♥ "Seekers and Secrets" for Hannah ♥
Title: Seekers and Secrets
Author: silveredaccents
Rating: PG-13
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: DH compliant except epilogue of doom
Author's Notes: Oh holy hell did this take on a life of its own. I'm sorry for the rushed ending. That whole running out of time thing!
Summary: Ginny is an unwed mother. Draco is a bored ne'er do well. Both are competing for a position as Seeker for the Tutshill Tornadoes. What happens when they realize that their preconceptions about each other are wrong?
Seekers and Secrets
Draco Malfoy was accustomed to getting precisely what he wanted when he wanted it. During the war, things had been different. He'd never known famine or homelessness, though the latter had gotten close. Still, it had only taken a few months after the Golden Boy had managed victory for life to return to mostly normal. Of course, there was that pesky friend of Potter's who was doing everything she could to turn the world upside down. She was a prime example of how much he distrusted Muggleborns, indeed anyone who thought that Muggle society was better than their own.
Still, even with Granger's chipping away at the fabric of society, Draco felt relatively comfortable in his life. He still had the Manor, his fortune, and more time on his hands than was possibly healthy. He considered himself practical for realizing it. He wouldn't end up like some of the other survivors. He would not fade into the woodwork.
It wasn't that he couldn't find a name for himself anywhere he wanted to. It was that he wanted to do something that would force even his toughest critics to eat their words. That part of him still had the intense need to prove his own skill, that Potter had always just been lucky in school, was a notion he refused to entertain. Still, he had his smirk permanently etched on his face as he walked to the pitch, the latest model Firebolt on his shoulder. He was taller than most Seekers, but the days of Krum and brutish Seekers was over. Now the teams were looking for lithe and agile.
Tutshill was no different, and they were looking for a Seeker. He would be that Seeker.
Ginny hurried onto the pitch, her broom gripped tightly in her hand. She'd been wanting to play Quidditch professionally for years. Having grown up on a pitch had given her an advantage. She was more at home on a broom than most witches were even with their wands. Not that she was any slouch at that either. She simply was no duelist. Until you got her on a broom.
Certainly, they weren't offering her preferred position, but outside the Harpies, she wasn't likely to get the position she wanted. However, she couldn't pass up an opportunity, even if it did take her closer to home. That it was might have been part of the reason she was considering Tutshill in the first place. She couldn't stay away forever. As it was, the four years had nearly killed her.
She missed her parents terribly, and avoiding them hadn't been pleasant. Yet, she had needed time to become who she was supposed to be. Well, that and she had a few other secrets to keep, she thought wryly. After all, eventually, she'd have to tell someone why she'd refused Harry.
That conversation had gotten ugly. She'd told him she'd found someone else while he was off saving the world. It was true. She had. That the relationship had happened accidentally was irrelevant. Thankfully, she'd been able to avoid too many details, but he had gleaned that it had been a Slytherin. The look on his face had said everything. She was tainted. He'd set his jaw and asked one question. How far.
She wasn't sad to give him the answer. She had realized how little she cared for Harry Potter, how she'd been blinded by fame and the symbol just like every other witch. Just like her mother had been with Lockhart. That pair wouldn't have worked either. So, she'd let him go. She didn't cry then, not for that, and not for him. Later she wept as she tried to piece together what she could make of her future.
Looking up at the goal posts, she took a breath. Today she would begin that future. Today, she'd be able to leave her job waiting tables.
"I knew that they were letting anyone compete; I didn't realize exactly how much they meant anyone."
Ginny turned to face the drawl with cool indifference. She wasn't intimidated by him nor was she riled at simply the sound of his voice. He was nothing to her. She knew too much, had seen far more than he imagined.
"Of course I only arrived to irritate you. I stalk you, you know," she replied, sarcasm coating every word. She was rewarded with the briefest reaction, a slight widening of his eyes before he regained his composure.
"Yes, well, too bad you've such a slow broom."
"Is that a gentlemanly offer to allow me to use yours for the trials, Malfoy?" she asked, smiling sweetly.
"I wouldn't want you to fall off and hit your pretty little head."
"You think my head's pretty?" she laughed.
"I was being generous."
"Generous, right." She nodded. "Well, you know what they say about amateurs who need fast brooms, yes?"
He arched an eyebrow, smirking at her. "What do they say?"
"Compensation," she responded in a lilt as she turned away and walked up to the sign-up sheet. She didn't bother hiding the smile as she scrawled her name with a flourish. She didn't care about his broom or his ego. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She did care about his ego. She wanted to crush it.
