Author's Note: I own no person, no place, no thing – except the plot! If you recognize it, it probably belongs to Ms. Rowling or some other awesome super-human.
Chapter 24 And Then There Was Jamie
"Please?"
"It's your damn turn, you realize that."
"But Draco…"
"Why on earth are you whining? It's called an even division of responsibility. Says so on that bloody chart you've created and stuck to the fridge. I took them out last night. So get your arse out of the bed and go walk them before one of them has an accident!" Draco grumbled as he pushed his girlfriend resolutely away from him so that he could steal her pillows and block out the morning sunshine.
"I'll make french toast!" Hermione wheedled as she scrambled on top of Draco's back and peppered his shoulders with kisses.
Draco snorted. His muffled voice drifted up from under the pillows. "You're asking me to give up at least forty-five minutes of quality sleep to go tromp around in the snow with two incontinent beasts, and then do a perimeter sweep of our building which includes, might I add, climbing onto the roof AND slogging all the way through the garage and storage room, in exchange for a bloody plate of French toast? Piss off, woman."
"French toast and a blow job!" Hermione cried as she wiggled against him in hopes of enticing his natural male instincts.
Draco turned his head so that he could glare at her balefully with one gray eye. "No thanks. Got one last night, so I'm all set. Your negotiating skills are atrocious, Girl. You can't manipulate me with something I already get on a regular basis."
Hermione groaned. "But Draco, I really, really don't want to go! Okay, how about this? French toast for breakfast, a blow job, a foot massage, and I'll do the grocery shopping by myself and I'll even make cioppino for dinner when Renny and Arabella come over this evening if you just please, please, please, take the puppies out!" She snuggled against him and gazed innocently into his one visible eye. It blinked as he considered.
Draco pulled the pillows back down on top of his head so that Hermione couldn't see the grin that spread across his face. She'd never learn would she? Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin. Can't out-manipulate the master of manipulation. He honestly didn't mind the cold that much, not nearly as much as Hermione did, and he certainly would rather do the perimeter checks himself.
It had been nearly a week since he'd seen the footprints in the snow across from the front of their building, and he still hadn't heard a word from Mafalda, the useless cow. Knowing her, the Blackberry he'd given her for Christmas was either already lost, or she'd probably had let the battery run out and had forgotten that all-important instruction that she was supposed to re-charge it on a regular basis.
Arabella had heard nothing from the Minister outside of the fact that there were no records of any magic user anywhere near their home over the last several months, outside of Mafalda, of course. When he'd told Hermione this, she'd pointed out that the information was as good as useless since the Weasley twins had perfected and marketed cloaks that covered the trail of a magic user from any kind of detection. They were expensive, but very much available to the public.
The stress of the potential threat to his and Hermione's safety was wearing him down. Sleep was getting more and more elusive, thus the overwhelming desire to stay comfortably ensconced in the warm pillows. But he'd far rather it be him that came upon the unknown threat than Hermione. When it came down to it, without magic they were both easy prey, but Hermione had a far greater chance of being seriously hurt with her bad ankle, her still slightly weak lung, and her ridiculous aversion to heights.
So really, he would have taken the puppies out this morning anyway, but it was so much more satisfying to get something out of the deal. And a free ticket out of grocery shopping, a serving of oral sex, a foot rub, and some of his favorite home-cooked winter-time comfort foods seemed like a well made negotiation considering he'd only been awake for ten minutes.
Draco pulled the pillow off of his head and sat up. He smirked at his girlfriend, who was still batting her eyelashes at him and gripping her hands in supplication. "Ms. Granger, you have a deal," he said.
Half and hour later Draco's mobile pinged from the pocket of his hooded jumper. He dropped his glasses onto his eyes, pulled the mobile out and looked at the email, then groaned.
To: bibliophile1
From: bibliophile2
Subject: Plus two!
