May 26, 2014

Author's Note: Reviews appreciated!

Double-Pointed Needles

Chapter Three: Knitting in the Round

"Can you please go to sleep?" Draco groaned, flopping around to bury his face in his pillow.

"I can't," Ginny said through clenched teeth. "I'm just so frustrated!"

"You can work on your sock tomorrow. We both need sleep. Tomorrow is Theo's party, remember?"

Ginny ignored him, focusing instead on the damn sock she'd been trying to knit for almost a week. Her needles clicked loudly in the silence, but Ginny could barely hear them over the grinding of her teeth.

"Don't you get it?" she asked as she yanked more yarn out of the tangled ball. "I'm frustrated. It's been six days. Six long days."

She didn't see the recognition cross his face, but she knew he understood her meaning when he rolled over and sat up. Out of the corner of her eyes, his hands reached for her and then pulled back. Reached, pulled back.

She threw the knitting down on the bed in disgust and made a sound to accompany the gesture, her hands grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him to her. As soon as she made contact, his body kicked into gear, no longer hesitating. Their lips caressed and soothed, and Draco's arms wrapped around Ginny like a vice until he'd pulled her onto his lap, his erection pressed urgently against her core. She whimpered, and he groaned as his hips jerked up and she rocked against him.

His lips soothed her burning flesh, and her fingers warmed his.

"No, we can't," Draco said against the skin of her neck.

"Why the hell not? We're married, not dead. This is our home. What does your mother expect from us?"

"Too much," he answered as he slowly pulled away.

A lump was growing in her throat, making it harder for her to swallow properly, and her eyes burned with angry, frustrated tears. She slid off Draco's lap, back to her side of the bed. As if nothing had happened between them—though, dammit, she wish something had—she picked up her knitting and went back to work at a less frenzied pace than before, this time distracted by her body and heart's throbbing.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly but firmly, in that tone that said he refused to be sorry at all.

She blinked as hard as she could, trying to stop the tears from leaking out. Her heart was still racing, but now in disappointment. "You should be."

Minutes passed in which she worked on moving yarn from one needle to the other and he sat in silence, watching her sock take lumpy shape. When she felt suitably in control of her voice, she said, "We shouldn't go to Theo's party tomorrow."

"Why not?"

"All our friends will be there. How can we possibly keep up this act in front of them?" she asked.

She hadn't told him about the encounter with Harry, Ron, and Hermione while she and Narcissa had been out shopping that morning. Ginny had been too embarrassed by her behavior towards them. Truthfully, her desire to skip Theo's party had less to do with sticky situations that could alert Narcissa to their ruse and more to do with not wanting to face her brother and her friends again. They would require explanations for her actions, and she had none that they would accept. This farce she and Draco were putting on made little sense. How could her friends possibly understand why they were doing it when Ginny didn't understand herself?

"You know my mother refuses to miss it."

"How did she see the invitation anyway?" Ginny groused.

"It was sitting out in the open. Maybe you should have put it away," he snapped.

Ginny bit her lip to keep it from trembling. Is this what their marriage had become? Too many arguments about nothing and not nearly enough sex?

"I think I'll go to sleep now," she said. As she put her knitting in a basket next to the bed, she used nonverbal magic to turn out the lights, and then she made herself as comfortable as she could under the duvet, her back to Draco.

She felt his hand touch her shoulder, but she shrugged out from under it.

Didn't he see what this ruse was doing to them? Was his mother more important than their marriage?

The next morning, Ginny left breakfast as early as possible without speaking a word to either Narcissa or Draco. She retreated to the parlor with her knitting, determined to finish her sock before Theo's party later that night. First, she pointed her wand at the piano in the corner, and it began to play a soothing melody by itself. Taking a few deep breaths, she focused her attention to the needles and each stitch. After about half an hour, she started to get the hang of it, picking up a comfortable rhythm that required little concentration.

She was so absorbed in her work, she didn't hear when Narcissa entered the room.

"What is that awful noise?" she asked, distaste clear on her face.

Ginny jumped, startled by the interruption, and looked around in confusion. "What noise?"

The other woman gestured at the piano. "That noise! I can hardly hear myself think!"

