Chapter Two.

Draco stopped when he reached an old gate, the paint was peeling off and it looked like it would fall apart at any moment. Typical, he sneered. He just didn’t understand how some people could live like that; he had always had the best of things and couldn’t imagine anything else. Well I have enough money, why shouldn’t I spend it? He hesitated before pushing open the gate, what if he caught some unknown disease from touching that filth? He looked up and saw the house for the first time in what seemed like years, even though it had only been about 7 months ago. He had thought back then that he’d never have to come here again, but that was… before all this had happened. The house was falling apart in places and it looked like it was held up with magic, which it probably was. Draco began making his way across the garden to the front door but before he had made it half way he tripped over a stray chicken.

“Bloody chicken!” he hissed, not wanting to make his presence know. Give them a shock, he smirked.

When he reached the door he paused. How am I supposed to break the news to them? Their only daughter is dead and they have a grandchild they never knew about. He breathed in and smelt Ginny’s scent in the air. How is that possible? She’s dead, he wondered but then realised that this was where she grew up and so obviously she would smell partly of that. He looked down at his sleeping daughter and wondered whether this was the right thing to do. It’s not like they’ll miss her, they have enough grandchildren as it is, and if they were so bothered about Ginny why didn’t they come to her wedding, and why did they never come to visit, or bother to keep in touch at all? He suddenly became angry; she had woken up on numerous occasions in tears, wondering what she had done to make them so angry.

“Draco, what have I done? Will they ever forgive me?” she sobbed into his chest, as he held her as though he’d never let go.

With an aching feeling inside him, he raised his hand and knocked on the door, waiting for whatever horror was coming next. He turned around to take in his surroundings, thinking that if he did that he would possibly feel closer to Ginny. As he turned back to face the door, he felt a fist make contact with his jaw.

“WHERE THE BLOODY HELL IS MY SISTER, MALFOY?”

Draco groaned, it was just his bloody luck that the first Weasel he happened to face was Ginny’s youngest brother, Ron.

“Watch it Weasel. You wouldn’t want to hurt family would you?” he said in usual drawling voice.

“You ain’t family.” Ron snapped.

“Something that I’m extremely grateful for. Now if you don’t mind it is rather cold out here and I would like to talk with the rest of the family, it is important and concerns your sister. I’m not sure you are going to like it though…” he trailed off, willing the tears to stay away. He then barged past Ron and into the hallway.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW YOU BLOODY FERRET. WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO BARGE IN HERE, GO GET GINNY AND PISS OFF BACK WHERE YOU BELONG!” Ron bellowed, his face turning red to match his flaming hair.

“RONALD WEASLEY, WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT USING LANGUAGE LIKE THAT IN MY HOUSE!” came a loud voice as Molly Weasley stepped into the hallway, “DON’T THINK THAT BECAUSE YOU HAVE A FAMILY OF YOUR OWN NOW THAT I CAN’T SMACK YOU ACROSS THE BOTTOM WITH MY WAND!”

She stopped when she realised just who Ron had been yelling at. There he was, the young man who had stolen her only daughters heart and taken her away from her. He was the reason that her daughter was living away at home and had not been in contact for months, he was the reason her daughter was now a Malfoy, a member of a family they had been enemies with for years. However much she hated him though, treating him badly would not get her daughter back, which is all that mattered right now.

“Mr. Malfoy, do come and sit down,” she pointed to the living room, “Make yourself comfortable. Would you like a cup of tea, coffee, hot chocolate?”

“Thank-you Mrs. Weasley, a cup of tea would be most welcome.” He said, before turning and sitting himself down in an armchair by the fire.

He hadn’t realised how cold he was until he sat down and was overwhelmed by the heat of the roaring fire. He looked around only to see hundreds of family photos. He found one of a 16 year old Ginny, in her bathing suit out by the lake. He picked it up and took it back to the chair which he had vacated when he saw the photo. Her photo self was blushing and trying to cover herself up, before giving up and jumping into the lake to hide. His eyes started to go misty and he furiously rubbed them. He was a Malfoy for crying out loud, Malfoy’s never cried, especially not in the company of Weasley’s. Well actually, he thought, Malfoy’s would never even be in the company of Weasley’s in the first place.