Draco, you know how much I love and appreciate you? Like, really, really? Because I was just looking through the cupboards for the challah bread to cut up for your breakfast, but it's gone all spotty, so I can't use it, and naturally I'd rather make you the best French toast ever since you really deserve it, right? So, could you pop over to the baker's shop and pick up a loaf of challah bread? Pretty please, oh love of my life?
Oh, and a Saturday paper would be fantastic as well!
I owe you two extra favors for this!
Your wonderfully appreciative LG.
He clicked to reply to Hermione's email, then tugged on Artemis and Apollo to encourage them to join him on a stroll down the lane towards the baker's shop around the corner.
"Come on kids, your pseudo-mother has sent us on a merry hunt. It's off to the baker's, eh?" Draco looked down at his little white companions fondly. They were snuffling the ground all around until he spoke to them, at which point their attention snapped up to his face. Artemis and Apollo immediately wagged their little tails and tried to climb up his legs, but he just shook his head and urged them onwards down the sidewalk.
"This way now, you two. Let's go see if we can scare any squirrels on our way, yeh?"
To: bibliophile2
From: bibliophile1
Subject: Re: Plus two!
LG,
I loathe you. But yes, plus two works for me.
You'd better have coffee ready when I get back.
DAM
P.S. All clear out here.
In retrospect, Draco's post-script was entirely wrong, because when he and the puppies returned from their expedition to the baker's with a bag of bread and the Saturday paper, the perimeter had been breached. Draco didn't realize anything was amiss, however, until Artemis and Apollo started yipping frantically. They'd just turned the corner that led around the front side of the salon on the far side of their building, and Draco had his nose buried in the morning's front page headlines, when the puppies went berserk and several voices hissed protest.
Draco's head snapped up. Three cloaked individuals stood at the front door of the Fortress. Three cloaked individuals with ginger hair and expressions of shocked askance on their faces. He locked eyes with the smallest of the three, who had its hands wrapped protectively around its mid-section.
"Shite," Draco said.
"Call your dogs down, Malfoy," one twin said.
Draco flicked his eyes over to the twin who'd spoken. The man was extracting a wand from his pocket.
"Weasely," Draco snapped. "They're babies, you twat. Put your fucking wand away. They don't mean you any harm, they're just excited." With that, Draco knelt down and pushed his hands down on Artemis and Apollo's backsides, encouraging them to sit. Once he'd settled the puppies down – marginally – he looked up at the three Weasels.
Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Ginevra Weasley. Well, Ginevra Weasley plus one, eh?
Draco nodded to her midsection. "That a Potter in there?"
Ginny rolled her eyes.
"How do we get inside Malfoy? The door won't unlock for us," the two-eared twin said. Fred, that one was.
"What's your business here, Weasley?" Draco asked as he crossed his arms.
"Ginny wants 'Mione. We've been looking for her for ages," George said.
"What if Hermione didn't want to be found? Why didn't you respect her wishes?" Draco said as he maneuvered himself in front of their door.
"What is it to you, Malfoy? Are you holding her prisoner or something?" Fred asked, not unkindly, but with definite curiosity.
Now it was Draco's turn to roll his eyes. "Good God, you're thick. Of course not. We live together. Surely you've figured that out already since you've been stalking us for at least a week or so."
Ginny raised a hand. "Malfoy, please," she said quietly. Draco looked closely at the small woman. She was wax-pale and exhausted looking. Empathy, not just for her, but for his still-grieving girlfriend upstairs, over-ruled his desire for privacy from the Weasels of the Wizarding World. He sighed.
The tide had come. Best just swim with it.
"You're about to pop, eh? Our friends just had their son on New Years, and she looked like you for the last two weeks before she delivered. Come on, let's get you upstairs." With that, Draco turned his back on the three shocked gingers, and started unlocking the Fortress.
"Incidentally," he said, "They're goblin-made. The doors, that is. Hermione had them made to keep magical folk from bursting in unannounced – as you lot obviously intended to do. It's two flights of stairs up, gents, you'd better put a Feather-Light charm on your sister and give her a boost." Draco tugged on Artemis and Apollo, who'd been busily sniffing the feet and legs of their visitors, and held the first door open until the three Weasley's and one soon-to-be-Potter crossed the threshold.
