Get Through This

Summer 2005
The Burrow
Ottery St. Catchpole

Ginny wasn't quite sure how it had all happened. It had started out simply enough. She'd finally made the decision to move out of the Burrow since not only had she recovered fully from the career-ending Quidditch injury (or so she told herself), but she'd been offered a job by the International Association of Quidditch. Ginny hadn't wanted her nervousness to show. And she was nervous, even more so than before her first professional game. She was a Chaser, not a coach. Hassan Mostafa himself had tracked her down and made her an offer she would have been stupid to refuse. Housing, a large paycheck, and the chance to be a part of a new program that would bring Quidditch to the rural areas of South Africa. That wasn't even factoring in the chance to travel.

She was twenty four-years old, for Merlin's sake. She deserved this. Her time with the Harpies had been liberating and now she was, somewhat guiltily, feeling stifled. It was past time for her to step away from her parents and most of her brothers. Charlie, Bill, and the twins had all sided with Ginny. Ron had objected more out of frustration over Ginny and Harry's failed relationship than brotherly disapproval. Hermione had launched into a long-winded explanation of South Africa, the major Wizarding settlements, and so much more that Ginny had tuned her out in self-preservation.

That had been a month ago. Her Dad was calling it 'the incident' in hushed tones whenever her mum wasn't near by. He approved, though there was no conversation or even a nod of approval. Ginny didn't need one, she could see the pride he had for her as clearly as she would have had he taken out a full page advert in The Prophet.

She was packing the last bit of her belongings -which were to be transported by the Association- and had already said her goodbyes. Her Portkey was due to activate in just under fifteen minutes and her stomach was rebelling. It wasn't that she thought she wouldn't be able to teach or that the Translation Charms wouldn't work properly, it was just that this was the furthest she had ever been from home without at least one family member at her side. One of her brothers had attended every one of her games no matter if they were in Japan or Canada; Bill had even tagged along when there had been an exhibition game in Siberia.

With a deep breath, she closed and warded the trunk before Levitating it down to the kitchen where the rest of her belongings were stacked. Three years at a minimum, Mostafa had said. Three years of only quick Portkeys home when she could spare the time. It would be an enormous adjustment. She could and would do this- if only to prove to herself that she could.

"Ginny, dear, are you sure about this?" Molly asked.

With a bright (if completely false) smile, Ginny turned to face her mum.

"I am," she said, not realizing just how much she meant it until she was enveloped in a fierce, albeit uncomfortably tight, hug.

"Owl, Floo, anything," Molly stressed, sniffling and glancing from Ginny to the grandfather clock and back again, wringing the dusting cloth in her hands. "I'll be watching the clock, dearest. The moment it says anything remotely dangerous-"

Ginny laughed, cutting off the tirade she could recite from memory. "I know, Mum. I'll have one of the boys at my side as soon as you can manage it- fully prepared to bring me home." It won't be necessary, she added silently. I will succeed if it's the last thing I do.

With that thought weighing heavily in her mind, she stepped back gripping the Portkey and whirled away.

--**

Fall 2006
Roggeveld Mountains: just outside Sutherland, South Africa

"Fuck all!"

Ginny looked up from the large stack of paperwork and laughed at the loud loud complaint.

"It could be snowing," she reminded him teasingly. "You offered your patronage with the provision that you travel around and see the program in action, didn't you?"

Had anyone told her a year and a half ago when she'd packed up and left Britain for South Africa that she'd been in a dingy, temporary office in the Roggeveld Mountains teasing Blaise Zabini, she would have laughed aloud and then proclaimed them totally and utterly insane. But here she was doing just that. Much to her initial shock, Blaise wasn't that bad of a bloke. Neither was his partner in mischief, Draco Malfoy. The two former Slytherins just so happened to be the program's two biggest (and only) private patrons. Her only warning had been a quick owl seven months ago from Mostafa that said 'Benefactors arriving. Be nice or program will end.' She and Blaise had come to an accord quickly while Draco seemed to enjoy provoking her temper. They hadn't offered up a reason for their sudden appearance and Ginny hadn't asked. Theirs was a tentative peace, one she didn't want to break- if only for the children's sake. The men showed no sign of leaving any time soon either. Both were surprisingly patient with the children on the pitch and she often wondered if that was the reason they hadn't left as of yet.

Blaise glared hard, rubbing his arms through his jet black winter coat. "It's as cold as Hogwarts in the winter out there."

Ginny snorted, rolling her eyes and picking up her quill. She knew well enough by now that both men would complain until they were blue in the face or until she hexed them, whichever came first. With her recent promotion the constant state of nervousness that she'd thought she was rid of months ago had come back full force. Most of the coaching team had quit within the first three months. Some citing the small funding for uniforms and equipment, others the weather, and one outright admitted that the culture baffled her. Ginny, always thinking back on the promise she'd made the day she left the Burrow, had done her utmost to adjust and become comfortable in her 'new home'. At night, when everything was quiet and peaceful, she allowed herself to dream of staying in South Africa - of building a life for herself that wasn't influenced by her last name, that she'd dated The-Boy-Who-Lived, or even her injury.

