In My Life

Chapter 10

Ginny was slightly out of breath as she stepped out of the fireplace and into the Burrow’s kitchen, closely followed by Draco.

“Oh good!” Ellen said with relief. “I was worried that someone else would get here before we had a chance to hide the biscuits.”

Ginny handed a parcel to Ellen, who slipped out of the room. Draco was looking at her in confusion. “Why would you need to hide the biscuits?” he asked.

“If we didn’t hide them, they’d be gone in the first ten minutes, not everyone would get one, and the ones who did would spoil their dinners,” Ginny answered.

“Is your family so lacking in self-control?” Draco asked, an eyebrow raised.

“When it comes to my ginger biscuits, yes they are,” Ginny said matter-of-factly. She gestured to Draco to follow her into the sitting room.

Draco looked around curiously as he followed Ginny. “So where does Ellen hide them?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Ginny said, laughing. “You’ll have to wait like everyone else!”

“Are you implying that I would ruin my dinner?” Draco asked, a look of false offense on his face.

“I’m not implying anything,” Ginny said, taking his hand and leading him to the sofa. “This will be a good place to greet everyone. They’re all sure to come through here once they arrive, and we can sit in between.”

“All fifty thousand of them,” Draco muttered under his breath.

“There aren’t that many of them!” Ginny admonished. “And your family will be here too.”

“We’ll be so far out numbered that we’ll probably disappear in the crowd,” Draco said, pouting.

“It won’t be so bad as all that. Plus,” she added with a grin, “when was the last time Scorpius disappeared into a crowd?”

Draco grunted, which Ginny took to be agreement, but she didn’t have long to savor her victory before people began to arrive.

Percy and Audrey were the first, as usual, followed by Lily and her husband Ian, George and Charlie, and then a string of Ginny’s grandchildren with their spouses and children. Ginny was not so caught up in talking to everyone else, however, that she didn’t notice Albus’s absence. Every time someone entered the room, her eyes would turn hopefully towards the newcomer. She shoved the hurt below the surface, however, determined not to let it ruin her happiness.

After nearly all of Ginny’s relatives had arrived, Scorpius appeared in the most dramatic way possible, sweeping Ginny up in a gigantic hug. After inflicting a somewhat more sedate hug on Draco, he introduced his wife. Hilda greeted Ginny politely but she seemed stiff and uncomfortable amid the bustle of the Burrow. Ginny was intrigued by the pair—she wasn’t sure if she had ever seen such an ill-suited couple. On the other hand, she was sure other people would say the same of her and Draco; maybe what had drawn them together could not readily be seen.

Scorpius was saying to Draco, “Julius and Justine send their apologies. She said she wasn’t feeling well. Luckily, I am well-versed in translating Justine-speak, so I can tell you that she really meant that if she had to make herself agreeable to people she doesn’t think can do anything for her, she would feel ill. You can bet she’ll be feeling better by tomorrow, though—the press will surely be at the wedding, and there’s no way she will let that kind of opportunity pass her by!”

Hilda pursed her lips. “Oh, don’t give me that look, Hilda,” Scorpius sighed. “It’s all true, as you know very well.”

“Perhaps,” Hilda said coldly. “But that is no reason to discuss such things in public.”

Scorpius made a show of looking all around the room. “We’re not in public, my dear. It’s all family here—or at least it will be by tomorrow!” He gave Ginny a brilliant smile.

“Indeed,” a quiet voice said. Ginny turned to see that Lyra and Daniel had arrived as well, but they seemed to be waiting patiently for Scorpius’s dramatics to run their course before approaching Ginny. Lyra was as serene as she had been at lunch that day when Ginny had met her for the first time.

“Your family’s home is wonderfully cozy,” Lyra said with a smile. “It must have been a joy to grow up here.”

“It was,” Ginny answered warmly. “At least, it was when I didn’t have to fight my brothers for the last piece of cake! Would you like a tour?” And with that, the two women disappeared into the kitchen, discussing housekeeping spells as if they had known each other for years.

***

Draco hadn’t been looking forward to the evening at the Burrow. He had been sure he would feel out of place among the Weasleys, even with Lyra and Scorpius there. But he knew how much Ginny had been looking forward to some time with her family before the actual wedding.

