A/N: I know it is short, but the more I look at this, the better it looks as a chapter all on it's own. Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for the super-fast beta *hugs*. She is currently beta-ing the Smut Cookie to this fic and I am currently writing chapter 3 (just so you all know).
Bill was nervous, he could lose his job for this. It was a blatant and flagrant abuse of privileges, not to mention a severe breach of the client confidentiality clause in his contract. But desperate times called for desperate measures. He had not seen Ginny for six months, not since that fateful weekend after Ron and Hermione's wedding. Oh, he knew she was alive and well, that much was incontestable.
After their marriage, they had placed a small advertisement in the 'Births, Deaths and Marriages' section of the 'Daily Prophet', and there had been instant uproar in the community. The story of the Malfoy heir marrying the only Weasley daughter was hot news, and had appeared in the 'Society Scrolls' section of the paper on a regular basis. They had been photographed frequently, or rather, as frequently as they were seen by photographers, strolling hand-in-hand along Diagon Alley or Hogmeade High Street, smiling, laughing and hugging. The minute their mother had seen the photographs, the entire newspaper would be consigned to the fire, and those members of the family present, would watch in loyal silence as the flames engulfed a still laughing Ginny and Malfoy. As much as they hated to admit it, the omission of Ginny was tearing the family apart, especially with the births and christenings of the latest editions to the Weasley lineage and the announcement of Hermione’s first pregnancy.
Predictably, Ron had taken the news badly, and had taken to nagging Harry to use his connections with the Aurors to find 'the filthy Ferret' and have him locked up. Out of all of them, Harry had been the most pragmatic, seen sense, and done no such thing. Finally, he snapped one Sunday lunchtime and informed Ron that marriage was not, to his extensive knowledge, illegal, nor were marriages between Malfoys and Weasleys, and that perhaps they should be ashamed of themselves for driving away their own sister with the very prejudices they claimed to despise. Molly had not spoken to him for a week.
His throat was dry as he reached out to knock on the non-descript, black-painted front door, adorned only with a brass number '4'. He hoped this was the right place, this was the only contact address listed by Gringotts for Mr. D.L. and Mrs. G.M. Malfoy, and he hoped that they had not opted to elect a representative as a contact, otherwise he would have achieved nothing and risked his job in the process. Technically he wasn't supposed to have access to those particular records in the first place, but through some rather artful invieglement, he had managed to procure a temporary pass to the archives. Finding the address had been the easy part, finding the location had not been. Evidently Malfoy's little vacation at the Minister's pleasure had made him somewhat distrustful, and he had chosen an unplottable apartment building that had taken Bill weeks of careful investigation via the various wizarding estate agents, to discover. Obviously, he could have gone to Harry, or one of his other Auror friends, and found it in five minutes, but he wanted to keep what he was doing a secret, at least for the time being.
Frustrating seconds ticked past as he stood outside the door waiting for some sort of response. At last, just as he was contemplating knocking again, he heard the sound of muffled footsteps, and the drawing of bolts and locks. Almost before he was ready, the door swung open to reveal an irritated looking Malfoy wearing the most bizarre garment he had ever seen.
When he had turned up, he had expected Malfoy to be at his usual well-groomed best, instead he found him wearing some sort of silk wrap that was not only a pale, baby blue, but far too short and adorned with lace and embroidery around the hem. Either Ginny had married someone extremely eccentric, or Malfoy had dressed in a hurry. Bill tried not to think about the reasons for either of these eventualities. The two men stared at each other somewhat coldly, before Malfoy stepped back from the door and invited him in with an elegant sweep of his arm.
"Who is it?" came the muffled voice of his sister from deep within the impressively spacious flat.
"You might want to come and see for yourself, Gin," Malfoy replied, an odd expression on his face, somewhere between concern and amusement.
"It's not Blaise again is it? You know I can't deal with him when I'm feeling like this. He's the only man I know that can work a night shift and still have the energy to bug his friends first thing in the morning."
Her grouse was said in a good-natured tone of voice, indicating that this 'Blaise' visited often, and that he was a sufficiently close friend that Ginny would get away with the teasing complaint.
"It's not Blaise," Malfoy replied, his voice deadpan.
"Oh, well be a dear and put the kettle on then, I'll be right out."
The blond man gestured towards a sumptuous looking leather sofa. "Take a seat. I guess I'm making tea if you want some."
"I'm fine... er... thanks anyway," Bill replied, feeling slightly disarmed by Malfoy's hospitality and domesticity.
"What tea would you like, Gin? Breakfast, jasmine green or peppermint?" Malfoy called out.
