Winter Dreams Lost Chapter 11, a harry potter fanfic

A/N:

Perseus46: I LOVE the way you think! Malfoy certainly deserves to lose his other eye... (and perhaps some other bits as well). And I definitely can see how its seems like they let him get away. I feel like I had to sacrifice that bit in favor of an opportunity to show a badass Ginny. I went back and read that after your comment, and I was like yeah... they definitely had time to grab him. But the story would be awful boring without this villain. He will get his comeuppance; it might just take a while.

Guest: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy where this story goes!

Arrowkid21: Thanks so much! Enjoy the ride!

zorica: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed their reunion... poor Harry certainly has some conflict going on. Yes, Draco is right nasty, and he will only get worse. Enjoy!

To my readers, the next several chapters get quite dark. There will be blood and violence and more, so consider this one of many warnings.

Chapter 11

Narcissa approached the temple of Artemis and Eileithyia, her hands resting on her swollen belly.

She had come to pray, her last reach of hope. Her unborn children were in danger from their own father, and she had resorted to a last desperate attempt to save them. Upon learning of the pregnancy, Lucius had informed Narcissa that it was the Dark Lord's wishes that she was only to give birth to boys, and that any others should be rid of quickly. She had already given birth to a healthy son, her little dragon, Draco. But this pregnancy felt different, and she was full of fear in her heart that she was carrying a daughter. A daughter she desperately wanted to keep.

She had come to the temple for help. Maybe the goddesses of fertility and childbirth would soften Lucius's heart. Maybe, somehow, they would tell her that she was wrong, that it wasn't a daughter but actually another son, and that her fears were completely unfounded...

Narcissa left the temple later that night, feeling her heart at war with itself. The Goddesses had appeared to her and gave her the last piece of news she had been expecting.

She was pregnant with twin daughters.

She had felt simultaneously jubilant and horrified at the news. Her secret yearning for a daughter, and now she had not one, but two! She begged the Goddesses for mercy, pleading with them to help her spare the lives of her daughters. She should have known that the Goddesses would always ask for payment in return. The pair of female immortals had asked Narcissa if she would be willing to sacrifice Draco in return for the lives of her twin girls.

Of course, she would not.

The Goddesses had then given her a new ultimatum, that at ten years old, one of the daughters would be brought to the temple and serve them for the rest of her days. In exchange, they would give her a spell that would soften Lucius Malfoy's heart, and he would allow his daughters to live. She told the immortals that she would need time, and would come back with her answer.

Her answer came quickly. The very next night, Lucius sternly reminded her that once the Medi-witch verified the sex of the child, if it was not male, the problem would be 'corrected.'

So, she made her choice. Her only choice, really. In order for her daughters to live, she would allow one of them to become a servant to the temple. The alternative was the death of both of her girls, and she could not bear the thought.

As soon as she arrived to the grounds of the temple, her mouth gaped open in horror. Before her were flames and fire, and a great, billowing smoke rising into the sky as the temple burned. She collapsed to her knees, her hands covering her mouth.

No, this cannot be, this cannot be...

Her one chance at saving her precious babies was gone.

Horrible, gut-wrenching sobs consumed her. She clasped her arms around her middle, rocking herself. The temple was destroyed. The goddesses were gone. What would she do? What would happen to her unborn daughters?

She made it back to the Manor in a daze, her hands absentmindedly rubbing her belly, and a steady stream of tears leaking down her face. She walked numbly past the inquiring house elves, past the nursery where her son was babbling for her in the crib, and laid on her bed, still fully dressed.

Perhaps Lucius would take pity on her, and let her keep them. Or even just one...

A hand reached out and grasped her arm painfully, yanking her up and off the bed. Lucius stared down at her with venom in his face.

"Just where have you been, my dear?" he asked menacingly.

"I-I …" she trailed off.

"Oh, my dear. I know exactly where you were. You went to the temple of fertility and childbirth, didn't you? You've been keeping a secret from me, haven't you?"

"No! I just wanted the baby to be healthy, that's all!"

"I spoke to the medi-witch, Narcissa." he said in a deep voice. "She told me you carry twins."

He moved to the entrance of the bedroom, shutting the door and locking it, before pulling out his wand.

"Daughters." he whispered, turning to face Narcissa with a cold mask. "You know the Dark Lord's orders Narcissa, he is asking for pure-blooded males only."

"No!" she shouted, throwing herself to her knees and looking up at Lucius, pleading him. "Please, Lucius, I'll do anything. Let me keep them, I'll hide them! The Dark Lord doesn't need to know-"

"Watch your tongue, woman!" he spat, pointing his wand at her.

"Please," she sobbed, "I'm begging you! This will destroy me! I cannot bear to lose them!"

"I'm afraid it isn't your choice, my dear. You may think me a monster, but this is not easy for me either. However, the Dark Lord's work must be done."

Without a warning, without a flicker of emotion across his face, Lucius flicked his wand. A green light sprang from the wand and right into Narcissa, hitting her in her protruding stomach.

