. . . . . .
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
- e.e. cummings
. . . . . .
Within a few moments the Malfoys were loaded onto the ferry and on their way back to England. The boat had far fewer occupants than the one that had brought them to France, as many people had already made the crossing and many more were staying in France for the evening. Ginny, yawning and rubbing her eyes, seemed quite pleased to see the nearly empty boat. She took a seat at a corner where two benches intersected and stretched her legs out on the bench in front of her. Draco sat next to her on the other bench, and she promptly laid her head on his shoulder, nestled into his side, and was still.
Though the lights in the ferry were dim, Draco could still make out the strands of gold in Ginny’s auburn hair, and he looked fondly down at the top of her head and at her pale hands, folded demurely in her lap. It had been a long time since anyone had fallen asleep on his shoulder, a long time since anyone had trusted him that much. He’d spent a good portion of his life believing that he was destined to be a destroyer of lives, and later, that he had no destiny at all. But there on that ferry, he could not believe that either of those was true. He had to be worth something as long as he was holding and protecting that sleeping girl.
Somewhere outside the window a foghorn suddenly sounded, far-off but still loud enough to wake Ginny. “Sorry,” Draco said when he felt her stir, though it was not his fault that she had awoken.
“It’s all right,” she murmured sleepily. “How long have we been out?”
“I think we’re about a half-hour from home. Long enough that it’s probably worth going back to sleep, if you’re still tired.”
She lay her head back against his shoulder, as though to do as he suggested, but she didn’t close her eyes. “That was a beautiful ball,” she said after a few moments. “How much did that cost the Ministry?”
“A lot,” he responded wryly.
“A lot,” she repeated sleepily, and yawned. “So tell me, Draco. You were involved in planning this. What was it all about, really?”
“What do you mean?”
She looked up at him then. “You know. Why all the expense? Why France? Why invite law enforcement if this was a diplomatic ball?”
Surprised, he looked down into her curious eyes. “Well, it’s a bit . . . complicated.”
“Is it related to your trip to France last week?”
He blinked. “Yes. It’s- they’re having some trouble with dark wizards.”
She nodded, taking this in. “So how did England get involved?”
“Why are you so curious about this?” Draco asked, a little defensively.
Ginny sat up and turned to face him. “Because it’s been worrying you for weeks, and if it matters that much to you, then it matters to me.”
Not knowing what to say, Draco stalled for a moment, then decided the best course of action was to be honest. After all, it wasn’t as though it was a state secret, or as though she could do any harm with the information. He would tell her, then.
“Well, as I said, the trouble is with dark wizards,” he began, and Ginny settled back down against his shoulder. “There’s always been a small group in France, just like in any country, but then at the end of the first war, there were about . . . I’d say about twenty or thirty people who fled to France. The Ministry was sure that it was because they’d been fighting for Voldemort, but without any hard evidence of this they couldn’t force France to deport any of them, so they just tried to keep close tabs on them.”
“Makes sense,” Ginny said.
“And then some of these suspected Death Eaters returned to England when Voldemort came back to power, although the Ministry was never able to catch any of them doing anything specifically illegal. When Potter destroyed Voldemort, all of the exiles who’d returned, plus quite a few more people, fled back to France. So the Ministry has been very concerned for a while now that France now has an unusually large number of dark wizards, so they’ve spent spies to keep tabs on them. While you and I were in Switzerland, the spies finally managed to confirm that most of the dark wizards in France have formed some kind of group, and that a lot of the British expatriates are also members. They call themselves L’Aube Foncée- it means ‘the dark dawn.’ ”
“Oh, dear.”
“That’s what the spies thought, especially when they found evidence that these wizards have been hoarding food and supplies, enough to make them think they were planning something. Unfortunately they were nearly discovered and barely escaped with their lives. L’Aube Foncée is suspicious now, and we haven’t been able to get any more spies past their security.”
“So you’re trying to get France to help you, because it’s on their soil.”
“Exactly. But France never experienced Voldemort, so they haven’t dealt with a dark wizard since Grindelwald, and not many people remember what that was like. So without the memory fresh in their minds, they aren’t as strongly against dark magic as the British Ministry is. We’ve had a hard time convincing them that this group is worth their energy.”
“So that’s why you spent all that time talking to their president.”
“He’s still not convinced. When the visit ended and we could see he wasn’t going to do as much about it as we’d like, Dippet came up with the idea of the ball, where Ministry employees could mingle with all levels of the French government and get them informed about the threat.”
Ginny nodded. “Do you think it worked?”
“I hope so,” Draco said softly, and his wife curled in closer to him.
“I had no idea the work you did was so serious,” she said after a moment. “I always figured it was all parties and shaking hands.”
“Well now you know how important your husband is,” Draco said with mock seriousness. He paused. “You know that information I just told you is to be kept secret, right? No spreading it around to all of your friends?”
“Of course.” She yawned. “Besides, they’d never believe you’re that important.”
“Shut your mouth and go to sleep, Weasel.”
She laughed and closed her eyes. She was still for so long that he thought she’d fallen asleep, but then she suddenly spoke. “Thanks for saving us from the dark wizards, Draco.”
“You’re welcome, Gin.” And he looked out the window to watch the lights of Dover glistening out across the black water.
The Malfoys didn’t reach home until after two, and Draco, exhausted, slept so long the next morning that he barely had time to shower and get dressed before lunch was served. Fortunately, doing his weekly check of the grounds got him moving, and by the time he and Ginny were expected at Elise and James’s house, he was feeling wide awake.
When the Malfoys were shown into the Stewarts’ sitting room, Ginny immediately crossed the room to greet Elise, who was waiting with her usual hug. Draco smiled as he watched his wife and his friend, who were so obviously attached to each other. It just seemed perfectly right.
Elise then showed the Malfoys to the sofa, and Draco noticed that she was suppressing a smile- in fact she seemed to bursting with some hidden secret. But instead of explaining what that might be, she asked Draco and Ginny how they’d enjoyed the ball.
“It was so fun!” Ginny laughed. “It was like something out of a story book.”
“And fortunately we weren’t lacking in Prince Charmings,” Elise joked. “Did you see that Russian fellow?”
“Quite fit,” Ginny agreed.
“You know, we’re sitting right here,” James said drily.
“Yes, and I still like you best,” Elise said comfortingly.
“And of course when we were talking about handsome men, we were including you two in that list,” Ginny said, smiling at Draco.
“You say that now,” Draco said, but he was smiling too.
“How did you enjoy the dancing?” James asked Ginny.
“That was hard!” she responded earnestly. “I mean, it was fun, of course, but I’ve never really danced like that before. It was exhausting!”