“Right, what the hell are you doing here and where is my little sister?” demanded Ron as he marched into the room and plonked himself down on the sofa. “And I want the truth.”

“I’d rather wait until everyone is here first, there’s something you should all know.”

“You haven’t got her knocked up have you?” the look on Ron’s face was a mixture of fury and shock.

Draco chuckled to himself, Ron obviously had no more brains than he had back in his Hogwarts days, he hadn’t noticed the bundle cradled in his arms. Really it’s amazing how he even made it to be an Auror. Obviously you don’t need brains anymore to be one.

“Now, Mr. Malfoy, here is your tea and the rest of the family should be along any minute now.” Molly had entered the room again.

“Please, call me Draco. Mr. Malfoy makes me feel old and I am your son in law so you don’t need to be so formal.” He took the steaming cup as he muttered a small thank you.

“Now, Draco, please tell me where my daughter is, it just seems wrong how she isn’t here and you are.” Mrs Weasley paused for a moment, “Oh god, she doesn’t hate me does she?”

“No, she doesn’t hate you; she thinks the world of you, Mrs. Weasley, she is unable to be here right now and I had to come and inform you of something important, although it is something I’d rather not be saying.”

“Is she sick? Is she hurt? OMG she’s hurt and in pain and you left her all on her own, how could you?” she was beginning to panic and yell, but stopped when she saw the sad look on his face, an emotion she’d never seen before, a mixture of sadness, loss and hatred. She jumped when she heard the door open and the remaining four of her sons and her husband walk in. She felt a tear prickle her eye when she thought about Percy; he had never made up with the family and still refused to keep in touch, although that Christmas day back six years ago probably had something to do with that. “Now then, everyone’s here now, so please tell us what you came to say.”

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his chair, everyone had their eyes focused on him and most of them looked like they’d gladly kill him on the spot at this very moment.

“Well… uhm… I’m not really sure how to tell you this, but it’s about Ginny.”

“What about my little sister?” snapped Fred (or was it George?)

“Because if you have done anything to hurt her…” continued George (or maybe Fred.)

“We swear that we will.”

“Tie you up and…”

“Hang you from the ceiling by your private parts.” They finished together.

Draco winced, he was not looking forward to that, if they carried out their threat, he was pretty sure they would as well.

“Well it’s bad…” he was interrupted by a wail coming from the bundle in his arms. Looks of confusion spread across the Weasley’s faces. “But first let me introduce you to your granddaughter.” He pulled off the blanket to reveal a tiny little baby with a few red curls on the top of her head, the biggest chocolate brown eyes imaginable and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. He gently started to rock her, while holding her close to his chest.

“Oh my,” whispered Molly, “She looks just like Ginny did when she was a baby.”

Draco looked down and silently agreed, she certainly did look like her mother. When she had first been born he was slightly pissed off, firstly that she wasn’t a boy, secondly she had the hideous Weasley hair (although he had to admit he loved Ginny’s hair, it wasn’t bright orange like the rest of them, but a deep blood red) and thirdly, she looked nothing like a Malfoy. He was kind of glad of that now, now he would see Ginny live in the form of their daughter.

“What’s the little darling’s name?” asked Molly. “Can I hold her?”

“I haven’t decided on a name yet, and I’d rather I kept hold of her for now, she’s not used to people she hasn’t seen before and she had a sleepless night and I don’t want her screaming for hours again.” The truth was he didn’t want to let go, he was scared of losing her as well. Besides she had rather a tight grip on his little finger at the moment and had fallen back to sleep.

“What’s all this I business Malfoy, doesn’t Ginny get a say in this now? Where is she by the way? You have to tell us now because everyone is here. And I swear if you’ve laid one single finger on her I will kill you, right here, right now. GET HER HERE NOW!” exploded Ron.

Draco sighed and took a deep breath; he couldn’t put it off for any longer. “I can’t get her here right now… she’s dead.” And with that, the tears began to flow.

