Draco buttoned up his shirt and scowled at himself in the large mirror that adorned the wall in his opulent bathroom.

"You will never get a dance pulling that face, young man," the mirror said in a derisive voice. "Better to smile."

"When I want the opinion of an object," he retorted. "I'll ask for it."

"Well, really... this is all I am made for," the mirror replied, offended.

Draco did not say anything back, it was futile to argue with a disembodied voice. He picked up his jacket from the back of the bathroom door – a dark blue velvet tuxedo with matching trousers – and shrugged it on. Lastly, he used his wand to tie his black bowtie.

"Five minutes!" A shrill voice erupted from the silver watch on his wrist.

Draco was thoroughly disgruntled by this turn of events, more so because it was exactly as Zabini had said. His mother had ended guilt-tripping him into attending the gala, and he only agreed because it was important to her that he be seen doing good, especially by the Ministry. It would be good for his father, who still had to endure visits from parole officers in the Magical Law Enforcement department. Not that he cared, his father still hadn't bothered to apologise to him, but he did it for his mother and that was all.

The mess in his flat had gradually worsened until Draco had to give in a finally call Frisk back to clear it away. Frisk had returned, looking very dishevelled and careworn more than usual, however he had not gone hungry it seemed as he had seemed to gain more weight than he had left with. He had managed to get work in various kitchens in popular wizarding restaurants, and though he heard Ginny's name mentioned many a time, he had seen nothing of her. Then he had moved onto spying on her known associates as they left their places of work; her brothers in their joke shop, her sister-in-law as she left the Ministry. When Draco had called him back, Frisk had been staking out the Burrow, her childhood home and, though many people seemed to pass through, not one of them was Ginny. Draco thought it to be very strange.

Then, not a day later, the papers finally caught up with her in Diagon Alley, shopping with a few of her former teammates. All they managed to get were photographs as Ginny declined to make any comment other than "shove off!" Swiftly after that heckling from the press, they delighted in publishing the fact that she had gotten a legal document from the Wizengamot forbidding any members of the press to be within ten feet of her. Thus ended the press's intrusion and the speculation as there was nothing else they could report on except to recycle the same old suggestions, even then these were relegated to the middle pages now or disappeared altogether.

He had been tempted to send Frisk out after her again, but he decided against it. Draco was determined to get this gala over with first and then he would seek her out once and for all. She carried his flesh and blood within her, that was a bond of old and ancient magic that couldn't keep her hidden from him for long.

Draco's watch trilled loudly and buzzed against his wrist, signalling that it was time to leave. He straightened his jacket and ran a hand through his hair before disapparating. He landed in woodland, the frigid night air hit his face and his breath came out in dense fog in front of him. Much like any large wizarding event, this was held away from the prying eyes of muggles with additional charms to prevent them from wandering into the event area. He could hear others Apparating into the woodland around him and turned to see twinkling lights leading the way forward. Leaves and twigs crunched beneath his feet and he saw figures of more people around him, their voices filled with excitement as they spoke amongst each other, laughter ringing out and the buzz of talking surrounded him. Draco felt alone and wondered if it would have been so bad to have let Zabini find him a date, if only to simply walk in with.

A gigantic white marquee filled his eye line then as the trees thinned and the lighting became denser and brighter. There were a myriad of people waiting to walk through the golden arches that had been set up at the entrance, but a stony faced guard halted their progress as he let through a group of self-important VIPs, who waltzed past the riff-raff on the red carpet and disappeared through the arches. Draco shouldn't complain, he had been given a VIP ticket too and that was only because of the large donation he had made to the gala charity fund a few days ago.

"Ah, Malfoy! I knew you would make it!"

Draco turned to Zabini striding towards him with a very pretty looking woman trailing behind him, her hand grasping his. "Of course, you did. I expect my mother told you?"

Zabini laughed but ignored the comment. "Eloise," he said, drawing her closer. "You remember Draco Malfoy, don't you? Debonair Slytherin, worst Seeker in a century?"