Ginny rolled her eyes at her sock, not daring to do such a thing to her mother-in-law's face. "It's my favorite song by the Weird Sisters," she said. She'd asked for Hermione's help to find a spell that would charm a piano to play rock songs, but when Hermione had turned her nose up at the request, she'd found the means herself. She'd even impressed Draco with the product of her search, but Ginny knew Narcissa couldn't appreciate the effort if she didn't agree with the results.

Narcissa hmphed and crossed her arms, but Ginny ignored her, which must have irritated the woman to no end. Ginny could see her body becoming more stiff, her lips turning further and further down in a scowl. Narcissa wasn't the kind of woman to bring attention to her irritation; instead, she became completely still, like a snake preparing to strike.

"If the sound bothers you so much, you could use a muffling charm on your bedroom door," Ginny said, never losing track of her knitting.

"If I cared that much, the music would not be playing at all. I came in here because I can't find a single house-elf. I know they're not supposed to be seen, but this is ridiculous. You haven't given them a holiday or something ludicrous like that, have you?"

That caught Ginny's attention enough to make her lower her knitting, and she didn't care that she was supposed to be pretending. The woman's selfishness was infuriating. "We don't have any house-elves, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Excuse me?"

She should have held her tongue, but she couldn't. She couldn't. She couldn't control her emotions or her actions when she remembered how Draco had struggled to survive in a Malfoy-negative, post-war world, completely alone and fragile, even though he'd never shown that vulnerability to anyone. She couldn't control herself when she thought of her parents and brothers including Draco and making him feel welcome (even if it had some taken time to reach that point) when his own family was so fractured. He'd had no one on his side until Ginny had made her family his, her friends theirs. He tried to pretend that he never needed anyone's support, but she knew better. She knew.

"If you'd stayed in the country long enough after the war, you would have known that all of your house-elves had been confiscated by the Ministry. The Malfoys were banned from ever having them again."

There was a challenge in the statement, and Ginny half-expected Narcissa to feel embarrassed by the accusation.

Instead, Narcissa stared Ginny down, almost as if calculating whether Ginny was telling the truth.

"Who has been preparing the meals, then? Who keeps the manor tidy?" she asked.

Ginny sighed, and it almost sounded like a huff of frustration. Had she really expected this conversation to go differently?

"Draco does most of the cooking. We both clean the manor ourselves."

Narcissa frowned and looked away. "Ridiculous." Then she stormed out of the room, and as disappointed as Ginny was, she couldn't stop a grin from lighting her face.

As always, Theo's party was full to brimming with attendees, food, alcohol, and dancing. For the first half-hour, it had been easy for Ginny to avoid friends like Harry, Ron, and Hermione while speaking to acceptable ones like Blaise Zabini, Daphne and Astoria Greengrass, and Pansy Parkinson.

Ginny began to sweat when Theo and his lovely wife approached to greet them.

"Ginny," he said, his arms stretched wide and a smile of disbelief lifting his lips. "Look at you! You went all out this year! I've never seen you so bejeweled."

She forced an uncomfortable laugh to hide her nerves. "Oh, please. Narcissa was the designer behind the dress. I'm simply her mannequin for the night."

"Mrs. Malfoy," Theo said, turning his attention to the other woman. He took her hand and bowed over it, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. "You look lovelier than ever."

She'd been staring at Luna through narrowed eyes, but now she smiled. "You flatter me, Theodore. How are your parents?"

As Theo captured Narcissa's attention, Ginny sidled closer to Luna. "You look radiant," she said softly. She couldn't contain her smile as she took in Luna's appearance.

Even though she'd married into wealth, Luna never dressed to show it off. Tonight she wore a soft, lilac gown that bared her shoulders and hugged her pregnant belly. The topmost layer of the dress was so gauzy, it made Luna look like she was floating, and when she turned to greet people, the material floated out and up, like an upside-down flower twirled between a child's fingers.

"It is rather warm in here," Luna said. "Theo won't dance with me. He thinks I'll combust."

Theo, having tuned in upon hearing his own name, became attentive once more. "No, darling. I didn't say you'd combust. I said you'd give birth. Those have two completely different meanings."