She ignored Blaise's grumbling and slowly, meticulously worked through the stack of paperwork, stopping to flex her left arm as it tended to stiffen up when she overused it. The paperwork had to be perfect or the Association would shut down the program. The children had captured Ginny's heart the first week she'd been in country. They were so curious, hard-working, and down-right adorable in their enthusiasm for the game. Most lived in orphanages or walked two hours or more to the practices. Having grown up nearly as poor, Ginny understood the need for distraction. Her mum had taken to sending large care packages full of sweaters, blankets, hats, mittens, and anything else she could think of when Ginny had informed her of the living conditions. That wasn't to say that there weren't well-to-do families, because there were. Most lived in Johannesburg, Kimberley, and Cape Town. The program concentrated on the outlying areas- the poorer areas.

"Dammit to hell and back."

"And here's Draco," Ginny muttered, desperately trying to hold her snickers in.

Her amusement died when a large piece of parchment was thrust under her nose.

"What's this?" she asked, taking the parchment from him, looking up at the livid blond, her brows rising when he turned on his heel and stormed back out of the office rather than replying.

Blaise took it from her, scanned it, and cussed creatively in three languages before tossing the parchment on her desk and rushing after his best mate.

"ZABINI! BLAISE!" Ginny yelled, hoping to stop him long enough to find out was going on. It wasn't proper for her to read the letter as it wasn't hers. She sat there in the silent office attempting to convince herself that neither of them would care if she read it. That had obviously been Draco's intention originally. She lasted perhaps two minutes before she snatched it up.

Draco,
I hesitate to inform you of your father's plans, but I felt you should know. He's decided that you've not fulfilled your duties as the Malfoy heir. You have six months to marry or he'll call you home to marry the witch he's chosen for you. He appreciates the good publicity your 'little whim' had brought the Malfoy name. That being said, trekking about Africa isn't acceptable any longer. I will remind you that until your twenty-seventh birthday, or until you marry, he has control over every last Galleon. I will support your decision either way, my son.
Love,
Mother

Ginny re-read the letter three times, just to be sure she hadn't misread it. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she nearly hissed, getting to her feet and tucking the letter into her trouser pocket. Was this the reason he and Blaise had shown up and been so uncharacteristically altruistic? She was well acquainted with what a bastard Lucius Malfoy could be, but she'd never have thought that such behaviour would extend to his son. She bundled up in deference to the frigid weather and followed after both men. Maybe, just maybe there was a way out of this. It didn't sit right with her that anyone, even Draco Malfoy, would be forced into something as life altering as an arranged marriage.

She hurried across the village to the cottage that the three of them shared and called out once she had secured the door. "Where are you two?"

"In the parlour, getting plastered," Blaise replied dryly. "Come to share in the misery?"

She shed her cloak, hanging it on the pegs just inside the front door, and stepped into the parlour. Draco was sprawled across the sofa with one arm over his eyes and the other gripping a half empty bottle of Firewhisky. Blaise wasn't much better, though it looked as if he was sticking with wine.

"There's no way around it then?"

Draco sneered, drinking straight from the bottle.

"Getting drunk won't help," she offered, curling up in the chair closest to the fireplace, before turning her attention to the pensive duo. "Surely your mother- er- mothers could find a way to stop this."

Blaise snickered. "Sure, mine would suggest a fast-acting poison,and Narcissa warned him. They'll not help more than that. In fact, they're likely sitting back and waiting to see if and how Draco will get himself out of this."

The room grew quiet. Ginny stared into the fire, mulling over the problem for quite some time. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the clink of the bottles. "So," she said, feeling defeated when she couldn't think of any viable ways to stop Lucius' maneuvering. "You'll be going home then?"

"Not a fucking chance," Draco said angrily. She winced as the Firewhisky bottle shattered against the far wall a moment later. "I'm not a child any longer."

"Draco, I think you've had enough," Blaise interjected in a soft, reasoning tone. "Let me help you to your room and we'll think about this tomorrow."

Ginny surprised herself, turning in the chair, her eyes meeting Draco's. "I'm sorry."

"I don't need your pity," he replied scathingly. He jumped to his feet and swayed drunkenly.

Ginny pressed back into the chair, wide-eyed and wary. She didn't pity him, not really. In fact, she rather felt like she had been in his shoes once. Well, not so dramatically, she thought hastily,the way Mum and Ron expected me to just fall in line and marry Harry isn't that different though. She was sure of one thing. Draco this angry was most definitely frightening. The look in his eyes was somewhere between murderous and defeated- like a cornered animal that was looking for a way out, any way out.

She didn't move from the chair until well after Blaise led Draco out. There was an idea forming in her head. A mad idea. Did she have enough of that lauded Gryffindor bravery in her to suggest it? Would Draco laugh his arse off if she did present him with it? She didn't know.

She just didn't know.

--**

For three days, Ginny thought her idea through, discarded it as ridiculous and then came right back to it when Draco and Blaise, or rather their army of solicitors, couldn't find away around Lucius' plans. After dealing with owls and paperwork all day long and faced with the realization that without the Malfoy Galleons the program would be shut down permanently, Ginny finally gathered her bravery at dinner.

"I'll do it. Marry you, I mean. If it'll help," she trailed off, ducking her head, her cheeks heating once she realized how ridiculous she sounded. "Never mind, it was a stupid idea."

"No, no, it isn't." Blaise said, smiling wickedly. "It's better than hauling Millie or Tracey down here and begging them to help."

"A Malfoy never begs," Draco interjected, an attempt to sound haughty that fell flat. His mouth quirked into a half smile-half smirk. "Besides, Greg would hand your arse to you if you even suggested that and you know it."