Draco followed her quickly, signing his own name before heading away from her to await her humiliation.
The day ended up being far longer than he'd expected. He had hoped once they began with speed trials she wouldn't even bother. When she mounted her broom in the heat right before his, he had been surprised. When she wasn't immediately disqualified, he was flat out astonished. He wondered how much of it was her tight arse since it certainly couldn't be speed.
Ginny sat down on the bench panting. Her pulse kept up its tattoo, threatening to burst her eardrums with its intensity. She knew that her broom would be a liability, but she hadn't realized how close she actually would be to not being eliminated quickly. That Malfoy made the first cut didn't surprise her. On his broom, speed was the least of his worries.
They avoided each other the rest of the day. It seemed he had no desire to talk with her, for which she was grateful. She wondered if he wasn't still smarting from her making the time trials with her "outdated broom". The thought was worth the panic she'd felt earlier while racing.
So caught up in her thoughts was she that she nearly missed the voice calling her. Turning, she faced one of the coaches.
"Miss Weasley," he repeated.
"Yes, sorry."
"You technically shouldn't have made the time trials this afternoon."
Her stomach dropped, but her face remained steady. "I know."
"Still, given the speed you pulled out of that broom, I'd like to see what you could do on a more modern broom."
Ginny wasn't certain what to say in response. Though she wasn't sure she could say anything. Was that why they hadn't cut her yet?
"We have brooms available for loan. Stop by the sign up table before you leave."
She nodded to the wizard as he turned on his heel and left.
"Accepting charity already, Weasley?"
She had known he couldn't contain himself too long. It simply wasn't possible. Just as it wasn't in her nature to ignore the barb. She'd simply grown to a new understanding since her sixth year.
"Hardly. I just don't see what's wrong with accepting a little help in evening the playing field." Ginny turned slightly to look at him over her shoulder. "After all, weren't you commenting about how difficult it would be for me to make a decent showing on my own broom? Surely a resourceful wizard," she mocked him with her emphasis, "like yourself wouldn't begrudge a girl a little help."
She enjoyed the darkening of his eyes, though the look reminded her of someone else briefly. She shook her head, hoping he'd take it that she was dismissing him as she was really trying to clear her head of black hair and dark brown eyes.
The thought led to how long the trials had lasted, and she quickly glanced at her watch, letting out a small squeak.
"I'd ask if you had a hot date you forgot about, but we both know no one would date you."
"Shove it, Malfoy," she spat, then hurried off without any further conversation. She hated being late, and she was already well past her time.
"You don't get to walk off on me. I get to snub you!" he hissed, keeping up with her easily.
Ginny stopped for only a moment. "Look, Malfoy, fine. Snub me. Walk off, but I'm late, so do it quick, I don't have time to wait on you."
She didn't stop her hurried pace. She had to reach the Apparition point and get to the child minder quickly. That Celeste had told her she understood about the trials was the only thing keeping her as calm as she was.
"Must be a second job, is that it? Couldn't get time off from whatever it is you do all day?" he laughed, venom laced velvet.
"Yes, exactly. Now that you've gotten that out of your system, can I go now?"
Draco couldn't believe what was happening. She wasn't crying, she wasn't getting angry, not the right kind of angry at least. She even agreed with him, which shouldn't have happened. Had she been next to tears or any other negative emotion, he would have been satisfied. No, she was agreeing with him to get him to leave her alone. That was unacceptable.
"Only when you tell me where you're heading." Without fully comprehending what he was doing, he grabbed her arm. His only thought had been to keep her where he could insult her.
He cursed and pulled himself closer, praying to Merlin, Circe and anyone else who would listen that he didn't end up splinched. Once he felt solid ground beneath his feet, he staggered backwards, hands hurriedly checking for evidence of left body parts.
"Merlin's beard, witch! What were you thinking?"
Ginny stood staring at him, clutching her wand convulsively. "I was thinking I was bloody leaving you behind!" The panic in her voice was unmistakable.
At once, Draco smirked. Her discomfort was delicious and put him at ease. He could practically feel her heart beat speed up as he looked around. They were standing outside a small house. He didn't recognize the town, but he could see the sea off in the distance in a direction he presumed was east.
"Get out of here, Malfoy. Just go!"
"Mommy!" came a high-pitched cry.
Draco looked past the now sickly pale witch to see a small boy with black hair running as fast as his little legs would carry him. Draco felt his lip curl up at the child who was heading straight for the witch next to him.
"I'm sorry, Miss Weasley, I hadn't realized you had a friend with you. He's been watching out the window waiting for you."