"The jasmine green please. Not too strong though."
A moment later, a door opened, and footsteps could be heard approaching the open-plan living space. Feeling slightly apprehensive, Bill sincerely hoped that Ginny wouldn't hex him into the middle of next week the moment she saw him.
The day after Ginny had dropped her bombshell, the immediate family had been summoned back to the Burrow for a family conference over dinner, they were all subdued, none more so than their mother, who had apparently not slept a wink all night. The conversation was hushed and awkward, since no one seemed to want to take the matter in hand and suggest some way of dealing with this latest crisis. That was, until Ginny turned up looking appropriately sheepish, with an unrepentant and uncomfortable looking Malfoy in tow. Molly Weasley had had an apoplexy. There had been a confusing cacophony of screaming, shouting, crying and threats, followed by Arthur Weasley lunging at Malfoy, with Fred and George bringing up the rear. Ginny had shrieked and darted in front her father, pushing an oddly calm Draco out of the way, who promptly received a vicious slap from Molly. If he was honest with himself, Bill had trouble accurately recalling what had happened next. Ginny had crumpled to the floor sobbing incoherently, Malfoy had tried to help her to her feet, somehow or other someone’s fist had connected with his face, and all hell had broken loose. After that, Ginny had made it clear that if they were going to force her to choose between her love for her family and her love for Draco, then clearly they needed re-educating on the subject. She had also told how their relationship had been secret for years and that if it could survive that, then it could survive the disapproval of her relations. Of course it hadn't been said so eloquently, nor so calmly.
It had been an ugly tableau, one that he hoped he would never experience again in his lifetime. Ginny had thrown her arms around Malfoy, sobbing that if they wanted to attack him, they'd have to attack her too. Their mother had then started crying again, asking where they went wrong with Ginny and why she was punishing them. It had been gut-wrenching in its emotional torment. Torn between his love for his family and his love for his little sister, Bill had watched helplessly as the fragile happiness of his family was shattered irreparably. Ginny and Malfoy had left, with the beginnings of an absolutely livid bruise blooming around his left eye and a handprint on his cheek. The screaming and arguing had then imploded, leaving Molly alternately screaming at her sons for driving her little girl away, and vowing to curse the Malfoy line into painful oblivion whilst sobbing her heart out. They had not seen Ginny since, except in the ill-fated photographs that appeared in the 'Daily Prophet'.
Ginny rounded the corner that hid her from view and stopped dead. Immediately the reasons for Draco's odd apparel became abundantly clear. She was swathed in the cavernous folds of a deep green silk bathrobe, the letters 'DM' artfully embroidered on the pockets in gold thread. Bill was shocked - she was looking decidedly the worse for wear, her face was pale with dark circles under her eyes, and her hair hastily swept up into a messy bun of sorts.
"A bit early for social calls isn't it, Brother?" she spat.
"Ginny...I..." he stuttered, not quite sure how to begin.
"Save it, Bill. I'm really not interested," she said, taking a seat in an armchair as far away from him as possible, and curling her legs up underneath her.
He ploughed on anyway, saying the first, and most humble thing he could think of in an attempt to make her listen to what he had to say - "I'm sorry, Ginny."
"Sorry?" she asked incredulously, "You're sorry?" Her voice began to crack and he could see tears welling in her eyes. Malfoy chose that moment to place a mug of steaming yellowish liquid in front of Ginny. Squeezing her shoulder, he muttered something in her ear, kissed her cheek and then headed off towards where Bill assumed the bedroom to be located.
The smell coming from Ginny's cup was oddly delicious in an aromatic and vaguely perfumey kind of way, and she picked it up inhaling deeply and sighing shakily as she struggled to control herself. He watched his sister sip the drink for a few moments, desperately scrabbling around in his head for the conversation that he had been planning and mentally rehearsing for weeks.
At length, Ginny spoke again, "What are you really doing here Bill? And more to the point, you do realise that using Gringotts' records to find our address is a flagrant breach of confidentiality, don't you?"
She didn't have to spell out the potential consequences for him to know that she knew them, and he was surprised by his sister's self-assurance and eloquence, which he supposed had a lot to do with being around Malfoy. She was wearing an expectant expression and had raised an eyebrow, challenging him to defend his actions.
He was saved from having to answer by the reappearance of Malfoy, looking every inch the well-groomed, aristocratic businessman Bill had expected to see that morning, instead of the embarrassingly underdressed and clearly harrassed figure that had answered the door. He had felt infinitely awkward when he had arrived, feeling as though seeing Malfoy in Ginny's bathrobe somehow made him more human, more... likeable... than his usual suave and expensive attire, and he had perhaps gained a decidedly uncomfortable insight into one of the reasons why Ginny claimed to love a man that almost everyone in the wizarding world considered repellant.