For a moment, she was motionless with shock. Then she moaned, collapsing to the ground. The moan turned into a scream. She screamed with such agony, such pain, that the lights in the Manor flickered, and the large glass windows of the master bedroom burst and shattered in a thundering crash, thousands of shards littering the floor around her.

Narcissa grasped her face as she wailed, her nails digging into her skin and drawing blood. She curled up in a ball on the hard floor, her tears beginning to make puddles on the marble. A wet, liquid warmth began to flow between her legs.

Lucius walked away from his wife, who lay sobbing in a growing pool of blood. He opened the door of the bedroom to leave, hesitating for just the smallest second before exiting the room. Hearing the commotion, he heard his son, Draco begin to cry. The cries of his son joined Narcissa's, filling the hallways of the Manor.

"Dobby!" Lucius shouted, storming towards his office, "Give Draco whatever he wants, just keep him quiet! And send for a Healer. Unfortunately, my wife has just miscarried."

Narcissa lay on her side in her bed the next morning, awake but unmoving, staring at the wall. She had been in that position for over an hour, but had no will or desire to move. Her skin was pale and her eyes were dull, and though she was quite alive and well in physical respects, she resembled a corpse.

The door opened and Lucius entered, standing next to the bed where his wife lay.

"It seems, my dear," she heard him say, "that The Dark Lord was vanquished last night."

So, she thought bitterly, her daughters were killed for nothing then...

Lucius was still talking, but she only heard the tail end of his words.

"So, I suppose now, we can have whatever children you want, my dear. The Healer said you should make a full recovery, and you should have no problems falling pregnant again."

Narcissa did not move or answer. She just continued staring at the wall.

He killed her daughters.

And they died for nothing.

"I'm looking to hire a nanny. Someone to look after my son, Draco."

Lucius eyed the attractive red-headed woman appraisingly.

"You see... Anna, was it? My wife is not well. Sometimes, she is completely catatonic, and at the best of times, her mind is not well. She had some issues a few years ago and never quite recovered. She can hardly take care of herself, let alone a child. Draco is five years old now, and I find he continues to require more of my time."

The young witch nodded.

"And, Mr. Malfoy, sir, who watches him currently, if I may ask?"

"Oh, well the house-elves have been watching him since he was baby. That worked for a while. I told them to just give him whatever he wanted to keep him happy, but they claim he has become increasingly demanding lately and could use with a good nanny."

The witch nodded again, smiling.

"I'd be happy to help, Mr. Malfoy."

Outside, the red-headed woman saw a young boy sitting solemnly on a swing. His brow was creased and his grey eyes stared at his feet. His blond hair was being tousled gently by the breeze on the grounds. She approached the boy, who didn't look up until she knelt in front of him.

"Hello, Draco." she said kindly, smiling at him.

He did not return the smile, but his young face regarded hers suspiciously. She tried to only show warmth to him, anxious to start off on a good note.

"My name is Anna. I'm going to be your nanny."

Draco looked back down to his feet, using the tip of his shoe to dig into the ground. Anna thought about her conversation with Lucius and the house-elves.

"I'm here to help," she started gently, "I heard that you have been quite unhappy lately." She watched as Draco silently continued to dig in the ground with his shoe.

"There are some things that are going to change around here, but I think we will all be happier with these changes."

Draco continued ignoring her.

"I heard you've been hitting the House-elves when you're unhappy, Draco. Is that true?"

Without looking up, he gave a small shrug of his shoulders.

"That's not something that can happen anymore, Draco. We don't hurt people when we're angry."

Draco stopped his foot, and looked up at Anna.

"Father does." he said quietly.

Anna sighed inwardly.

"Well," she said firmly, "that's another thing that needs to change. But we'll take it just one step at a time, yeah? Our first rule will be no hitting the house elves."

Draco's eyes thundered a bit.

"I don't like rules!" he whined, his lip turning into a pout. Unfortunately, the pout was so adorable, Anna couldn't help but giggle.

"I know, rules are hard, love," she leaned towards him a bit, "but if we make some good changes, and do some hard things, we can reward ourselves by having a lot of fun. What do you say, little man?"

Draco eyed her with a creased brow. The suspicion seemed to leave him though, and his brow relaxed a bit. One of his hands let go of his swing and he reached over and clasped a small handful of her long red hair, inspecting it closely.

"Your hair is funny."

Anna laughed.

"Are you my new mum?"

Anna was tucking Draco into bed. It had been a long day, and Draco was very displeased with all the new rules he had to follow. Anna had seemed nice, but sometimes when he asked for something, she didn't give it to him, and when he screamed and banged his fists on her leg, she had made him sit in a corner for a really long time. Even though she could be really mean and unfair, she had read him a book and gave him a bath. He thought that's what mums were supposed to do.

She looked at him as she smoothed his covers. Her face was nice to look at.

"No, Draco, I'm not your new mum, I'm your nanny. Besides, you already have a mum."

Draco thought for a moment.

"My mum is..." Draco wasn't sure what to say. Sometimes he didn't see his mum for days and days. Sometimes she walked around like a ghost. It made him sad. Her face was nice to look at too. He wished she would talk to him.