“And you spent most of the evening dancing,” Elise pointed out.
Reminded of how Ginny had smiled while dancing with those other men, Draco experienced another of those stabs of irritation he’d felt all that night, which is probably what led him to comment nonchalantly, “Yes, it cost me quite a bit to pay all those men, but it was worth it when I saw how you enjoyed dancing with them.”
Ginny stared at him. “You’re so amusing, Mr. Malfoy,” she said, clearly annoyed.
“Yes, and luckily you’re very forgiving, Mrs. Malfoy,” he replied, smiling sweetly at her, and she swatted his arm and turned back to Elise and James.
“And how did you two enjoy the evening?”
The little group talked for a few minutes longer until tea was brought in, which Draco drank with relish. He and Ginny had been meeting Elise and James for tea every few weeks since their marriage, and Draco enjoyed it quite a bit, for the conversation, for the companionship, but especially for the Stewarts’ tea. He had no idea what their house elves did, but it alone made the whole visit worth it.
Once tea was done and the tea things were cleared away, Draco saw Elise glance over at James, who smiled back in understanding. “What is it?” Draco asked.
“Well,” James smiled, “we have an announcement.”
“We just found out this morning and we wanted you to be the first to know!” Elise gushed.
James looked at his wife. “Except our parents.”
“Well, except our parents. Of course we already told them. But we want you to be the second to know!”
Draco listened to Elise’s rambling, wondering what she could be talking about. Glancing over at Ginny, he saw that she was smiling a little, as though she had guessed what the Stewarts were about to say. He looked back at Elise.
But she simply took James’s hand, and it was he who smiled at the Malfoys and said, “We’re going to have a baby.”
In the same amount of time it took for Draco’s mind to process this statement, Ginny had launched herself off the sofa and thrown her arms around Elise, who had stood as though anticipating the onslaught. The two women began laughing and talking too fast for Draco to follow, so he just shrugged and stood from the couch to face James. “Congratulations,” he said.
He reached out and they shook hands, and then James, quiet, reserved James, pulled Draco into hug. Draco, too shocked to do anything but stand there dumbly, suddenly heard laughter and saw that Elise and Ginny were watching them and smiling.
“Boys,” said Elise with amusement, and Ginny nodded in agreement.
And then Elise had to hug Draco and Ginny had to hug James, and then Ginny asked if Elise wanted a boy or a girl- “Both! I want twins!”- and then Elise offered to show the Malfoys the room they wanted to use for a nursery. Ginny agreed immediately and the two women ran upstairs, leaving their husbands to follow at a more leisurely pace.
“So,” Draco said to James, wondering what, besides “congratulations,” one man ought to say to another man who was about to become a father.
“So,” James agreed, a smile on his face.
“That’s exciting.”
“I know. Elise was always so excited to have children.”
“I remember,” Draco laughed. “She wanted twenty. How about you?”
James chuckled. “Twenty might be excessive, but I wouldn’t mind having a big family.”
Draco hesitated. He didn’t want to rain on the Stewarts’ parade, but he couldn’t help asking, “Aren’t you at all worried? I mean, you’re an only child. You’ve never dealt with a baby before.”
“I’m terrified,” James replied jovially. “And I’m sure it’s going to be hard. But some things are worth making the effort.”
Draco smiled. “Well, congratulations again. I’m happy for you both.”
And quiet James smiled again.
They reached the room destined to be the nursery and found Elise deeply involved in a long explanation of what they intended to do to prepare the room for the new arrival. Draco’s eyes were automatically drawn to his wife, who was following Elise around the room. She was clearly excited for her friend, but in her eyes he saw something else, a kind of wistfulness that surprised him. She wanted this for herself someday, he could see. She’d mentioned it a time or two before, and given her upbringing and large family it was not at all surprising, but even if he hadn’t known beforehand that having a family was important to her he would know it know, with absolute certainty, from the veiled longing in her eyes as she listened to her friend discuss her plans.
Well, she deserved it, and she would be a wonderful mother someday, someday when she had “found that someone she couldn’t live without,”as she had once said, someday in the future when she had walked out of Malfoy Manor and left him behind forever. The thought made Draco pause. He hadn’t thought about that inevitable day in a long time. He’d agreed on their year-and-a-half limit, of course, had even been pleased to have a way out of the marriage. But that was back when Ginny was just an acquaintance who’d happened to be in the right place at the right time. Things had changed since then. Now she was a friend, a close one, and as he watched her walk slowly around the room, he realized with a strange pang of sorrow that he’d miss her when she was gone.
“And that’s it,” Elise was finishing. “It’s an ambitious plan, I know, but we have a lot of time to get it done.”
“Before you get too fat to be able to move around comfortably,” said Draco.
Elise laughed, clearly seeing that it was a joke, but Ginny just covered her eyes with her hand. “Draco, could you possibly be any less tactful?”
“I could, but I think it would just make you mad.”
She shook her head. “Just keep pushing, Malfoy.”
“You know I will,” Draco said with a sweet smile. And then, still feeling pensive, he found himself adding mentally, At least, until you’re gone.
. . . . . .
They stayed at the Stewarts until the house elves had set dinner out, and then Ginny and Draco Apparated home to eat their own dinner. Draco didn’t say a lot during the meal, as usual, but Ginny didn’t mind, being somewhat lost in her thoughts as she was. Elise was going to be a mother! She couldn’t be more thrilled for her friend, but imagining Elise smiling as her first child was put into her arms, while a joyful thought, only served to remind Ginny that she, despite being married, seemed to be even further from her dream of having a family than she had been in her childhood.
Still, there was no sense worrying about it now. If it was going to happen, it would happen, eventually, and until then she could focus on other things in her life, things that having children would hinder. Cheered by the thought, she excused herself from the table and went to her room to write Luna.
Once the letter was finished and sent off, she sat at her desk a while, looking out her window and thinking about Elise and James. How pleased they must be to be having a child, whom they could love and care for and who could carry on the family name!
The thought triggered a memory suddenly, one that she hadn’t thought of in months, of something Draco had said to her, something rather out of character for him. He’d only mentioned it in passing, but it seemed so strange to her now- so unlike him. She tried to think about writing a letter to Hermione, but the memory plagued her until she decided that the only thing to do for it now was to ask Draco about it. So she went downstairs.
She found him out back sitting on the kitchen steps, apparently deep in thought, staring out at the clouds that were just beginning to be touched with orange as the sun descended toward the horizon. Once she would have been afraid to bother him when he was in such a brown study, but now she dropped down beside him without second thought. His only response was to scoot over to make room for her, and she settled down in to him. They sat that way for some time, both content to stay silent and gaze at the sky, where Apollo’s chariot was galloping toward home.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked finally.