Chapter Three.

After what seemed like hours of persuasion from Mrs. Weasley, Draco has unwillingly left his daughter with her while he went to visit the mortuary where Ginny was lying. His footsteps echoed around the room and he shivered. It was so… well creepy and that was saying something. Draco had spent most of his childhood locked in the dungeons at Malfoy Manor as a punishment for being too weak. It was supposed to toughen him up and prepare him for later in life. It was one of many things that had happened for that purpose, crucio being another. He began to make his way to the other end of the room, walking slowly to delay the sight which he was about to see.

There she was in front of him, lying on her back in the expensive coffin, her hands rested across her stomach. Her blood red hair was sprayed around her head looking like a halo. His angel. Her pale skin still had all the freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. She looked peaceful, and he supposed she was. She was no longer living a life of pain, this war was still far from over, and it made it even worse that her family had as good as disowned her. If Potter had killed Voldemort at the battle at the end of his seventh year which he had spent hunting down the horcruxes with his best friends, Ron Weasley, Ginny’s youngest brother and that Mudblood Granger, then Ginny wouldn’t be dead now and they’d be happily living at home and taking care of their baby daughter, together. Well, it probably wouldn’t have been like that. Their marriage hadn’t been true. He had only married her because he knocked her up and it seemed like the right and proper thing to do. He had completely forgotten how fertile those damn Weasleys were, he had been caught up in the moment and who could blame him? She was beautiful, a Weasley, but she was still beautiful. She had been drunk and Draco had never been one to turn down a shag when it was right there in front of him. Over the months though, he had learned to tolerate her and even began to enjoy her company.

He took a seat by her side and held her hand in his. If he didn’t know any better he would have said that it was slightly warm, it was still cold and stiff but it had a small warmth to it. Stop it Draco, he scalded himself, she’s dead so therefore her hands would be cold. Stop trying to fool yourself and pull yourself together! He took a deep breath. This was something he had to do, something he should have done while she was still alive but now was better than never. She was probably looking down on him from heaven, probably having a good laugh at his expense.

“Look Gin, I know you are dead and everything and I know that it’s my fault but I just want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the shit I put you through at school, all those remarks about your family and how poor you were. I’m sorry I used to tease you about your hair and your freckles. I’m not sorry about all that crap I put Potter through, or Granger. Well some of it maybe, but a lot of it they deserved. I’m sorry about everything I’ve put you through these last 9 months or so.” He stopped for a moment to think.

“Remember that night 9 and half months ago in that club in Diagon Alley? It was your 18th birthday if I remember rightly, the 11th August 1999. You were out with your friends having a good time and it was when I saw you that I realised that you weren’t the little girl I remembered from Hogwarts, you had grown up into a young woman and you were beautiful.”

“Hey Ginny, come on and dance with us!” he heard someone yell above the racket the music was making. Ginny… now where had he heard that name before? It was certainly familiar. It was then he noticed the flash of red hair as he saw someone being dragged into the crowd that was on the dance floor. Ah that’s right, he thought with a smirk, the littlest Weasley was called Ginny, the Weaselette as he had so kindly nicknamed her. Well tonight should be fun, no doubt the Golden Trio would be here if she was. He decided to make his way into the crowd to see if he could get close enough to her to taunt her again.

“No guys, seriously I’m fine, I just want to sit down for a bit and have another drink.” Ginny was protesting and finally won her battle and as she turned to make her way back to where she had been sitting before she was dragged off she collided with something hard. She looked up to see who she had bumped into and her chocolate brown eyes met with those of a steal grey colour.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Weaselette.” He drawled.

“Shove it, Malfoy!” she spat.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say is it? And not terribly original either.”

“Well you aren’t a very nice person, and anyway what you said wasn’t original either. You’ve been using the insult Weaselette for years now. Can’t you come up with anything new?” she snapped back.

“No need to snap.” He said, “I only wanted to see if you wanted to have a dance with me.”

