Title: Call Me Ginevra
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I don't own any characters except those you can't research on the lexicon and aren't mentioned in the books. The plot is my own. Any resemblances to other plots are pure coincidence. Think about it this way, great minds think alike.
Full Summary: The war has the Weasley's worried about poor little Ginny. After checking her resources McGonagall claims she has the best caretaker for Ginny. Too bad it turns out to be Narcissa Malfoy. While at Malfoy Manor Ginny faces growing up, a strict regiment and Draco on a day-to-day basis. Can Ginny and Draco brave the unknowns of friendship? Will the buds of relationship form? What will Harry do when he finds out that only Ginny holds the key to defeating Voldemort?
Pairings: Draco/Ginny (I guess this sort of answers the "buds of relationship" question in the summary, huh?)
Rating: Eventually M, but pace yourself. (I will give fare warning of the chapters which that rating applies.)
Chapter Note: I had no idea it would be so hard to write the first ten paragraphs of this chapter, but so it was. I hope this clarifies things for you.
P.s. don't hate me.
Author's Note: I believe last chapter left a few of you stunned and confused. Allow me to explain: Draco reacted the way he did for a number of reasons (some of which you'll find out in this chapter YAY!). First, he just got back from DE training. He's gonna be a little violent. He'd been locked in a prison cell, basically, for six months being subjected to torture (both directly and in the form of torturing others possibly or whatever sick thing they did which I won't explain here), all for a cause he didn't believe in.
Second, as my comrade Mongoose pointed out in her review, he reacted emotionally. He had trusted Ginny enough to expect her to fill him in on something that big. Her not doing so was a massive betrayal in his eyes.
Thirdly, he just found out that the entire time he thought his mum has been fine, she wasn't. The past how many years of his life were a hoax. And he wonders "What about all those moments I could have spent with her but didn't, because I didn't know she was ill?"
Also, some of you may have been confused by what Narcissa meant in the last paragraph. Essentially, she is telling Ginny to marry for love because she, Narcissa, could not. She realizes now she would have preferred death etc. over being married to Lucius and what it has meant for her life (or lack thereof). Anyways, she's telling Ginny to not marry Laurent unless she loves him, because she has the opportunity to marry for love and not suffer consequences. I'll see about rewriting that for clarity. But later! Must complete the story first!
Chapter Twenty-Four: Tempest
Ginny had made it to her room, barely shutting the door behind her before she collapsed in a pile on the floor. Gasping for air, she clutched her stomach, trying to make more room for her diaphragm. She could finally feel the tears roll down her cheeks as she shook on the floor. How had she come to this place? Why did she say yes to Laurent? Because of her run-in with Draco? Sobbing, she brought her other hand up to her forehead.
Her door was rattling with the force with which she was shaking. Leaning forward, she pressed the heels of her palms into the unforgiving wooden floor, and crawled on her hands and knees to her bed. Sitting up on her knees at first, she gasped lightly for air, and then stood, wobbling. Finally she could grasp the comforter and drag herself onto her bed where she lay like that until she fell asleep.
She opened her eyes again a few hours later when the sun was kissing the horizon. Her hair had settled over her eyes so she could only see the room through a red curtain. Sighing, she rolled over and wove her fingers in the wrinkles of the comforter. The cold clothe brought her some sort of comfort as her body spun with guilt and anxiety. She had to break things off with Laurent, she knew this. But she was scared to. Could you take a step forward in a relationship with someone and then take it back? Would that be rude? Would Laurent still want to be with her?
She felt a stinging in her stomach and audibly hissed. Did she want him to want her back?
She had to be honest with herself, didn't she? Frowning, she clenched her fists. She'd liked Laurent fine. He was good to talk to, a good listener, he comforted her when she needed it, made her laugh, and he was gorgeous. Who wouldn't want to marry him? But that passion she had felt when she was with Draco far trumped that.
She even felt more passion about Blaise when she had been with him, despite the fact that he was a total arsehole. Laurent, it seemed, was much like Dean had been from school. A good friend who could pass the time. Her fists unclenched, and she sighed, closing her eyes.
Narcissa was right. That was no reason to marry someone. But Ginny didn't want to be the one to end things, didn't want to be the bad guy. It was so much easier to be the victim. Maybe if she pulled out of the engagement he would end things with her and she could just be single for a while.