“No, I won’t go out with you,” he answered immediately. “I’m already married.”
“You’d better say that,” she laughed. “Can I ask another question?”
He shrugged, and she took a moment to collect her thoughts, wondering just how to phrase her question. It was an odd one, she knew, but she wanted to know. Finally she spoke. “When you were first trying to marry me, why did you want me to bear you an heir? I mean, why would you want your own child to be half Weasley? You hate us.”
His gaze was still fixed on the trees stretching out before them. “I need an heir,” he said lazily, shrugging, “and the inheritance laws are much easier to deal with when the child is legitimate.”
“Legitimate?” Ginny repeated.
“Yes, legitimate,” he replied, casting an amused glance at her out of the corner of his eye. “It means-”
”I know what it means,” Ginny cut in, and he grinned wryly. “What I don’t get is why you’d want the child to be mine. Why not wait until we’re divorced and you’ve married someone you really care about?”
“Ah, that’s what you’re asking,” Draco said. “Why not with wife number two?”
“Well . . . yes. Why wouldn’t you rather have her have your child?”
He looked directly at her then, his cool eyes fixed on hers for so long that she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then, as though he’d made his decision, he looked away and began to speak. “When I originally proposed this . . . marriage of convenience, I intended not to marry after you and I had said goodbye,” he admitted. She raised her eyebrows and he shook his head. “That’s not as sentimental as it sounds,” he explained. “What I mean is that I never intended to get married at all. They only reason I could see to do so was to have a son to pass the name and money on to.”
“But you proposed to me,” Ginny pointed out.
“You know my reasons for that,” he said. “And it seemed perfect- if you’d gotten pregnant, I would have been done with all my duties concerning marriage.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to get married?” Ginny asked. “Everyone wants to get married.”
“Well, I personally have never been all that impressed with the institution,” Draco replied.
“But you said you’d have married Pansy if she hadn’t cheated on you.”
“Well, maybe my disillusionment with marriage is a more recent development, then,” he said with an offhanded shrug, but Ginny caught something in his tone that made her pause.
Casting her mind back to the party at the Stewarts and their conversation on the roof, she asked, “Do you dislike marriage because it didn’t save your parents?”
He seemed struck by that, and Ginny wondered if he was simply surprised she remembered him saying that. It had to be more than that, though; he was looking at her with his brow furrowed, and several times he took a breath as though to speak and then released it agin. He looked so troubled that Ginny felt sorry she’d brought it up. “You don’t have to answer,” she said.
He shook his head. “No, I want you to understand.” He smiled stiffly. “Besides, they’re your family too.” He seemed agitated, which was strange for Ginny, who’d never seen him make any unnecessary gesture. So it was no surprise to her when he stood and held out his hand. “Come walk with me,” he commanded.
She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet, and they began to walk together down the path to the north meadow, Draco staring intently ahead and Ginny unconsciously flexing the hand that had just been in his.
They were both silent for a long time, but Ginny was content simply to feel the evening breeze, to enjoy the beautiful sunset, to walk by Draco’s side. It pained her to see him troubled, but she couldn’t help noticing that he looked quite handsome when he was so serious, though the intense contemplation on his face now was nothing compared to the beauty of his smile when he was laughing, truly laughing with untainted, childlike joy.
At this moment, though, he seemed miles from laughing. She wanted to know what weighed so heavily on his mind, but she waited, sure that he would speak when he was ready to.
And he did. “The thing you have to understand,” he said very suddenly, “is that my mother was never a Death Eater. Of course, being a Black, she had her opinions on Muggles and Muggleborns, but she could never come to terms with Voldemort’s methods.” He spoke rather haltingly, as though this was the first time he’d put these thoughts into words, and Ginny wondered if she was the first person he’d ever said this to. “Voldemort tried to get my father to persuade her, of course, but she refused and Father would never have dreamed of forcing her.” He paused, a wistful smile on his face. “He had his faults, but he always loved Mother desperately. He’d have given her the world if she’d asked for it.”
Ginny, smiling absently, wrapped her arms around herself and wondered if Draco had ever known anyone he’d be willing to give the world to.
“So he always told Voldemort that Mother wouldn’t join. He told him that she couldn’t stomach the killing, and Voldemort bought that.” He paused suddenly. “It doesn’t bother you when I say ‘Voldemort,’ does it?”
It was an understandable question; many people still refused to say his name, even though Voldemort had been irreversibly destroyed five years earlier. But Ginny had been a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and she’d unwittingly been a close personal friend of the young Voldemort, and she shook her head. “Me and Voldemort go way back,” she joked somewhat weakly.
Draco looked at her closely as though reading her thoughts. “That’s true. I’d forgotten.” He peered at her again and seemed to be about to say something, but then he simply continued his story. “So Mother never became a Death Eater. But-” he sighed a little- “but she still supported the Dark Lord, because my father did, and she was so devoted to him that she convinced herself that Voldemort wasn’t so bad. She became very good at only seeing those parts of the dark side that she could rationalize away and excuse. I mean, I think she really always knew deep down that she disagreed with Voldemort, but she could never disagree with my father, so she always supported his work with the Death Eaters.”
Ginny shrugged a little. “She loved him. It makes people do crazy things.”
Draco gave her a tight smile. “I guess so.” He was silent a moment, then: “Do you remember the raid on the Parley house?”
Ginny nodded. “Beginning of the second war, right? I was still in school then.”
“I was on my way home from a trip to the Continent. After I graduated school I spent a few months working for a family friend’s law office, and then my father sent me on a trip to Europe- Romania, Bulgaria, Greece- all the countries where dark magic isn’t illegal. He was trying to get me more interested in dark magic.”
“Did it work?” It was a forward question, she knew, but she had to know. Besides, she might never get another chance. Draco was never this open about the war, or his father or the Dark Lord. It was an unspoken rule that they never talked about any of it. Ever since that first night of their marriage, when she’d angered him so by asking why he’d turned to the good side, they’d carefully avoided any discussion of Voldemort or Death Eaters or the Order of the Phoenix. It was strange that he’d suddenly changed the rules.
Draco smirked half-heartedly. “I was intrigued, but . . .” Here he paused. “But for a long time I hadn’t been sure that I wanted to join Voldemort. My dad knew this, which is why he decided to send me on the trip. Anyway I didn’t get back to England until the day after the attack, so everything I’m saying is based on what other people have told me- mostly Severus Snape, but it was all confirmed by people in the Order. Basically, the way I understand it is that Voldemort was meeting with his inner circle of Death Eaters, and he had them all bring their wives along, so he could talk to them and make sure they were loyal to him. So my parents both went.”