He was carrying a leather briefcase and headed towards the fireplace.
"I'll see you later, Gin. If I don't drop dead from boredom first, that is."
"Give Conrad my love. Oh, and Draco you have remembered about my appointment haven't you?"
"Of course. I'll meet you at one-thirty in your favourite café. I should be finished with Wilson by about one, if I'm lucky."
Leaning forward and brushing a kiss across her lips, Malfoy then stepped backwards into the fireplace, grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and disappeared in a flash of emerald fire.
Bill released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. The interaction between Ginny and Malfoy - no - Draco, was so easy and unconsciously intimate that not even Ron and Hermione could compare.
"Conrad Wilson? The Conrad Wilson?" Bill blurted, instead of asking the true questions plaguing his brain - What appointment? Was she ill? What was Malfoy doing to her? - she certainly didn't look well.
She raised an eyebrow at him as if to say 'Why is that important and why is it any of your business?'. "He's our solicitor, not that it's any of your business."
Finally getting his brain to work properly, he changed the subject and asked, "Are you alright, Ginny? You don't look very well."
"I'm fine," she snapped. "Get to the point, Bill. Why did you risk your job, and possibly your freedom, to come here?"
"I care about you, Ginny. We care about you, we're your family."
"You lost the right to claim either of those things when you rejected me and the man I love," she retorted coldly, getting up and taking her cup into the kitchen and bringing back a plate with two pieces of dry, cold toast on it.
"Ginny, you have to see it from our point of view; you turn up at the post-wedding bash wearing an engagement ring the size of Gibraltar, calmly announce to the entire family that you - who as far as we were concerned, were completely single - have not only been seeing Draco Malfoy, but sneaked away and married him. Then you promptly Disapparated, having just delivered the emotional equivalent of the Bombardier hex. Can you imagine how hurt Mum and Dad were? And then, to make matters worse, you turn up the next day with said husband in tow, and expect everyone to welcome him with open arms. Well I'm sorry, Ginny, but quite frankly you handled the whole situation appallingly. Can you blame us for being shocked and angry? Did you ever once broach the subject of seeing Malfoy, just to gauge the reaction? Did you ever once stop to consider that if you'd told us about your relationship from the beginning, we might have protested, argued and rebelled, but may well have eventually accepted him? No, you just assumed that we think so little of you that we would have prevented you from seeing him. I have eyes, Gin. I'm not a fool. I've been in your home for thirty minutes and already I can see what the pair of you share. Don't you think that Mum would have seen it too? We were there on that battlefield, Gin. We saw the pair of you together then, and if you think we missed your attempt to cry quietly when he was sentenced, then you're dead wrong. We love you and we miss you, Gin, please come home, this is tearing the family apart."
Ginny had sat in silence all through his diatribe, her head bowed. As he looked at his sister, Bill saw her shoulders shaking and silent tears were dripping onto her toast. He wanted to feel guilty for making her cry, but she needed to hear their side of the situation and he had never been one for pulling punches, none of the Weasley siblings were - that much had been attested to by the gloriously livid bruise that Draco had been given by Fred. He wasn't sure what to do, so he sat there quietly, looking the other way while Ginny dried her tears and threw away her sodden breakfast.
"What do you want me to do, Bill?" she asked when she had returned to her armchair and wrapped herself protectively in Draco's robes. "Do you want me to abandon Draco and return home to be coddled? Because I won't. Til death do us part, remember?"
"I'm not asking you to abandon him, I think we all know how that would turn out, we just want you back. I don't know why you felt it necessary to elope. What was the hurry? Why couldn't you have waited? Mum is heartbroken that she'll never get to plan your wedding." He paused for a moment with his next question, he wasn't sure he really wanted to know the answer. "You weren't... weren't pregnant were you?" he asked, his eyes darting around as though searching for evidence of an infant.
"No," she said shortly, "and why would it matter if I was? I am a grown woman. I'm not a schoolgirl anymore and it would do you well to remember it."
"I know, Gin, don't bite, it was just a question."
She sighed. "I don't know, Bill. It's been six months, I'm not sure that me just turning up on the doorstep is such a good idea, and I can't exactly write a letter can I? Not after what happened."