Merlin, she was a terrible person! Feeling nauseous, she curled up into a ball, praying that some part of the magic remaining in these lands would see fit to swallow her up, forever removing her from this complicated realm of existence. How Gryffindoric, plotting on putting herself in a position that would undoubtedly make her the victim of something she was the cause of, the sarcasm in her thoughts almost bitter enough for her to taste. Of course, she thought wryly, it makes sense for me to think like that, I've been in this house of Slytherins for almost a year now.
Groaning, she turned over in her bed, contemplating the words she knew she would have to say. How would she approach things? How could she possibly start the conversation? She couldn't just sit him down as if they were having tea and drop it in his lap.
I'm sorry, Laurent, but when I said yes I really meant 'yes, as long as I never have to acknowledge my true lack of feelings for you,' I hope that's okay?
She mentally shook her head. That wouldn't present a clear break. No, she'd have to be a bit blunter.
Laurent, we need to talk. I don't love you, and only agreed to marry you because Draco tried to kill me. I know it's terrible, but please be understanding even though I'm dumping you?
She couldn't expect him to be understanding. That would be asking too much. What if, though, she tried to spin it in his favor?
Laurent, let's assume that we don't get married. You'd be able to move on and fall in love again. So let's try that, shall we?
That seemed equally as pitiful as the last two. Some flare for the dramatic, maybe?
Laurent, I'm a monster. Really. I eat people, and other disgusting things. Run while you still can.
She brought a pillow swiftly against her face. "I have to do this but I can't."
"Can't do what?"
Ah yes, just the person she wanted to see, Laurent.
--
Draco stomped through the corridors of the Manor, shooting death glares at all of the House Elves, and even some of the portraits. Pansy had gone into a snit about a shade of blue or some such rot, and had expected Draco to sit there all day and sympathize for her. What did that cow need, outside of his last name? She couldn't honestly believe he was marrying her for her personality, could she?
He'd only been too happy when a house elf arrived, informing him that his mother wanted to speak with him. Pansy had muttered something under her breath to the tune of Narcissa becoming and invasive mother-in-law, but Draco had silenced her with a glare. So what if she was going to be his future wife, he wouldn't accept any crass statements about his ailing mother.
As he approached his mother's door, his hands suddenly broke into a cold sweat. Their last conversation hadn't ended quite as he'd wanted it to. She'd told him about her condition, told him about Lee (which he really should've seen coming, he admitted, but would've appreciated the tidbit anyways), and told him about Snape.
He was thrilled to hear that his favorite professor, his role model, in fact, had not turned out to be a cold blooded killer. In fact, he was most likely the most dedicated member out of that rotting Order of the Phoenix, and likely got little to no praise for his loyalty. Draco could only hope that one day he would be out from underneath the burdens of his surname, and be able to live up to a cause like Snape had.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning against wall outside his mother's room. After the conversation they had last time, he'd run and practically broken Ginny's skull against her bathroom mirror. He'd felt terribly guilty about it, and suspected that the conversation he was about to enter into had something to do with that incident. Sighing, he wrapped his fingers around the knob to his mother's room, and stepped inside.
--
Ginny sat up on the bed with a tight smile on her face, watching as Laurent shut the door gently behind him, and crossed the room to sit on the bed by her. "What is it Ginevra? Are you all right? You look like something is wrong."
Clever observation, she had to admit. He had been able to pick up on the slight things Ginny did when she was struggling with her thoughts. She wrung her hands, she bit her bottom lip, and she frowned profusely. All of these things he was seeing a version of before him now as Ginny sat frozen on the bed beside him. Could she do this? Even now, even when she was contemplating how to end things with him, he was still being caring and loving.
"Well," She began, swallowing, trying to find more time to think about how to start.
--
Draco closed the door behind him, letting his presence sink in first before moving closer. "Mother, you asked to see me?" He crossed to her bedside and sat in the chair which hadn't been moved in days. He looked at his mother through the dim candlelight in the room. The lines on her face were more prominent, her eyes seemed tired and sunken into her skull, and her cheeks were hollower than they had ever been. Her complexion had gone from pale to ghastly white and her hair, which had been tied back in a French braid, fell out in places. This woman before him was not the same woman he saw when he went off to Death Eater training. This woman was not the woman who had been at the balls all those nights.
Despite all of her run-ins with Lucius, despite all of her medical complications, she had never looked so bad. This was not his mother. This was his mother's body holding on to the last remnants of her spirit before it was dashed like a flame. The thought made him sick.