“The meeting was held at Nolan Parley’s house in Devon, because it was secluded and because the Order didn’t know that Parley had joined the Death Eaters. And they hid the house and made my father the secret keeper, and Voldemort himself cast an anti-Apparating spell so no one could pop in and surprise them. But what they didn’t count on was that one of their guards had decided to turn on them.”
“Ah,” said Ginny.
“His name was Edward Stein. He was a friend of Parley’s and they both joined at the same time, but as Stein got in deeper he realized he’d gotten in over his head. He wanted out, so he started trading information to the Order in return for protection.”
“And he was one of the people your father revealed the house’s secret location to?” Ginny guessed.
“The Death Eaters were always careful when they told anyone a secret like that. But they told Stein because he was acting as a guard, because he knew the layout of Parley’s land. And when the guard he was partnered with got bored and dozed off, Stein managed to get a message to the Order without anyone noticing, and then when the Order showed up he faked his capture.”
“Clever,” Ginny commented.
“And then they attacked the house. Snape was there, of course, pretending to fight the Order, and he said the security around the house was a little heavier than the Order had expected, and they were so busy fighting guards that a lot of the important Death Eaters and their wives managed to get away. But they did capture a lot of the guards.”
“I’d heard it was a successful raid,” Ginny said, and wondered both where Draco could be going with this story and why remembering it was upsetting him so- she’d lived with Draco long enough to know that the more upset he was the more calm he appeared to be, and right then he was very, very tranquil.
“My parents would have gotten away too, except for Voldemort. The Death Eaters who had brought their wives were all trying to slip away to the back of the house, where the women were in a sitting room, and then most of them managed to escape out the back and run to the edge of the land where they could Apparate. But my mother-” He stopped and shook his head. “Mother never brought her wand anywhere. She said it was an inconvenience to carry, and besides wherever she went she was waited on hand on foot, by my father or servants or waiters. Without her wand she couldn’t Apparate out of the house. One of the other couples offered to take her with them, but she just told them that she knew Lucius would come for her.”
Ginny bit her tongue, her immediate response of “Did he?” dying on her lips as she looked at Draco’s emotionless face and decided she already knew the answer to that question.
Draco was continuing. “To his credit, Father started trying to fight his way to Mother as soon as the Order attacked, but back in the hallway Voldemort grabbed him. He’d run out of the room and was hiding under his Invisibility Cloak, and he told my father to come with him, because he’d hidden an exit in a back room and he wanted my father to lay cover for him while he escaped.”
Draco paused, his narrowed eyes the only thing in his calm face that gave away what Ginny instinctively sensed was great inner turmoil. “My father never admitted this to me, of course, but Snape was nearby and he overheard and told me later. He didn’t want to tell me all this about my father, of course, but I wouldn’t rest until I knew.” His speech was precise and carefully controlled, and Ginny found herself wanting to take his hand comfortingly in hers.
“Snape did say my father argued with Voldemort, but then Voldemort insisted and said that if my father wanted to keep his position among the Death Eaters, he had to go with him right then.” They’d reached the northern meadow, and Draco stopped walking, glaring out across the lazily waving grass at the copse of trees on the other side, and Ginny knew what he was about to say. “And he did. My father left with Voldemort. I think he was figuring that the Ministry would realize that my mother wasn’t a Death Eater and they’d let her go. And they would have done, but . . .”
“But?” Ginny prompted gently.
The sun was beginning to set among the hills, and Draco moved to the edge of the path, staring transfixedly at the orange glow. Ginny moved carefully to stand near him, staring up at his too-calm face, afraid of missing a single word coming from his mouth.
“Snape tried to get back to my mother, but some of the Order and the Death Eaters had realized that Voldemort had disappeared and they were running down the hall trying to find him. By the time Snape reached the back of the house Kingsley Shacklebolt was already there fighting Bellatrix Lestrange, and Mother was hiding in the corner. Tonks was there, too, and she and Snape feigned a fight to keep up Snape’s cover story. Aunt Bellatrix and Shacklebolt were both fighting like mad, and their curses were ricocheting all over the place. And then-”
He stopped then, his lips white as stared unseeingly at the horizon, and Ginny felt she knew what was coming next. She waited for him to speak, and it wasn’t she heard him inhale that she realized that she was holding her breath.
“No one knows who cast the curse, although it was Avada Kedavra so it was probably Bellatrix. All they know is that suddenly Tonks was shouting ‘Aunt Narcissa’ and Mother-” He broke off and appeared to be struggling for the words. Ginny shook her head, not exactly knowing what she meant by it. Draco took a breath. “And Mother was dead.”
“Draco-” Ginny began softly.
“Father always insisted it wasn’t his fault, but I think deep down he felt it was. Things were never the same between us after that. I helped bury Mother and the next day I joined the Order of the Phoenix.” His jaw clenched, ever so slightly, and he stared even more determinedly at the sunset.
Ginny released the breath she’d been holding. So that was his reason, then. It was such a tragic story- no wonder he didn’t like to talk about it. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to put her arms around him and tell him that it was going to be all right, that she was there for him and that she always would be, whenever he needed her.
But his stoic posture invited no comfort, and instead she found herself saying, “So that’s why you don’t believe in marriage.”
He gave a strained smirk, still not looking at her. “They were married for twenty years, and he gave that up so that he could keep being Voldemort’s lapdog.”
“Voldemort can be very persuasive,” Ginny said softly. Then, louder: “But that’s only one marriage. Why not consider other marriages, ones that have lasted?”
“I don’t need to. You don’t know how Mother and Father were when they were together. No two people could have been more in love than they were. And in the end she died for their marriage and he gave it up for power.”
She wasn’t used to the bitter tinge in his voice, and something about it made her curl her hand around his wrist and lean her forehead against his shoulder. The muscles there were tense, and she could feel him trembling ever so slightly as he said, “I don’t know if he could have saved her, but he should have tried. He should have done anything for her.” And then she felt him relax quite suddenly. “I miss her so much, Gin.”
She looked up at him then, her hand still around his arm. All his anger was spent and he was standing quite still, the last rays of the sun playing over his resigned face. He looked nothing so much as weary, and as she looked up at his grey eyes, which for the first time in her memory were showing true sorrow, she knew with sudden clarity what she had been refusing to admit to herself for weeks now: that she loved him. With that knowledge came both despair and a curious sense of freedom.
They stood together in the meadow until the sun had vanished behind the hills and the darkening sky was painted with stars. Then without words they turned and walked back to the house, each lost deep in thought, and high above them the stars shone on.