"No... I suppose not. But Gin, you've got to try. This whole situation has been allowed to get out of hand and has escalated to the point of insanity. Ron keeps bugging Harry to use his contacts in the Ministry, Mum is distraught, Dad spends more time in his shed than ever before, the twins, well the twins seem to alternate between concocting some sort of elaborate 'chance meeting', and joining Ron in badgering Harry. Then there's Percy, Charlie and myself - we all miss you too, not to mention the kids." He neglected to mention the two youngest members of the Weasley clan that Ginny had yet to meet.
She bit her lip and tucked her feet up a little tighter.
"But what about Draco, Bill?" she asked quietly.
"Come on, Gin, you can't expect us to accept him into the family straight away. The main problem I see, is that it is not so much who, as how! - You went behind our backs for years, then upped and married him. Just like that. I feel for you, Gin, I really do. I know very well what it is like to love someone enough to marry them, as, I'm sure, do the rest of the family. So I wouldn't expect you to simply hide his existence and involvement in your life, but please Gin, don't rub salt into an infected wound. Give us time, come back to us and see how it goes. Please? For me?"
"I'll give it some thought," she acceded quietly.
Bill knew he would get nowhere fast if he tried to push her, so he decided that he'd said his piece and that it would be a good time to drop the subject, because he knew that Ginny was stubborn and hardheaded and that if he pursued her for a more definite answer, then he would most likely incur her wrath, and the wrath of the Weasley women was not to be taken lightly.
"Percy tells me you've handed in your notice," he began, lamely. "Got a new job lined up?"
"Depends on your definition of 'job', I suppose," Ginny answered evasively.
There was awkward silence for a few moments before Bill cleared his throat and said "Go on...".
"Well, firstly, Second Assistant Archivist at the Hall of Records was not exactly the perfect job - the pay was crap and the were hours long and boring, I could barely afford to put food on the table, so giving it up isn't exactly a wrench - to be honest, sending my resignation letter was third happiest moment of my adult life."
Bill wasn't sure he wanted to know about the other two.
"Secondly, Draco wants us to move to the Manor, but he wants it completely gutted and redecorated which he wants me to oversee because he wants us to have a fresh start. He's already spoken to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement about having the place swept clean of all traces of Dark Magic, and after that, I get free reign, so I am going to be rather busy with that for the next few months."
"But what about your independence Gin? I thought that that was the reason you moved out in the first place - to get a place of your own and not have to rely on anyone else for money."
"Yes well, things have changed now." She didn't elaborate further, but Bill got the impression that she wasn't only referring to her change in marital status, and wondered how Malfoy had managed to persuade her to sacrifice her self-sufficiency.
"How is everyone?" She asked, trying to affect nonchalance and not succeeding in hiding the homesick tone in her voice.
Bill wasn't sure why, but he was vaguely irritated by her question. How did she think everyone was?
"Mum is devastated, Dad is depressed, Charlie is... Charlie - you know how he is about these things - just pretends it isn't happening, Percy is his usual pompous self, the twins are missing you - Katie and Angelina both had girls and they had hoped you would be their godmother but, well, you know..." he trailed off lamely, with a small shrug. Picking up the thread of his awkwardly interrupted narrative, he said "Ron took it very hard - he's been pestering Harry to use his Auror influences ever since but Harry, being Harry is more sensible than that, Hermione misses you I think - she's pregnant now - did you read the announcement?" He saw Ginny nod her head sadly. "The kids miss you too, Gin - Melissa especially - you know how she's always idolised you. Percy refuses to let your name be mentioned around her in case somehow-or-other she decides that running away and marrying the enemy is a good idea..." He couldn't quite keep the bitterness out of his voice, and she looked up him sharply, scowling.
"Draco isn't the enemy," she snapped.
"Perhaps not now, but up until the end of the war he certainly made a good show of being one."
She glared at him, then got up and headed towards the front door. "Draco's paid his dues. If all you've come here to do is insult my husband, then kindly leave," she said, pulling the door open and gesturing at it with her hand.
Getting up from the sofa, he followed her to the door. "Please Gin, this can't go on. There's a family dinner planned for a week this Sunday. Will you come?"
She stopped dead in her tracks and turned around, crossing her arms over her chest. "I said I'd think about it, and I will. Please don't push me, Bill. I'm worried; what if they turn me away? - I don't think I could stand it."
"We won't, Gin. We are your family and we love you."
She bit her lip and clutched Draco's voluminous robes around her tighter. "Okay then, I'll come," she said finally. "Without Draco ... for the time being," she amended.
He smiled encouragingly at his sister as she held the door open for him. "You know it's what you want, Gin. I'll see you Sunday after next then." Her pensive expression was the last thing he saw as he Disapparated.