"Draco," her strained voice began. She reached up, wand in hand, making the flames on the candles dance higher. She turned back to Draco, the dark spots in her eyes more obvious now in the new light. "I suggest you tell me why you saw it fit to physically abuse Ginevra in this house."
--
Ginny had to fist her hands in her comforter to keep from rubbing them raw. She'd spent the past thirty seconds trying to come up with an acceptable preamble, but came up empty. She hadn't rehearsed this, she was prepared. Could she ask him to leave and come back? Could she ask that of him, knowing what she would be practicing for?
No, she wouldn't do that to him. She would lay that on him, have him know that it was because of his kindness that she was better able to break up with him after their short engagement. No, if she was going to do this, she would have to do it in the Gryffindoric ways she was raised to do everything in. Straightforward, honest, and courageously.
But as she watched Laurent smile at her encouragingly, rub her leg affectionately, and tilt his head as if teasing her about her silence, all she could do was try to keep from getting sick all over the place.
"We have to talk," she blurted out without knowing she was going to.
Laurent jumped back a little, dislodging his hand from where it had intertwined with her fingers. He frowned, but in confusion, not sadness. "We are talking, Ginevra," he said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Yes, she thought, yes they were.
She ran her hands through her hair, pulling it off of her shoulders and tossing it against her back. She shifted against the pillows to her back, situating herself as if she were settling into a stance. "I-" she began, but found her throat closed up. Her eyes burned furiously with unshed tears. She hadn't even said anything yet and she was about to break into hysterics! Before she could talk herself out of it, she said a little louder than she had planned, "I think we should think again about this whole engagement thing."
--
Draco's jaw twitched and his eyes dropped to the comforter, the pattern of which suddenly became very interesting. "I believe I don't know what-"
"Don't think me a fool Draco Malfoy," his mother snapped, interrupting his deflection. He winced, not liking the tone of her voice. Whenever he had been scolded as a child it had always been by his father's hand, never his mother's. Only once, when he'd run through her garden and torn up all her flowers, had she set her cold eyes on him. She had talked to him like she had never talked to him before, calling him disrespectful and irresponsible. She told him it was a clear indication that he had no value for his mother's possessions and banished him from joining her while she was in the gardens again.
He considered it his worst punishment ever.
He thought she would have continued, but she instead fell silent, watching him, waiting for him to explain. How could he even begin to tell her how he felt? What did she expect him to say to her? That he had felt so betrayed by that infuriating red-head that he'd wanted to squeeze her throat so tight that her head rolled off her shoulders?
He almost shuddered at the mental image those thoughts produced. No, he hadn't wanted to kill her. In truth, he hadn't even wanted to hurt her. But when she'd come out of her shower like nothing was amiss, like everything had been right with the world, he'd exploded. Rather, he'd fallen apart. Every single restraint he'd had, any hopes for controlling the emotions that had been orbiting his thoughts for the past six months had disbanded, leaving him a picture of wreckage.
He'd attacked Ginny, yes, he'd drawn blood from her, for which he would never expect forgiveness. He wouldn't even dare ask for it, not after seeing her once he'd thrown Blaise Zabini out of her room not nine or ten months ago. In truth, he wasn't even aware of what he was doing until she had gasped what he thought was her last breath, and he'd left her there in her bathroom. He'd run out of fear of himself, out of fear of what she would do once she regained her composure. He had been disgusted with his loss of control, and more so, what he had done when he lost it.
"I was…" he trailed off, searching for words. "I don't know. I don't how to begin to explain it. I was so angry with her for everything."
Narcissa quirked one of her eyebrows. "What, pray tell, is everything?"
Draco frowned. Didn't she know?
--
Laurent smiled sadly, running the soft pads of his fingertips over the back of Ginny's hand. She shivered, not because of his tender touch, but because it reminded her somewhat of how Tom Riddle had caressed her thoughts in her first year. It wasn't a soothing touch, which it was meant to appear as, it was menacing.
"I understand you are hesitant about being so young, yes?"
Ginny frowned, refusing to yank her hand away from him. "No, that's not it."
For some reason she couldn't say any more. Laurent stopped his ministrations, looking over at her with a curious expression on his face. "What is it then?"
