35 – Going Through Hell
The day was beginning to dawn and the sunlight was still timidly entering through the Shell Cottage's windows, announcing what would be a beautiful day, warm and sunny.
Totally opposite to Ginny's state of mind.
She was curled up with James, practically in the same position she had gone to bed the night before, in the same room where her niece Victoire slept.
She had refused to go to the room her mother had offered her, preferring to stay with James and Aries. The baby, who had been placed in a makeshift crib in the same room as his brother and cousin, was now sleeping peacefully after the chaotic events of the night.
The bed was too small for both of them – apparently James had taken to his uncles' height and was growing visibly – but, even so, Ginny insisted on staying with him throughout the night. And he had cried like he had never done before, not even after the attack at their shop.
And, in the midst of his pain, James had cornered Ginny as she had always feared he would. Ginny closed her eyes, trying to forget the memory of their previous conversation, but it came back to her head with the force of a storm.
She remembered James' inquisitive expression, the question forming in his mind, the posture of someone who would no longer accept evasions...
"Why we're here?" James had sniffed, pulling his head away from his mother's arms to look directly at her. "If we'd stayed at home, Della would've had our help... She wouldn't have been alone."
At that moment, Ginny couldn't help but feel empathy for the boy's desire to be at home - at Malfoy Manor.
"We couldn't have done anything, my love." Ginny whispered trying to calm him down. "Della belonged to other family."
"Della didn't belong to anyone." James replied fiercely, oblivious to the idea of ownership over the elves. "She was my friend."
Ginny nodded empathetically and ran a hand through her son's hair. "She was my friend too."
That brought more tears to the boy's emerald eyes, but with a determination worthy of his father, he refused to let them fall, even though he was feeling devastated by the loss. And in this moment of utter desolation and loss of part of his childhood innocence, James' mind began to sharpen again.
"These people are your family." He affirmed more than asked, scrutinising Ginny and trying to understand that side of his mother that he did not know about. "That lady visited me once when you were sick. And you called that man dad."
"Yes." Ginny responded eagerly to clear every boy's doubt. It was past time to do that. "They're Molly and Arthur, my parents. Your grandparents."
James swallowed new tears that threatened to well up and Ginny couldn't tell if they were from sadness or relief at knowing that he had really come from somewhere. Knowing he was someone.
Maybe a mix of both things.
"Geoffrey...?"
"George." Ginny corrected instinctively and saw when the green eyes looked hurt in a reaction she was not used to seeing. Even less used to being the cause of it. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to continue. "He's my brother, your uncle. Just like Ron and Bill - the one with the scars. There's also Percy and Charlie, who aren't here."
"Lots of people." James roughly scratched his head, as if he were trying to force the idea of having too many relatives into it.
"They're family." She tried to encourage him. "And friends."
James 'hmm'ed thoughtfully. "They don't like Mr. Malfoy."
Once again it had not been exactly a question, but Ginny forced herself to answer sincerely. "They don't."
"And they don't like me either."
Ginny was shocked and gently pushed the boy away so she could look completely at his sad face. "Where did you get that idea from, James?"
James thought a little before answering, but that didn't stop his voice from sounding weak, as if he was fighting with all his strength to not to cry anymore.
"I always asked you about our family and you never told me about them." James shrugged, as if that did not affect him to the core. "I thought they didn't want to meet me and you were just protecting me from them."
That hurt. And Ginny felt completely dirty.
James preferred to believe that he was detested by his real family – for no apparent reason – than to think that she had lied to him for some other reason.
In the mind of a seven-year-old child who had never had real and constant contact with pain and suffering before, nothing else would justify lying and isolation.
In James's mind, they had to hate him. Otherwise, his mother - his protector, his safe place in the world - would simply have taken away his identity, his interaction with those people, who he was.
But Ginny knew better.
"No!" She fumbled with the words. "I mean, yes I was protecting you. But not from them. I-"
How to explain that I was protecting him from what his father's death represented, both for the Resistance and for Voldemort, she thought, running a desperate hand through her hair. A death that hadn't even really happened.