Bill was nervous, he could lose his job for this. It was a blatant and flagrant abuse of privileges, not to mention a severe breach of the client confidentiality clause in his contract. But desperate times called for desperate measures. He had not seen Ginny for six months, not since that fateful weekend after Ron and Hermione's wedding. Oh, he knew she was alive and well, that much was incontestable.
After their marriage, they had placed a small advertisement in the 'Births, Deaths and Marriages' section of the 'Daily Prophet', and there had been instant uproar in the community. The story of the Malfoy heir marrying the only Weasley daughter was hot news, and had appeared in the 'Society Scrolls' section of the paper on a regular basis. They had been photographed frequently, or rather, as frequently as they were seen by photographers, strolling hand-in-hand along Diagon Alley or Hogmeade High Street, smiling, laughing and hugging. The minute their mother had seen the photographs, the entire newspaper would be consigned to the fire, and those members of the family present, would watch in loyal silence as the flames engulfed a still laughing Ginny and Malfoy. As much as they hated to admit it, the omission of Ginny was tearing the family apart, especially with the births and christenings of the latest editions to the Weasley lineage and the announcement of Hermione’s first pregnancy.
Predictably, Ron had taken the news badly, and had taken to nagging Harry to use his connections with the Aurors to find 'the filthy Ferret' and have him locked up. Out of all of them, Harry had been the most pragmatic, seen sense, and done no such thing. Finally, he snapped one Sunday lunchtime and informed Ron that marriage was not, to his extensive knowledge, illegal, nor were marriages between Malfoys and Weasleys, and that perhaps they should be ashamed of themselves for driving away their own sister with the very prejudices they claimed to despise. Molly had not spoken to him for a week.
His throat was dry as he reached out to knock on the non-descript, black-painted front door, adorned only with a brass number '4'. He hoped this was the right place, this was the only contact address listed by Gringotts for Mr. D.L. and Mrs. G.M. Malfoy, and he hoped that they had not opted to elect a representative as a contact, otherwise he would have achieved nothing and risked his job in the process. Technically he wasn't supposed to have access to those particular records in the first place, but through some rather artful invieglement, he had managed to procure a temporary pass to the archives. Finding the address had been the easy part, finding the location had not been. Evidently Malfoy's little vacation at the Minister's pleasure had made him somewhat distrustful, and he had chosen an unplottable apartment building that had taken Bill weeks of careful investigation via the various wizarding estate agents, to discover. Obviously, he could have gone to Harry, or one of his other Auror friends, and found it in five minutes, but he wanted to keep what he was doing a secret, at least for the time being.
Frustrating seconds ticked past as he stood outside the door waiting for some sort of response. At last, just as he was contemplating knocking again, he heard the sound of muffled footsteps, and the drawing of bolts and locks. Almost before he was ready, the door swung open to reveal an irritated looking Malfoy wearing the most bizarre garment he had ever seen.
When he had turned up, he had expected Malfoy to be at his usual well-groomed best, instead he found him wearing some sort of silk wrap that was not only a pale, baby blue, but far too short and adorned with lace and embroidery around the hem. Either Ginny had married someone extremely eccentric, or Malfoy had dressed in a hurry. Bill tried not to think about the reasons for either of these eventualities. The two men stared at each other somewhat coldly, before Malfoy stepped back from the door and invited him in with an elegant sweep of his arm.
"Who is it?" came the muffled voice of his sister from deep within the impressively spacious flat.
"You might want to come and see for yourself, Gin," Malfoy replied, an odd expression on his face, somewhere between concern and amusement.
"It's not Blaise again is it? You know I can't deal with him when I'm feeling like this. He's the only man I know that can work a night shift and still have the energy to bug his friends first thing in the morning."
Her grouse was said in a good-natured tone of voice, indicating that this 'Blaise' visited often, and that he was a sufficiently close friend that Ginny would get away with the teasing complaint.
"It's not Blaise," Malfoy replied, his voice deadpan.
"Oh, well be a dear and put the kettle on then, I'll be right out."
The blond man gestured towards a sumptuous looking leather sofa. "Take a seat. I guess I'm making tea if you want some."
"I'm fine... er... thanks anyway," Bill replied, feeling slightly disarmed by Malfoy's hospitality and domesticity.
"What tea would you like, Gin? Breakfast, jasmine green or peppermint?" Malfoy called out.
"The jasmine green please. Not too strong though."
A moment later, a door opened, and footsteps could be heard approaching the open-plan living space. Feeling slightly apprehensive, Bill sincerely hoped that Ginny wouldn't hex him into the middle of next week the moment she saw him.