Eloise gave a tinkling laugh at this. "Of course, I remember him," she laughed and she held out her hand to him as though she expected him to kiss it.

"I was not the worst Seeker in a century, you hippogriff," he shot back at Zabini as he spoke Eloise's hand instead.

Zabini laughed again. "He's just being polite, Eloise, dear," he murmured to his date, who seemed to laugh even more as Zabini spoke to her. Draco wondered if she would ever stop laughing. "Usually he calls me far worse names than that."

Draco rolled his eyes. He couldn't stand watching Zabini trying to be funny around women, it only resulted in him feeling uncomfortable and Zabini having an inflated sense of self-importance. "Shall we go in?" he said with a sigh.

Zabini smirked. "Let the evening begin." He gestured for Draco to go first, which he duly did with confidence. Even if he didn't want to be there, he had exude authority and nonchalance, nothing did that more than by looking confident. He strode up to the stone-faced guard, who looked just as immovable as his face, and presented him with his invite. The guard looked at it and back at Draco, sniffed in disgruntled fashion but let him pass through the rope all the same.

"Get a free drink with this, Misser Malfoy," the guard grumbled, shoving the invite back into his hand as he passed through. "Same goes for your friends 'ere."

"Noted," he replied and carried on walking as he tucked the card back into his jacket pocket.

"He was quite the pixie, wasn't he, Draco?" Zabini said behind him, humour in his voice. "Didn't seem to like you much." Eloise laughed. Again.

"Not many people do," he retorted.

Zabini didn't have time to reply as they entered the gala. The place itself was huge, various trays floated around with canapes and flutes of champagne amongst the guests, there was a sweeping staircase leading to a balcony area above from which to view the night sky and not doubt to woo a sweetheart, plush seating areas had been placed around the edges of the marquee all of which were draped with various materials giving the whole thing a decadent and luxurious look. Draco thought that to be rather extravagant considering the actual advertised purpose of these gala was to raise money for the gala charity – an organisation supposedly working towards assisting those people that had lost family in the war. Draco didn't believe any of it. He had never seen anything in the papers suggesting what they were doing with the money, but it was as he knew – an event designed to get the rich and famous together, with a handful of wannabes to stroke their egos, get drunk and fawn over themselves in the society papers for weeks.

"Quite the crowd," Zabini commented. He already had a champagne flute in his hand from which he sipped.

"It's the same crowd every year," Draco muttered.

"But this year, I've heard they've got the Patil sisters performing," Zabini said with a wink. "Very pretty, very talented and very single."

"And I'm very uninterested," he replied, picking up a champagne flute from one of the passing trays as it floated past.

"Merlin, are you going to lighten up at all this evening?" Zabini said contemptuously. "I'd rather you have stayed at home if so... and, besides," he added in a whisper, close to Draco's ear "I don't want you killing my vibe with Eloise."

Draco scanned the room and spotted the buffet table, large as it was, along the entire length of one side of the marquee. "Take Eloise elsewhere then," he muttered back, "I'm getting some food."

"At least attempt to have fun, your parents won't be pleased when they look in the society papers tomorrow and find their son looking as disgruntled as troll who can't find his dinner," Zabini said before escorting Eloise the other way and disappearing into the crowd.

Draco knew Zabini was right, he had to at least make it look like he gave a shit about this gala and attempt to mingle. If only to please his mother anyway. Before that, food came first and so he made his way over to the buffet table, only to be accosted by a handful of Ministry officials he had met last year when he had attended with Astoria, a few bolshie witches who wished to claim a dance from him and an old friend of his father's who held him the longest and couldn't take the hint that Draco would like nothing more than to be left in peace.

"It is such a shame your father can't be here," the old man said, his shaky voice repeating the same phrase for what Draco felt was the hundredth time. "I do believe it is harsh of the Ministry to exclude someone who has made such generous donations to the cause."

Draco did not know how else to convey to this man that he could not care less about having this conversation again. "I suppose his hatred of muggleborns can be overlooked, Mr. Fausted, it is so trivial," he muttered into his glass before downing it. Draco felt as though alcohol had become a dear friend in the past couple of weeks.