"I think she forgot about me."

Gentle hands stroked Draco's forehead. Anna leaned close to him.

"Your mum is very, very sick, Draco. But she could never forget about you."

Draco wasn't sure if he believed her. But it was nice to think about. Anna said a lot of nice things.

"If you get sick, will you forget? Would you leave?" he asked, suddenly worried.

Anna smiled widely, putting her hand over her heart.

"Oh, would my brave boy miss me if I was gone? Even with all my mean rules?"

"No!" Draco insisted. He was brave. Very brave. And her rules were stupid. But he forgot those thoughts and closed his eyes when Anna ran a hand though his hair.

"Don't worry," she whispered, as sleep began to overtake him, "I'll never leave you, little man."

I'll never leave you.

Anna had been Draco's nanny for several months when Draco started to get a funny feeling in his stomach. The whole manor and everything in it seemed... off.

Draco had been following Anna's stupid rules, at least when he knew she was looking. He was spending less time in the corner, and had endured less spankings from his father. Anna had held up her end of the bargain on making sure that when he was well behaved, he was able to have more fun. They went for long walks exploring the grounds, and she spent a lot of time playing games with him and reading him his favorite books.

But one night, after Anna had given him his bath and tucked him into bed, she didn't go back to her room. She stayed with him, sleeping on the large lounge underneath his window. She didn't snore, so he didn't mind.

A few days later, he went down to the dining room for his breakfast, and Anna was sitting at the table. Her eyes were very red and puffy, and when she smiled at him and told him good morning, her face was... not right.

Over the next few days, he noticed Anna wasn't as much fun anymore. They still went for walks, she still played games with him, but she wasn't smiling and laughing anymore, and it made him angry.

"You're no fun anymore!" He shouted at her from his swing.

Her eyes widened as she jumped slightly at his voice, turning to look at him.

"What was that, little man? And you will tell me without shouting."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her, his temper rising.

"You're boring!" he said. "You're sad all the time, and you're ignoring me... just like mum! You are going to forget about me like she did."

Anna's mouth fell open, and Draco thought he was about to be sent to the corner. Instead, she rushed over and wrapped her arms around him.

"I'm sorry! You're right, Draco, I've not been... I'm need to... I'm so sorry. I'll do better, I promise." She squeezed him tightly, but it made Draco feel better.

"I'll never leave you, little man."

Things did not get better.

Anna smiled at him more, but he knew she was still sad, and he noticed she starting getting weird marks on herself. When they were skipping rocks into the pond, he saw a dark blue mark on her wrist. He pointed it out, and she immediately healed it with her wand, but it was… weird.

One day he walked by his father's office and heard raised voices. He recognized one of the voices was Anna's. They were shouting at each other, but before Draco could hear what was making them so angry, Anna burst out the door of the office, nearly knocking Draco over.

"Oh! Little man, I almost squashed you like a flobber-worm!"

She reached down and steadied his shoulder. Draco noticed her cheeks were very red and her hair was messy. Maybe she forgot to comb it that morning.

"Come on," she said, pulling him down the corridor, "I fancy some fresh air."

A few days later, Draco was extremely miffed to have Dobby give him his bath and tuck him in. Dobby was not at all pleasant to look at or to listen to. Draco was grumpy and glared at Dobby when he put the covers over him.

"Where's Anna?" he demanded.

Dobby's ears drooped.

"Miss Anna is not feeling well. Dobby is sorry, young Master."

Draco did not see Anna at breakfast the next morning, and sat scowling into his breakfast. Everyone in the Manor was being stupid and he was the one suffering for it. Determined to confront Anna and figure out what could possibly be more important than taking care of him, he walked to the door of her bedroom, raising a fist to knock. Before he could land his fist, he heard Anna's voice. It sounded like she was talking to someone in her room. Draco leaned his ear against the door to try and hear what she was saying. She seemed to be talking to another woman, but he could only hear snippets of their words.

"-not worth it, Anna. You need to get out of there."

Draco's heart nearly stopped. Would she leave him? She promised! She promised she wouldn't leave him…

"I can't," he heard Anna's sad voice answer, "I can't leave him."

Draco sighed in relief. Anna couldn't leave him, she just couldn't. She took care of him, and played games with him, and made sure his father didn't spank him with that leathery thing…

Draco heard Anna crying loudly, and even though he knew he wasn't supposed to, he tested the door to see if it was open. He hesitantly opened the unlocked door, and saw Anna on her knees in front of her fireplace, sobbing into her hands. He walked up to her, kneeling beside her. When he had cried, Anna had given him a hug, and that seemed to help. He wrapped his little arms around Anna. She reached out and brought him into a hug.

"I'll never leave you, little man."

It was almost bedtime, and Draco had that funny feeling in his stomach again. Anna was supposed to be tucking him in, but she was late. He should have been excited to stay up past his bedtime, but he wasn't. Everything was strange again. Even his mum was more strange than usual. She surprised him by drifting into his doorway and looking around the room. She never came to his room.