"So… Malfoy…" one twin began.
"What's a bloke like me doing in a place like this?" Draco asked wryly as he unlocked the second set of doors. The three Weasley's nodded.
"Exile," he said with a shrug. "The Wizengamot wanted to hide me in plain sight, as it were. I work at the Library, and I live here. These are my dogs, and upstairs is my girlfriend. Now how's about you lot answer me a question. What's it to you?"
George, the missing ear noticeable from Draco's viewpoint, answered for the three. "Ginny wants 'Mione, we told you."
Draco looked at the white-faced Ginny, who was being gently hovered up the stairs. "Why?" he asked.
Ginny patted her ripe belly. "For Jamie. I… I knew Harry would never want Hermione to miss out on Jamie. And I don't want to raise him in the Wizarding World. I need her help, Malfoy. I can't do this without her." She smiled sadly. "Besides, Hermione left before I realized Jamie was coming. I at least want her to have the opportunity to know him – you know?"
The four adults and two puppies finally stood at the front door to the Fortress. Draco, once again, stood between the others and his door.
"Look," he began. "I'm no fool. I know Hermione misses Potter badly, and will be over the moon about the baby. But I have an obligation to protect my family here. Hermione has chosen to leave the Wizarding World, and I don't want her bullied or guilted into returning."
Fred, George, and Ginny all cocked their heads to the right. "We couldn't agree more," they said in unison.
Draco flinched. "Er. Yeh, that was bloody creepy." With that, he turned and punched in the six-digit code. He heard Ginny chuckle behind him. "What's so funny, Weaselette?"
"Your passcode is Harry's birthday? I didn't know you cared so much, Malfoy," she teased sadly.
Now it was Draco's turn to cock his head to the right. Zero-seven-three… Bugger, he'd never noticed that before. "That's on Hermione, not me." With that, he opened the front door.
/…../
Hermione stood at the stove, frying up pieces of sausage and sipping coffee when she heard the familiar beep of the front door unlocking and opening.
"Hey, Love. We have company," Draco called in a somber tone that had her whipping her head to the left. Artemis and Apollo, now free of their leashes, streaked into the flat and ran for their food bowls. Draco held a loaf of bread and a newspaper under one arm, and with his other arm he beckoned three cloaked individuals inside.
Hermione froze.
"Draco?" she whispered.
"It's okay, Love. You'll like this," he said.
Ginny folded back her hood, and said, "'Mione…" in a low whine that was almost a sob.
Hermione stared at a face that, like hers and Draco's, had changed so much in the months since the War had ended. Ginny looked awful though. Sunken-eyed and hollow-cheeked and sick. Hermione stumbled forward a step or two in immediate guilt that the girl had been left to grieve for Harry alone, when she suddenly noticed Ginny's hands. Skeletal thin fingers spread across the rounded swelling of a baby-bump that was so far gone-
"Oh my… oh, God," Hermione whispered. Her eyes raced up to Ginny's, then across the two twins, then to Draco. Draco, who just nodded his head and gave her a small smile.
"'Mione, please…" Ginny pleaded. She held out one hand, and Hermione stumbled forward to grasp it. Ginny immediately placed Hermione's hand on her roiling, writhing stomach, and said, "Hermione Jean Granger, meet Harry James Potter, Junior. He's your godson."
Hermione met Ginny's eyes with incredulous wonder. She giggled, then she started to laugh. And then the laugh turned to a sob as Hermione shattered. Her knees buckled, and it seemed as though cracks in her skin burst directly outward from underneath her beautiful gold locket that Draco had given her months before. Hermione splintered into white-hot grief and anguish, and she burst into violent tears as she dropped to the floor in front of Ginny and buried her face in her hands.
It only took Draco a split-second to react. He dashed around the Weasels and scooped Hermione into his arms.