"Sorry, my dear boy? My hearing does not do well," Fausted said loudly as the music had begun to start.

"I suppose this music won't do our conversation much good either," Draco replied, raising his voice as the sound of the harp and cellos travelled throughout the marquee. Other instruments began to join in, playing a sweet sounding melody meant for dancing with your partner. Sure enough, he spotted Zabini dancing with Eloise from a distance in front of the elevated orchestra.

"No, it won't," Fausted replied, shaking his head, but he continued to prattle on about Lucius and how much he had donated over the years. "And I daresay you will make many more generous contributions in the future, Mr. Malfoy. But, what ever happened to that lovely Greengrass girl? Were you not engaged?"

Draco wondered when this would come up and briefly wondered when would he finally be able to get some bloody food. "No, not anymore," he replied shortly, not wishing to go into details.

"Shame, shame," Fausted said, his wrinkly jowls quivering as he shook his head. "Always a shame when an engagement ends on a bad note. Why, even Harry Potter's engagement ended earlier this year! One of my old colleagues in the Auror department told me all he knew about it – sad way to end things for that poor girl. Obviously got to her, pregnant out of wedlock... very strange."

Draco felt his mind wandering again – it seemed everyone around him was determined to speak about Ginny Weasley and it was infuriating. It also infuriated him that this dusty old man felt he could pass comment. "Not strange at all, Mr. Fausted," he replied, perhaps a little more curt than he intended. "Happens all the time nowadays."

"I can't see your mother or father ever allowing it, had you been female that is," Fausted replied. "Allowing her to even attend a function such as this... That is not good for a baby at all."

Draco baulked. "What?" he asked, his eyes focused on Fausted properly for the first time that evening.

"I said it is not at all good for a pregnant witch to be amongst rabble-trousers," he said loudly, leaning in closer.

"No, before that!" Draco said impatiently, his grip on his drink tightening.

"I said her parents shouldn't allow her to have attended the gala," he replied, giving Draco a strange look as if to question his behaviour. Particularly when the stem of Draco's glass snapped in two and the flute fell to the floor with a tinkling smash.

Draco grasped the old man by his shoulders, dispensing with all decorum and not caring about the wide-eyed look the man gave him. "Where? Where did you see her?"

Fausted's mouth dropped open, his jowls quivering again as he spoke. "Over there," he gestured, "by the bar. But that was at least an hour ago. Why in Merlin's name do you want to know?"

Draco let him go. "I'm a fan of the Harpies," he called back to him as he rushed off towards the bar, striding past the dancefloor as he did so, his eyes focused on that single spot.

"Hey! Draco! Where are you going?" Zabini pulled up beside him, practically dragging Eloise along with him, her face flushed from the dancing.

"To the bar," he answered as he continued his pace.

"You've got that look, Draco," Zabini chuckled. "You seen something you like?"

Draco only nodded back and carried on walking, thankfully Zabini did not pursue him. Apparently he was content enough knowing his friend might actually be having a good time, instead of mooching about the place and making him look bad. But there was no sign of her when he got to the bar and he growled at this, denied at the first attempt already.

He called over the bartender, who came scurrying quickly to him. "Was there a lady with red hair sitting here earlier?" he asked over the music.

"Yes, yes," the bartender nodded. "It was Miss Weasley, from the Holyhead Harpies. She gave me her autograph!" Clearly the man hadn't been told the rule that staff were not to ask for autographs under no circumstances, but Draco was not one to care at present.

"Where did she go?" he asked, a touch of impatience in his voice.

"With her friend to the balcony," he answered gesturing to the stair case in the middle of the marquee.

"Friend? What friend?" Draco asked with a frown.

"A woman," he replied. "She had brown hair – She looked important."