Ginny knelt down and picked up the toddler, turning somewhat to shield the boy from Draco. From the way she juggled child and broom easily, it was obvious she was quite familiar with this scenario. She walked toward the house, shaking her head. "No, he was just leaving. I'm sorry for being so late."
Draco watched the display with sick fascination as she apologized again to the witch. The boy stared back at him from over Ginny's shoulder, half-hiding behind her hair. He couldn't hear the conversation, nor did he actually try to eavesdrop. He was too wrapped up in the new information.
So, Little Miss Perfect was an unwed mother. Draco had never thought much of Potter, but now he wondered if even that little had been too much. Either she was single or she was effectively so. Neither option improved his mood.
He stood rooted to the spot warring with himself. Guilt and shame were not familiar to a Malfoy, and as a result, they usually preceded even more cruelty than was standard. He sneered as she walked back down toward him.
"Are you just that horrible to live with or is it Potter's just that much a louse?"
She glared at him, pulling the child closer. "He's not Harry's."
Draco felt his eyes go wide and his jaw drop slightly. He wasn't Potter's? It only took a moment to approximate the age of the child. At two or three, he had to be born a year or two after the war. He hadn't exactly followed Potter since, but now thinking about it he realized he hadn't seen her name attached to his in any of the headlines.
"You mean someone else would have you?"
Ginny narrowed her eyes, holding the child close. "A Slytherin in fact," she snarled. "You don't know me anymore, Malfoy. If you ever come near me or my son again, you will regret it."
Something about the tone of voice she used kept him from opening his mouth. He'd always assumed she was as weak as the rest of her lot, but perhaps it was learning a lesson taught by her mother besting one of the best duelists around. Hearing the tale of Molly Weasley killing his deranged aunt to protect her child was a graphic lesson in the prowess of a mother lion.
He had more sense than his late aunt. He nodded briefly, then Apparated away.
Ginny managed to avoid him throughout the next day's trials. Under other circumstances, he'd have been pleased. Thrilled even. Unfortunately, he'd spent the entire night dreaming about her and that brat of hers. The whole affair had him up well before dawn in the most irritable mood.
Refusing to examine his own emotions too much, Draco had headed to the trials wondering whether she'd lied about sleeping with a Slytherin, in which case he'd take great pleasure in destroying her. The other possibility, that she in fact had born a child by a Slytherin, was more upsetting.
All of the Slytherins he'd known in school might not have been honorable by standard means, but one did pay for one's mistakes, even if they were with a blood traitor. It wasn't always marriage, but it was always money, and she was obviously taking care of herself.
Distracted by thoughts of the redhead, he took much longer to catch the snitch than he should have. When he did land, the looks on the faces of the judges concurred, though he still wasn't disqualified, a blessing for which he was grateful.
To add insult to injury, she was smirking at him. She who was filling his thoughts with all manner of distressing imagery was enjoying his discomfort.
Part of him admitted, reluctantly, that he respected her. As he watched her rise into the air for her trial, he noticed how well she handled the borrowed broom. She hadn't been the only one to be given one, a point which did not escape his notice. Most, however, faltered unable to handle the quirks of a different broom under the pressure of the day. A few did well however, and Draco noted with admiration that she was adaptable, a trait he admired far above sheer talent.
Ginny caught the snitch, landing as quickly as she could, thankful for the many times she'd ended up borrowing brooms during the Burrow quidditch matches. No one could guarantee playing with the same broom every game, so being flexible was an advantage. That tradition served her well as she saw the glimpse of something flicker through Draco's expression.
Theo had told her he was different away from the throng, though she'd never wanted to believe it. However, there was no mistaking he was impressed as she walked past him to hand the snitch to the judges.
Certainly, his behavior the night before had changed the moment he knew she'd been with a Slytherin. She couldn't keep the chuckle from herself. He was such an elitist, and yet, she thought there might have been jealousy there. It served him right.
Ginny had no sooner sat down to watch the rest of the trials than he sat next to her. She'd avoided him all day, but the moment she let her guard down, he was there. It irritated her and she prepared herself for the onslaught.
A number of things had gone through Draco's head as he headed toward her. The truly vicious child in him wanted to continue to berate her, belittle her, but as he approached her, the lectures his father had given him pounded through his mind.
"Who's the father?" he asked quietly. It wasn't out of respect for her so much as discretion in general.
Ginny started, then looked at him askance. "Why does it matter to you?" Draco nearly flinched at the venom in her voice. She'd obviously been asked the same question innumerable times.