"Come on Love, up off the floor with you. Ginny, you can sit with her in here, yeh?" he said, and carried his girlfriend into their bedroom. Draco kissed Hermione on the forehead once he'd tucked her into the pillows, then he turned to help Ginny clamber onto the mattress next to her.
Draco had been waiting for three months for Hermione to acknowledge and grieve for her losses. She was the type of person who loved so fiercely, there was no way she could have recovered from the War and Potter's death in the short, frantic months before he'd run into her here in Little Whinging. As close as siblings, Hermione could barely mention Harry's name anymore without growing deeply melancholy, but she never wanted to discuss it. And while they'd honestly had a wonderful time being together, Draco wasn't foolish enough to refuse to admit that he and Hermione both were still pretty messed up people. But where they could address the issue of her invalid parents, since they visited the Grangers every other weekend, there was nothing anyone could do about Potter's hideous absence.
Draco hoped to God that Ginny's presence here would have a positive outcome for his girlfriend. He sent up a quick prayer that it would be so.
Draco turned to walk out of the room as soon as he saw the two girls meet in the middle of the bed to cling to each other, and called back, "Call if you need anything, Little Girl." Then he shut the door and faced the twins.
/…../
"And, that's it. We've been pretty happy here since. Well, that's an understatement. It's been bloody wonderful. I can't honestly remember being happier at any point in my life," Draco concluded his story to Fred and George as the three of them sat around the dining table. They'd just finished polishing off scrambled eggs, toast and the sausages that Hermione had already made, along with two pots of coffee. Draco was surprised, despite the wariness that Fred and George had displayed out on the street, that the twins didn't seem averse to speaking to him or spending time in his presence at all – unlike another Weasel he knew…
"Look," Draco said. "I don't mean to be rude, but, where's your brother fitting in all this?"
Fred and George looked at each other, and Fred gave George a small nod.
George said, "Well, I should start by saying we're all right chuffed about Jamie. The baby, that is. That's what we're calling him. There's no way Ginny can raise a normal kid if he's named Harry Potter Junior, you know? So he's going to commonly be known as Jamie Weasley. That's kind of why we're here though, isn't it? Ginny can't raise Jamie in the Wizarding World, just like Dumbledore didn't want Harry raised up in the Wizarding World. It'd make him a weird kid, plus he'd have a fair huge target on his head, you know? Well we sure as hell don't know how to live like Muggles. But 'Mione does. Not that Ginny wants to give the baby up, mind you! She wants out though, and she needs protecting. We've managed to hide her condition from the public. Seriously, mate, no one knows. Well now, ol' Hopkirk knows, but that's only because Ginny showed her, you know? Just like she showed you and Hermione, but you're both Muggles so I expect it's different… We're all under an Unbreakable Vow, see. So we can't blab. Not even ickle Ronnie-"
"Who is where, exactly?" Draco growled.
The twins did that funny head cocking thing again. "Norway, why?" they asked in unison.
"You know why," Draco said.
Fred took up the conversation thread. "Look, Malfoy, we've already told you we're not here to cause trouble for you and 'Mione. Thing is, we waited for Ron to leave town before we came out here to keep him from following us. He's not exactly happy with Ms. Granger right now-"
"I don't see where it's any of his God-damned business to be anything with Hermione, considering the way he treated her! She's fucking terrified of him!" Draco hissed.
That brought the twins up short. "Why?" they asked in unison, again.
Draco brought his hands down onto the table. "Look, I understand he's your brother and all, but Ron was a right arse to Hermione, and it's taken her months to relax enough that she can even sleep through the night. You saw the locks on those doors. She spent her first month out here hiding under her bed, petrified that Ron was going to track her down and drag her back to the Ministry. When I told her last week that I saw a ginger haired wizard hanging out in the alleyway across from our front door, she actually got sick. Seriously, she ran to the restroom and vomited. Hermione. Is. Fucking. Terrified. Of. Ron. That being said, I think what it comes down to is she just associates him with all the bad things that happened over the past few years, and the girl is hell-bent on running as far from it as possible. And she's happy here. She's able to take care of her parents, she goes to church and plays her violin, she has her ridiculously large personal library over there, and she's got me and the puppies. And we have a great circle of friends. She's doing well here. If Ginny wants to join her, well, we'll all figure something out. Hermione and I have plenty of money, and her money all came from Potter anyway, so it might as well go right back to his family. But no Ron. I won't have him bullying or harrassing her."