"So why did you do that?" The question was literally broken, filled with anguish, anger, pain and confusion. It hurt Ginny more than a slap would. "Why?"
"Your dad..." Ginny said in a choked voice, knowing that every word she said from then on would push her son away from her. "I believed your dad was dead and I couldn't let you inherit his responsibilities, nor be hunted as a symbol of what he represented in life."
It wasn't a good way to talk to a child, she knew.
In those days that she learned that Harry was alive, she thought of several good ways to broach the subject with James, in a way that a seven-year-old boy could hear and understand.
None of them came to her mind at that moment.
"But I had a dad!" And the echoes of every question he had asked about his father, where he had come from, who their family was, came back to her like a flood of painful memories and lies.
The sentence was said with such ferocity that Aries shifted in his crib, uncomfortable with the noise that disturbed his sleep.
"You have a dad." Ginny stated after a second, when she made sure the baby was still asleep.
Of all things one could say about James of Woodcroft - now admittedly James William Weasley-Potter - none of them was that he was a slow boy or that he was insensitive to what was going on around him. So, even at that young age, it was not difficult to add two plus two.
And when he did, he pushed Ginny away sharply.
"He's here." He choked, trying to organise his thoughts. "My dad is here. That man, he- he was looking at me all the time and I thought it was strange because he looked like so much like me and, and -"
"He is." It was all that Ginny managed to elaborate without demonstrating the whirlwind of emotions she was feeling. "His name is Harry."
"And –and he never wanted to get to know me..."
"Until a few days ago, he wasn't aware of your existence."
"But you knew, mum." And that was the missing trigger for Ginny's own tears. "And you didn't say anything. Did you lie to him too?"
Too.
Too.
"No." Ginny replied in a weak voice, wiping away her tears. "I didn't know he was alive. I only met him again a few days ago and I was getting ready to tell you the truth."
"Now?" James whispered and Ginny noticed that this was the first time she had seen anything like sarcasm come out of her son's mouth.
At that moment, Ginny Weasley knew that all words would be useless. In that conversation, she had already been tried and condemned.
She did not regret what she had done at all. Given the conditions, she would have done it again and again, ensuring her survival and that of her firstborn.
But that didn't mean it would not hurt.
James's voice died and he did not say anything else. He did not push her away but neither did he make any attempt to get closer to her body. The hours of the night passed like that, and after a while she felt that the boy had fallen asleep.
And yet, far from her.
It was as if an invisible wall had been built between the two of them. And that was the deepest cut Ginny's heart had ever felt.
Unable to sleep or continue to feel that unpleasant tightness in her chest, Ginny gently untangled herself from James and left the room to clear her head, even though she knew that eventually they would have to have that conversation again.
She stood at the bedroom door for a few minutes, not knowing exactly what to do, where to go. Just as she was convincing herself to go inside and wait for the day to fully dawn, she saw a figure turning the corner and approaching absently.
Luna.
Ginny smiled brightly for the first time since she got there.
Luna was slightly startled when she noticed Ginny standing in the bedroom doorway at that time, but did not hesitate to get closer. Words weren't really necessary between the two because, as soon as she was close enough, Ginny hugged her friend as tight as she could, allowing herself comfort in that small gesture.
When they broke apart, Luna was smiling dreamily. It was as if the years had not passed.
"First Harry comes back to us- and it was quite a scare, you bet. It took days for people to believe it. Now you... It's just like old times, don't you think?" Luna did not wait for Ginny to say anything and gave her friend's hand a comforting squeeze. "I'm so glad you're here, Ginny."
"Thank you, Luna. It means a lot to me." Ginny wanted to say the same, that she was glad to be there, but she could not. To divert the subject from both her and her friend's minds, she noticed that the other witch was completely dressed in everyday clothes. "What are you doing walking the halls at this hour?"