She looked at him suspiciously. Sure he wasn’t a Death Eater, and had turned to get protection from the light side after his failure to kill Dumbledore, but that didn’t mean he could be trusted. How did she know he wasn’t secretly working for Voldemort as Snape had done? How did she know he wouldn’t appararate her out of the club and take her to Voldemort? He still hadn’t been defeated and most of the Wizarding World was still too scared to leave their homes in fear of being killed or captured. ‘Oh well’ she thought to herself, ‘if he wanted to take me to Voldemort he could grab me anyway. It’s my birthday, why shouldn’t I have a bit of fun? It was better than being stuck at home with her family, Harry and Hermione. Harry was still injured from the latest battle against Voldemort and Ron and Hermione were being all serious and the rest of her family were always out doing missions for the Order. She sighed; she had had to grow up so fast these past 7 years. Starting with the Chamber of Secrets when she had been 11, then the Department of Mysteries battle she had been in with Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna, then there was the battle at the end of her 5th year a year later. The night Snape murdered Dumbledore, and the night her eldest brother Bill had been bitten by a werewolf. Luckily the werewolf hadn’t been in wolf form so Bill hadn’t been affected too badly. He and Fleur had been married a few months later. She looked up into Draco’s eyes again. “Fine, one dance but that’s it!”

He smirked. She had given in too easily and he had been hoping for a challenge. But who could blame her for wanting to dance with him? He was most girls’ idea of Prince Charming after all. He took her hand, noticing how well it fit in his, and led her to the middle of the dance floor. He placed his arms around her waist and she placed her arms around his neck, he pulled her as close to him as possible and started to dance to the rhythm of the pounding music. He could sense the nervousness of her and smirked again.

“Nervous are we?”

“Shut your face.” She snapped and with that she began to loosen up just to prove that she was not nervous of some stupid ferret. Truth was, she was scared of enjoying herself too much, after all this was Malfoy and she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she was enjoying his company.

They stayed in that position for the next few songs. Neither of them wanting to move and break the dance first.

“Erm Malfoy?” Ginny started as she removed her arms from around his neck, “I need a drink, can you let me go.”

He pulled her closer to him and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I think I’ll come with you, I never knew you were such a good dancer, Weaselette.” He was pleased when he saw her cheeks turn as red as her hair, his breath tickling her ear and making her feel uncomfortable. He released her and then took her by the hand again and led her towards the bar.

“What drink would you like?” he asked.

“I can buy my own, thanks. I’m not poor enough to not be able to afford a drink you know!”

“I wasn’t suggesting that you were. However I am a gentleman and the gentleman always buys the lady a drink.” He said slowly, as though he was explaining something simple to a 5 year old.

“Gentleman, my ass.” She snorted, “But I’ll just have a vodka and coke.”

“Muggle drink?” he asked, surprised. He knew her family were a bunch of muggle lovers, especially that father of hers, but he would have never have thought she would know about muggle drinks.

“Yes, anything wrong with that?”

“No, not at all.” He figured he could have some fun with her tonight, as he knew that vodka was a strong drink. All he needed to do was keep buying her drinks and then ta-da she’d fall into bed with him and tomorrow not only would she have a dreadful hangover but she’d also have the shock of her life when she woke up next to him. Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin Sex God. Sure he had left Hogwarts just over a year ago but that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep his title. He rather liked it. He noticed that her eyes were travelling up and down his body. Checking him out, he supposed. In actual fact she was trying to work out why he was being almost civil to her when before he wouldn’t have gone near him with a bargepole.

“Like what you see?” he smirked.

Ginny blushed and turned away. She got embarrassed easily and he had just caught her staring at him. She wasn’t looking at him like that but it was still embarrassing. Her thoughts were interrupted when her friend Luna came up to her, her long dirty blonde hair all over the place from the dancing, she was wearing a silver dress,her trademark radish earrings and her necklace made from butterbeer corks. Her large pale blue eyes were filled with concern.

“Ginny are you ok? Has Malfoy done something to you?” she turned and glared at him.

“No, I’m fine, honest.” She smiled.