Ginny shrugged, pushing her food around her plate, not too terribly hungry what with her stomach in knots. She'd heard a bit about the tight-knit group of Slytherins, but not enough to know why Goyle would hunt Blaise down. She rather thought his suggestion was was good one. At least with a fellow Slytherin wife it wouldn't be that much of a change. Then again, Draco seemed to be content to stay here and she couldn't see any of the Slytherin witches agreeing to 'rough it' in South Africa.

"Why?" Draco asked, sounding nothing like the spoilt prat she knew he was most of the time. He sounded almost hopeful, though that was likely her imagination. "Why?" he repeated.

Ginny looked up and shrugged. "We can always divorce afterwards. The money will be yours and according to wizarding law we can get divorced after six months. It isn't that far away after all."

Blaise grinned. "I say take Ginny up on her offer, Draco. It's that or having Greg trail after you, hexing you if you dared touch his girl."

"His girl?" Ginny asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Draco blanched. "Let's not discuss Greg's sex life over dinner. I'd rather not think on it at all."

"Well," Blaise said, picking up his wine glass and twirling it between his fingers. "Pansy married Flint, Daphne is more likely to accost Ginny than you, and most of the other Pure-blooded witches would either take you for every Galleon in a divorce or be so damn scared that they'd not even be able to sputter out a reason why not to agree to this madness."

Ginny sipped her wine, watching the play-by-play with a great deal of amusement. The two men argued like an old married couple most days. Grinning, she couldn't resist a bit of fun at their expense. She did have her wand and was seated closest to the door. She could probably escape before hexes were thrown. "Or you could marry Blaise. No carrying on the family lines with that route." She paused, tapping her chin. "Though, with your Galleons I'm sure there is someone out there that would be all too happy to figure out a way."

Draco dropped his fork, his eyes widening comically as his mouth fell open.

Blaise's wine glass shattered on the floor as it fell through nerveless fingers. All he seemed capable of was blinking rapidly, opening and closing his mouth without a sound escaping.

She bit the inside of her mouth as not to laugh uproariously at the horrified reaction and pushed on. "Then again, your mothers would likely feed the two of you that fast-acting poison...or haul your arses straight to St. Mungo's permanent spell damage ward."

"Bite your tongue," Draco snapped, once he'd stopped gaping.

"That's not funny!" Blaise exclaimed, shaking his head and glancing at Draco every few moments as if he was preparing to flee at the first sign of temper.

Ginny lost it, barely setting her wine glass aside as she laughed until she cried. "But, you'd make such pretty babies," she managed to say, swiping the tears from her eyes.

"GINNY!" Blaise objected, in what he would vehemently deny was a girlish shriek were anyone to point it out. Ginny didn't truly have a death wish so she just filed it away for future reference.

Draco was staring at her as if she'd grown a second head. It only caused her to laugh harder, clutching her aching sides. This was the most fun she'd had since the time she and the twins had managed to use a temporary sticking charm on Ron's hands just before he decided to grope Hermione's arse. Then it hit her. Why else would they react so dramatically if there wasn't something to this. Had they really? Did they really? Her eyes met Blaise's and then Draco's. Both had closed off, that patented Slytherin mask back in place. "Oh! Oh, I won't tell, I swear."

"Weasley," Draco growled, addressing her by her surname for the first time in months. "Blaise and I aren't shag buddies."

"You sure?" she said, finally gaining control of her laughter. "That's something that you would have to disclose to your future wife."

"Ginevra," Blaise said tightly. "Just drop it."

'Weasley' and 'Ginevra', she pondered, yes definitely something to this. "How about Luna? I don't think she'd mind sharing, she's fairly open-minded about most things."

"We're not poofters and I'll not marry Lovegood, for any reason."

Ginny leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, I suppose you have some other idea about how to fix this then?"

Draco took a deep breath, staring at his clenched hands where they rested on the table. "Take you up on your offer."

She nearly fell out of her chair. She'd not once thought that he'd do anything but laugh at her - or curse her. Unsure of how to react, she quietly said, "All right. All I'll ask is that you don't pull your funding of the Quidditch program."

He looked up, his grey eyes wide. "You're serious? This isn't some sort of prank is it?"

Mildly insulted, she huffed, tapping her nails on the table. "It's not right, what your father is doing. It's worse than my mum and Ron pushing Harry at me every time I turn around. At least with them, there wasn't a ridiculous ultimatum involved."

She ran a hand through her unbound hair and leveled Draco with a look that clearly said 'I'm trying to help here. Don't be a prat'. "We can go to Kimberley or Johannesburg and have someone marry us. After the six months we can have it annulled." It's not like we'll consummate it or anything.

Blaise laughed. "Can I please be there when you inform Lucius?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You think he'll take it badly? What about Ron, Harry, and my other five brothers? Or my Mum, who still holds out hope that I'll settle down and have a half dozen little Potters?"

Blaise's grin widened and the wicked gleam was back in his eyes. "What better retribution for all those years of meddling?"

"Fair point," she murmured, watching Draco's face closely, searching for some sign of his true feelings about all of this. She got the feeling that he loathed disappointing his parents even when their high-handedness brassed him off. Marrying a Weasley, even if only for a few months, had to be a fate worse than death in their eyes. At least she wasn't a money-grubbing social climber that was in it for the Galleons.

"Tshwane," Draco replied. "If we're going to do this, then we should go to Tshwane."

"The Voortrekker Monument or the Union buildings grounds?" Blaise asked, a silent Accio delivering a quill, ink, and parchment. "Both would look nice in pictures. You do realize you'll have to do this properly if you want anyone to believe you, don't you?"

Ginny and Draco both nodded, the seriousness of what they were planning had brought an air of utmost seriousness where teasing and laughter had been moments before.