Draco rolled his eyes. Granger. Of course she would be here, she was high up at the Ministry these days but he forgot where. Draco pushed a few galleons toward the man and left to make his way towards the stairs. As he ascended them, he could already feel a pleasantly cool breeze, which felt calming compared to the heated stuffiness of the throbbing crowd below, and no press were allowed up on the balcony either so he could stop forcing a smile wherever he walked.

The balcony went in a vast ring around the whole marquee, with only gauzy curtains separating the cold autumn air from the heat inside, and he allowed his gaze to drift along the whole length of it before he decided to walk along it. Draco felt now as though he were a predator searching for his prey, the way he observed and stalked about the other guests. After completing near enough a whole lap of the inner ring of the balcony, he finally spotted a flash of red disappearing behind one of the translucent curtains a short way ahead.

The music below was in full swing and it seemed as though many of the guests had decided they would rather like to dance. This worked well for Draco, the less people around the better. He stood just on the other side of the curtains, his heart racing and his palms growing sweaty from the anticipation as he looked through the material.

It was her.

That shade of hair was unmistakable, the way her shoulders sloped downwards and the curve of her neck were unmistakable. But he stopped himself from marching out there as he heard her speak.

"I'm fine, Hermione," she said in an insistent tone, and Draco noticed that Granger stood just a little ways to the side of Ginny, a concerned look on her face. "I just need some fresh air, it is very hot in there."

"Well, don't stay out here too long, Ginny," Granger replied, her tone firm. "You could catch a cold."

"I'm sure I will be fine, Hermione," Ginny said in exasperation. "Look, if you don't go back inside, I will hex you, OK?"

Granger rolled her eyes. "Fine, Ginny," she sighed. "Meet me downstairs when you're ready."

"To meet the vultures?" Ginny retorted.

"You know they aren't allowed within ten feet of you," Granger said reassuringly, squeezing her friend's hand before leaving her. Draco quickly retracted to the shadows before Granger found him eavesdropping and only came back into the light once she had descended the steps.

Draco breathed in a deep gulp of air, before pushing the curtain aside and letting his feet guide him to her. Even now, his pulse still raced and his breath quickened at the merest glimpse of her smooth, ivory coloured skin, and it looked so radiant in her dark green coloured dress. He was so close now that he could see the smattering of freckles on her shoulders, freckles he still remembered the tracks of. And now he could smell her, that sweet floral scent that drove him mad.

"Ginny," he said quietly, his voice steadier than he thought it would have been.

"Draco... w-what are you doing h-here?" her face turned up to his and he looked down at her.

He was determined to memorize every inch of her face now, not that he had forgotten one freckles that dotted her pert nose, nor had he forgotten the colour of those large amber eyes like two pools of Firewhiskey. "I was invited," he answered.

She turned her face away from him abruptly, her cheeks reddening and he knew he shouldn't, he knew it was risky but he couldn't stop himself. He reached for her and turned her face back to his, the fear in her eyes so apparent at what he might do.

"I think you have something to tell me, little nymph," he murmured close to her as he leant down, his arm resting on the railing. He hadn't even bothered looking at the view yet.

Ginny swallowed hard as she looked back at him. "I-I didn't expect you to be here," she said quietly, her eyes dropping from his gaze.

"As you can see, I am here," he said. "Look at me. Look at me," he demanded, but he said it gently enough. Her gaze met his again. "It doesn't matter what you expected, it doesn't matter when you planned on telling me, if you ever did – You can tell me now, can't you, little nymph?"

"Stop calling me that," she whispered, pulling out of his grasp and turning away from him completely.

"And why should I do that?" he asked, a thrill racing through him as he was reminded of their first night together. "You are my little nymph, are you not? Now more than ever."

Ginny tensed up and he could tell by the way her back stiffened at his touch to her shoulder, a gentle trace of the line running up to her neck. "We are not on the island anymore, Draco," she replied, her voice firm as she spoke.

Draco closed the distance between them and risked everything by moving her hair to the side, letting it cascade over her other shoulder so as to kiss the base of her neck. "I don't care where we are," he muttered against her skin. "You are mine. Now, tell me," he insisted and he forced her to face him fully, and the sight of her could have near made his heart stop. Already he could see the slightest bump through the shape of her dress as it draped down to the floor. He had to hear her say it, here and now. "Tell me, Ginny. You cannot go on hiding this from me any longer. I won't allow it."

