy twenty-six year old woman from the game of Quidditch left many fans in shock, not only because she is a firm favourite, but because the former Harpies team captain, well renowned and beloved fan favourite, Gwenog Jones, only retired from the game last year at the age of forty six.

Now, our reliable sources can exclusively reveal (No matter what Skeeter prints) that Ms. Weasley is in fact with child. This will come as a shock to fans who have followed Ms. Weasley's break-up with Harry Potter and empathised with her after being so tragically heartbroken, as our sources can also reveal that Mr. Potter is not the father. The former couple have not seen each other since their break-up, despite Ms. Weasley's brother being a firm friend of Mr. Potter's.

This leaves many of us here at Prophet HQ wondering who could be the Daddy. Ms. Weasley has not been linked with anyone else since breaking up with Mr. Potter, however there is no quibbling over when this could have happened. It is well known that the Harpies training regime is one of the most rigorous in the league and begins earlier than most other teams, and we know Ms. Weasley did attend these training sessions in early August. Therefore, we can only conclude that the deed was done some time after her disastrous season ended and before she began training for the Harpies again, as she disappeared for some time from the public eye.

Needless to say, it is going to be an exciting for her fans trying to figure out who could have possibly fathered her child. For more on this story, please turn to page five."

Draco could not turn to page five, he felt like his stomach had just dropped right out of him and had left him with only emptiness, confusion and hunger.

"I brought that along to have a good laugh over," his father said, cutting through Draco's messy thoughts. He had almost forgotten his father were there. "Seems like the joke is on the Malfoy name, instead. You foolish, foolish boy! Is it yours, then?" he asked, his tone meandering towards anger and threatening to spill into fury as he glared at his son. "Or can we assume that this is the product of a different fling? Not so difficult to imagine since she so easily fell into your bed!"

Draco was in disbelief and confused, but he knew he wasn't going to allow his father to speak about Ginny like that. He had tolerated their snide comments on Astoria for long enough, but he wasn't going to accept this. "She didn't fall into bed with me," he said in a firm voice, sneering at his father. "Don't ever talk about her like that or I will curse you so bad, mother won't even be able to recognise you."

Lucius only smiled. "I see you have been more foolish than I first thought," he muttered. "To defend her so vehemently... You never stood up for Astoria in this way, though you never managed to get her with child either..." Lucius shook his head. "What possessed you to fraternise with a blood traitor?" he hissed. "Even Astoria seems tolerable compared to this pretender, a Weasley too! You will sort this problem out, Draco, and soon."

"Problem?" Draco snapped, wishing for his father to leave now so he could think. "I don't see that there is a problem aside from the fact that this is how I have found out."

"You don't see a problem?" Lucius asked, a sneer curling his lips now. "You don't see a problem with the Weasley name tainting ours? You don't see a problem with her bearing an illegitimate heir? You don't see that a problem with how her own family will react when they find out their only daughter carries the child of a former Death Eater? You are naive and childish to think these are not problems. You are not ready to even be a father, so when I say you need to sort out this problem, you know very well what I imply."

"Get out," Draco growled. "Get out!" he yelled, rising from his seat and withdrawing his wand. Draco would never truly harm his father, but he felt close to it and if he didn't leave right now, he feared he would do something equally unforgivable.

Lucius rose slowly from the chair, standing level with Draco as they glared at each other momentarily, both with their hands on their wands. There had been a time when Draco would have retreated from his father, would have feared the lecture and his father's stinging jinx on his behind, but those days were gone and he stood just as tall as his father now and knew worse spells to counter him with. "You are lucky that you are my only child, Draco, otherwise I would disown you. You are lucky your mother would kill me if I were to do so. So, I will leave you to think clearly about this, but do not expect me to keep this from your mother. I will not spare you her disappointment."

Draco gave him a curt nod and watched him disapparate. He slumped into his armchair after pulling the paper across the table so he could read it again, but all he could see was Ginny on the front cover laughing with her friends and it was then that he felt the ache inside him grow considerably. He wanted her smile back to himself, he wanted her curled up in his bed now, hiding away from the vile press and their hounding. He wanted to trace her freckles with his fingers along her naked back.

He sat like that for some hours, even as he ate his dinner, just staring at the photo on the newspaper. How long had she known she were pregnant? How long was she planning on keeping him in the dark about it? That singular thought angered him beyond fury – How could she keep this from him? And for what? Because she worried what their friends and families might think? Draco had had enough, he had given her space to come to him, he had been willing to wait, but circumstances had changed and he was filled with determination to seek her out, to claim her and his child once and for all.

"Frisk!" he called as he stood from the armchair, his legs protesting as he had been seated for so long.

"Master calls," the house elf said as he came through the kitchen door. "What is the master wanting from Frisk, please?"

"I need you to find this woman," he said, picking up the newspaper and shoving it under the house elf's nose so he would take it. "Her name is Ginny Weasley."

"Yes, the Weasley is famous Quidditch star," Frisk said as he studied the photograph. "Miss Weasley was girlfriend of the Boy Who Lived -."

"Yes, yes," Draco said in irritation. "We all know about Potter. I'm not interested in him, I am interested in her. I need you to locate her, find out her daily routine, then report back to me when you have sufficient information."

Frisk seemed perturbed by this order. "Who will be feeding Master? Frisk must look after Master. Master cannot cook, Master cannot clean or do his laundry -."

"Frisk, I will be perfectly fine without you for a few days," Draco said in exasperation. "I am an adult." Despite saying this, Draco was well aware that he could be living off of greasy takeaways for a few days, either that or he would have to go crawling back to the Manor. That would never happen. Not with the way his father had just spoken to him.

Frisk bowed after tucking the newspaper away inside his pillowcase vest. "Frisk will do as Master asks," he said solemnly before disapparating with a sharp CRACK!

Draco sighed and rubbed his temple, tired by his work at the office and tired by the ache in his chest. He went over to the drinks cabinet again and poured himself another Firewhiskey, swilling the contents around before downing it whole. He poured another and drank another. Briefly, he wondered how he could have been so careless, a vague reel of memories streaming into his mind and showing him how careful he had always been with previous sexual partners. He had always used the contraceptive charm and he had always ensured Astoria was stocked well with birth control potion – it would never do to have a child borne before wedlock, it would be illegitimate and have no claims to the Malfoy estate or inheritance. He had never taken any chances before, never risked such an occurrence before, but he knew Ginny had been nothing like his previous partners. She had been like an immersive and all-consuming flame, drawing him in, making him touch even when he knew it was forbidden. He had been so consumed by lust for her, he had never had time to think about asking her if she was taking anything or to even cast the charm on himself.

It didn't matter at any rate. He had wanted to start a family, it was just not the way in which he had envisioned it starting, apart from the mother who had taken herself off away from him in a fit of foolish supposed selflessness. Still, he had no regrets on that front. Ginny would soon see that there was no other path to take but with him, she would soon understand that she belonged with him.