Blaise uncapped the ink and began taking notes. "I assume we'll be doing this as traditionally as possible?"

Draco sighed heavily. "We'll have to or face the wrath of Mrs. Weasely, my Mum, and Callista. I don't think any of us would survive that."

Ginny was inclined to agree. It was going to be bad enough that she was marrying Draco Malfoy in South Africa and only informing her family after the fact. If they didn't follow at least most of the Wizarding traditions then all hell would break loose. It would be best to stick to tradition. "I remember Odara mentioning a bridal store in Cape Town that catered to the traditionalist witches and wizards. I could owl her and see if she has the details."

"Rings," Blaise said, with a nod to Draco. "That you'll have to handle."

Ginny crinkled her nose. She'd seen enough of the society crowd when she and Mostafa had been looking for investors. The women seemed to be of the mindset that the bigger and gaudier the jewellery, the better it was. "Let's keep them simple."

Of course, that only seemed to shock them again. Rolling her eyes, she amended her request. "I don't want one of those monstrosities that the women in Cape Town and Johannesburg seem to prefer. One, there isn't a need. Two, I would be afraid that I'd be attacked if I wore it about. And lastly, it would only cause more strife with Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy if they caught sight of a huge diamond on my finger. They will react badly about this as it is, why give them more reasons?"

There was something in Draco's expression, something Ginny couldn't name, as the side of his mouth quirked up in an almost smile. "Are there any Weasley or Prewett traditions that we need to know about?"

Ginny winced and muttered, "Bridal crown or a tiara, damn it all."

Blaise snickered, dutifully taking notes and not daring to look up from the parchment. "Why in Merlin's name do they follow Norwegian traditions?"

"Does it truly matter? The bridal crown is a tradition in my family as well. It's not as if we can get around it either way," Draco pointed out, shoving a hand through his hair with a look of defeat. "Ginny will need a white or silver gown as well."

"Orange blossoms," Ginny offered. "In the bridal bouquet, I mean. There has to be orange blossoms. Oh, and golden Calla lilies."

"Orange blossoms?"

"What?" Blaise sounded confused. "What happened to roses and the like?"

Ginny shrugged. "As long as the two I mentioned are in the bouquet then it doesn't matter what else is there. I don't get it either, as orange doesn't really go with the red hair. Come to think of it, Fleur refused the mere idea of orange blossoms. She did, however, agree to the lilies. I thought Mum's head would explode."

"Does your family have a bridal crown?" Blaise asked, still taking notes.

"No, Aunt Muriel has a Goblin-made tiara that has been used for the last few weddings though."

Blaise made one more note before capping the ink and getting to his feet. "How about you worry about the gown and we'll manage the rest?"

Ginny nodded numbly. She was really doing this. It wasn't some mad dream. Once the men were out of the room, she buried her face in her hands and wondered just what the ruddy hell she'd gotten herself into this time.

--**

Three weeks later, Ginny was once again in Cape Town. This was the final fitting for her gown and she was fully prepared to hex the sales witch if the fitting took one second more than it should. Even as simple as they were keeping the ceremony, there had still been tons of details and little annoyances that had kept her from the children far more than she'd liked. Blaise had proven to be quite helpful, whether charming the sales witches or government officials.

She turned to the mirrors and grinned. She couldn't help but adore her dress. Simple, yet elegant, had been Blaise's assessment.

Her hair, up in a loose bun today, would be in an elegant up-do that would partially hide the bridal crown. Not that the Malfoy crown wasn't gorgeous, she just felt a bit odd wearing a crown at all. She had to give the men credit for managing to liberate it from the Gringotts vault without alerting Lucius. Then again, she had a funny feeling that Narcissa smoothed the way there.

Stepping from the small platform, Ginny smiled widely at the nervous looking sales witch. "It's perfect, thank you."

The woman was obviously surprised. "Mr. Zabini and Mr. Malfoy insisted that whatever you needed we were to accomplish."

Ginny slipped into the fitting room and carefully removed the dress. For all that this was a temporary marriage, she was excited all the same. In two days she would be Ginny Malfoy, as mind-boggling as it sounded. She had one more errand before the ceremony tomorrow and if she didn't hurry there wouldn't be time to accomplish it before she needed to meet Draco and Blaise at the hotel in Tshwane. Thank Merlin for Apparition.

She waited while her dress was carefully boxed and hurried to the nearest Apparition point. It just wouldn't do to be without a bouquet for her own wedding; it was all about appearances after all. If it hadn't been, they would have found a magistrate and had this sham over with weeks ago.

Twenty minutes later, she exited the floral shop with her bouquet boxed and with a dozen stasis charms on it.

She was going to get through this. It was no different than packing up and moving to South Africa. Her fears would have to be set aside in order to save the program and Draco. With a heavy sigh, she twirled her engagement ring in a nervous habit she'd picked up the day Draco had given it to her. She had requested simple and he'd actually listened.

"I can get through this," she murmured, with more hope than conviction, "It's only for six months."

--**

Ginny felt the tug of magic as the officiant said, "then I declare you bonded for life," but ignored it in favour of turning to her new husband. Draco was grinning and she could tell that the weight he'd been under was lifted. There would be no 'chosen' wife, no meddling Lucius, and she couldn't help but grin in return.

"You really did it," Blaise said, grinning wildly. He was nearly bouncing when he stepped up with them and smiled for the camera.