Once everyone had arrived, Draco’s bad knee was throbbing in pain from standing up and sitting down so often. Draco followed Scorpius and Daniel out into the garden, where the men seemed to be congregating. As he eased himself into a lawn chair, Dietrich appeared at his side with a drink and struck up a conversation about the Quidditch World Cup. A crowd gathered, and Draco was soon drawn into an argument about England’s chances as opposed to Germany’s. After a while, the talk turned away from sports, and moved on to politics, then to the challenges of fatherhood. Draco noticed that the people sitting near him changed fairly often, but that whoever was there made a point of asking his opinion, if only to tell him exactly why he was wrong. Dietrich made sure he never had to get up for a drink. After a while, Draco realized he was actually enjoying himself.

“I can’t believe it!” Ellen said, storming out of the house. She flopped down in the chair next to Draco’s, and said indignantly, “They kicked me out of my own kitchen!”

“Who did?” Draco asked, concerned. “Do you want me to go have a word with them?”

“You can if you want,” George said with a grin, “but it won’t do any good.” Turning to Ellen, he asked, “What did you botch this time?”

“It wasn’t so bad, really,” Ellen said petulantly. “I only let the sauce boil over.”

“You ruined it, didn’t you?” George asked gleefully.

“Maybe,” she said sheepishly. “But I followed the recipe exactly!”

“I’m sure you did,” Dietrich said soothingly, taking her hand.

“Gran always says cooking is just like brewing potions!” Ellen ranted. “It’s nothing like brewing potions! At least potions stay in the cauldron!”

Draco smiled at the exchange, remembering the one time Yvette had ventured into the kitchen, hoping to impress him with a hand-cooked meal. He had spent the next week soothing both his disappointed wife and a dozen traumatized house-elves.

“There are more important things in life than the ability to cook,” Draco said, and Dietrich nodded in agreement.

“It sure helps, though!” George said.

One of Ginny’s granddaughters announced that dinner was ready. They all sat at one enormous table in the garden. Ginny sat at Draco’s right, Lyra at his left, and Scorpius opposite him. He helped himself to a plate piled high with food, all of which was delicious—including the salvaged sauce. After dinner, nearly everyone made toasts to Draco and Ginny, and to their continued health and happiness. Draco was pleased, and a little surprised, that George even managed to keep his remarks appropriate for the children to hear.

When the speeches were over, one of the children asked plaintively, “Can we have the ginger biscuits now?”

Faces all around the very long table lit up in anticipation. Draco looked at Lyra and Scorpius to see their reactions. Lyra was smiling calmly, as always, but Scorpius’s eyes had gone very wide.

“Mrs. Potter’s ginger biscuits?” Scorpius asked in a strangled whisper.

“Yes,” Draco said. “What do you know of them?”

“Only that they are the best biscuits I have ever tasted in my entire life,” Scorpius said with a happy sigh.

“When did you taste them?” Draco asked curiously, searching his memory for any potential past connection between his son and the Potters.

“At Hogwarts,” Scorpius said. “I managed to… er, acquire a few of them from Albus Potter once. I kept trying after that—who wouldn’t, with the way they tasted?—but I only managed the once.”

“You always gave your mother and me the impression,” Draco said suspiciously, “that Albus Potter tormented you, but never the reverse. Am I to understand that you lied to us?”

Scorpius shrugged. “I wouldn’t say I lied, so much as omitted a few details. Don’t tell me you never did the same thing.”

Draco bristled. Scorpius grinned, but before he could comment, one of Ginny’s granddaughters levitated two of the famous ginger biscuits onto Scorpius’s plate, then two more onto Draco’s own. He paused to watch his son take a bite.

“Ah!” Scorpius said, his eyes rolling in ecstasy. “Just as I remembered—a little bite of heaven!”

Draco took a bite. Scorpius’s comment was not far from hyperbole. In his love-addled state everything about Ginny seemed to be perfect. Why should her biscuits be any different?

***

Ginny was feeling exceptionally content. The evening had gone more smoothly than she had hoped. Draco and his family seemed to have been absorbed into the family circle without any effort, or even prompting, from her. At the moment, Draco was sitting next to her, but in a deep discussion with Percy about international wizarding trade relations. Lyra was talking to Lily, while bouncing Ginny’s youngest great-grandchild on her knee. Hilda and Fleur were flipping through a fashion magazine together. Scorpius and Daniel had disappeared to the orchard with Dietrich, some of her grandsons and great grandchildren, presumably to play Quidditch or race brooms. A casual observer would never be able to guess that this was the first time some of them had met. She was bursting with love for Draco and her family and even for his family. The picture was nearly perfect.

Ginny refused to think about what was not perfect, and turned her attention back to her granddaughter Belinda, with whom she had been discussing the recipe for her ginger biscuits. They spoke of flour and sugar, and traditions, and that one extra ingredient that made the biscuits so special, until Ginny felt Draco nudge her elbow.