Luna rolled her bulbous eyes, and her hands fluttered to her stomach. "Don't be silly. The baby isn't even clicking yet. She'll let me know when it's time for her to come out."

Theo put an arm around Luna's waist and pulled her close. "Don't you mean kicking? She's been kicking for months now."

"No," Luna corrected. "I meant clicking. Kicking and clicking have two completely different meanings, you see."

Theo smiled even wider than before, amused and so clearly in love with his wife. "Yes, I do see," he said.

Ginny had to look away from their display. At the moment, Draco was somewhere else in the room mingling with other people. They still weren't speaking to each other, mostly because Draco thought she was being childish and Ginny just wanted him to understand. Seeing Theo with his arm wrapped around Luna, claiming her, accepting her for exactly who she was, left a bitter taste in Ginny's mouth. If Narcissa hadn't been there, Draco would have been at Ginny's side, too. They would have been sharing adoring glances, dancing, and laughing together. It made her sick that they had turned into this, and she hated being jealous of her friends.

"Congratulations to you both," Ginny said, her eyes stinging. "How much longer?"

"Any day now," Theo replied, beaming with pride. "But hopefully not today. I'd rather not have a baby on the ballroom floor."

"It would be auspicious if we did," Luna said, which made Ginny laugh.

There must have been something strange about her laugh because Theo's brows scrunched together. "Ginny?"

"I'm just going to go get something to drink," she said, blinking furiously as she fled into the crowd. She hadn't looked at Narcissa's face as she turned away, but she knew there would be disapproval there, not concern. The only concern Narcissa had was for herself and her family's reputation.

"Oi, Ginny!" Ron called as she tried to dodge past him. "Hey!" he said, grabbing her arm to stop her.

"Don't put your hands on me, Ronald Weasley!" she cried. Her outburst earned them some stares from people, so she took a step closer to Ron to contain their conversation.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I just want to know what that was at Diagon Alley yesterday. You didn't have to talk to us that way."

He sounded sincerely hurt, but Ginny couldn't think about that. Narcissa was looking at her—always looking at her—so Ginny straightened her spine.

"I'll speak to you however I like. We aren't even in the same category, you and I."

"Oh, really," Ron snarled. "What category are you in, then? Last I checked, the same woman gave birth to us. Didn't know money made you better than me!"

She had to hide her stricken expression. Steeling her resolve, she shot one more glance at Narcissa, and then said, "Well, it does. You and your friends shouldn't speak to me for the rest of the night."

The skirt of her voluminous dress robes hit Ron in the legs as she turned on her heel and left. She didn't look at any of the people she passed, didn't say a word to anyone; she just needed to get outside, now. She needed air and space.

Once she found them, they weren't as comforting as she'd hoped. She took deep gulps of the warm night air, but she still felt like she couldn't breathe. Her damn corset only bound her lungs tighter, leaving less room for breath.

"Ginny?" The voice was hesitant and completely unwelcome at this moment when she was breaking down.

"Not now, Harry," she said, gasping. Without facing him once, she took off into the maze of hedges that made up the Notts' garden. Of course, because it was Harry, he followed after her.

"What's going on with you?" he asked as he trailed her. "Why are you pushing everyone away?"

She wasn't sure if it was the lack of oxygen in her brain or pure exhaustion, but she told him the truth. "I have to."

"Have to?" Harry asked.

She steadied herself on a statue, carefully placing her hand on Agrippa's stone legs instead of his crotch. It would have been the first one she'd touched in a week. When she finally looked at Harry, miraculously, breathing became easier, a calm spreading through her whole body.

"Draco asked me to pretend to be a real Malfoy wife while his mother was staying with us," she said as she met his gaze straight on.

She used to think about how much easier her life might have been if she'd stayed in love with Harry, but then she remembered it wouldn't have been easier at all. Loving Harry, being Harry's wife, would have come with a different set of challenges. Harry needed someone who would let him save her, and Ginny wasn't that witch. She preferred to save herself. She preferred someone who would challenge her in turn, instead of completely deferring to her for the sake of peace. That someone had been Draco, and she'd never regretted her choice.

"I don't understand," he said. Of course he didn't. Ginny hardly did herself.