Ginny shook her head and chuckled, ignoring the blinding flash as the photographer snapped hundreds of pictures. The gardens of the Union buildings in Tshwane were beautiful. The perfect place for the simple, yet traditional, wedding she had wanted. The fact that there was a weather spell on it year round had only made it that much more appropriate for the ceremony. Blaise seemed particularly overjoyed, something she attributed to it not being him that was forced into marriage. The man was a dedicated bachelor and she often wondered if it was a result of his mother's many marriages or just an attempt to shag every woman he could get his hands on.

"Yes, we did," Draco said dryly. "Did you think one of us would run home to Britain instead?"

Blaise's grin turned wicked. "Oh, you'll figure it out soon enough."

He handed over her engagement ring to Draco, who slid it back on her finger next to the simple platinum wedding band. It had been a bit of a shock, how willing Draco had been to concede to her on the majority of her requests. Maybe it was his way of thanking her for saving his arse from Astoria Greengrass who was, according to Narcissa, the witch Lucius had chosen for him. That bit of news had arrived via owl just days ago. She'd never, ever seen Draco that disgusted. He'd taken it worse than he had the initial 'Lucius is meddling' letter.

"It's time for me to leave you two to the best part of the whole debacle."

Ginny's brows rose. "What the hell are you talking about, Blaise?"

He looked far too innocent for her comfort when he buffed his nails on his shirt and looked up at them through his lashes. "Well, did you think the man was joking when he said 'bonded for life'?"

Before either she or Draco could catch him, Blaise Apparated away, laughing all the while.

Stunned, she glanced over at Draco, who looked calm despite the implications of the information they'd just received. "Draco?"

He smirked. "What? At least you aren't Daphne's sister. Besides, Blaise was just trying to get a rise out of us."

She took the hand he offered, her stomach in knots again. All she could think was, What if Draco was wrong?

--**

The first month of their marriage was no different than before. Ginny slept in her bedroom and Draco in his. The only difference was the knowledge that the program wouldn't be shut down, which eased Ginny's mind greatly. Draco was almost giddy; prone to snickering at odd intervals in what she assumed was supreme amusement of getting one over on his father. It wasn't until early Sunday evening that Ginny felt the first real stirrings of unease. Draco had convinced her that Blaise was just being Blaise and that they had nothing to worry about in regards to obtaining a divorce in June. If she was feeling a bit worn and tired, it was nothing. Wasn't it? Alone in the offices, she was finishing up the last of the paperwork- requests for better equipment- when a light, lilting voice interrupted the quiet that usually settled over the office when she was alone.

"Well, I can attest to his taste, she's quite pretty, Cissa."

Ginny whipped her head up in shock, gaping like a fish at the sight of Narcissa Malfoy and Callista Zabini brushing snow off of their shoulders just inside the office door. She knew that Draco had owled his mother with the news of their marriage, but never in her wildest dreams (or even her nightmares) did she ever think that either woman, let alone both, would show up. Of course, they'd also hoped to stay away from their families for the duration. It wasn't as if they wanted to face the repercussions of foiling Lucius' plans or her family's disapproval.

"A bit short, but better than the Greengrass bint Lucius had all picked out," Narcissa agreed wryly. "Ginevra?"

Ginny shook her head to clear her muddled mind. She stood quickly, belatedly remembering her manners. "Mrs. Malfoy, Mrs. Zabini, what a surprise."

Callista laughed. "Did you think we wouldn't check on the situation ourselves? Blaise knew we were coming, didn't he tell you?"

Oh, Blaise is dead. Smiling sweetly even as she planned retribution, she said, "No, it must have slipped his mind."

"Yes, it must have."

Ginny knew now where Draco got his penchant for dry, sarcastic humor. Apparently when Narcissa wasn't looking down on the plebeians, she had a wicked sense of humor. Her hands shaking, Ginny stacked the paperwork and recapped the ink bottle. "Just give me a moment and I'll take you up to the cottage. The boys should be there. I'm afraid dinners are usually simple fare. If I'd known you were coming, I would have asked Odara to prepare something more to your liking."

She felt ill. There was no way that she could face these two women alone. Where were Blaise and Draco? Surely Blaise wasn't malicious enough to keep Draco away when he knew who was to arrive, was he? She'd thought they had become - at the least- cautious friends. Was she wrong? She swayed, feeling light-headed for a moment, before she was able to steady herself.

Callista stepped forward, frowning slightly. "Ginerva? Are you feeling ill?"

Ginny waved off the concern. "I skipped lunch is all."

Neither woman looked convinced as they insisted she have a seat. Ginny didn't like being coddled, never had and never would. It was one of the reasons she'd taken the job with the Harpies and this one as well. But they were being so very pleasant; she couldn't snip and snarl like she wanted to. Lifting her hand slowly, she tucked her hair behind her ear. "Thank you, but it is nothing."

"Is there a house elf to fetch Draco?" Narcissa inquired softly.

Ginny shook her head, regretting it immediately as her stomach rolled and she saw black spots. She closed her eyes and tried to breath deeply, hoping whatever this was would pass. How awkward and embarrassing was this? "N-no. No house elves."

"You poor dear." A cool hand was pressed gently on her forehead. "Is there anyone who can fetch them?"

Callista's soft, soothing voice settled over Ginny like a warm blanket. "Patronus. You can use your Patronus."

She risked opening her eyes a few minutes later when she was lifted out of the chair; the sandalwood scent she associated with Draco enveloped her as firmly as his strong arms did. His eyes were full of concern as he gazed down at her. Sighing, mortified, she laid her head on his shoulder. "Sorry," she whispered.