"We've always got someone patrolling the house and the surrounding area at night. I usually stay inside to prevent heliopaths from getting too close to where we sleep, even though Hermione says that such creatures don't exist."
"Of course." Ginny smiled and nodded as if that made perfect sense. And, in a way, it did. Hermione and Luna were two opposites and would hardly agree on most issues.
"Would you fancy a cup of tea so you can go back to sleep?" Luna looked closely at Ginny's dark circles under her eyes and her tired expression. "I can go to the kitchen and prepare some if you do." When Ginny gently shook her head, she added. "I keep my tea far from George's reach, if that's what's worrying you."
"It's not that." Ginny smiled, not knowing whether she should be more afraid of Luna's herbs or George's experiments on people's tea. "After tonight, I don't think countless litres of tea would be able to make me sleep peacefully."
"Oh," Luna exclaimed thoughtfully, staring at Ginny with wide blue eyes that seemed to contain an ancient's wisdom and frightening empathy. Ginny had forgotten how intimidating Luna could be sometimes, as if no secrets could be kept from her. "I can look after your children so you can have some time for yourself. You don't need to worry about the time, I usually help to look after the children, especially now that Fleur has a small baby. I can stay with them as long as necessary."
"How did you know-" Ginny started to ask, but then changed her mind.
That was Luna after all, she understood things that happened to people even before they realised there was something going on in the first place.
"Forget it..." Ginny simply preferred to smile again, reveling in her friend's presence.
Ginny thought about refusing the offer; she did not want to leave her children's side. However, at that moment, there were other urgent matters that she had to deal with personally.
"I appreciate it, dear. I'll be back as soon as I can." She nodded gratefully and hugged Luna goodbye. When she was already starting to walk away, she remembered one more thing and stopped halfway. "And Luna?"
"Yes?" Already by the door of the room, Luna turned to Ginny with her typical ethereal air.
"Thanks a lot." Ginny stressed the word.
"What for?" Luna frowned at Ginny's intonation.
Ginny shrugged, suddenly shy. "For not pressuring me or judging me for my situation with… with Draco."
Luna thought for a moment before answering.
"You know, one of the strongest memories I have of my mother – from just before she died – is her reassuring me when I came home upset because a neighbour kid had mocked me for being... different."
She commented thoughtfully, without making a judgment call about her 'difference', about the fact that Luna Lovegood would always be as eccentric as the sky was blue. And Ginny loved that in her friend.
"My mum told me that we often take paths that others don't think are appropriate or right. But that the beauty of life was precisely the fact that there is no such thing like a single path. And I think I agree with that."
And with that, Luna smiled once more, tucked her wand behind her ear, and walked into the room to take care of Ginny's children.
For a few seconds, Ginny simply stood there, watching the door Luna had disappeared through and absorbing those words.
Ultimately, she decided it was past time then to move forward on the path she had chosen.
Walking through the confusing hallways for the first time since arriving the night before, Ginny noticed that the place that was intended to house Bill and Fleur after their wedding had been converted into a coastal version of The Burrow.
Apparently over the years more and more rooms were added to house to accommodate all Resistance's members in need of help; the result of that was something monstrously large, disproportionate and with an appearance that would certainly make Draco have an architectural fit.
She smiled when imagining the scene, but in the next instant, the smile died on her lips.
Draco...
Where is he?, She needed to talk to him, understand what was happening, make things right.
Ginny wandered incessantly looking for the place where he could have spent the night, but everything was so confusing, so big and disorganised that she had to give up when daylight fully broke, heading towards the only place she had memorised with ease: the room where the Resistance's decisions were made and where she had been taken the night before.
It was a rather large room, filled with sofas of different sizes and colours, giving it an air of disorder that, somehow, made her feel a little more at home. She sat comfortably and just waited.
She sighed resignedly thinking about the contrast between the symmetry of Malfoy Manor and the chaotic order of her family's home, a contrast that essentially represented the very relationship between Draco and herself.