"Mum?" Draco asked, confused. Her eyes were darting around the room like she was searching for something, and she seemed slightly agitated. Usually she wandered the hallways aimlessly, her face expressionless.

"Draco?" she asked, looking at him as though she was unsure of who he was. She ran a hand through her long blond hair, and resumed looking around the room.

"The girls," she murmured, her eyes slightly wild, "have you seen the girls, Draco? I heard them crying again, but I can't find them…"

Draco heard a muffled cry of a young woman echo through the Manor. Narcissa whipped around, looking out the door.

"I'm sorry, Draco," she said, slowly walking away, "the girls are crying. I've got to go feed them. They must be so hungry."

Draco slowly got out of bed, and followed his mother out the door. Narcissa continued muttering to herself, before walking into the library. Draco headed towards the main hall of the Manor, towards the source of the voice that had cried out.

Anna's voice.

As he continued walking, he could hear the voices of Anna and his Father arguing somewhere upstairs.

He made his way to the bottom of the staircase, but found himself unable to climb the steps. The shouting of Anna and his Father became louder, and they both appeared at the top of the staircase. He saw his Father grab Anna roughly by the arm. His Father's words were a bit fuzzy, like they always were after he drank the special drink he had in his study.

"You forget your place, Anna," he said nastily, "once I give the word, no self-respecting family in the Wizarding World would dream of employing you."

"Do what you must, Lucius, but you will never, ever, put your filthy hands on me!" Anna shrieked.

Lucius snarled, grabbing a handful of Anna's hair and wrapping another hand around her throat.

"I think you misunderstand me, my dear," he growled, and Anna made an odd gasping noise, her hands clawing at his grasp on her throat, "I am a Malfoy..."

He released the hand around her throat and hair, grabbing her robes.

"-and a Malfoy always gets what he wants."

Anna hit his father in the jaw, and he stopped pulling at her robes. He grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him.

"What will you do, my dear? If you deny me now, you will find yourself out on the street. Tell me, could you really leave my son? After all this time, after all you've done for him? Could you really be selfish enough to abandon him like that?"

"Oh, I won't leave him," Anna's voice was dangerously low, "I will take him with me."

Lucius eyes widened with fury. A ferocious snarl escaped his throat as he raised his hand.

A ringing slap echoed throughout the dark Manor as Lucius' hand made contact with Anna's face. There was swirl of robes and red hair, as her body lost its balance from the blow. In a sickening chorus of thuds and thumps, Anna tumbled down the grand marble staircase of Malfoy Manor. Her body came to a halt with a horrid cracking noise at Draco's feet.

She lay on her back, robes strewn about, eyes wide open and unblinking. Her neck twisted to the side at an odd angle towards the young boy. As he stared at her, blood began to trickle out of the corner of her mouth in a small stream of crimson, spilling onto the pristine white floors. Draco knelt down by her still form. His hand reached out, numbly moving a stray lock of red hair out of her face, away from the spilling blood.

I will never leave you, little man.

He barely heard his father storm down the steps, cursing and shouting for the House-elves. Lucius halted mid-rant when he suddenly noticed Draco kneeling by Anna's lifeless body.

"Go to bed right now, Draco!" He demanded.

Draco didn't move.

"Get up now, boy!" Lucius snarled, storming over to Draco.

Draco could only stare at Anna's unseeing face… her twisted neck, and the blood that was still leaking out of her mouth onto the floor. Feeling a wetness under his knees and hands, Draco lifted up one of his hands that had been on the ground. It was now covered with blood. He inspected it on his fingers, before looking up at his Father.

"She said she would never leave me," he said, then looked back down at the lifeless body before him. "She promised."

Hot tears were threatening to fall. He tried desperately to hold them back, knowing he would only be punished for them.

Lucius grabbed Draco by the collar of his shirt, yanking him off the ground and into the air, holding the boy to face him.

"She LIED," Lucius spat, his lip curling, "that's what they do, Draco. All of them. They lie. That's why they have to be punished. That's why they have to be controlled. Men were given dominion over women and they belong to us."

Lucius threw the boy to the ground with a painful thump, and with a swish of his robes headed back towards his study.

"Go to your room, Draco, I've got a situation to deal with. I don't want to see or hear from you until morning." His Father disappeared down the dark corridor.

Draco slowly stood up to his feet, his pajamas now stained red. He walked slowly back towards his room, his bare feet leaving small bloody foot-prints as he walked across the marble floor.

I'll never leave you…

Wiping his face, Draco turned down the corridor towards his room, when his mother appeared around the corner. She was pale and ghostly in the dark, her white nightdress reflecting moonlight from the windows. He wanted to run to her.

"Mum." He choked out.

"Oh," she breathed, stopping at the sight of her son, "Draco, what are you doing awake? It's very late. I've already put the girls to sleep-"

Narcissa's speech halted, and Draco saw her eyes fix on the blood-stained knees of his pajamas, then dart to the redness on his hands. Her face went ashen, and she recoiled in horror.

"What have you done?" she whispered in horror, eyes wide, "What have you done?"

Draco stepped towards her, but she only backed away as he moved closer.