Fred snorted and George looked at him incredulously. "Seriously, who are you, and what did you do with Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts Bully and Primary Granger Harasser?"
Draco narrowed his eyes. "Hermione and I have made peace with our childhood issues, I assure you. But I'm serious you two. I will take her and run if I even catch a hint of a rumor that he's gotten wind of her location. If Hermione ever sees Ron again, it will be on her terms, not his."
Both of the twins held their hands up in self-defense. "We know, we got it," they said.
"Believe me," Fred added, "We wouldn't want Ron anywhere near this situation. He's been… volatile… since you lot left town. The press hounds him whenever he's in town; he can barely spit without it showing up on the front page of the Prophet. And the Ministry was so dead set on him becoming an Auror to clean up the last of the Death Eater cells, they've run him ragged. The rest of us have spent time with Healers, have talked through our issues, have even taken rounds of potions to help with depression or what have you, but not Ron. With Hermione and Harry gone, he's shouldered the entire post-war spotlight and responsibility, and it's tearing him apart, you know? I mean, for us, the violence all stopped months ago, but for Ron, he's still in the thick of it. From what Georgie and I can figure, it's why he's so bloody angry with Hermione. She stuck him with the entire Golden Trio legacy, with the added public shame of their break-up, and then had the audacity to lie and disappear."
"Shite," Draco muttered. "That's got to suck. No wonder he's pissed."
"Indeed, my friend. Anyhoo, here's what we know Ron knows. He tracked 'Mione's magical signature to Hopkirk's private office, the one under the courtroom, you know? Right, so the trail stopped cold there. So he figured she'd gone Muggle. Kind of made her hard to track."
"Damn near impossible," George agreed.
Fred nodded, and continued. "So Ginny went by there right before Christmas to talk to ol' Hoppy and discovered this cozy and romantic looking holiday photo of two Muggles all snuggled up in the snow together – and the female looked suspiciously like 'Mione. Well Ron knows about that, that 'Mione's a Muggle with a Muggle boyfriend. Flew right off the fucking deep end of crazy-shit when Ginny told him that one, because he figured it meant she'd actually dumped him for some other bloke and just took off. But he doesn't know it's YOU. Helga on a hippogriff, that was a shock when I saw the photo of you two in the Muggle newspaper. When I saw that you lot were in Surrey, I came to Little Whinging and started looking around. It only took me a day or so to figure out where you live."
"Shite," Draco gasped. "Is that all? A day?" He dropped his head into his hands. "Fucking Sutton!" he groaned. "I didn't even know our photo was taken that day! I can't protect her, and I can't expect any help from the Ministry. We'll have to run. If it was that easy for you lot to find us, anyone can find us. I have so many more enemies than her, and they'd kill her without thinking. Fuck!" He stood suddenly.
"What?" The twins asked.
"We can't stay here! I have literally no way to protect my family! For crying out loud, people could just fucking Apparate right into my living room if they want to! Mafalda does! Who knows if the press followed you, or Death Eaters, or – oh God, the Greengrass's – oh that'd be a fucking nightmare!" Draco started pacing, then suddenly whipped around and dashed to the small desk where Hermione kept all of their household bills and documents. There was a small safe with their bank deposit keys inside, and he needed to start collecting their valuables.
Fred and George had a brief but quiet discussion once they realized the magnitude of Draco's fear. The man wasn't kidding, and he wasn't being a coward. The Weasley's were careful, but they'd potentially put Draco and Hermione in tremendous danger if anyone had been savvy enough to follow them.
"Look, Draco, mate," George called. "Come sit down for a mo'," he said as he waved to the distraught man that was piling envelopes and papers on top of the kitchen counter.