After waiting for a while in the place, everyone arrived little by little – her brothers, sisters-in-law, parents, friends, Harry, Narcissa –, all of them brought by curiosity, duty or longing, in a strange and painful combination of feelings. Ginny was sure that if she reached out her hand, she could touch the tension in the air.
When they were finally all together and the small talk had died, Molly tried to break the unpleasant atmosphere by addressing Narcissa.
"Narcissa, would you like something to drink? Or anything else we can do for you?"
"I don't want any drinks, thank you." Narcissa responded with her icy politeness. "But there's actually something I would like."
Molly waited patiently as Narcissa scanned everyone around her.
"I want to know where is my son and why is he not here, next to his mother and wife."
"Draco will join us soon." Arthur responded in his wife's behalf, trying to reassure Narcissa. "It's also in our best interest that we can clarify all points with your son."
Narcissa gave Arthur a cold, disbelieving look. Molly, in turn, turned her attention to her daughter in yet another attempt to create a kinder environment in the middle of a war. "Ginny, you didn't sleep in the room I prepared. If you need something…"
"I slept with James and Aries, I also don't need anything." Ginny smiled weakly, wanting – and failing – to say that she was feeling completely at home. Then she diverted the subject, remembering another point that was troubling her. "I mean, there's something: I need a way to communicate with Flynn, the guy who works with me in my shop, and the rest of the employees…" she bit her lip, feeling guilty. "They'll be in danger now, because of me."
"George anticipated this problem." Arthur adjusted his glasses, tired as if he had not slept all night. "In the early hours of the morning, he went to London to accompany Hermione and took the opportunity to stay there to resolve this issue. He'll try to hide these people, probably bringing them here."
Ginny nodded in relief, but then her curiosity kicked in.
"And why did Hermione go to London?"
She did not address the question to anyone in particular and it was Minerva McGonagall who answered. "That's why we called everyone here, in fact. Mrs. Weasley will soon be with us to tell us the reason for her trip to London herself."
And the formal treatment regarding Hermione did not sound strange, coming from the ex-teacher's mouth. Naturally, she was older and tired-looking, but she still had an aura of respect around her, with her stern expression never leaving her face.
"And Draco?" Undeterred, Ginny asked stubbornly and crossed her arms, hoping to start a war. "Why is it taking so long for him to be here?"
Harry crossed his arms in a similar attitude and just as he was about to open his mouth, Ron entered the room, bringing Draco still tied by the hands, both followed closely by Blaise Zabini.
Draco still had the same mocking cold look in his eyes and Ginny's stomach dropped because they no longer had that spark of... something else, of something she had grown used to seeing.
"Where's Aries?" Draco addressed Ginny directly, after measuring every other people present and ignoring them, except for his mother, to whom he lowered his head slightly in a bow when he laid his eyes on her.
"Luna is taking care of him, along with James and the other kids." Ginny replied, still trying to identify the reason for his cold behavior.
"You left my son with Loony Lovegood!?" Draco asked in disbelief and Ron tugged on the rope, making Malfoy stumble forward.
Ginny rolled her eyes, at Draco and her brother.
"The boy's going to be fine, Malfoy. He's half-Weasley, after all." Ron said slyly and Draco winced at the idea. "As for your well-being though, we can't be so sure."
"Not wanting to disrupt the family reunion, but considering it a duty for old time's sake." As he went to sit next to Narcissa, Blaise drew attention to himself before Draco could respond to Ron with any insult. "I'd like to leave as soon as possible, so…" Zabini waved his hand as if he were rushing things.
"First we need to know if it's safe to let you go or allow Malfoy to roam free." Harry spoke up for the first time. "To do this, we have to gather proof, evidence and-"
Draco straightened up. "Under no circumstances shall I be judged by you, Potter." He hissed venomously. "All you need to know is that I made a bloody Unbreakable Vow linking me to Ginevra's son and that prevents me from doing anything against you all, with the risk of harming myself if I did. If you prefer to keep me chained to the ugliest Weasley who ever set foot on earth, great! Better than facing the Dark Lord again."