"Mum," he whimpered, his throat tightening, "something bad happened. Something bad happened to Anna."

Narcissa was looking at him in sheer terror.

"You…" she whispered, raising a hand and pointing a finger at him, "You killed them, didn't you? You killed them!" Her voice turned from terror to anger, and she advanced on Draco.

"You bastard!" she cried, "How could you? The Dark Lord is vanquished, and you have killed them for nothing!"

Draco stepped back as Narcissa moved towards him, her hand still pointing accusingly at him.

"You killed them!" she screamed, "You killed them!"

Draco spun around and ran.

Hours later, the Manor lay still and quiet in the night.

A set of small feet left a trail of bloody footprints across the pristine marble floors of the Manor. The footprints led out one of the backdoors of the Manor, and into the dark night. On the sprawling grounds, a young boy sat alone in a swing in his pajamas, his bare-feet stained red. Draco Malfoy stared hard at the ground beneath his feet, using them to gently rock the swing back and forth, the metal of the swing making an eerie creaking noise.

He felt the dark and cold of the night, and he allowed it to swallow him up, to fill him.

His face, just hours ago crumbled in sorrow, was now hardened with anger.

No more stories. No more games.

Creak. Creak.

No more hugs or pleasant smiles.

No more Anna.

Creak. Creak.

As he pushed gently with his feet to move the swing, hot acidic fury bubbled up inside him. He had been lied to. He had been betrayed. He had been so stupid to believe anything Anna had said.

His Father's words echoed in his head, and his small hands gripped the sides of the swing, knuckles turning white.

She lied.

'That's what women do, Draco.'

Creak. Creak.

'That's why they have to be controlled.'

Creak. Creak.

'That's why they have to be punished.'

Creak. Creak.

Anna had lied.

Creak. Creak.

She lied.

Creak. Creak.

Anna had lied to him, and now he was alone.

It was far too early in the morning when Ginny was finishing up her breakfast in the great hall. Harry plopped down right next to her, a wide grin on his face as he stared at her. Ginny was immediately annoyed. She was not a morning person and no one could possibly be this cheerful in the morning, especially Harry Potter. Wasn't he usually dark and brooding?

"What's up with you?" she asked grumpily.

Harry chuckled. "Well, aren't you just the little ray of sunshine this morning?"

Ginny scowled at him, downing the last of her juice. Harry was eyeing her meaningfully.

"Cheer up," he said, "it's going to be a good morning."

"Impossible, "she grumbled, "It's still a morning."

"Well, just wait until the post gets here."

Just as the words left his mouth, Pig and Hedwig swooped down to the table in front of Ginny, each with a parcel addressed to her. Curiously, she collected the parcels from each owl, rewarding them some bits of bacon.

The first parcel was round tin full of assorted baklava from Naz. Grinning ear to ear, Ginny opened the tin, inhaling the scent of the sweets. The tin held an aroma of almonds, syrup and vanilla. She sighed happily before plopping a piece covered in pecans and cinnamon into her mouth, moaning loudly as it melted on her tongue. She closed her eyes and savored the taste, before Harry's chuckle interrupted the incredible spiritual experience happening in her mouth. She opened her eyes and eyes him critically, her cheeks still stuffed with the Baklava.

"That good, huh?" He smiled, eyeing her full mouth. With great effort, Ginny chomped up the rest of the sweet before swallowing, her tastebuds celebrating.

"Actually," she said haughtily, quickly wiping crumbs off her lips, "that was bloody fantastic. And no, Potter, you don't get any. Sweets like these deserve the attention and respect that only a Weasley can give."

She covered the tin carefully, trying to hide her glee at enjoying more of the sweets later.

"Oh, don't worry," Harry added, "I know better than to get a between a Weasley and their food."

Ginny sniffed. "You just weren't raised to have the proper appreciation for quality and flavor."

Harry's eyes darkened a bit, and he looked down at the table.

"No, no I suppose I wasn't."

Ginny suddenly realized just how horrid her comment had been. Of course, Harry wouldn't have been raised with any type of appreciation of well-made food, he had been starved half his life with the Dursleys.

"Oh," she gasped, horrified at her tactlessness, "Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

But Harry seemed to have already moved on, he lifted a hand to stop her, and was smiling again. "It's alright, truly. I know what you meant. You may just need to teach me your foodie ways, as I am currently a pathetic amateur."

Ginny chuckled in relief. "You are anything but pathetic, Potter."

They were smiling at each other, and for a moment Ginny felt like he was a little too close. She was facing him as he was straddling the bench next to where she sat, and as they had conversed, he had somehow moved closer. She could see the bright green of his eyes and his dark lashes behind his glasses. For a fleeting moment, she had the instinctual urge to back away. But as she looked at his kind face, his posture unthreatening and unassuming, the urge began to slowly dissipate.