The way his sentence ended as if it had been sliced off with a blade made Ginny draw back from him a bit. "I-I just…" She swallowed again, her mouth drying up every time she parted her lips. "I just think maybe we moved to fast into it. Like maybe we needed to wait longer."
Laurent sat up straighter, Ginny failed to meet his searching gaze with her eyes. "What would we need to wait on?"
"I just think," she paused, scooting towards the edge of her bed so she could dangle her legs off of it. For some reason, having them crossed made her feel trapped. "I just think that maybe we rushed things. That because Draco and Pansy were getting married, we felt like we had been together long enough or felt strongly enough to do the same." She hoped with leaving the last bit up for interpretation, he would do one of two things. Think she was just making sure she was making the right decision concerning her feelings, or think she didn't have feelings at all and break things off. Either would be better than this conversation.
"I didn't know we had a problem with how strong our feelings were," he bit out a little more roughly than she would have figured Laurent could do.
Ginny clenched her jaw, turning her head slightly to keep Laurent in her peripheral. He was sitting on her bed, staring at his open hands, one leg curled underneath his body. His hair had fallen into his face so she couldn't read his expression. He reminded her a bit of Harry, actually, brooding and a bit temperamental. In an odd way, thinking of Laurent as Harry seemed to give her a jolt of bravery.
"I just don't know if I'm at a point where marrying someone is what I can do," she stated simply.
--
"Well," Draco began, playing with the fringe on his mother's cover. She slapped his hand away softly, and he looked up at her with wide eyes. "I would've thought she'd divulged all of the sordid details." He had snapped at his mother, really, instead of just sounding a bit put off with that last part. He frowned. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take that tone."
Narcissa shook her head. "Draco, all I know is, ever since you've come back you've been acting oddly. You seem irritated with Ginevra for everything she does, and then you present Parkinson as a wife. Now you've gone into Ginevra's sleeping quarters and injured her? What conclusion am I supposed to draw form all of this? That I've raised an unstable son?"
"Unstable?" Draco scoffed, eyebrows knitting together. "It's not my fault she went and made things awkward."
Narcissa twisted her head to look Draco directly in the eye. "Don't go pawning the blame on her. If anyone made things awkward it was you."
Draco stared incredulously at his mother for a moment, sputtering the beginning of a sentence that fell apart as it attempted to leave his lips. "Me? Me? How is any of this my fault?"
"Oh don't play stupid," Narcissa turned away from him, crossing her arms in a flash of indignation he'd never seen in her before. "You know very well what I mean. She's been trying to move on with Laurent, now with all this Pansy business, she's gone and thrown herself at him in a false engagement thinking it's the best thing she's got going in her life. If it weren't for your careless actions none of this would have happened."
"I don't see how my actions have anything to do with her relationship with Laurent," He bit out the last part as if it burned his insides to say the man's name.
Narcissa gaped at him. "I don't believe you. If you hadn't broken things off with Ginny, she'd never have gone to Laurent in the first place."
Draco didn't recall throwing the chair he was sitting in halfway across the room, but when he realized he was standing up and that the chair was across the room, well, that was the only conclusion he could draw. "I did not end things with her," he snarled, fists clenched. "After not receiving owls from her I snuck home one night from training and found her practically wrapped around that sore excuse for a Frenchman."
Narcissa, who had been fit to burst at her son's outburst, snapped her lips shut. Frowning, she began to massage her temples, a headache setting in. "You did what?"
Draco rolled his eyes.
--
The look Laurent sent Ginny immediately erased whatever vision she had of Harry. "What do you mean 'what you can do'?" His voice could have just been shaky, nervous, and emotional. To Ginny it sounded a bit like a snarl.
She jumped from the bed, putting some distance between them. Acting as if she had done it to stop from shaking her legs, she began to pace slowly. "I mean I've been through a lot recently. I've… I've had to deal with things that I never thought I would and… and I don't know if I'm in the right mind to be making a commitment like that," she muttered, casting quick glances at Laurent through her hair which hung around her face like a curtain.
That look she had seen in his eyes before, the one that reminded her of the sharks, flashed behind the dark gleam in his eyes for a split second before disappearing. His expression was neutral, his hands still open in his lap, palms up. "So, what you're saying," Laurent began slowly, as if he was having a hard time controlling himself, "Is that you want to call of our engagement because you don't know if you're stable enough to make a commitment with me."