Ginny stared up at him, fear in her eyes again and he hated the fact that it was there. Draco wished for nothing more than to stop her feeling scared about this. "You already know," she said quietly, her eyes darting about her, watching for any would-be intruders. "Why do you need me to say it?"

"You will never understand," he answered. "I need to hear you say it and that is my explanantion. I am sure it will suffice considering you have known for some time now and seen fit to keep it from me."

"I had my reasons," she said, her voice wavering for the first time. "Reasons that you will never understand."

Draco grasped her by her waist and pulled her close to him and sighed as he felt her hands go up to his chest to stop him from pulling her any closer. "Just tell me, Ginny," he repeated. "Are you waiting for me to beg you? Why are you torturing me?"

Ginny sighed and shut her eyes before dropping her head down. "Fine," she whispered. "It's yours, OK? It's your baby, Draco."

Draco shut his own eyes and lifted his face to the heavens, relief flooding him as he smiled widely. He wanted to hold her, to lay a hand on her stomach, to connect in some way to the baby she carried, his baby. He wanted to kiss her as he had always kissed her, as though claiming her mouth for his own, as though no other mouth could ever satisfy him. And he knew none ever would. Not now and not ever. But a shudder went through her body and he realised she was crying. How could she cry when he felt so happy?

"This wasn't supposed to happen," she whispered. "Not like this."

Draco stared down at her. "I don't give a damn how this has happened," he said to her, tipping her face up so he could look at her. He had never seen her cry before and dear Merlin, she was beautiful, so vulnerable. "It's happened and that's it. We both wanted this, we both wanted a family... well, now we have that."

"And What about Astoria?" she asked, sniffing, a confused look on her face.

Draco blinked, confused as to why she would bring up Astoria. "What about her? What has she to do with anything?"

"Aren't you marrying her?" she asked with a frown.

"No, why would I be marrying her? I sent her on her merry way after you so graciously left me," he replied.

Ginny had the good grace to redden again. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't want you to pass her over for some holiday fling, I didn't want you to regret choosing me."

Draco shook his head. "You're not some holiday fling," he said in a stern tone. "And I have no regrets, not then and definitely not now." He took a hand from her waist and let it pass over the bump, the soft material the only barrier between his skin touching hers and he felt his heart constrict almost painfully with longing. "Come home with me," he murmured to her, his mouth close to her ear. "Come, little nymph..." He let his mouth connect with her throat, his lips touching her ever so gently there as he placed kissed after kiss on her skin. But her hands were still up, against his chest and, despite how ineffectual they were, it symbolised the barrier she kept up.

"I can't," she said, stepping back from him and that single act roared the primal thing inside back into fiery life.

Draco pulled her back to him and kissed her before she could protest, his hands on her arms, stopping her from struggling against him. Her lips were just as soft as he remembered them, waiting to be bitten, waiting to be opened, waiting for him to deepen the kiss. The slightest of moans escaped her throat and he knew she wanted him. "You are mine," he growled as he released her mouth, his eyes boring into hers as he looked down at her and she only stared back at him, doe-eyed and still unable to fight against him, her lips red from the roughness of his kiss. "Do you understand? This thing inside me won't let you go, won't let you run from me again, do you understand? It will hunt you down, it will find you and bring you back to me. It claimed you and now nothing else satisfies it, but you."

"Draco, I..." She trailed off, her cheeks flushing pink at the words he spoke. He knew it was absurd, but it made sense to him, to the primitive feeling inside him that she invoked. "I just can't do this right now... don't you understand? I'm scared of this," she gestured to the pair of them, "of us."

"What is there to be afraid of? Fuck everyone else!" he said loudly, causing her to look around in alarm, but still they were the only ones out there. "I haven't spoken to my father for two weeks over this! But he will get over it, I'm his only son and heir and he loves me, even after this!"