"No need to be," he assured her, striding across the room, stopping only long enough for Blaise to tuck her cloak around her.

Ginny wished she had the energy to deliver the death threat she had formed to Blaise. All her energy seemed to be seeping away. She could have sworn she heard Narcissa whisper, "We got here just in time," before she gave in and allowed sleep to overtake her.

--**

Groaning, Ginny rolled and cautiously opened her eyes. Slowly her bedroom came into focus.

"Have you rejoined the land of the living then?"

"Fuck off, Blaise." She felt weak and floaty, so her words didn't carry the usual threat.

He laughed lightly before moving into her line of sight. "Seriously, Ginny, how are you feeling?"

"Like utter and complete shite."

The bed dipped, sending her head spinning again and she closed her eyes reflexively. "Fuck off."

"Leave Ginny alone, Blaise. If I hear one more word from you, you'll be cursed impotent."

Ginny, much to her shock, leaned towards Draco's voice. What is going on? The pull was too powerful to overcome. She very nearly arched into the hand that was cautiously brushing the hair off of her face. It was as if all her inhibitions were gone where Draco was concerned. She'd always found him handsome but hidden it. After all she was a Weasley and he was a Malfoy, it just wouldn't do for him to know how attractive she found him, but now there was something that drew her toward him.

A new voice entered the fray. "As much as I want grandchildren, I agree with Draco on this, Blaise. Leave the poor dear alone."

Blaise grumbled unintelligibly and all Ginny cold manage was a light chuckle. Anything more seemed to drain what little energy she had. Her mind was fuzzy, preventing her from asking the one thing she had to know. Just what the fuck was going on?

"Rest now," Callista urged her. "We'll explain everything in just a bit."

--**

The next time Ginny surfaced she realized that Draco was stretched out next to her and was, by all appearances, sleeping soundly. Rubbing a hand over her face, she slowly sat up, ignoring the lurch of her stomach.

"You won't last long like this."

She turned her head, slowly, to see Narcissa curled up in the wingback chair next to the fireplace. Her brows rose. "What?"

Narcissa tapped the large book resting in her lap. "By using the old traditions the two of you activated ancient magic. There are no divorces, no outs; you're bonded totally and completely."

"Next time, try the 'break it to her slowly' idea, Mother," Draco said dryly, obviously not as asleep as Ginny thought.

Gaping, Ginny watched as Narcissa sat the book aside and got to her feet. "I'll leave Draco to explain."

"At least she doesn't have her wand," Draco muttered irritably, sitting up and leaning back against the headboard next to Ginny.

Ginny wasn't amused. "Explain."

Looking sheepish for what had to be the first time in his life, Draco's shoulders dropped. "We have to have a real marriage."

"So," she said slowly, her mind spinning at the implications of what Narcissa had revealed, "we're not annulling this in June then?"

Draco laughed derisively. "No, we're stuck with each other. You heard her, no divorces, no outs."

"Why am I ill?" It seemed the most logical question. Everything was spinning wildly out of control, if she could just get a grasp on something simple- like being ill- maybe she would be able to work through the rest of the problems facing herself and Draco.

Draco shoved a hand through his already tousled hair and grimaced. He refused to look at her, in fact, he studied the painting on the far wall with an intensity that left her wondering if he'd burn a hole in it by sheer will alone. His voice was so low that she had trouble hearing it. "Until we consummate the marriage you will continue to be ill. It'll get worse actually, the longer we wait."

Stunned, Ginny's hand flew to her mouth. He couldn't be serious. He just couldn't! If this was true then why had neither of them heard about it? Both were Pure-bloods. Surely ancient magical bondings would be something that they would have been warned about. Wide-eyed she tried to ask, but she was too stunned to do more than stare at him.

"It's one of those 'secrets' that we're not privy to until after we're married."

"What?" she finally sputtered. She had to be delirious. There was just no other option. Or she had fallen and hit her head. Or..or...but the look on Draco's face was dead serious. Would he look at her like that if this was her delusion? No, she admitted. If this was my delusion there would be a lot less clothes. Her cheeks flaming, she stared at the duvet unwilling to admit that she wasn't as upset about this turn of events as he obviously was.

He slid from the bed. "I can't go far without making you even more ill, but I'll give you as much privacy as possible. Surely being married to me isn't that horrid."

Ginny hastily shook her head. There was no way she'd confess her thoughts, but she didn't want him thinking that she was upset with him. He hadn't known any more than she had. "No, no, of course not."

Her cheeks flamed again and she barely resisted the urge to wince. That hadn't come out right at all.

She heard the door open and his low, somewhat sarcastic, "You may not love me, but you cannot deny that you want me," just before he ducked out the door.

"Oh Merlin," she muttered, burying her face in her hands. "What the hell am I going to do?"

"Get up, shower, and work with what you've been given."

Peeking through her fingers, Ginny winced. Callista was standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. "Um-"

"Don't 'umm' me, Ginevra Malfoy," Callista warned, stepping inside and closing the door firmly. "You'll realize soon enough the benefits of ancient magic. Be thankful that you'll never be in my shoes, married to a man twice your age because your father needs an alliance for business. Or resorting to things best left unsaid once the old man is dead and you find yourself forced into another marriage. Or-"

Ginny held up a hand, cutting the irate woman off. "I get it, all right! It's just a lot to take in. Give me five bloody minutes to THINK!"