“Oh it must be a distant cousin of the Nargle species, the Elgrans. They thrive in clubs where it’s humid and they can travel up people’s noses when they are dancing. They are becoming quite a nuisance actually…”

Draco coughed loudly, he didn’t want to have to sit here and listen to Looney Luna Lovegood chattering about the latest nonsense magical creature her father had found on his travels. Merlin, you’d think that at the age of 18 she would have some sense.

“Anyway Ginny, I must be getting home; I have to be up early tomorrow to finish my latest report for the Quibbler.” She gave her friend a quick hug and aparated with a loud POP. Luna had gotten a job on her father’s paper when she left Hogwarts and she loved every minute of it.

“Do you want another drink then?” Draco asked, pointing at the empty glass she held in her hand.

“Yeh, go on then.” She replied as she held out her glass. It was her birthday, why the hell shouldn’t she have fun? After all it wasn’t everyday you turned 18.

A few hours later and she was completely wasted, she had had more than enough to drink and she was now relying on Draco to hold her up. He was not drunk. Malfoys knew how to handle their drink and wouldn’t dream of getting into that state, especially in a crowded public place where anyone could see and where there were certainly a few photographers around. He certainly didn’t need a photo of himself in tomorrow's Daily Prophet totally smashed.

“Draco, come here and give me a big shloppy kisssss.” She slurred, swaying as she attempted to make her way over to him, arms wide apart and her lips puckered up. She really was a sight. He rolled his eyes and grabbed her arm.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to the Manor.” He whispered as he aparated her to Malfoy Manor.

She sat down on his king sized bed and bounced slightly. She fingered the silk sheets in wonder; she had never been the same room as material of that quality before. She looked around his room, it was the size of the whole of the bottom floor of her house put together and was decorated in Slytherin colours, green and silver. Some things never change, she thought to herself. The travelling had sobered her up a bit and was not quite as drunk as she had been before. Draco entered the room wearing just his pyjama bottoms, a rich green colour, and she nearly fainted. His body was like that of a god, years of playing Quidditch had certainly done his body a world of good.

He sat down next to her; this should be fun, bedding the youngest Weasley and then getting to rub that in Saint Potters face. Back in Hogwarts she had been the president of the Harry Potter Fan club and although she had grown up and said that she thought of him as a brother and nothing more, he knew she still had feelings for him. They had gone out in her 5th year and she was said to have been devastated when he broke up with her at Dumbledore’s funeral.

He reached out and tilted her head up so that she was staring into his eyes and then he leant forward and pressed his lips to hers. She was taken by surprise and instead of pulling away like she normally would have done she found herself deepening the kiss. She was bubbling inside; she had never felt this way when kissing anyone else. Not Michael Corner, Dean Thomas or even the-boy-who-lived Harry Potter himself. This was wrong, and she knew it, but she could not bring herself to break the connection between them. Draco was the one who broke the kiss, coming up for air. He was surprised, he had no idea she was such a good kisser. Suddenly he realised that tonight would be even better.

“Remember our first kiss, Gin? And the night that followed. Considering we hated each other it wasn’t half bad, in fact it was brilliant. I’d never felt that way with anyone before and it left me feeling so confused. I was the same person that I had ever been but there was something else inside of me. I was horrified that a Weasley had made me feel that way. Why couldn’t it have been Parkinson? Well actually I’m quite glad, can you imagine what my life would have been like if I had done what my father wanted and married her? My mother was glad of course, she had always hated Pansy and didn’t think that she was good enough for her only son. Mother liked you, you know. My father hated you, but then when has my father ever seen anything that he didn’t want to see. It was because of him that I was set the mission to kill Dumbledore…” He trailed off and glanced at Ginny again.

“I’ll never forget that night, 9 months 2 weeks and 3 days ago and I won’t forget what happened the morning after either!” he let out a quiet chuckle.

Draco was awoken by a shrill scream the next morning.

“You stupid fucking ferret, what the hell did you do to me?” Ginny was screaming.

“Excuse me?” he asked before he was smacked in the face with her pillow.

“You know full well what you did; you got me drunk and brought me back to your place. I WILL NOT BE USED AS A WHORE! You disgust me, you really do. You took advantage of me and I have a good mind to go and report you!” her face was rapidly becoming so red she resembled a tomato. She got up and started to look for hard objects to chuck at him.