The day after Ginny had dropped her bombshell, the immediate family had been summoned back to the Burrow for a family conference over dinner, they were all subdued, none more so than their mother, who had apparently not slept a wink all night. The conversation was hushed and awkward, since no one seemed to want to take the matter in hand and suggest some way of dealing with this latest crisis. That was, until Ginny turned up looking appropriately sheepish, with an unrepentant and uncomfortable looking Malfoy in tow. Molly Weasley had had an apoplexy. There had been a confusing cacophony of screaming, shouting, crying and threats, followed by Arthur Weasley lunging at Malfoy, with Fred and George bringing up the rear. Ginny had shrieked and darted in front her father, pushing an oddly calm Draco out of the way, who promptly received a vicious slap from Molly. If he was honest with himself, Bill had trouble accurately recalling what had happened next. Ginny had crumpled to the floor sobbing incoherently, Malfoy had tried to help her to her feet, somehow or other someone’s fist had connected with his face, and all hell had broken loose. After that, Ginny had made it clear that if they were going to force her to choose between her love for her family and her love for Draco, then clearly they needed re-educating on the subject. She had also told how their relationship had been secret for years and that if it could survive that, then it could survive the disapproval of her relations. Of course it hadn't been said so eloquently, nor so calmly.
It had been an ugly tableau, one that he hoped he would never experience again in his lifetime. Ginny had thrown her arms around Malfoy, sobbing that if they wanted to attack him, they'd have to attack her too. Their mother had then started crying again, asking where they went wrong with Ginny and why she was punishing them. It had been gut-wrenching in its emotional torment. Torn between his love for his family and his love for his little sister, Bill had watched helplessly as the fragile happiness of his family was shattered irreparably. Ginny and Malfoy had left, with the beginnings of an absolutely livid bruise blooming around his left eye and a handprint on his cheek. The screaming and arguing had then imploded, leaving Molly alternately screaming at her sons for driving her little girl away, and vowing to curse the Malfoy line into painful oblivion whilst sobbing her heart out. They had not seen Ginny since, except in the ill-fated photographs that appeared in the 'Daily Prophet'.
Ginny rounded the corner that hid her from view and stopped dead. Immediately the reasons for Draco's odd apparel became abundantly clear. She was swathed in the cavernous folds of a deep green silk bathrobe, the letters 'DM' artfully embroidered on the pockets in gold thread. Bill was shocked - she was looking decidedly the worse for wear, her face was pale with dark circles under her eyes, and her hair hastily swept up into a messy bun of sorts.
"A bit early for social calls isn't it, Brother?" she spat.
"Ginny...I..." he stuttered, not quite sure how to begin.
"Save it, Bill. I'm really not interested," she said, taking a seat in an armchair as far away from him as possible, and curling her legs up underneath her.
He ploughed on anyway, saying the first, and most humble thing he could think of in an attempt to make her listen to what he had to say - "I'm sorry, Ginny."
"Sorry?" she asked incredulously, "You're sorry?" Her voice began to crack and he could see tears welling in her eyes. Malfoy chose that moment to place a mug of steaming yellowish liquid in front of Ginny. Squeezing her shoulder, he muttered something in her ear, kissed her cheek and then headed off towards where Bill assumed the bedroom to be located.
The smell coming from Ginny's cup was oddly delicious in an aromatic and vaguely perfumey kind of way, and she picked it up inhaling deeply and sighing shakily as she struggled to control herself. He watched his sister sip the drink for a few moments, desperately scrabbling around in his head for the conversation that he had been planning and mentally rehearsing for weeks.
At length, Ginny spoke again, "What are you really doing here Bill? And more to the point, you do realise that using Gringotts' records to find our address is a flagrant breach of confidentiality, don't you?"
She didn't have to spell out the potential consequences for him to know that she knew them, and he was surprised by his sister's self-assurance and eloquence, which he supposed had a lot to do with being around Malfoy. She was wearing an expectant expression and had raised an eyebrow, challenging him to defend his actions.
He was saved from having to answer by the reappearance of Malfoy, looking every inch the well-groomed, aristocratic businessman Bill had expected to see that morning, instead of the embarrassingly underdressed and clearly harrassed figure that had answered the door. He had felt infinitely awkward when he had arrived, feeling as though seeing Malfoy in Ginny's bathrobe somehow made him more human, more... likeable... than his usual suave and expensive attire, and he had perhaps gained a decidedly uncomfortable insight into one of the reasons why Ginny claimed to love a man that almost everyone in the wizarding world considered repellant.