"That's very hard to swallow, Malfoy." Bill intervened, his voice calm and clear as ever, before Ron could voice the darkest insults he could conjure. "We're not even sure why you made the vow."
"Does it matter, Weasley?" Draco turned to him, raising an eyebrow.
Ginny did not know whether to be thrilled or exasperated by the fact that Draco did not want to tell them that this was all her fault, that she had forced him into marriage and making the vow.
He was leaving to her the decision of telling everything, no matter how angry he was at her, at the situation.
Obviously, her brothers were already suspicious of the nature of the agreement between them from the conversation they had had months ago, when her family found out about the impending marriage. However, admitting this in front of her parents and friends was very difficult.
Ginny sighed, gathering courage. She owed Draco that.
She owed that to herself.
"He took the Unbreakable Vow because I blackmailed him." All eyes turned to her, not hiding their surprise. "I forced him to protect James, otherwise I'd give certain memories of Harry to You-Know-Who. Memories that could… compromise Draco and his family."
"The memories where I appeared…" Narcissa whispered, suddenly paler and looked at Ginny with a shocked expression. Finally she had understood everything.
"I don't remember anything like that." Harry looked confused and Ginny saw Draco roll his eyes, in a clear 'if the memories were with her, it's kind of obvious you wouldn't remember, right?'
He made a point of expressing the thought out loud. "And I suppose you won't even remember again. I destroyed all those memories."
They glared at each other fiercely once more.
"What right did you have to destroy something that wasn't yours?" Harry narrowed his eyes, extremely upset by the fact that Draco Malfoy had ended something that belonged to him.
"The very right of the blackmailed people." Draco replied in an insolent and petulant way. "Besides, they were memories that involved my mother. Therefore, for reasons of inheritance, I had the copyrights over them as well."
"Does anyone care to explain what was so important about these memories?" George scratched his missing ear, trying to follow the conversation.
"They were memories where Narcissa helped in the Battle of Hogwarts, saving Harry's life," Ginny felt it necessary to be explicit on this point. "And later, where she gave information about the Death Eaters, who served as the basis for the attack in the Battle of the Forbidden Forest. Harry must have taken out these memories to protect her and gave it to me, so they'd be safe."
The silence that filled the room was almost suffocating.
"Why was a marriage necessary, for Merlin's sake?" Molly exclaimed. She was pale and her husband put his hand on her arm to comfort her. "I'm sure Draco could have protected you without this extra complication."
"I-" Ginny stuttered, but her mother cut her off with a raised index finger.
"And don't think for a second I'd consider your attitude decent even if there weren't this wedding involved, young lady." Molly shook her head as if she couldn't believe it. "Blackmail!"
Ginny flinched at her mother's tone. "I didn't want only Draco's veiled protection. By being a Malfoy everyone would think twice before doing anything against me. I wanted... I needed-" She corrected herself more emphatically. "the absolute security that his name would bring, to me and my son."
"Not so absolute, as we discovered last night." Harry commented bitterly, looking up at the ceiling
Avoiding looking at her parents and the older members of the Order – Ginny couldn't deal with the utter disappointment and disapproval, not now – she focussed on Harry. She got up from the sofa and walked over to where Harry was, leaning against the wall.
All eyes followed her, including a grey pair, which increasingly took on a dark, almost leaden tone.
Ginny took Harry's hand gently - she owed it to him too - and, with her back turned, she didn't see how Draco's expression turned absolutely grim before returning to being inscrutable.
"You may not remember it, but it was your memories that protected me and your son."
Because they brought Draco into our lives, she thought, but preferred to keep the detail to herself.
"And Narcissa Malfoy was very important to us, Harry. She saved us all, at Hogwarts and in the Forbidden Forest."
Then finally Ginny looked at Narcissa, still holding Harry's hand.
"Thank you, Narcissa. And forgive me. I should've said this before. I'm sorry."
Harry then understood why that strange feeling about Narcissa Malfoy had been in the back of his mind ever since he woke up in Spain.