“You were the one that wanted it. You didn’t exactly say no, did you? I believe your exact words were ‘Draco please don’t stop’.” He said as he examined his immaculate fingernails. He ducked as an expensive vase headed towards his face.

“I had no idea what I was doing and you should have stopped it before it went any further!” she yelled before picking up an ornament which smashed against the wall. “You make me so mad Draco Malfoy.”

With that she stormed out of the room and ran down the stairs which led to the front door which she ran out of all the time muttering things like ‘bloody ferret’. He smirked again and thought to himself ‘that went well.’

“I thought that was the last I’d ever see of you and I didn’t give you another thought until I received your letter on the 13th September. That bloody owl of yours pecked my hands to pieces. My world came crashing down when I heard your news, I was so shocked and ashamed of myself for the mess I had gotten myself into. I was going to walk away and forget about everything, maybe go to the South of France for a while. I could have just walked away if I wanted to, and I’m still not sure why I didn’t. It would have made everything so much more simple.” He paused and lost himself in the memory, as though it had been yesterday.

It was a rainy morning in the middle of September and Draco was bad tempered, his father wanted him to meet with the Dark Lord again, to receive the Dark Mark. Something he didn’t want and had been spending all his time trying desperately to put it off. He didn’t want to follow some half-blood idiot, especially after what had happened in his 6th year. He was still surprised that after Snape had killed Dumbledore, he was still alive along with his mother and father. Voldemort was angry and had still Crucioed him for failing but as Dumbledore was dead he couldn’t really complain. He just decided that it would be best if Draco didn’t receive the mark straightaway. After all he could still be useful in other ways. Draco saw this as a blessing. Of course he couldn’t stand Dumbledore and wasn’t really fussed that he was dead but he just could not kill the old fool. Not that he’d ever admit that to himself or anyone else.

He looked out of the window and saw a small shape against the sky and as it got closer he recognised it to be an owl, a tiny owl. Who would be writing to him with an owl like that? He opened the owl to let it in and as it soared in through the window it immediately began to peck at his fingers as he attempted to get the letter untied. He opened the letter and once he had read it he dropped it in shock.

Malfoy.

I have something to tell you which you are not going to like. I don’t like it either but there’s nothing I can do about it. Do you remember that night back in August? Well I’m pregnant. I don’t expect you to hang around or have anything to do with the baby; I just thought it would be right to tell you. Just so you know and don’t turn up in 5 years time demanding to know why I never told you.

Ginevra Weasley.

Damn it. Why did he not remember about the Weasley’s being able to breed like a bunch of rabbits? He smacked his head, what should he do now? He couldn’t exactly leave her as much as he wanted to. This might be his only chance for an heir. The choices were basically nearly inexistent if he wanted a pureblood heir. He could always go to Pansy for one, he supposed, but if he did what kind of a messed up life would the kid have? At least the Weaselette was pretty and pretty intelligent, top of her year. Whereas Pansy had a face like a pug, the most annoying personality ever and she also had the intelligence of a goldfish. He sighed and flopped down into his chair behind his desk. There was only one thing to do and he was not happy about it at all.

“Anyway Gin, I’ll be back tomorrow. I have to go and see what your family has done to her daughter. Yes I Draco Malfoy went to your home and survived. It was pretty shaky for a bit, especially after I told them that you were dead. Your mother collapsed in tears and begged me to let her grandchild stay with her for the afternoon. Mortuaries are no places for babies. You should see her Gin, she’s beautiful, and she looks just like you. She has the red hair, freckles and large chocolate brown eyes. She is the spitting image of you and she’s the thing that is keeping me going at the moment because I know you live in her. There are some things I need to tell you still, but those things can wait for another day. I’ll bring our daughter as well, I still don’t know what to call her, nothing seems special enough and you never got to name her before you were taken away from this life. I am thinking of having her middle name as Ginevra, after her mother.” With that he stood up and leant over to place a kiss on her forehead and left the room.