Harry was a good friend, no, a great friend, and sitting close like this was… nice. Pleasant, even. They were team mates, after all. Ever since she had come back from Egypt, Harry had been kind, and non-judgmental. She felt safe around him, and he never belittled her for the fact that she had required his help more than once. He didn't think of her any less for what she had been through, though, Ginny knew, that Harry knew very well how it felt to be tricked, manipulated, and victimized…

She wasn't sure how long they had been staring at each other when Harry's hand slowly moved up to her mouth.

"You missed a bit," he said, touching the corner of her mouth with his fingers, "just there." He wiped a few crumbs from the corner of her mouth. Ginny's breath caught and she blushed furiously in embarrassment. He drew his hand away quickly.

"Thank you." She mumbled, suddenly finding it hard to meet his eyes. She hoped desperately she didn't have food anywhere else on her face since she had clearly been stuffing her face like a pig in a trough.

"Erm," Harry said, clearing his throat awkwardly, "you've still another package. I think you're going to like it."

Ginny looked at him suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.

"You know what it is?"

He only shrugged slightly, but his eyes sparkling gave him away.

"Alright then, this better be good, Potter." She snatched the parcel and began to open it. Inside, a dark mass of luxurious fabric spilled out. Ginny unfolded the garment, and held it up. It was a dark grey button up cardigan. The cut was sophisticated and feminine, matching perfectly to her school uniform.

"Oh," she breathed, feeling the softness of the fabric, "it's beautiful."

"It's cashmere."

Ginny looked up from the beautiful cardigan to look at Harry. She knew very well her family could never afford such an exquisite garment, and the thought of Harry buying her fancy clothes made her uncomfortable.

"Harry, you really didn't have to- I mean, it's beautiful but-"

Harry held up his hands.

"I didn't!" he said, gesturing to the package, "it's not from me. Besides, there's more to it, look at the note."

Ginny leaned over and took the note from the package, immediately recognizing the handwriting, and felt her heart warm.

Gin-Bug-

A little birdy at Hogwarts told us you were constantly whining about being cold, and begged us to do something to help shut you up. Us, being the geniuses that we are, have come to this brilliant solution. Enclosed you will find a uniform-approved cardigan. We have placed a permanent warming charm on the cardigan, which can be adjusted to keep you as warm as you like. Put it on, and you will feel like you are in the blistering, blazing sun again.

With love,

Fred and George

Ps- the birdy had round glasses and a weird looking scar

Pps- there's nothing for Ron, so tell him to bugger off

Ppps- Cashmere costs a pretty galleon so we're afraid you will receive no more birthday or Christmas gifts from us for the foreseeable future…

Ginny folded up the letter, a bright smile on her face. The twins could be loud and obnoxious, but oh, how she would love to see them right now!

"So," she said turning to Harry, "I whine all the time huh?"

He rolled his eyes. "Well, not ALL the time. Now go on, try it on."

Ginny stood up from the table. She had taken to wearing her school robes and cloak all day, and she had gotten used to the weight of them. They had felt like a shield of sorts. Nervously, she undid the clasp on her bulky cloak, feeling suddenly grateful that there weren't many people in the great hall just now. Harry took her cloak and set it on the table. She took off her black school robe and stood in just her uniform, already feeling the chill around her. She took the cardigan and slid it on. The cashmere felt like so velvety soft and lightweight on her skin. She adjusted it around herself, and almost immediately began to feel the garment heating up. The warmth spread to her head and toes, and if she closed her eyes, she really did feel like she was standing directly in the summer sun.

"Its perfect on you." Harry was looking at her oddly, and she felt her cheeks heat up again. If she were honest, she would admit that the garment fit her form a bit more than she would like. She had gotten used to looser-fitting clothing. Harry was looking at her so appraisingly, for a moment she wondered if there was something more to the look he was giving her.

"Oh, Ginny!" Hermione's voice interrupted her thoughts. Hermione and Ron strode over to the table. Ron immediately sat down and began filling his plate, and Hermione was looking Ginny up and down.

"You look beautiful! That cardigan looks lovely on you." Hermione praised loudly.

Ginny noticed a couple people look over and stare at her, and she suddenly wished again that the cardigan was a bit looser on her. She tugged on the ends of her sleeves nervously. "Its from the twins, its enchanted to keep me warm."

"What?" Ron looked from his breakfast, his mouth full of eggs, "They didn't get me anything!"

Ginny was busy eyeing her outer cloak on the table. Even though she was warm enough now, the urge to cover herself was still there. Hermione seemed to sense her inner dilemma, because she reached over and whispered in her ear.

"You don't need the cloak, Ginny. You look fantastic, you have nothing to hide. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Ginny looked at her in surprise… had her thoughts really been that visible? She looked down at the cloak and at herself. Hermione was right. The cardigan was modest, and she had every right to wear it and feel pretty. Hermione's words and Harry smiling at her as she modeled the cardigan, were making her feel loved and beautiful.

Tom and Draco had made her feel fear and shame. They would want her to cover up and hide, to feel ashamed, to not want to be herself.

"You're right, Hermione."

Hermione beamed back at her. Ginny turned to Harry, her hands feeling the soft and deliciously warm fabric.

"Thank you." She said simply.

Harry just nodded, but the odd look on his face remained.