. . . . . .
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
- e.e. cummings
. . . . . .
Within a few moments the Malfoys were loaded onto the ferry and on their way back to England. The boat had far fewer occupants than the one that had brought them to France, as many people had already made the crossing and many more were staying in France for the evening. Ginny, yawning and rubbing her eyes, seemed quite pleased to see the nearly empty boat. She took a seat at a corner where two benches intersected and stretched her legs out on the bench in front of her. Draco sat next to her on the other bench, and she promptly laid her head on his shoulder, nestled into his side, and was still.
Though the lights in the ferry were dim, Draco could still make out the strands of gold in Ginny’s auburn hair, and he looked fondly down at the top of her head and at her pale hands, folded demurely in her lap. It had been a long time since anyone had fallen asleep on his shoulder, a long time since anyone had trusted him that much. He’d spent a good portion of his life believing that he was destined to be a destroyer of lives, and later, that he had no destiny at all. But there on that ferry, he could not believe that either of those was true. He had to be worth something as long as he was holding and protecting that sleeping girl.
Somewhere outside the window a foghorn suddenly sounded, far-off but still loud enough to wake Ginny. “Sorry,” Draco said when he felt her stir, though it was not his fault that she had awoken.
“It’s all right,” she murmured sleepily. “How long have we been out?”
“I think we’re about a half-hour from home. Long enough that it’s probably worth going back to sleep, if you’re still tired.”
She lay her head back against his shoulder, as though to do as he suggested, but she didn’t close her eyes. “That was a beautiful ball,” she said after a few moments. “How much did that cost the Ministry?”
“A lot,” he responded wryly.
“A lot,” she repeated sleepily, and yawned. “So tell me, Draco. You were involved in planning this. What was it all about, really?”
“What do you mean?”
She looked up at him then. “You know. Why all the expense? Why France? Why invite law enforcement if this was a diplomatic ball?”
Surprised, he looked down into her curious eyes. “Well, it’s a bit . . . complicated.”
“Is it related to your trip to France last week?”
He blinked. “Yes. It’s- they’re having some trouble with dark wizards.”
She nodded, taking this in. “So how did England get involved?”
“Why are you so curious about this?” Draco asked, a little defensively.
Ginny sat up and turned to face him. “Because it’s been worrying you for weeks, and if it matters that much to you, then it matters to me.”
Not knowing what to say, Draco stalled for a moment, then decided the best course of action was to be honest. After all, it wasn’t as though it was a state secret, or as though she could do any harm with the information. He would tell her, then.
“Well, as I said, the trouble is with dark wizards,” he began, and Ginny settled back down against his shoulder. “There’s always been a small group in France, just like in any country, but then at the end of the first war, there were about . . . I’d say about twenty or thirty people who fled to France. The Ministry was sure that it was because they’d been fighting for Voldemort, but without any hard evidence of this they couldn’t force France to deport any of them, so they just tried to keep close tabs on them.”
“Makes sense,” Ginny said.
“And then some of these suspected Death Eaters returned to England when Voldemort came back to power, although the Ministry was never able to catch any of them doing anything specifically illegal. When Potter destroyed Voldemort, all of the exiles who’d returned, plus quite a few more people, fled back to France. So the Ministry has been very concerned for a while now that France now has an unusually large number of dark wizards, so they’ve spent spies to keep tabs on them. While you and I were in Switzerland, the spies finally managed to confirm that most of the dark wizards in France have formed some kind of group, and that a lot of the British expatriates are also members. They call themselves L’Aube Foncée- it means ‘the dark dawn.’ ”
“Oh, dear.”
“That’s what the spies thought, especially when they found evidence that these wizards have been hoarding food and supplies, enough to make them think they were planning something. Unfortunately they were nearly discovered and barely escaped with their lives. L’Aube Foncée is suspicious now, and we haven’t been able to get any more spies past their security.”
“So you’re trying to get France to help you, because it’s on their soil.”
“Exactly. But France never experienced Voldemort, so they haven’t dealt with a dark wizard since Grindelwald, and not many people remember what that was like. So without the memory fresh in their minds, they aren’t as strongly against dark magic as the British Ministry is. We’ve had a hard time convincing them that this group is worth their energy.”
“So that’s why you spent all that time talking to their president.”
“He’s still not convinced. When the visit ended and we could see he wasn’t going to do as much about it as we’d like, Dippet came up with the idea of the ball, where Ministry employees could mingle with all levels of the French government and get them informed about the threat.”
Ginny nodded. “Do you think it worked?”
“I hope so,” Draco said softly, and his wife curled in closer to him.
“I had no idea the work you did was so serious,” she said after a moment. “I always figured it was all parties and shaking hands.”
“Well now you know how important your husband is,” Draco said with mock seriousness. He paused. “You know that information I just told you is to be kept secret, right? No spreading it around to all of your friends?”
“Of course.” She yawned. “Besides, they’d never believe you’re that important.”
“Shut your mouth and go to sleep, Weasel.”
She laughed and closed her eyes. She was still for so long that he thought she’d fallen asleep, but then she suddenly spoke. “Thanks for saving us from the dark wizards, Draco.”
“You’re welcome, Gin.” And he looked out the window to watch the lights of Dover glistening out across the black water.
The Malfoys didn’t reach home until after two, and Draco, exhausted, slept so long the next morning that he barely had time to shower and get dressed before lunch was served. Fortunately, doing his weekly check of the grounds got him moving, and by the time he and Ginny were expected at Elise and James’s house, he was feeling wide awake.
When the Malfoys were shown into the Stewarts’ sitting room, Ginny immediately crossed the room to greet Elise, who was waiting with her usual hug. Draco smiled as he watched his wife and his friend, who were so obviously attached to each other. It just seemed perfectly right.
Elise then showed the Malfoys to the sofa, and Draco noticed that she was suppressing a smile- in fact she seemed to bursting with some hidden secret. But instead of explaining what that might be, she asked Draco and Ginny how they’d enjoyed the ball.
“It was so fun!” Ginny laughed. “It was like something out of a story book.”
“And fortunately we weren’t lacking in Prince Charmings,” Elise joked. “Did you see that Russian fellow?”
“Quite fit,” Ginny agreed.
“You know, we’re sitting right here,” James said drily.
“Yes, and I still like you best,” Elise said comfortingly.
“And of course when we were talking about handsome men, we were including you two in that list,” Ginny said, smiling at Draco.
“You say that now,” Draco said, but he was smiling too.
“How did you enjoy the dancing?” James asked Ginny.
“That was hard!” she responded earnestly. “I mean, it was fun, of course, but I’ve never really danced like that before. It was exhausting!”