Callista smiled smugly. "Good, hold that anger close. You'll need it when your family finds out about this." She turned to go, her hand reaching for the doorknob. "Just don't forget that Draco is in the same place you are. Working together will accomplish so much more."

It was sound advice. Ginny didn't like having this thrust upon her without warning, but apparently she'd have to adjust. "Mrs. Zabini?"

Callista smiled. "Callista, dear."

"Callista, thank you."

Her smile widened. "No need for that, but you're welcome just the same."

"Blaise knew all along, didn't he?"

Callista inclined her head in a silent response before smirking. "As long as you remember that I want grandbabies someday, have at him as you see fit."

Chuckling, Ginny cautiously stood and collected her clothing before making her way to the shower. She spotted Draco across the hall, reclined on his bed, but didn't have it in her to talk to him. Not just yet anyway.

--**

After a long shower, Ginny dressed and made her way back towards the bedrooms, steadying herself on the wall as the dizziness returned abruptly. Taking deep breaths, she started walking again, this time leaning completely on the wall for support. She loathed weakness of any kind. She'd been fighting to be seen as an equal since she was a tot.

"Will you bite my hand off if I help you?"

She looked up to see Draco leaning on the wall just outside his bedroom door. For once he didn't look well put together. His hair was all mussed and he was frowning slightly. She didn't understand any of this, most especially his acceptance of the whole mess. Where was the Draco that would whinge if his eggs weren't cooked 'just right'? "Why aren't you complaining about this?"

He pushed off the wall and slipped his arm about her waist. "We're not getting out of this so why not make the best of it and not make each other completely and utterly miserable?"

It was logical she had to admit; she just wasn't used to Draco being logical. He was the most illogical person she'd ever met, and considering Ron's logic, that was saying something. But him actually giving options and acquiescing to her requests was only confusing her further. Despite his frequent whinging and fits of childish temper, Draco was usually self-assured enough to expect everyone to fall into line with what he wanted. Even Blaise usually went along with what Draco wanted. That was how they'd ended up in South Africa. She didn't say anything, not until he led her into his bedroom and lifted her into his arms. "What are you doing?"

He didn't respond- a bit of the 'normal' Draco peeking through. Rather, he laid her on his bed and tucked the blankets around her.

"You'll feel better near me," he said eventually. Settling in next to her and picking his book back up, he didn't look at her as he waved his wand and a house elf appeared. "A light breakfast for Mrs. Malfoy, Ivy."

"Draco? What is going on? Since when did we acquire a house elf?"

He flipped a page in his book and shifted. She had to admit that his bed was twice as large as hers and did afford more room for the both of them. She also hadn't missed the fact that she did feel a bit better here with him. Leaning against the veritable mountain of pillows, Ginny tried again. "Draco."

"You are Mrs. Malfoy now. Besides, did you really think Mother and Callista would travel anywhere without at least one house elf? We have to discuss this at some point."

"True," she murmured, watching warily as Ivy reappeared with a tray of fresh fruit, a boiled egg, and toast and set it across her lap. "Thank you-"

"Don't do that in public."

Her brows rose and a smile formed. There. That was the Draco she knew. The snooty 'heir of the manor' attitude was a bit of normalcy. It actually helped settle her nerves a bit. Things had just been too strange, too abnormal for her liking lately. It was a shock to realize that they had a 'normal' routine. More shocking than it probably should have been considering just how long Draco and Blaise had been a part of her life, but shocking just the same. It eased her mind a bit. She dug through the bowl of cubed fruit pieces, bypassing the kiwi, papaya, and pineapple in favor of her favourite, dragon fruit. She busied herself munching on the tasty treat that she'd taken a liking to once Draco and Blaise had introduced her to it. She was amused, snickering lightly, when she realized that the only 'native' food on her tray was the plum preserves.

"What?" Draco inquired, proving once again that he did pay attention to his surroundings even when he seemed totally focused on his book.

"Nothing. It's silly."

"Why don't I be the judge of that?" he retorted, making it clear that he was going to continue asking until she answered him.

Shaking her head, she wiped her juice-coated hands on the linen serviette. "My breakfast is one that could be found anywhere in the world. There are days we're so immersed in the native society that I forget you and Blaise have travelled the world." And I haven't, was left unsaid, but clear. She toyed with the knife. "Silly, like I said."

"If you would prefer, I can call Ivy back and have green mango atjar or yellow melon muscatel brought instead."

He was pouting again and she sighed. "I didn't say I wasn't happy with the food, Draco. I was amused is all."

He closed his book, angling his body as to look her in the eyes. "Don't you get it yet?"

Perplexed, she stared blankly at him. "What?"

He glared at her, a reminder of their old familial rivalry that she hadn't seen since his arrival nearly seven months ago. "You are ill and I've the compulsion to insure you aren't displeased by anything."

"Anything?" she replied dully.

He smirked. "You think I'm usually this, this- accommodating?"

"No. I was beginning to wonder if your mother hit you with some kind of congeniality charm actually." She cocked her head to the side. "How long has this been going on?"

"Since the wedding," he admitted reluctantly, shoving a hand through his hair. "Mother and Callista explained it to me when you were sleeping."

"Can someone explain it to me? I think I deserve to know."

"Yes, you do," he conceded and then grimaced because he had done it again.

She felt like banging her head on the handiest surface. She didn't like Draco this way. She enjoyed their sparring and his overbearing assumption that he always knew what was correct irregardless of the situation. "Will you please stop with the 'whatever you want' attitude? I prefer you snarky."