Draco's head snapped up, and he glared at the twins. "What?" he bit out.
"Look, you're obviously distraught over this whole thing, and we get that. And you're absolutely right that anyone clever enough could have followed us, or could figure out where you two are. Well, in light of your complete willingness to help with the Jamie situation, and the fact that we brought this mess to your door, Freddie and I can certainly cast a few wards over your flat. It's not even illegal," George offered.
Draco's shoulders slumped. "God, that would be brilliant. Are you any good at it? Because I know quite a few good ones I'd like you to use, if you don't mind. Old Malfoy stuff, you know?"
Fred nodded sagely. "Ah, the young Malfoy heir has much knowledge he wishes to share, and we shall hear it, but in turn we offer that our eldest brother Bill is a curse-breaker and has taught us many crafty and archaic tricks as well."
"Let us convene!" George cried.
Draco rolled his eyes. "You two are rather odd, anyone ever tell you that?"
/…../
Hermione cradled Ginny in her arms and cried a river of regret. In her entire life, she'd never felt the sting of guilt as harshly as she did when she'd seen Ginny, sick half to death with a pregnancy that was sapping her life force. She should have been there. Should have stayed. Should have known!
"'Mione, please, I'm going to drown if you don't stop all the waterworks," Ginny sniffled. Her own joy in seeing her long missing friend was rapidly falling away. Hermione wasn't handling this terribly well at all.
"I'm sooo, sooo, sorry!" Hermione wailed, for the fifth time in ten minutes.
/…../
"Are you done blubbering now?" Ginny asked archly.
Hermione nodded miserably, and her eyes filled with tears again. She'd long ago given up on the tissues and had settled for a hand towel – much more absorbability – especially once Ginny complained that the front of her jumper was soaked through. Now Ginny sat propped up in Hermione and Draco's bed wearing one of Draco's t-shirts – and stretching the midsection quite horridly out of shape. Hermione hopped off the bed to accept the mugs of tea from Draco. He kissed Hermione on the forehead again before he closed the door behind him. Hermione passed a mug to Ginny, then folded herself into the bed beside her friend.
And her friend's belly. It wiggled and shook, as if an earthquake had taken over.
"I've never seen a pregnant tummy move like yours does, Gin," Hermione said fondly, as she reached out to stroke Ginny's cotton covered mid-section.
"Neither have I. Or even Mum. He's very active, and strong. Sucks the energy right out of me, really. It's all I can do to keep fed enough to support him, which is why I look so bloody dreadful. The least bit of magic use gets him riled up, to the point where I use it as little as possible. I don't even carry my wand anymore because he makes things happen when it's near."
"Wow, that's…" Hermione began.
"Unusual, yes. But it's funny too, you know? I've almost been living like a Muggle these past months, so I figured I might as well seriously sit down and consider my options. I can't raise Jamie under the noses of the Ministry and the Prophet. He'd be a freak and a figurehead before his first birthday."
"That's why Dumbledore left Harry with the Dursley's…" Hermione drifted off with a frown. The Dursley's had been awful to Harry, but what kind of boy would he have become if he'd been raised within the Wizarding community?
Ugh, freak and figurehead, indeed.
"So, that's essentially why I've been looking for you. Or well, I've been hunting you down, I guess. I'm sorry, Hermione, it's just… Harry wanted this, for us to be together in each other's lives somehow, and I have no idea how to live in the Muggle world. And who else can I even trust not to sell Jamie's identity to the highest bidder?" Ginny wrapped her thin fingers around her mug and absently rolled it back and forth in her palms. "I don't have much time left, maybe a week or so. We really left this down to the last because of Ron, and because Mafalda refused to give up your location. Loyal, that woman is. Takes her job seriously."
"Ginny… What about Ron?" Hermione asked nervously.
"Oh, you know how he is. Big hero, got to protect everyone. Hasn't taken a day off since the war ended, you know? Honestly, 'Mione, he's going mad. He's so angry all the time, and he's so overwhelmed… He's not the same anymore, and while I'm not scared of him for myself, I have to say he's enormously angry with you," Ginny said quietly.