"We're pretending to be the people Narcissa wants us to be. We wear fancy clothes; we look down on people who don't have as much money or status as us." She laughed then, a self-deprecating, cough-like sound coming out of her mouth. "We even pretend to have house-elves. Narcissa was so shocked when I told her we don't have any, she just ignored me. Pretended she hadn't even heard."

Harry took a step closer, his brows slanting over his nose in confusion. "Why are you doing this?"

Desperate for him to understand, Ginny took one of his hands in both of hers. "Because I have to! He's my husband, and I love him. I have a family, Harry, and he doesn't. If he wants to try to please his mother, who am I not to try with him?"

His warm hand landed on her shoulder, and he gave a comforting squeeze. "But look what it's doing to you."

"Oh, you can tell? Draco doesn't know, he doesn't see— "

"Draco doesn't know what, pray tell?"

Standing in the light from the door stood Narcissa, arms crossed and a scowl marring her perfect face.

"Nothing," Ginny said, letting her hands drop as she stepped guiltily away from Harry. She didn't address her mother-in-law or her friend as she returned to the party. Honestly, the less she spoke, the better.

Draco found her in the one place that gave her solace these days: the garden, trowel in hand, soil staining her expensive dress robes.

"Ginny," he said, but she didn't acknowledge him. Instead, she stabbed the trowel into the ground, savagely scooping dirt up and shoveling it into a bucket next to her. "Ginny," he said again. "I will not abide by you ignoring me."

That finally got Ginny's attention. She stood up, and she knew she looked a frightful mess. Her hair was in disarray, there was soil all over her hands and under her fingernails, and her new robes were probably ruined.

"I don't care what you will abide by, Draco Malfoy," she said in a seething voice. The trowel was pointed at him threateningly, and he took a step back from her. "You don't talk to me like that. I am your wife, not your child, and you never would have talked to me like that before this week!"

Draco's eyes widened slightly in shock. He took a step toward Ginny again, and she wasn't sure if that made him brave or an idiot. "Put that away," he said calmly, but it was still a demand, and it made Ginny bristle.

Still, she threw the trowel down, a surge of magic shoving it hilt-deep into the soil. She held up her empty hands sardonically, but she was anything but helpless.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Gardening," she replied with a sneer.

"My mother isn't even in bed yet, and you're ruining your clothes." He was approaching her again, but warily this time.

"You might be able to ignore the garden for two weeks, but I can't." Her fists clenched at her sides to keep them from shaking, her nails digging into her palm keeping her in control of her tears.

He must have heard the accusation in her voice because he paused, his foot falling mid-step.

"What's this about?" he asked.

"What do you think this is about? A garden needs attention and love. You can't just put it aside for two weeks; by the time you come back, you've already lost the crop. And you might be able to save it, but it won't be as ripe as it would have been if you'd just given it the care it needed when it needed it."

"I see," he said, and Ginny could hear the way his jaw clenched. "Is this about the garden or about you? Merlin, Ginny, we're halfway done with this thing. Can't we… can't you just…"

"What?" she asked, snarling. "Do you want me to just ignore everything? Pretend everything that we have and that we are doesn't exist for the sake of your mother, a woman who hasn't acknowledged us in over a year?"

"Can't you just put yourself aside for two weeks while we get through this visit?" he asked, exhaustion in his face while anger filled his voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose as if she were a child he didn't know what to do with.

The gesture made Ginny stumble where she stood. When had he grown so tired of her that he couldn't see her side of this situation? Suddenly the man in front of her was a stranger, someone completely unfamiliar to her. They had been happy once. Why weren't they anymore?

"Some things can't survive two weeks of neglect," she replied, holding herself together as much as she could. She wrapped her arms around herself. "You can't make a rose out of a cactus."

"I thought cacti had more resilience."

This time Ginny didn't stumble. Instead, she took a step towards Draco and then another one, until she realized she was fleeing.

At the door to the manor, she looked back at Draco, her expression stricken, her heart sick with pain. "When you married me, I thought that meant you wanted a cactus, Draco, but if anyone's a cactus right now, it's you. I can hardly get close to you anymore."

But he only looked back at her with the cold mask of impassivity he'd worn for so long after the war. The one she thought he'd taken off and packed away for her.

TBC