"I was always raised to watch after any," he paused, "I was raised to not abandon any issue of mine, and I'm fairly certain the same could be said for any Slytherin in our age bracket." He tried to deliver the comment as tenderly as possible. The thought she hadn't told the father crept into his mind, but he dismissed it. She didn't seem the type, and if she wasn't trying to pass it off as Potter's, then there really was no point unless the bloke had been married.
Her back eased slightly when the expected barb didn't come. She turned away to look out at the pitch and the wizard who was currently battling his own borrowed broom. No one had told her that about most Slytherins, but then again, it wasn't as if she'd talked about the entire affair much at all.
She debated telling him precisely who the father was. She didn't need his pity, but it wasn't as if there was any reputation at stake save hers.
"Theo."
She waited for the reaction, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. He didn't disappoint. She watched what little color his face had blanch. The muscle in his jaw twitched before going slack, his lips parting slightly. If she hadn't imagined it, his fingers twitched slightly as they were clasped in his lap.
It required no Legilimency on her part to read the questions forming behind his eyes. Part of her wondered if he would be capable of voicing any of them. The rest didn't want to wait to find out.
When he nodded slightly, she nodded. "So now you know," she answered, standing up. The final applicant was landing empty- handed after being called down by the coaches. She wove her way through the crowd of potentials ensuring as much space between Malfoy and her. Her attempt seemed successful as she didn't have to deal with any more of his probing.
Draco groaned as he opened his eyes to stare at the tiled ceiling. Theo. She was raising the only heir to the Nott family as a Muggle-loving Weasley. The thought didn't carry as much conviction as he knew it should have. She wasn't a tramp, though her silence regarding the father had made him believe she was. She wasn't denying the father a chance to own up to things. Theo had died in the crossfire of the final battle.
He balled his fists and pressed them against his eyes. They had never been close friends while in school, but there had always been a certain amount of respect for the weedy loner. Their fathers fought together, so being thrown together periodically was par for the course.
Now, his only child was being raised by Weasley.
Draco kept returning to that thought. He wanted to hate her for it, wanted to believe Theo had used the girl, that it had been the infernal Weasley fertility that had caused the problem.
Except he knew it wasn't.
Theo had never been the kind to find a shag wherever he could. He'd never forcibly fallen in step with anyone for any reason. He might have kept to himself, he might have held his tongue, but he hadn't properly sold out. That meant he'd seen something Draco had never let himself.
His friend had found worth in a Gryffindor blood traitor, enough to risk a tryst while in school. Draco allowed his thoughts to drift to the redhead, trying to see in her what Theo had, if only to reconcile his thoughts of his dead friend.
Disconcertingly, the images came readily enough. Her warm chocolate eyes danced when she was flying. She wasn't fragile unlike the pure-blood girls both he and Theo had fawning all over them, like the ones who still tried with Draco now. No, the littlest Weasley was strong enough to give back whatever she took.
Draco fell asleep to thoughts of Ginevra Weasley trying not to think what it meant that he was so easily swayed to thinking positively about her now.
Ginny approached the pitch with an unusual sense of calm. Theo had behaved this morning when she'd dropped him off with Celeste. The apparition point hadn't been congested, and best yet, there was no sign of Malfoy.
At the pitch, she noticed a crowd milling about a table. She furrowed her brow as she approached, broom clutched tightly in her small fist. Several voices rose in heated debate complaining about having come to the pitch only to find out they'd been cut from the potentials. A few of them glared in her direction, sneering so vehemently as to compete with the worst she'd received in school.
None of them could dampen her mood, however. She refused to let them. Ginny wouldn't allow herself to worry that she'd been cut. That she'd made it through the first day was quite the feat already. A couple of wizards shoved past her, nearly knocking her over.
"Bloody coaches. If they knew yesterday who was going to make it, they should have just let the rest of us go."
"Waste of my time."
Ginny's heart skipped a beat. Had they really announced the position? She couldn't imagine they'd have announce the position. Not yet.
"Congratulations, Ginevra," the always familiar drawl came from off to her side.
Ginny spun her head to face him. She tried to control her surprise with irritation. "It's Ginny." He had the audacity to chuckle. Her brain caught up with the conversation. "Congratulations?"
"You caught that, did you?"
Her face lit up as she pushed through the crowd toward the table. Part of her tensed, half expecting him to follow. Half- way through, she glanced behind her. As short as she was, he was nowhere to be found, which likely meant he was still on the outskirts of the crowd. She set her jaw and wove her way through the rest of the people until she was directly before the table. Her eyes scanned the parchments charmed to the table. Sure enough, she'd made the final cut. Malfoy's name just above hers registered distantly.