Ginny stared up at him, her eyes narrowing. "You told your father about us?" she asked, bemused.

"And my mother," he answered. "She wasn't happy, but she likes the idea of a grandchild more than she likes the idea of hating you." Draco held onto her still, worried that if he should let her go that she would run away from him again.

"My family is very different to yours," she replied once she had gotten over the initial shock that he had told someone And hadn't suffered dire consequences.

Draco nodded. "And you will have to tell them soon because if this baby comes out with white-blonde hair, they will start to think for themselves," he warned. "And wouldn't it be better to warn them before thathappens?"

"I doubt their first thought would ever go to you, Draco," she said in exasperation but the worry was there, he could see it in her eyes.

"It will when I turn up for the birth," he replied bluntly.

Her eyes widened then and the real worry kicked in, her brow crinkled and she bit her lip nervously. "This is a mess," she sighed.

"Let's clean it up then, like adults," he urged her. "Be my wife."

Ginny gasped as her gaze snapped to his once more, shock evident in her rounded eyes. "Don't be ridiculous!" she gasped out, tugging away from him and walking back to the railing which she grasped tightly. "Be your wife?" she scoffed, shaking her head. "Have you had too much champagne?"

"Not at all," he answered, standing beside her calmly. "I wish to legitimise my child."

Ginny looked at him, still shaking her head as she laughed. "Well, that's not good enough for me," she said, rolling her eyes.

Draco had had enough, he grasped her arm and pulled her round to face him again "Is the fact that I have eaten disgusting takeaways for the past week and half because I sent my house elf to find you good enough? Is the fact that I have lived these past three months in a pathetic daze without you good enough? Or is the fact that I am maddeningly in love with you good enough?"

Ginny blinked. "You lived off takeaways for a week?" she asked, a little disgust in her expression.

"A week and a half," he pointed out.

"You still don't know how to cook?" she asked, her eyebrow arching up.

Draco sighed. "That's not important," he said impatiently. "I think an answer to my proposal is a greater priority than finding out my cooking skills."

"We can't just go and get married," she said in exasperation. "We hardly know each other. We wouldn't work, you know we wouldn't. Our families will despise each other, our friends will despise each other."

"And damn all of them..." he muttered before bending to kiss her again. It was all too much for Draco, being so close to her and unable to control what his body craved from her. It was maddening, she was maddening, as she had been from the start. He felt the press of her lips returning his kiss, felt her body pushing against his and he couldn't accept that she didn't want this; words came out of her mouth only to be contradicted by her body. "If you don't want this, then stop kissing me back, little nymph," he said quietly.

Ginny swallowed hard, but kissed him again, a chaste and short kiss. "I... can't," she replied.

"Ginny!"

Ginny jumped sharply back from him as though burned. "Oh... fuck..." Draco turned to see Granger standing just in front of the gauzy curtains, a look of utter horror on her face as her eyes took in him standing there.

"Malfoy?" Granger said, complete and utter confusion written across each line of her face. "Ginny... what are you doing with Malfoy?"

Ginny was silent for a few moments and Draco could see her breathing had quickened from the shock of being caught. "Umm... what do you think I was doing?" she asked, and he could tell she knew this was a stupid response though Draco understood that her brain might not just be working at the correct pace in that moment.

Granger looked from one to the other, still aghast and still rooted to the spot. "I dread to think," she finally replied, but then a strained look passed over her face. "Please tell me what is going on here, Ginny, I am at a complete loss."

"Does it matter?" Ginny said with a heavy sigh.

Granger blinked rapidly as though unable to comprehend such a question. "Does it matter?" she frowned. "Of course it matters! I've just found you out here snogging Malfoy's face off!"

"Keep your voice down, will you, Hermione?" Ginny said as she stepped closer to her friend. "And I wasn't snogging his face off," she said in exasperation. "It's nothing – just a misunderstanding."