He was carrying a leather briefcase and headed towards the fireplace.
"I'll see you later, Gin. If I don't drop dead from boredom first, that is."
"Give Conrad my love. Oh, and Draco you have remembered about my appointment haven't you?"
"Of course. I'll meet you at one-thirty in your favourite café. I should be finished with Wilson by about one, if I'm lucky."
Leaning forward and brushing a kiss across her lips, Malfoy then stepped backwards into the fireplace, grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and disappeared in a flash of emerald fire.
Bill released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. The interaction between Ginny and Malfoy - no - Draco, was so easy and unconsciously intimate that not even Ron and Hermione could compare.
"Conrad Wilson? The Conrad Wilson?" Bill blurted, instead of asking the true questions plaguing his brain - What appointment? Was she ill? What was Malfoy doing to her? - she certainly didn't look well.
She raised an eyebrow at him as if to say 'Why is that important and why is it any of your business?'. "He's our solicitor, not that it's any of your business."
Finally getting his brain to work properly, he changed the subject and asked, "Are you alright, Ginny? You don't look very well."
"I'm fine," she snapped. "Get to the point, Bill. Why did you risk your job, and possibly your freedom, to come here?"
"I care about you, Ginny. We care about you, we're your family."
"You lost the right to claim either of those things when you rejected me and the man I love," she retorted coldly, getting up and taking her cup into the kitchen and bringing back a plate with two pieces of dry, cold toast on it.
"Ginny, you have to see it from our point of view; you turn up at the post-wedding bash wearing an engagement ring the size of Gibraltar, calmly announce to the entire family that you - who as far as we were concerned, were completely single - have not only been seeing Draco Malfoy, but sneaked away and married him. Then you promptly Disapparated, having just delivered the emotional equivalent of the Bombardier hex. Can you imagine how hurt Mum and Dad were? And then, to make matters worse, you turn up the next day with said husband in tow, and expect everyone to welcome him with open arms. Well I'm sorry, Ginny, but quite frankly you handled the whole situation appallingly. Can you blame us for being shocked and angry? Did you ever once broach the subject of seeing Malfoy, just to gauge the reaction? Did you ever once stop to consider that if you'd told us about your relationship from the beginning, we might have protested, argued and rebelled, but may well have eventually accepted him? No, you just assumed that we think so little of you that we would have prevented you from seeing him. I have eyes, Gin. I'm not a fool. I've been in your home for thirty minutes and already I can see what the pair of you share. Don't you think that Mum would have seen it too? We were there on that battlefield, Gin. We saw the pair of you together then, and if you think we missed your attempt to cry quietly when he was sentenced, then you're dead wrong. We love you and we miss you, Gin, please come home, this is tearing the family apart."
Ginny had sat in silence all through his diatribe, her head bowed. As he looked at his sister, Bill saw her shoulders shaking and silent tears were dripping onto her toast. He wanted to feel guilty for making her cry, but she needed to hear their side of the situation and he had never been one for pulling punches, none of the Weasley siblings were - that much had been attested to by the gloriously livid bruise that Draco had been given by Fred. He wasn't sure what to do, so he sat there quietly, looking the other way while Ginny dried her tears and threw away her sodden breakfast.
"What do you want me to do, Bill?" she asked when she had returned to her armchair and wrapped herself protectively in Draco's robes. "Do you want me to abandon Draco and return home to be coddled? Because I won't. Til death do us part, remember?"
"I'm not asking you to abandon him, I think we all know how that would turn out, we just want you back. I don't know why you felt it necessary to elope. What was the hurry? Why couldn't you have waited? Mum is heartbroken that she'll never get to plan your wedding." He paused for a moment with his next question, he wasn't sure he really wanted to know the answer. "You weren't... weren't pregnant were you?" he asked, his eyes darting around as though searching for evidence of an infant.
"No," she said shortly, "and why would it matter if I was? I am a grown woman. I'm not a schoolgirl anymore and it would do you well to remember it."
"I know, Gin, don't bite, it was just a question."
She sighed. "I don't know, Bill. It's been six months, I'm not sure that me just turning up on the doorstep is such a good idea, and I can't exactly write a letter can I? Not after what happened."
"No... I suppose not. But Gin, you've got to try. This whole situation has been allowed to get out of hand and has escalated to the point of insanity. Ron keeps bugging Harry to use his contacts in the Ministry, Mum is distraught, Dad spends more time in his shed than ever before, the twins, well the twins seem to alternate between concocting some sort of elaborate 'chance meeting', and joining Ron in badgering Harry. Then there's Percy, Charlie and myself - we all miss you too, not to mention the kids." He neglected to mention the two youngest members of the Weasley clan that Ginny had yet to meet.