“And you spent most of the evening dancing,” Elise pointed out.
Reminded of how Ginny had smiled while dancing with those other men, Draco experienced another of those stabs of irritation he’d felt all that night, which is probably what led him to comment nonchalantly, “Yes, it cost me quite a bit to pay all those men, but it was worth it when I saw how you enjoyed dancing with them.”
Ginny stared at him. “You’re so amusing, Mr. Malfoy,” she said, clearly annoyed.
“Yes, and luckily you’re very forgiving, Mrs. Malfoy,” he replied, smiling sweetly at her, and she swatted his arm and turned back to Elise and James.
“And how did you two enjoy the evening?”
The little group talked for a few minutes longer until tea was brought in, which Draco drank with relish. He and Ginny had been meeting Elise and James for tea every few weeks since their marriage, and Draco enjoyed it quite a bit, for the conversation, for the companionship, but especially for the Stewarts’ tea. He had no idea what their house elves did, but it alone made the whole visit worth it.
Once tea was done and the tea things were cleared away, Draco saw Elise glance over at James, who smiled back in understanding. “What is it?” Draco asked.
“Well,” James smiled, “we have an announcement.”
“We just found out this morning and we wanted you to be the first to know!” Elise gushed.
James looked at his wife. “Except our parents.”
“Well, except our parents. Of course we already told them. But we want you to be the second to know!”
Draco listened to Elise’s rambling, wondering what she could be talking about. Glancing over at Ginny, he saw that she was smiling a little, as though she had guessed what the Stewarts were about to say. He looked back at Elise.
But she simply took James’s hand, and it was he who smiled at the Malfoys and said, “We’re going to have a baby.”
In the same amount of time it took for Draco’s mind to process this statement, Ginny had launched herself off the sofa and thrown her arms around Elise, who had stood as though anticipating the onslaught. The two women began laughing and talking too fast for Draco to follow, so he just shrugged and stood from the couch to face James. “Congratulations,” he said.
He reached out and they shook hands, and then James, quiet, reserved James, pulled Draco into hug. Draco, too shocked to do anything but stand there dumbly, suddenly heard laughter and saw that Elise and Ginny were watching them and smiling.
“Boys,” said Elise with amusement, and Ginny nodded in agreement.
And then Elise had to hug Draco and Ginny had to hug James, and then Ginny asked if Elise wanted a boy or a girl- “Both! I want twins!”- and then Elise offered to show the Malfoys the room they wanted to use for a nursery. Ginny agreed immediately and the two women ran upstairs, leaving their husbands to follow at a more leisurely pace.
“So,” Draco said to James, wondering what, besides “congratulations,” one man ought to say to another man who was about to become a father.
“So,” James agreed, a smile on his face.
“That’s exciting.”
“I know. Elise was always so excited to have children.”
“I remember,” Draco laughed. “She wanted twenty. How about you?”
James chuckled. “Twenty might be excessive, but I wouldn’t mind having a big family.”
Draco hesitated. He didn’t want to rain on the Stewarts’ parade, but he couldn’t help asking, “Aren’t you at all worried? I mean, you’re an only child. You’ve never dealt with a baby before.”
“I’m terrified,” James replied jovially. “And I’m sure it’s going to be hard. But some things are worth making the effort.”
Draco smiled. “Well, congratulations again. I’m happy for you both.”
And quiet James smiled again.
They reached the room destined to be the nursery and found Elise deeply involved in a long explanation of what they intended to do to prepare the room for the new arrival. Draco’s eyes were automatically drawn to his wife, who was following Elise around the room. She was clearly excited for her friend, but in her eyes he saw something else, a kind of wistfulness that surprised him. She wanted this for herself someday, he could see. She’d mentioned it a time or two before, and given her upbringing and large family it was not at all surprising, but even if he hadn’t known beforehand that having a family was important to her he would know it know, with absolute certainty, from the veiled longing in her eyes as she listened to her friend discuss her plans.
Well, she deserved it, and she would be a wonderful mother someday, someday when she had “found that someone she couldn’t live without,”as she had once said, someday in the future when she had walked out of Malfoy Manor and left him behind forever. The thought made Draco pause. He hadn’t thought about that inevitable day in a long time. He’d agreed on their year-and-a-half limit, of course, had even been pleased to have a way out of the marriage. But that was back when Ginny was just an acquaintance who’d happened to be in the right place at the right time. Things had changed since then. Now she was a friend, a close one, and as he watched her walk slowly around the room, he realized with a strange pang of sorrow that he’d miss her when she was gone.
“And that’s it,” Elise was finishing. “It’s an ambitious plan, I know, but we have a lot of time to get it done.”
“Before you get too fat to be able to move around comfortably,” said Draco.
Elise laughed, clearly seeing that it was a joke, but Ginny just covered her eyes with her hand. “Draco, could you possibly be any less tactful?”
“I could, but I think it would just make you mad.”
She shook her head. “Just keep pushing, Malfoy.”
“You know I will,” Draco said with a sweet smile. And then, still feeling pensive, he found himself adding mentally, At least, until you’re gone.
. . . . . .
They stayed at the Stewarts until the house elves had set dinner out, and then Ginny and Draco Apparated home to eat their own dinner. Draco didn’t say a lot during the meal, as usual, but Ginny didn’t mind, being somewhat lost in her thoughts as she was. Elise was going to be a mother! She couldn’t be more thrilled for her friend, but imagining Elise smiling as her first child was put into her arms, while a joyful thought, only served to remind Ginny that she, despite being married, seemed to be even further from her dream of having a family than she had been in her childhood.
Still, there was no sense worrying about it now. If it was going to happen, it would happen, eventually, and until then she could focus on other things in her life, things that having children would hinder. Cheered by the thought, she excused herself from the table and went to her room to write Luna.
Once the letter was finished and sent off, she sat at her desk a while, looking out her window and thinking about Elise and James. How pleased they must be to be having a child, whom they could love and care for and who could carry on the family name!
The thought triggered a memory suddenly, one that she hadn’t thought of in months, of something Draco had said to her, something rather out of character for him. He’d only mentioned it in passing, but it seemed so strange to her now- so unlike him. She tried to think about writing a letter to Hermione, but the memory plagued her until she decided that the only thing to do for it now was to ask Draco about it. So she went downstairs.
She found him out back sitting on the kitchen steps, apparently deep in thought, staring out at the clouds that were just beginning to be touched with orange as the sun descended toward the horizon. Once she would have been afraid to bother him when he was in such a brown study, but now she dropped down beside him without second thought. His only response was to scoot over to make room for her, and she settled down in to him. They sat that way for some time, both content to stay silent and gaze at the sky, where Apollo’s chariot was galloping toward home.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked finally.