"Oh thank Merlin!" he exclaimed with an unhidden sigh of relief.

"What?" It felt like that was all she was saying these days. If only someone would tell her what was going on she wouldn't be so damn confused.

"I just told you."

Thank Merlin, was all she could think. "Told me what?" she said, feeling exasperated. "That you've been uncharacteristically nice?"

He actually cringed. "Exactly. It's part of the ancient magic we inadvertently activated by adhering to the traditions."

"So," she said, her stomach rolling once again as everything finally became clear. "By trying to keep the complaints to a minimum, we ended up doing exactly what your father wanted in the first place?"

"Probably what the bastard had planned all along," Draco groused, crossing his arms over his chest, pouting heavily.

"He planned on you marrying me?"

"Merlin, no!"

It hurt, Ginny wasn't a good enough actress to hide that. She had been thinking of the children, and if she were honest with herself, of getting one over on Lucius Malfoy when she'd offered to help Draco out. It wasn't as if she'd been expecting an actual 'thank you' or anything, Draco would never be one to say thank you- if was something Malfoys just didn't do. She had, however, been expecting something more than this. Cool politeness was one thing, outright insulting her was completely different. She set the tray aside and moved towards the edge of the bed. Tears were stinging her eyes but she refused to allow them to fall in Draco's presence.

Arms wrapped around her waist and she found herself in Draco's lap before she could protest.

"I didn't mean it that way," he said, sounding fed up with the whole mess. "I merely meant that my father had to know that I would do whatever I had to in order to thwart his plans. It was serendipity that you offered. Otherwise I would be hanging by my toes, left for the lions."

"I don't think Greg would appreciate that comparison, though I'm fairly sure Tracey wouldn't have you in the first place. You did offer to pay to have her kiss Pansy in third year. Birds just don't forget that kind of thing," Blaise said from the doorway.

Ginny felt the blush stealing across her cheeks when she realized that Blaise merely sounded amused as he entered the room and sat on the end of the bed.

"Have you two come to an accord then?"

"Shove off, Blaise," Draco suggested in a low, threatening tone. "Go see what mother and Callista are up to."

Blaise shook his head, holding his hands up in a surrendering motion. "Oh hell no. I just escaped their plotting and I'll not willingly go back. You don't want to know some of the ideas they come up with when they have too much time on their hands."

Draco groaned, loudly, but made no effort to move her. In fact, she tried to slip off of his lap and he stopped her, not saying a word- the tightening of his hands at her waist was enough. She couldn't help but wonder how good of an actor Draco was. Was all of this an act? Was he more upset than he was letting on? How were they ever going to make this work? She twisted in his hold, their eyes meeting. There was confidence, that habitual confidence she had come to rely on (even if she didn't even admit it to herself) from Draco.

The 'click' of the door closing was the only noise in the room. Yet, they didn't look away from one another. Something was tugging at them, telling them what would be whether they liked it or not. The realization that no matter what, they were in this together, forever, finally sank in. She could see, in her minds eye, the rough road ahead of them. Lucius would be furious, her brothers murderous, her parents disappointed...the list was endless. She was scared right down to her bones. How were they ever going to make this work?

***

Five years later
Cape Town, South Africa

Ginny adjusted her skirts with a wide smile. She thought this day would never come. Blaise was finally settling down with Luna Lovegood - the last woman she would have thought of if she'd been choosing for him. She'd left that bit of meddling to Narcissa and Callista. They were a good fit - even Draco admitted that just last night when they'd been readying the twins for bed.

She glanced over at the chairs where Etanin and Naledi were sitting between Narcissa and Callista. Her babies were four-years old and quite the little hellions despite (or perhaps because of) their grandmother, and honorary grandmother, visiting as often as possible. Etanin was currently attempting to escape Callista, his loud, "Asseblief, I want Daddy and Uncle Blaise," was joined by Naledi's, "Ouma, Please! I want my mommy!"

She could hear Draco and Blaise's snickers, shooting them a glare even as she wondered if she should leave the dais and settle the children. With the wisdom of a happily married woman, she knew her wedding had been perfect and hoped that Blaise and Luna's would be as well. It had been hard, at first, between her and Draco. But, like the Afrikaans saying that Odara had taught all of them 'Probeer is die beste geweer,' - there is nothing like trying. They had tried, from that first awkward 'consummation' shag- which neither had been all that enthused about but which both had ended up enjoying immensely, to their constant need for teamwork in expanding the Quidditch Program further and further north with each passing year.

Ginny couldn't help but smirk as Etanin broke away and raced down the aisle, wrapping his tiny little arms around Luna's leg. "Auntie Luna," he said, in what Ginny was sure he thought was a whisper. "Are you really my Auntie yet?"

Luna giggled, looking up with a wry smile at Blaise. "Soon, very soon. Do you want to walk me to Uncle Blaise so I can be?"

Etanin nodded emphatically and released Luna's leg, holding his arm out in a fair imitation of Draco. "So I can have cousins too, right? The sooner the better, right."

Draco's howl of laugher nearly drowned out Callista's, "I wonder if Blaise knows he has to make me a grandmother as soon as possible?"

Ginny, desperately trying to hide her snickers behind her hand, turned to see if Blaise had heard his mother. He was grinning wolfishly so she figured he had no problems at all with the minor (compared to what she and Draco had dealt with) meddling by Narcissa and Callista.

"Don't worry, Blaise," Ginny said, still smirking, as she leaned over as to be heard over Draco's laughter. "Take it from me, if you can get through this, you can get through anything."