Harry and Narcissa stared at each other intensely, he trying to pull out some memory of the woman and she remembering everything she wanted to forget, the actions that led to Lucius Malfoy's death.
The silence that followed made Ginny feel compressed, pressed between the walls, the people, the incredulous stares. And what had hurt her the most, by the disappointment in Arthur Weasley's green eyes
"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what I call throwing stones living in a glass house." Draco scoffed, angrily permeating his words. "Hypocrisy at its finest."
Anger at her, anger at that affectionate gesture towards Potter. However, he did not look at Ginny – didn't look at their clasped hands, at what they represented – and preferred to look at her relatives.
"How do you all feel, having someone capable of this kind of thing in your family? Blackmail, manipulation, psychological violence... Can't you see who the real victim is?" He raised his wrists mockingly, as if to show the evidence of the inconsistency of the Weasley family. "And, ironically, I'm the one who's shackled."
Ginny flinched again at the venom-laden words, letting go of Harry's hand and unconsciously moving closer to Draco.
"Draco, that's quite enough." Narcissa interrupted him in her haughty voice before Ginny could say anything, then turned to Ron. "Release my son, will you? As you can already imagine, he has nowhere else to go so urgently."
Ron started to protest - even though he had loosened his grip on the rope at Narcissa's tone - when Hermione entered the room, a mess of brown hair and flowing cloak.
"Do as she says, Ron." Hermione said as she walked over to stand beside her husband. "Mrs. Malfoy is right. I just got back from a meeting with Percy. Indeed, Malfoy got the information about the Resistance a while ago and erased Percy's memory so no one would know."
"Did you undo my spell?" Draco asked Hermione with a note of wounded pride in his voice as he raised a dismissive eyebrow at her, disgust on his face.
"I can't believe you ever thought for a moment that she couldn't do it." Ron laughed mischievously and placed a proud kiss on his wife's forehead.
"It wasn't difficult, actually. I've dealt with worse before." Hermione disregarded her achievement distractedly and Draco frowned instantly. "But the important thing is that I was able to confirm that Malfoy knew where we were and didn't hand us over…" She left the implications of that fact in the air before completing with more vehemence. "Then I think we'd better get rid of those ropes, Ron. He was telling the truth."
"Did you really know where my family was and didn't tell me?" Ginny asked Draco, staring at him incredulously. She would make him look at her, even if she had to cast a spell on him.
"I'm not sure you realised it, Ginevra, but we weren't exactly confidents." Draco drawled in bored voice, looking somewhere over Ron's head.
"We're married." Ginny was beginning to lose her temper with that attitude when she realised, under their conditions, the fact that they were married did not help at all. "We were together." She completed shyly, wanting him to understand the extent of their relationship, once and for all.
Draco shrugged, finally looking at her. "We had an agreement. And it didn't include exchanging secrets."
"Why are you doing this?" Ginny whispered and her voice came out a little weaker than she had intended.
"Doing what? Telling the truth?" Draco snarled, hating the feeling of his heart racing. "Does the reality not live up to your expectations? Take advice from whom understands the matter, Ginevra: it rarely does."
Given the way Draco was treating their relationship in front of everyone, she could feel the atmosphere becoming less tense, as if one of the biggest problems for her family was having Draco Malfoy actually with her. Ginny couldn't believe so much stupidity, both from them and Draco.
"You're a twat, Draco Malfoy." She felt her temper rise and she dug her nails into her palms to avoid choking Draco in front of everyone.
"Tell me something new about your opinions." Draco sighed in annoyance.
I really am a twat for letting myself get to this point, he thought, remembering how she had hugged the bloody Scarhead, told him there would be no more sacrifices, held his hand so intimately, as if the years had not passed and they were still in the fucking Hogwarts' garden, grappling each other like two animals. And the memory of having glimpsed a scene like that between two of them hurt Draco for the first time, in a way it had not hurt at the time.
So he went on, backing to the point and ignoring Ginny's incipient protest.