Ginny let the words hang in the air, wondering if that's what she should agree to. There was something about the way their conversation had settled in the room that made Ginny anxious to run out her door. She hadn't been prepared to meet with these kinds of shielded emotions, especially since she was having trouble pinpointing what they were. Maybe she could wait to break up with him entirely, and just call of the engagement indefinitely.
"A little. Yes." She nodded slowly.
A muscle in Laurent's jaw twitched and he stood, taking a few steps in Ginny's direction. She had to catch herself from taking steps away from him. That wouldn't look right, and he may not respond well to it. "Ginny, there's no reason we can't be engaged. We just won't get married for a bit." He had spoken slowly, his head slightly turned as if he wanted to look at her out of the corners of his eyes.
Ginny felt as if someone had turned out the lights in the room she was standing in, in the sense that she was suddenly disoriented. Something about this whole conversation had turned out horribly wrong, and again, she was having trouble putting her finger on it.
"I understand, and that makes logical sense, but it would be worse for me to maybe break off the engagement later than now." She was attempting to reason with him, be rational, maybe sway him with a bit of a pity party if she got far enough. Truthfully, she just wanted to be out of her room. Something had bundled up between them, like charged electricity, and standing there like she was made her feel extremely vulnerable to a possible shock.
"And why would you break off the engagement later?" Laurent turned his head so he was looking at her fully, and took two long steps to meet her face to face, no more than a foot apart.
With his towering height looming down over her, Ginny felt the ability to control her muscles slipping. Her legs were starting to wobble, her fingers were going numb, and she could've sworn she felt her bottom lip quiver. This wasn't right. Something was wrong.
"Because…"
--
Draco stalked over to the bedroom door, thrusting his palm into the wall with a loud 'BAM', and exhaling like a bull. "Can't believe this," he muttered, spinning around and leaning against the wall. "I go off to training, Ginny pledges her undying love, I stop getting owls from her after I stupidly profess my love for her, I come home one night and she's flirting with her soon-to-be." Draco spat out.
Narcissa watched him closely, waiting for his breathing to return to normal as the pieces of this rather large puzzle started to fall into place. They had been wrong. They had been so wrong about everything.
"Draco," she began slowly, as if he were a maniac with a weapon she was trying to negotiate with, "Ginny received a letter from you explicitly stating that you had no feelings for her, and had found someone else at training. I can vouch for this, I saw the letter. It was in your handwriting."
"Bullshit!" Draco roared, kicking off of the wall with a foot, stampeding to his mother's bedside. "I'll say this once, and only once, I loved that girl with every fiber of my god-forsaken being and sent no such thing!"
Narcissa nodded, covering her forehead with a hand, her headache was beginning to worsen. "Draco, I have the distinct feeling that someone tricked you and Ginny into thinking the one had broken things off with the other." Slowly her fingers drew circles down the side of her pale face.
Draco's eyes were so livid, that Narcissa could barely tell if her words had registered. It wasn't until he walked backwards to the wall, and slid down it, letting his head fall into his hands, that she knew he could see how obvious the whole thing had been. "But who?" He looked up from his open palms, confusion and despair written on his features.
Narcissa's face hardened. "Who else?"
--
"…Laurent, I'm sorry, but I just don't know what I'd feel in another month or so," she mumbled, running a hand wearily down her face. She was all of a sudden exhausted, her heart racing to pump the adrenaline through her system that was giving her the urge to leap for her bedroom door behind her. "I mean, we've only been dating for two months, Laurent, that's not long." She shook her head, tears brimming on the rims of her eyelids.
"Love doesn't have a time requirement, Ginny," Laurent took another step towards her. Ginny matched it by leaning back on the heels of her feet.
Barely unable to control her own lips, she muttered, "I didn't even know if that's what this is."
--
"But why?" Draco couldn't wrap his mind around it.
Narcissa had a sour look on her face. "Because it wasn't part of his plan."
"So he decided to ruin my life? Ship me off to training and do away with what might have turned out to be the one good thing left when I got home?" Draco hollered, his short nails making half moons in his palms.
Narcissa wished she had the strength to stand up and console her son. "I'm so sorry. If I had seen this sooner…" She trailed off. "You're father was never adept in thinking about other people.
Draco stood, subconsciously dusting his pants off for dirt. "Don't ever refer to him as that again. As far as I'm concerned, he stopped being my father a long time ago." He grabbed the doorknob, turning it and cracking open the door. Pausing, he turned back to his mother. "I'm going to find Ginny, sort this out." With that, he turned back and walked into the hallway.