Draco stared at Ginny, taken aback by her attempts to deflect Granger's prying by resorting to lying. What was the point in lying now? Did she believe that he would stand on the sidelines and have no say in how their child was raised? Did she believe that she could escape him? That wasn't going to happen, he would have Ginny as his wife and it would do her good to finally realise that. "Misunderstanding? What is there to be misunderstood about what Granger just saw?"

Ginny threw him an incredulous look. "It was nothing," she insisted, eyeing him as if to tell him to shut up.

"What is the use in hiding this anymore?" he asked, stepping closer to her, imploring her. But he still saw the fear in her eyes, the fear he hated and he realised it was the only thing he hated about her – the fact that she was scared of what they could be, of what they could cause. "Granger isn't stupid, she is already working it out now – a know it all like her can't resist."

Granger seemed to be immersed in her own thoughts to really take any notice of his insult. "Ginny?" she asked, a line of worry of on her forehead. "Tell me what is going on here... are-are you with Malfoy?" she asked in almost a whisper, the truth seemed too terrible to say loudly enough. But Granger knew the answer, Draco could see it in the way she cringed ever so subtly, the curl of disgust dawning on her lips.

"I am not with Draco," Ginny finally said, worry on her face now as she looked at her friend. "We never were with each other."

"Draco? Since when did you call him Draco?" Hermione asked, disgust now well and truly evident in her face and tone.

"Since I started calling her Ginny," Draco supplied. "And what were we if we weren't with each other? You know this was more than some stupid fling, you admitted it yourself so be a bloody Gryffindor and face this."

Granger was still incredibly confused, despite being clever, this appeared to be beyond her comprehension. "But... what about the father of your baby? What happened to... -," she trailed off, eyes widening. "Dear Merlin!" she gasped, her hands going to her mouth momentarily. "It's... it's him, isn't it?" she whispered, gesturing over to him as she stared wildly at Ginny. "Malfoy is the father, isn't he? Dear Merlin..." Granger conjured a chair and sat down on it, her head in her hands as she muttered to herself. "What possessed you to sleep with... with him!"

Ginny rushed over to Granger and knelt beside her, forcing her hands away from her face so she could look at her. "Hermione, I can't explain to you what happened on that island," she said gently. "Even if I could comprehend it, I couldn't explain it – it was so personal and raw... I didn't go out of my way to fall pregnant, I didn't go out of my way to sleep with the first familiar face... It just... happened."

"But, why Malfoy?" Granger said, her voice almost despairing. "Of all people, why him?"

Ginny had no reply to that, what could she possibly say? He suspected his parents had thought the same thing – why Ginny Weasley?

"There is no why, Granger," Draco finally said, forcing them both to look at him. "There is no rhyme or reason as to why we ended up in this mess, obviously we were both careless, but how we got to this point is based on pure attraction. Our names meant nothing."

Granger stared open-mouthed at him, despair still in her expression. "I just don't get it..." She muttered, turning back to Ginny and shaking her head.

Draco sighed heavily, growing impatient. "You don't have to get it," he said in a harsher tone of voice, " all you have to do is accept it."

Those words, and the way he had spoken them, seemed to for Granger back into life. "I don't have to accept anything, Malfoy!" she snapped. "This is completely irresponsible! Did either of you have any thought to what might happen before you... Merlin... before you fell into bed with one another? Did you actually consider your family at all?"

"This has nothing to do with our families," Draco said curtly.

Granger stood up and advanced on him. "This has everything to do with our families!" she said loudly. "I'm sure your father will be very proud to have a blood traitor in the family!"

"I don't give a damn what my father thinks," Draco growled back, glaring down at Granger as she stopped in front of him.

"And I'm sure our family will be so welcoming of a former Death Eater," she said with a sneer. "I can see Christmases going very well, and birthdays."

"I'm leaving," Ginny said abruptly, standing beside the chair Granger had just vacated. "This is exactly what I didn't want and you've both just proven me right – This can't ever work. I'm going home."

Draco stared in horror at her. "No, Ginny, wait!" he started towards her. "I know you want this, just wait!"

She disapparated.