Turning to look at him, Ginny saw that Draco wasn’t looking at her at all. His expression was wary, and he seemed to be focused on something near the house. Ginny turned to look in the same direction and gasped.

Albus hovered near the kitchen door, his hand on the knob as if he were thinking about stepping back inside. Ginny didn’t give him the chance. “Al!” she cried, “you came!”

Every eye in the garden turned toward Albus. His eyes widened, and for a moment, Ginny thought he would flee. But as she rose to her feet, she saw his shoulders set—his Gryffindor courage had taken over. She breathed a sigh of relief, and moved as quickly as she could in his direction.

Ginny stopped just short of Albus, and, tears welling in her eyes, she repeated in a quiet voice, “You came.” He looked at her, then over her shoulder, and Ginny felt Draco’s presence behind her, giving her strength.

Albus tore his eyes away from Draco, and he looked at Ginny once more. “I came,” he said awkwardly. “I…” He paused. “Uncle Charlie… Ellen… Melanie…” he said incoherently. “Melanie convinced me.”

“Convinced you of what?” Ginny asked in a whisper, almost afraid to breathe.

“I… I’m sorry, Mum,” Albus said, and tears came to Ginny’s eyes. “I never should have…”

Albus’s words trailed off, but Ginny didn’t need to hear more. She engulfed her son in a hug the likes of which he hadn’t allowed since he first boarded the train for Hogwarts many, many years earlier.

When Ginny finally let go, Albus took a step back, straightening his robes nearly to their usual dignified state. “I hope that you will be very happy together,” he said formally. Taking a deep breath, he held his hand out to Draco. As they shook, he said, “Welcome to the family, Mr. Malfoy. I trust that you will take good care of my mother?”

“It’s Draco,” he said lightly as he pulled his hand away, allowing it to rest possessively on Ginny’s hip. She relaxed into his touch until he spoke again. “And you need not worry about Ginny. George and Charlie have already threatened me sufficiently.”

Ginny swatted Draco on the chest, only causing his grip on her to tighten, and she thought she saw Albus nearly smile.

The three of them talked somewhat awkwardly for a time about inconsequential topics. Draco was careful not to say anything that might even come close to inciting Albus’s anger, for which Ginny was grateful. After a while, Ginny thought Albus was becoming more comfortable with Draco, and his comfort seemed to increase when his wife Melanie approached.

As the sun disappeared behind the trees, Ginny noticed Albus stiffen, and looked over her shoulder to see what had caused it. The Quidditch players were returning from the orchard, filtering through the trees in twos and threes. Among them, she saw, was Scorpius, and Albus’s eyes seemed to be glued to his school rival. Ginny watched as Melanie took Albus’s hand and squeezed it, then deliberately let go. They gave each other a long look, then Melanie nodded, and Albus closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face. “Excuse me,” he said, and walked away towards Scorpius Malfoy.

Ginny watched her son approach Draco’s. They each spoke a few words to each other, then shook hands. Considering that Albus could hold grudges even longer than Harry ever could, it was something Ginny never thought she would see. She knew it was for her sake. She turned to Melanie, and asked, “You convinced him?”

“Others talked to him as well, but I was the last straw, I think,” Melanie confirmed.

“What did you say?”

Melanie shrugged. “I just asked him what he would have done if you had opposed him marrying me, and he said he would have married me anyway, and probably wouldn’t have spoken to you again. So I asked him to think about why you would be any different, and whether or not he was willing to live with the consequences.”

Ginny gave her usually stuffy daughter-in-law a long, teary look, then said, “Thank you.”

Melanie smiled. “I always appreciated the way you welcomed me into your family. Even though I was Muggle-born, you never said a thing.”

“I never thought anything of that,” Ginny said indignantly.

“Exactly,” Melanie said. “I wanted to return the favor. Plus,” she added with a grin, “Al was being a prat.”

They laughed together, and Ginny felt as if she knew Melanie better than she ever had before. After a moment, Albus returned, still looking a bit stricken that he had called a truce with his childhood enemy.

“Thank you for coming tonight, Al,” Ginny said quietly. “I don’t think you know how much it means to me.”

Albus blushed. “I don’t know if you’ve made plans yet,” he said tentatively, “but if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I would like to give you away tomorrow.”

Ginny looked her son in the eye, threw her arms around him, and then the tears she had been holding back ever since he arrived at the Burrow began to fall.