An Order meeting was scheduled for tonight, and Harry was dreading it.

He had received a rather ominous letter from Bill, stating that he wanted to have a chat with Harry at the end of the Order meeting. Harry knew exactly what the chat was to be about. After everything Bill had witnessed in Harry's behavior towards Ginny, Harry knew he was about to be interrogated.

The Order meeting went as expected. Voldemort and his supporters were continuing to lie low, and the only assumption that could be made was that the Dark Lord was simply gearing up for a move. Whispers of a move on the Ministry itself were flitting about, but no word of any concrete plans. Whatever the Dark Lord was planning, he would be planning it meticulously. The Horcruxes were destroyed, and therefore he was mere mortal and could not afford mistakes. More meetings, more planning.

After the Meeting, it was Dumbledore rather than Bill who insisted he meet with Harry alone for a word. Bill excused himself, and told Harry he would meet up with him later that night.

A few hours later, Harry left his meeting with Dumbledore, feeling utterly defeated. He had found the answers he had been seeking, but not the answers he had been wanting. Though, if he really thought about it, in a way he knew all along…

He trudged dejectedly up the stairs to the Gryffindor Common room, and was surprised to find Bill waiting for him. His heart sank. This was the absolute last conversation he was up for.

"Bill, look, I'm absolutely knackered, can we talk another time?" he asked wearily.

Bill shook his head, "I'm sorry, Harry, but I'm afraid this can't wait any longer. I've found out some… information, and I have to know if it's true. I can't rest until I know." Bills eyes were hard and determined, and Harry knew he had no choice but to relent.

"Fine." He said, collapsing onto one of the leather armchairs and staring at the ceiling. Its not like the night could get any worse that it already was. "What do you want to know?"

He could feel Bill's eyes staring at him for a long time before he spoke.

"Are you the last Horcrux?"

Harry bolted upright in shock.

"What?" he nearly shouted, "How-how did you know?"

Bill sat down heavily, burying his face in hands a swearing. He looked almost as dejected about the fact as Harry felt. "I was hoping I was wrong."

Harry only stared at him, wide-eyed.

"No one told me," Bill said, looking up at him, "I figured it out on my own. I knew about Horcruxes, and then when we listened to the prophecy again tonight, something clicked."

Harry felt the swell of panic rise within him. "You can't tell anyone, Bill. Only Dumbledore knows… and even then… he didn't dare say it out loud. But after tonight, we both knew it was true."

"I won't tell a soul, Harry." Bill said solemnly.

"Not even Ginny?" Harry blurted.

"No, not even Ginny." Bill almost looked ashamed. "But that's why I have to talk to you."

"You want me to stay away from her, don't you?" Harry said sourly.

"That's not- just listen to me, will you?" Bill said. "I need to know, exactly what your intentions are with her. Are you just friends? Are you more than friends? Are you going to pursue her?"

Harry clenched his jaw. These were the exact questions that he had successfully driven away from his mind for the last several weeks. If he allowed himself to dwell for even one second on one of these questions, he felt himself fill up with guilt and an overall wrongness of what he truly wanted.

"We're friends." Harry gulped. "Good friends."

Bill nodded. "But you want more, don't you?"

It was so unfair of him to want more, but Harry found himself nodding.

"Harry," Bill sighed, "the thing is… oh merlin, this is madness. I like you, Harry, I really, really, do. I think you are good to Ginny, and good for her, but I just can't-"

"I know," Harry interrupted, rubbing his eyes with his hands in frustration "you know now, that I'm a Horcrux, so you know how it has to end." Harry felt his throat closing up, but he continued. He had always known that dying was a possibility, but until tonight, he had not realized that his death would be necessary to defeat Voldemort. "For me to want more from Ginny, or from anyone, really, is completely selfish of me."

She deserves someone who isn't likely to be dead soon.

Bill rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Wanting to be loved isn't selfish, Harry."

Harry said nothing, he just shuffled his feet.

"Look," Bill began again, sitting back in his seat, "I'm not going to be a prick and tell you that you have to stay away from Ginny. You two are old enough to make your own choices. But that being said, you should know something else before you decide what to do. Something very important."

Harry felt a knot in his stomach.

What else could there be?

Bill's face was ashen and stony, like he was carrying a heavy weight.

"Before you decide what to do, Harry, you should know that Ginny is cursed."

Harry looked at him confused.

"What?"

"Harry, she doesn't know yet, and you can't tell a single soul about this, but she is."

Bill leaned forward.

"Ginny's life has been cursed, and she is going to die."

Ginny did her best to ignore the fact that Harry had been in a foul mood all week. He was still escorting her to and from her classes, as was Ron, but his face had been drawn into a cold and distant look with not a hint of humor or a smile for days. He hadn't been the same since his meeting with Dumbledore, and though she ached to ask him what had transpired between the two of them, she knew it was really none of her business.

Still, it was getting really old.

A Hogsmeade weekend was coming up, and she had long given up hope that Harry would ask her to join him for the trip. As a friend, of course. But soon she found she was ready to get away from his cloud of depression, as it seemed to be catching and weighing heavily on her.