“No, I won’t go out with you,” he answered immediately. “I’m already married.”
“You’d better say that,” she laughed. “Can I ask another question?”
He shrugged, and she took a moment to collect her thoughts, wondering just how to phrase her question. It was an odd one, she knew, but she wanted to know. Finally she spoke. “When you were first trying to marry me, why did you want me to bear you an heir? I mean, why would you want your own child to be half Weasley? You hate us.”
His gaze was still fixed on the trees stretching out before them. “I need an heir,” he said lazily, shrugging, “and the inheritance laws are much easier to deal with when the child is legitimate.”
“Legitimate?” Ginny repeated.
“Yes, legitimate,” he replied, casting an amused glance at her out of the corner of his eye. “It means-”
”I know what it means,” Ginny cut in, and he grinned wryly. “What I don’t get is why you’d want the child to be mine. Why not wait until we’re divorced and you’ve married someone you really care about?”
“Ah, that’s what you’re asking,” Draco said. “Why not with wife number two?”
“Well . . . yes. Why wouldn’t you rather have her have your child?”
He looked directly at her then, his cool eyes fixed on hers for so long that she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then, as though he’d made his decision, he looked away and began to speak. “When I originally proposed this . . . marriage of convenience, I intended not to marry after you and I had said goodbye,” he admitted. She raised her eyebrows and he shook his head. “That’s not as sentimental as it sounds,” he explained. “What I mean is that I never intended to get married at all. They only reason I could see to do so was to have a son to pass the name and money on to.”
“But you proposed to me,” Ginny pointed out.
“You know my reasons for that,” he said. “And it seemed perfect- if you’d gotten pregnant, I would have been done with all my duties concerning marriage.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to get married?” Ginny asked. “Everyone wants to get married.”
“Well, I personally have never been all that impressed with the institution,” Draco replied.
“But you said you’d have married Pansy if she hadn’t cheated on you.”
“Well, maybe my disillusionment with marriage is a more recent development, then,” he said with an offhanded shrug, but Ginny caught something in his tone that made her pause.
Casting her mind back to the party at the Stewarts and their conversation on the roof, she asked, “Do you dislike marriage because it didn’t save your parents?”
He seemed struck by that, and Ginny wondered if he was simply surprised she remembered him saying that. It had to be more than that, though; he was looking at her with his brow furrowed, and several times he took a breath as though to speak and then released it agin. He looked so troubled that Ginny felt sorry she’d brought it up. “You don’t have to answer,” she said.
He shook his head. “No, I want you to understand.” He smiled stiffly. “Besides, they’re your family too.” He seemed agitated, which was strange for Ginny, who’d never seen him make any unnecessary gesture. So it was no surprise to her when he stood and held out his hand. “Come walk with me,” he commanded.
She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet, and they began to walk together down the path to the north meadow, Draco staring intently ahead and Ginny unconsciously flexing the hand that had just been in his.
They were both silent for a long time, but Ginny was content simply to feel the evening breeze, to enjoy the beautiful sunset, to walk by Draco’s side. It pained her to see him troubled, but she couldn’t help noticing that he looked quite handsome when he was so serious, though the intense contemplation on his face now was nothing compared to the beauty of his smile when he was laughing, truly laughing with untainted, childlike joy.
At this moment, though, he seemed miles from laughing. She wanted to know what weighed so heavily on his mind, but she waited, sure that he would speak when he was ready to.
And he did. “The thing you have to understand,” he said very suddenly, “is that my mother was never a Death Eater. Of course, being a Black, she had her opinions on Muggles and Muggleborns, but she could never come to terms with Voldemort’s methods.” He spoke rather haltingly, as though this was the first time he’d put these thoughts into words, and Ginny wondered if she was the first person he’d ever said this to. “Voldemort tried to get my father to persuade her, of course, but she refused and Father would never have dreamed of forcing her.” He paused, a wistful smile on his face. “He had his faults, but he always loved Mother desperately. He’d have given her the world if she’d asked for it.”
Ginny, smiling absently, wrapped her arms around herself and wondered if Draco had ever known anyone he’d be willing to give the world to.
“So he always told Voldemort that Mother wouldn’t join. He told him that she couldn’t stomach the killing, and Voldemort bought that.” He paused suddenly. “It doesn’t bother you when I say ‘Voldemort,’ does it?”
It was an understandable question; many people still refused to say his name, even though Voldemort had been irreversibly destroyed five years earlier. But Ginny had been a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and she’d unwittingly been a close personal friend of the young Voldemort, and she shook her head. “Me and Voldemort go way back,” she joked somewhat weakly.
Draco looked at her closely as though reading her thoughts. “That’s true. I’d forgotten.” He peered at her again and seemed to be about to say something, but then he simply continued his story. “So Mother never became a Death Eater. But-” he sighed a little- “but she still supported the Dark Lord, because my father did, and she was so devoted to him that she convinced herself that Voldemort wasn’t so bad. She became very good at only seeing those parts of the dark side that she could rationalize away and excuse. I mean, I think she really always knew deep down that she disagreed with Voldemort, but she could never disagree with my father, so she always supported his work with the Death Eaters.”
Ginny shrugged a little. “She loved him. It makes people do crazy things.”
Draco gave her a tight smile. “I guess so.” He was silent a moment, then: “Do you remember the raid on the Parley house?”
Ginny nodded. “Beginning of the second war, right? I was still in school then.”
“I was on my way home from a trip to the Continent. After I graduated school I spent a few months working for a family friend’s law office, and then my father sent me on a trip to Europe- Romania, Bulgaria, Greece- all the countries where dark magic isn’t illegal. He was trying to get me more interested in dark magic.”
“Did it work?” It was a forward question, she knew, but she had to know. Besides, she might never get another chance. Draco was never this open about the war, or his father or the Dark Lord. It was an unspoken rule that they never talked about any of it. Ever since that first night of their marriage, when she’d angered him so by asking why he’d turned to the good side, they’d carefully avoided any discussion of Voldemort or Death Eaters or the Order of the Phoenix. It was strange that he’d suddenly changed the rules.
Draco smirked half-heartedly. “I was intrigued, but . . .” Here he paused. “But for a long time I hadn’t been sure that I wanted to join Voldemort. My dad knew this, which is why he decided to send me on the trip. Anyway I didn’t get back to England until the day after the attack, so everything I’m saying is based on what other people have told me- mostly Severus Snape, but it was all confirmed by people in the Order. Basically, the way I understand it is that Voldemort was meeting with his inner circle of Death Eaters, and he had them all bring their wives along, so he could talk to them and make sure they were loyal to him. So my parents both went.”