--
A series of things happened at once. Laurent, who had been calmly trying to ration out how to respond to what she'd said, had snapped his head up to gape at her. Ginny, who had been on the brink of tears, had seen this and taken a step back, fear clearly visible on her face. And that's when it hit her, what was wrong about this whole conversation. What was wrong about everything. She hadn't even noticed it, and felt like a damned fool for being so preoccupied that a blaring spot of evidence didn't even catch her attention.
This entire time, Laurent hadn't been speaking with a French accent.
Moreover, he'd called her Ginny.
He'd never called her Ginny.
With this realization dawning on her, and obviously noticeable by the way her expression changed, Laurent had responded the only way he could at that moment.
He extended his arm out, face calm as ever, and brought his knuckles against Ginny's cheekbone, sending her to the ground in a heap of high fashion clothes she did not buy, flailing limbs, and sweaty flesh. Kneeling down as she reached out her arms, pulling at the wooden planks on the floor as if they would suddenly sprout handles she could hold onto, he'd grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her back towards him.
The jerking motion he used to bring her back momentarily caused Ginny to see stars, her neck screaming in pain. Feeling dizzy, she didn't realize that Laurent had climbed on top of her, pinning her arms down. With whatever strength she had left, she began twisting and writhing beneath him, trying anything she could to move him from where he was. He struck his fist against her temple, disorienting her and causing her to lose her vision for a moment, and sunk a fist into her ribs.
She didn't realize she had started screaming until he'd covered her mouth with his hand, pressing the side of her face into the cold, hard floor. His palm had fallen across her nose as well, and she tried to gasp for breath, but found she couldn't. He was going to suffocate her.
Her eyes were wide, tears rolling freely down her face as she flailed beneath him. She caught her knee between his legs, dislodging his hand from her mouth, and crawled up from underneath him. She dashed for the door, feeling the weight of her freedom only feet away, when a voice that was colder than any English winter she'd known snarled out "Crucio" from behind her.
She didn't know what happened after that, for the world went dark around her.
--
Draco trudged down the hallway, hand planted firmly over his lips. He felt like such a fool, playing a pawn in another of his father's games. So Lucius had clearly found out and be and Ginny, and disapproved. Instead of simply forbidding Draco to see her, which surely the man was smart enough to know wouldn't have worked, he'd ensured that they would try to avoid each other as much as possible.
There was only one thing Lucius hadn't planned on, for Draco's feelings for Ginny to be more than just an infatuation. He hadn't known it when he'd left that day in December, but after staying up all night in that cell they called a room at 'training,' he'd realized there was a reason the image of her smiling face in his mind would put him at ease.
This meant many things. First, he was going to have to find that blasted brat and explain everything to her. Surely she'd dump that man, Laurent, for him. After that, all he had to was get rid of Pansy, bypass his father's fury, escape with her somewhere they'd be safe, and most likely make sure none of her friends or family could be used as a trap against them. Yes, all very simple. But first, he had to find the bloody redhead.
It was odd, feeling the mixture of pain and relief well up inside of him. He hated that he'd gone so long thinking what he had, that she had just cast him aside in favor of a new toy. That he'd actually sunk so low as to lay hands (and nothing else, on Pansy, because he'd been desperate to make her jealous, that he'd gone into her bathroom and thrashed her against her own bathroom mirror…
He cringed. He could never expect an apology for that, and wouldn't try for one. With his luck, she may not even take him back after all the trouble this relationship had, and would cost. He was halfway down the corridor, leading to the center of the house, when a house elf apparated in front of him. The thing shook like a dead leaf in the wind, its bony knees rattling together in a disgusting manner, hands pulling on its long ears. "Master Draco must come… Mistress Malfoy needs you now," it squawked. Draco frowned. He'd just been to see her.
"But I've got to go find Ginny and straighten this mess out, surely it can wait…"
The house elf looked gravely up at him. "Mistress is not well," it shuddered, and apparated away.
Draco didn't need anymore motivation, sprinting back to his mother's room. As he neared it, he could hear the distinctly rasping voice of his mother, moaning in pain. Arriving at her room, he thrust the door open to find her halfway down her bed, twisting and convulsing against the sheets. Through her groans he made out two words that made his heart stop. "Ginny…! Pain…!"