She bit her lip and tucked her feet up a little tighter.
"But what about Draco, Bill?" she asked quietly.
"Come on, Gin, you can't expect us to accept him into the family straight away. The main problem I see, is that it is not so much who, as how! - You went behind our backs for years, then upped and married him. Just like that. I feel for you, Gin, I really do. I know very well what it is like to love someone enough to marry them, as, I'm sure, do the rest of the family. So I wouldn't expect you to simply hide his existence and involvement in your life, but please Gin, don't rub salt into an infected wound. Give us time, come back to us and see how it goes. Please? For me?"
"I'll give it some thought," she acceded quietly.
Bill knew he would get nowhere fast if he tried to push her, so he decided that he'd said his piece and that it would be a good time to drop the subject, because he knew that Ginny was stubborn and hardheaded and that if he pursued her for a more definite answer, then he would most likely incur her wrath, and the wrath of the Weasley women was not to be taken lightly.
"Percy tells me you've handed in your notice," he began, lamely. "Got a new job lined up?"
"Depends on your definition of 'job', I suppose," Ginny answered evasively.
There was awkward silence for a few moments before Bill cleared his throat and said "Go on...".
"Well, firstly, Second Assistant Archivist at the Hall of Records was not exactly the perfect job - the pay was crap and the were hours long and boring, I could barely afford to put food on the table, so giving it up isn't exactly a wrench - to be honest, sending my resignation letter was third happiest moment of my adult life."
Bill wasn't sure he wanted to know about the other two.
"Secondly, Draco wants us to move to the Manor, but he wants it completely gutted and redecorated which he wants me to oversee because he wants us to have a fresh start. He's already spoken to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement about having the place swept clean of all traces of Dark Magic, and after that, I get free reign, so I am going to be rather busy with that for the next few months."
"But what about your independence Gin? I thought that that was the reason you moved out in the first place - to get a place of your own and not have to rely on anyone else for money."
"Yes well, things have changed now." She didn't elaborate further, but Bill got the impression that she wasn't only referring to her change in marital status, and wondered how Malfoy had managed to persuade her to sacrifice her self-sufficiency.
"How is everyone?" She asked, trying to affect nonchalance and not succeeding in hiding the homesick tone in her voice.
Bill wasn't sure why, but he was vaguely irritated by her question. How did she think everyone was?
"Mum is devastated, Dad is depressed, Charlie is... Charlie - you know how he is about these things - just pretends it isn't happening, Percy is his usual pompous self, the twins are missing you - Katie and Angelina both had girls and they had hoped you would be their godmother but, well, you know..." he trailed off lamely, with a small shrug. Picking up the thread of his awkwardly interrupted narrative, he said "Ron took it very hard - he's been pestering Harry to use his Auror influences ever since but Harry, being Harry is more sensible than that, Hermione misses you I think - she's pregnant now - did you read the announcement?" He saw Ginny nod her head sadly. "The kids miss you too, Gin - Melissa especially - you know how she's always idolised you. Percy refuses to let your name be mentioned around her in case somehow-or-other she decides that running away and marrying the enemy is a good idea..." He couldn't quite keep the bitterness out of his voice, and she looked up him sharply, scowling.
"Draco isn't the enemy," she snapped.
"Perhaps not now, but up until the end of the war he certainly made a good show of being one."
She glared at him, then got up and headed towards the front door. "Draco's paid his dues. If all you've come here to do is insult my husband, then kindly leave," she said, pulling the door open and gesturing at it with her hand.
Getting up from the sofa, he followed her to the door. "Please Gin, this can't go on. There's a family dinner planned for a week this Sunday. Will you come?"
She stopped dead in her tracks and turned around, crossing her arms over her chest. "I said I'd think about it, and I will. Please don't push me, Bill. I'm worried; what if they turn me away? - I don't think I could stand it."
"We won't, Gin. We are your family and we love you."
She bit her lip and clutched Draco's voluminous robes around her tighter. "Okay then, I'll come," she said finally. "Without Draco ... for the time being," she amended.
He smiled encouragingly at his sister as she held the door open for him. "You know it's what you want, Gin. I'll see you Sunday after next then." Her pensive expression was the last thing he saw as he Disapparated.
To Be Continued.
Myanceris is the author of 10 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 29 members. Members who liked Refraction also liked 922 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 29 members. Members who liked Refraction also liked 922 other stories.
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