She got her wish when a handsome Ravenclaw named Michael Corner sweetly asked her if she would join him in Hogsmeade. She had blushed in embarrassment but had accepted his offer. Michael had been giving her smiles from across the Great Hall for several days now, and both Luna and Hermione had mentioned he was very nice and would be a perfect gentleman.

She walked airily back up to Gryffindor Tower, a small bounce in her step. However, the second she stepped into the common room, all good feelings were snuffed out. Harry and Ron stood by the fire-place, and when they saw her enter, both shot her thunderous glares. Ginny chose to ignore Harry's glare, and instead addressed her brother directly.

"What's got your wand in a knot, Ron?" she asked coolly, not at all appreciating the boy's attitudes.

"Corner?" Ron spat, "You're going out with bloody Corner?"

Ginny straightened up defiantly.

So that's what this is all about.

"First of all," she said smoothly, "we are not going out, we are going to Hogsmeade tomorrow. Together. Second of all, I thought you liked Michael. You said he was one of the only decent blokes in Ravenclaw. So, what changed, I wonder?"

Hermione entered the common room. Clearly sensing the tension between the three, she walked up to Ron and put a hand on his arm.

"Ron?" she asked carefully.

Ron shrugged her hand off. "Ginny's going out with that git, Michael Corner."

Hermione tried to pacify him. "Ron, Ginny's a big girl. If she wants to go to Hogsmeade with a boy she can."

"Well, not Corner!" he shouted.

Ginny could feel her temper rising, and was striving to stay calm and not scratch her brother's eyes out.

"Well, how about Dean, then? He also asked me."

"NO!" shouted Ron and Harry together.

"Well," Ginny scoffed at the pair, "like it or not, I'm going with him. Thanks so much for your input, but you can stuff it!" She gave Ron the hardest glare she could muster.

Hermione tugged on Ron's arm, and he reluctantly stepped back. Together they left the common room, Ron muttering under his breath.

Ginny rounded on Harry.

"And as for you, Potter," she said acidly, "we are friends, we are a team, but you are NOT my brother, and you do not get to act like that, do you understand?"

"Ginny," Harry started, his brow creased in anger, "he didn't notice you or even talk to you until you started wearing that cardigan. He just- he just- he only likes you because you're pretty!"

Ginny folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh, well thank god," she said darkly, "and here I was worried he only liked me for my charming personality."

"Ginny, you know that's not what I meant-"

Ginny only laughed incredulously. "You know, I assumed that we would go together as friends, but you've been such a grumpy bastard lately, I'm glad it slipped your mind!"

"Ginny. Please don't go with him."

She stepped closer to him. They were the only ones left in the common room, and she suddenly felt brave enough to speak her mind.

"Why are you acting this way, Harry?" she demanded.

Harry's face softened at her voice, the thundering anger slightly abating. But he only looked at her.

"Why?" she continued, taking another step towards him and searching his face, "why is this so important to you?"

He seemed to be searching for words, his mouth opened a closed a few times.

"Its just," he started, "I'm just…"

He trailed off, but his eyes did not leave hers. He had that odd gleam in his eye again, the same look he had given her when she had put on her new cardigan. But he wasn't speaking, he wasn't explaining anything! Just as she was about to give up and turn away, he made a movement with his hand. He raised it towards her and gently touched her cheek, running one calloused finger across her skin. The touch made a little fluttering inside her, and his fingers were pleasantly warm on her. She liked being so close to him. She liked the gentleness of his touch. But, this wasn't the touch of a friend, or a team mate… No, it was something else entirely, something she liked very much. His hand moved across her face, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She thought of when he had brushed the crumbs from the Baklava from her lips, and wished he would touch her like this more often.

A door could be heard slamming somewhere up in the dorm, and the pair jumped in unison at the noise. Harry suddenly stepped back from her, his hand flying away from her face like it had been burned.

She looked at him confused. He avoided her eyes, shaking his head back and forth.

"I'm sorry, I- I've got to go." He stepped back, and ran up the stairs to the boy's dormitory, leaving Ginny alone in front of the fireplace.

She sat down on one of the empty leather chairs, feeling hot tears of humiliation clouding her vision, but she refused to let them fall.

She did not understand Harry's odd behavior, and once again had been completely humiliated in front of him. She cleared her throat and lifted her chin.

Well, just because Harry Potter was being weird and confusing and stupid, didn't mean he had to spoil her weekend. Afterall, Michael was kind and nice, and he had a very nice face to look at. His behavior wasn't strange, and his intentions were not at all confusing to her. She smiled to herself as she thought of Michael, and willed all thoughts of Harry away from her mind.

Later that night, Harry lay awake in bed, staring miserably out the window at the rain. Ron entered the dorm late, and upon getting into his own bed, saw that Harry was still awake and moping.

"What's wrong with you now?" Ron muttered, getting under the covers.

Harry sighed, laying back and looking up at the ceiling.

"Its nothing." He said quietly.

Ron was already snoring.

"I'm just the world's biggest coward."

Notes:

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