“The meeting was held at Nolan Parley’s house in Devon, because it was secluded and because the Order didn’t know that Parley had joined the Death Eaters. And they hid the house and made my father the secret keeper, and Voldemort himself cast an anti-Apparating spell so no one could pop in and surprise them. But what they didn’t count on was that one of their guards had decided to turn on them.”
“Ah,” said Ginny.
“His name was Edward Stein. He was a friend of Parley’s and they both joined at the same time, but as Stein got in deeper he realized he’d gotten in over his head. He wanted out, so he started trading information to the Order in return for protection.”
“And he was one of the people your father revealed the house’s secret location to?” Ginny guessed.
“The Death Eaters were always careful when they told anyone a secret like that. But they told Stein because he was acting as a guard, because he knew the layout of Parley’s land. And when the guard he was partnered with got bored and dozed off, Stein managed to get a message to the Order without anyone noticing, and then when the Order showed up he faked his capture.”
“Clever,” Ginny commented.
“And then they attacked the house. Snape was there, of course, pretending to fight the Order, and he said the security around the house was a little heavier than the Order had expected, and they were so busy fighting guards that a lot of the important Death Eaters and their wives managed to get away. But they did capture a lot of the guards.”
“I’d heard it was a successful raid,” Ginny said, and wondered both where Draco could be going with this story and why remembering it was upsetting him so- she’d lived with Draco long enough to know that the more upset he was the more calm he appeared to be, and right then he was very, very tranquil.
“My parents would have gotten away too, except for Voldemort. The Death Eaters who had brought their wives were all trying to slip away to the back of the house, where the women were in a sitting room, and then most of them managed to escape out the back and run to the edge of the land where they could Apparate. But my mother-” He stopped and shook his head. “Mother never brought her wand anywhere. She said it was an inconvenience to carry, and besides wherever she went she was waited on hand on foot, by my father or servants or waiters. Without her wand she couldn’t Apparate out of the house. One of the other couples offered to take her with them, but she just told them that she knew Lucius would come for her.”
Ginny bit her tongue, her immediate response of “Did he?” dying on her lips as she looked at Draco’s emotionless face and decided she already knew the answer to that question.
Draco was continuing. “To his credit, Father started trying to fight his way to Mother as soon as the Order attacked, but back in the hallway Voldemort grabbed him. He’d run out of the room and was hiding under his Invisibility Cloak, and he told my father to come with him, because he’d hidden an exit in a back room and he wanted my father to lay cover for him while he escaped.”
Draco paused, his narrowed eyes the only thing in his calm face that gave away what Ginny instinctively sensed was great inner turmoil. “My father never admitted this to me, of course, but Snape was nearby and he overheard and told me later. He didn’t want to tell me all this about my father, of course, but I wouldn’t rest until I knew.” His speech was precise and carefully controlled, and Ginny found herself wanting to take his hand comfortingly in hers.
“Snape did say my father argued with Voldemort, but then Voldemort insisted and said that if my father wanted to keep his position among the Death Eaters, he had to go with him right then.” They’d reached the northern meadow, and Draco stopped walking, glaring out across the lazily waving grass at the copse of trees on the other side, and Ginny knew what he was about to say. “And he did. My father left with Voldemort. I think he was figuring that the Ministry would realize that my mother wasn’t a Death Eater and they’d let her go. And they would have done, but . . .”
“But?” Ginny prompted gently.
The sun was beginning to set among the hills, and Draco moved to the edge of the path, staring transfixedly at the orange glow. Ginny moved carefully to stand near him, staring up at his too-calm face, afraid of missing a single word coming from his mouth.
“Snape tried to get back to my mother, but some of the Order and the Death Eaters had realized that Voldemort had disappeared and they were running down the hall trying to find him. By the time Snape reached the back of the house Kingsley Shacklebolt was already there fighting Bellatrix Lestrange, and Mother was hiding in the corner. Tonks was there, too, and she and Snape feigned a fight to keep up Snape’s cover story. Aunt Bellatrix and Shacklebolt were both fighting like mad, and their curses were ricocheting all over the place. And then-”
He stopped then, his lips white as stared unseeingly at the horizon, and Ginny felt she knew what was coming next. She waited for him to speak, and it wasn’t she heard him inhale that she realized that she was holding her breath.
“No one knows who cast the curse, although it was Avada Kedavra so it was probably Bellatrix. All they know is that suddenly Tonks was shouting ‘Aunt Narcissa’ and Mother-” He broke off and appeared to be struggling for the words. Ginny shook her head, not exactly knowing what she meant by it. Draco took a breath. “And Mother was dead.”
“Draco-” Ginny began softly.
“Father always insisted it wasn’t his fault, but I think deep down he felt it was. Things were never the same between us after that. I helped bury Mother and the next day I joined the Order of the Phoenix.” His jaw clenched, ever so slightly, and he stared even more determinedly at the sunset.
Ginny released the breath she’d been holding. So that was his reason, then. It was such a tragic story- no wonder he didn’t like to talk about it. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to put her arms around him and tell him that it was going to be all right, that she was there for him and that she always would be, whenever he needed her.
But his stoic posture invited no comfort, and instead she found herself saying, “So that’s why you don’t believe in marriage.”
He gave a strained smirk, still not looking at her. “They were married for twenty years, and he gave that up so that he could keep being Voldemort’s lapdog.”
“Voldemort can be very persuasive,” Ginny said softly. Then, louder: “But that’s only one marriage. Why not consider other marriages, ones that have lasted?”
“I don’t need to. You don’t know how Mother and Father were when they were together. No two people could have been more in love than they were. And in the end she died for their marriage and he gave it up for power.”
She wasn’t used to the bitter tinge in his voice, and something about it made her curl her hand around his wrist and lean her forehead against his shoulder. The muscles there were tense, and she could feel him trembling ever so slightly as he said, “I don’t know if he could have saved her, but he should have tried. He should have done anything for her.” And then she felt him relax quite suddenly. “I miss her so much, Gin.”
She looked up at him then, her hand still around his arm. All his anger was spent and he was standing quite still, the last rays of the sun playing over his resigned face. He looked nothing so much as weary, and as she looked up at his grey eyes, which for the first time in her memory were showing true sorrow, she knew with sudden clarity what she had been refusing to admit to herself for weeks now: that she loved him. With that knowledge came both despair and a curious sense of freedom.
They stood together in the meadow until the sun had vanished behind the hills and the darkening sky was painted with stars. Then without words they turned and walked back to the house, each lost deep in thought, and high above them the stars shone on.
. . . . . .
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