"The thing is, thanks to your borrowed elf, the Dark Lord knows everything and..." He trailed off, looking away from Ginny. "There's something more."
"What is it this time?" Harry rolled his eyes and Ginny bit her lip, not liking the openly concerned expression on a face that traditionally showed nothing.
Draco took a deep breath before speaking. "There's a prophecy."
"There has always been a prophecy, Malfoy." Hermione noted as if she were explaining something very obvious.
"And yeah, you of all people should know it, since your father was arrested at the Ministry when he was after us, trying to kill us all." Ron added with a mix of curiosity and bitterness.
Obviously, Draco knew about the other prophecy. Because of it - his father's failure to obtain it - Draco was assigned (punished) to try to kill Dumbledore that night in the Astronomy Tower.
The night that had changed the lives of everyone present there and triggered a series of events that culminated in that strange current meeting between remnants of the Order of the Phoenix and a Death Eater, now with common goals.
"Another prophecy, Know-it-all." Draco grimaced in disgust and focussed on the present. "Apparently, one involving the fruits of Harry Potter and the Dark Lord."
"Fruits?" George questioned curiously. "In the sense of consequence?"
"Fruits in the sense of inheritance." Hermione turned pale at her own realisation, bringing her hand thoughtfully to her mouth, already understanding what Draco was getting at.
Draco nodded. "For a long time, the Dark Lord understood the Resistance as his main target. All his orders and desires aimed the total and complete extermination of the rebels. And also for a long time I didn't understand the reason for that obsession. After all, all these years you were in a clear disadvantage."
A 'thanks to me' was implicit in the sentence, but everyone managed to understand it clearly as if they had actually heard it from Draco's mouth.
"Cut the rubbish, Malfoy." Ron growled in annoyance. "And just say what you have to say."
"You-Know-Who made a mistake." Blaise understood, as did Hermione, speaking more to himself than to the others.
Draco looked grateful at his friend for not letting the Mudblood be the only one with a bit of reasoning in that room.
"The prophecy referred to Potter's son," And to Ginevra, Draco thought and swallowed hard. "The fruit of the Scarhead – as well as everything that carried it – would be cursed to the Dark Lord, the reciprocal being also true."
"And what is the fruit of You-Know-Who?" Ginny asked, thinking out loud, an incipient dread starting forming in her gut.
Even though the question hadn't been addressed to anyone in particular, Blaise answered introspectively.
"Honestly, this is one of the few things that terrifies me to know." He murmured, creating in his head a thousand scenes of Voldemort generating any fruit and dismissing it with a slight grimace.
"Horcruxes." That was all Harry said and, for some, it made perfect sense.
For Draco, however, the observation could not be less interesting. What counted was the importance of James, Ginevra and, Salazar forbid it, even of Aries to the Dark Lord. And what he would do to put his hideous hands on them. And in Potter.
There was still Potter...
Taking a breath, Draco took advantage of the momentary silence and told them about his conversation with Voldemort and how the Dark Lord had cornered him to discover the truth.
When it ended, everyone, without exception, was in shock. Molly Weasley had to lean her plump body against the sofa and Ginny felt her head spin and grow paler.
Not my son, please no, she thought frantically.
"So, in order to escape, I had to open my mind to him. I only managed to hide the location of the Resistance." Draco looked directly at Harry, like a warning, a threat. "And now he knows about you too."
Harry simply nodded, as if he was prepared for whatever came.
In the next instant, Arthur Weasley went to where Ron was and freed Draco from the conjured rope with a flick of his wand.
"Enough of this. Now, more than ever, we need all the help we can get." He took Draco's wand from the inside pocket of his robe and offered it to his son-in-law. "For us here, it doesn't matter where things come from, but how good they do us."
And for Draco, as for everyone else, the message was clearly a half-warning, half-gesture of peace.
If you're going through hell ... that's all Draco thought of when he held his wand tight and prepared to be the black sheep among the Weasleys. Keep going.