"Because I left him," Hermione said, nodding her head.
Ginny shook hers in the negative. "Because you lied to him."
Hermione blanched.
Ginny shook her head again. "Look, let's not talk about that all right now. I want to hear about you and Malfoy! How in the world did you two end up hooking up? Did you really leave to follow him?"
Hermione scoffed. "As if! I had enough problems when I left. I certainly wasn't cheating on Ron, and I was just as shocked as anyone could have been when I walked into the town's Library and ran into him…"
/…../
Hermione stretched her legs and dragged her stiff body off of the bed, then walked around to help Ginny out as well.
"Smells like Draco's got lunch nearly done, let's get you and Jamie fed up, all right?" Hermione said as she led Ginny out of the bedroom. In the living room, Fred was playing with the puppies. Or rather, he was antagonizing the piss out of them, and having a merry time with it. George was in the kitchen with Draco, and waved the girls over to sit at the table. Soon the five were companionably eating lunch and developing Ginny's exit plan from the Wizarding Community.
"You know, Mafalda's great at this kind of shite, I can't believe you didn't talk to her first," Draco said.
The Weasley's all shrugged. Ginny said, "Honestly, Malfoy, I didn't want to tell anyone what I was up to. The less people that know about Jamie the better, as far as I'm concerned. Call it pregnancy paranoia, but I kind of put all my hopes in finding Hermione. And now I guess since that includes you too, I'll be counting on you not to rat me out to the press." She grinned at him, then reached over and stole the last piece of chicken that he'd been attempting to scoot onto his plate.
Draco scowled as Ginny took a big bite out of his chicken. "You know that goes both ways, Weaselette. You can't go giving our secret away either."
Ginny rolled her eyes as she chewed.
"So where do you want to live? Do you want to stay close to your parents in Devon, or are you looking for something near London and Diagon Alley?" Hermione asked.
Ginny was about to respond, but froze as Draco piped in. "You know, Arabella Figg told me the other night that Number 4 Privet Drive is up for sale. Seems the Dursley's finally gave out on trying to hold onto it. We could buy that. You could raise Jamie in the house his Dad grew up in, maybe make some better memories there, eh?"
Four pairs of eyes turned to Draco. "What?" he asked.
George whistled through his teeth. "That's bloody brilliant, mate."
"Aye," Fred said. "We already know it, and it may even still have a floo connection to the Burrow. Mum would love that."
Ginny and Hermione remained speechless, so Draco and the twins turned to them. "Well?" the three males asked in unison. Draco flinched when he realized he'd done accidental twin-speak.
Hermione's eyes watered as she turned to look at Ginny, who was still frozen, and whose face was turning bright red right in front of them. "What do you think Ginny? Want Harry's old house?"
"What do I think?" Ginny whispered. She darted her tongue out and licked her lips, still greasy from her nicked chicken, and shuddered. "I think my water just broke." Then she groaned and leaned over to clutch at her bump.
To Be Continued.
Author's Note: Okay, so I struggled with this chapter because I had so many issues I wanted to touch at least lightly on, but I didn't want to resolve, but then I wanted it to be somewhat cohesive… Anyhoo, I'm sure you can all guess where the next chapter will be heading – which I have not written yet! That's right, I'm totally free-wheeling here at this point. Good thing I have the whole story planned out or I'd be panicking. Oh, and in case you were wondering, I'm going through the entire five years of Draco's exile, so obviously this story is nowhere near done. Yay!
Oh, and if you've gone and followed me on Twitter – thanks! I'm trying to figure out which people who followed me are you all and which ones are junk, so if you're from here, flag me in some way so I'll know it's you, and I'll follow you in return! I've tried to post up some pics of things that inspire me – including my part-labrador/part-polar bear traveling companion.
Acro
PS: To the writer of my very first angsty, angry negative review (1 in 400, not bad!), I hope that shoe leather tastes good.