She reached out, grabbing the envelope that bore her name and turning to push her way back to fresher air. Once there, she opened it quickly.
"We're to return this evening. They want us each to run through the same obstacle course under identical lights."
It was with those simple words that her world threatened to crash around her. She had to come back tonight?
"Tonight?" she whispered, her voice rough against her ears. Her mind turned in on itself, running through possibilities on how to make this work. "I can't," she whispered. "Theo."
Draco grabbed her by the arm, and Ginny blindly followed. If she hadn't been good enough, she'd have accepted the loss and moved on. But to lose it because she didn't have a child minder?
Hot breath tickled her ear, bringing her back to the present. "Look, under other circumstances I'd be more than happy to let you give up, but," he paused, pulling away slightly before returning his lips to almost tickling range. "I can arrange something."
Pride rose up in her chest. "What makes you think I need your help? I'll just floo my mother or one of my brothers."
Draco was standing in front of her now, both hands on her shoulders. "First, if you were in good with your family, you wouldn't have needed to leave him with a minder at all. Second, consider it the obligation of the Slytherin Prince from his class."
She hadn't realized how transparent her self-imposed exile would be. He was right, however. If she'd been able to rely on her mother, she would never have needed Celeste. Her frustration came out as bitter arrogance.
"I don't want your charity."
He shook her. "It's not charity, and it's not for you. It's for him. So get over yourself, Weasley."
Ginny hadn't expected him to be irritated that she hadn't taken him seriously. Suspicion and curiosity overrode her wounded pride. "What do you get out of it?"
Draco smirked, but not the usual smirk he'd given her in school. No, this had been a smirk reserved for girls far higher up his imaginary food chain. Now he was giving it to her. Her concern soared.
"I get the possibility of keeping Theo's son from becoming a Gryffindor." Ginny couldn't keep from feeling a bit disappointed. "Look, let me take you to lunch, quiet, out of the way place--"
"Afraid to be seen with me, Malfoy?" she asked, unable to keep her ire completely hidden. Unfortunately, it didn't sound as offended as she had hoped.
He smiled indulgently, an infuriating expression, "Hardly, but as we'll be discussing the son you don't share with the world I thought you'd appreciate some privacy."
She couldn't argue with him over that, except the absolute self-assurance that she would talk with him more. The worst part was, he was right. The bloody wanker was right. The relief she'd felt after finally being able to share with someone any information about her son had been overwhelming. Giving in with a nod, Ginny felt herself being led to the apparition point.
Vaguely, Ginny wondered if the only thing she'd ever needed to get him to be a gentleman was to get the Slytherin stamp of approval from someone else first. It nearly made her laugh in spite of the debt she would owe him if this continued. Allowing him to take her arm and Apparate them both to outside a small cafe.
Ginny didn't recognize Pierre's or the area around it. The town, however, did prove as anonymous as he'd promised. Judging by the air, she figured they were near the sea, but she wasn't sure which one as she couldn't see it beyond the buildings.
She only missed a half-beat in her reverie, following his lead into the cafe with the briefest of tugs from her companion.
The cafe was a small family run place, yet very upscale, not someplace she'd have entered without him. The distinction was only more cleanly felt by the fact she wouldn't have dreamed of bringing Theo here. There were too many nice chairs for spills and the wooden tables simply an invitation to carving with his fork.
Draco led her to a bistro table, holding the chair out for her as she sat down. "Thank you," she acknowledged. He inclined his head in response and sat down opposite.
"So you named his son after him?" he asked quietly. There was no trace of the arrogant self-centered child in the man sitting there asking her respectfully about her son. She knew she should be jolted, but she wanted to enjoy it.
Ginny nodded. "It seemed appropriate. Theodore Nott Weasley." She noted he contained the twitch mostly.
"And he's what, three now?" She nodded. "So why haven't you told your mother?"
"How do you know I haven't?"
He chuckled, "Because despite differences of political views, I happen to be very sure that your mother would not allow a grandchild of hers to go without her nurturing care." The final words said wryly.
Ginny shifted uncomfortably. How was it he knew her so well? The concept she might have always been this transparent bothered her greatly.
"Is there any other part of my life you'd like to tell me?" she asked, matching him tone for tone.
Draco smiled. "And deny you the chance to surprise me?"
"I thought I already had."
He chuckled. "That you have." He watched her face shift, unsure of what to do with the jovial amiable Draco Malfoy that she'd never seen.
He wasn't entirely sure what to do with it either. He knew he felt responsible for her child. He couldn't explain it even to himself so he hoped fervently that she wouldn't ask him to.
"And you, taking a Weasley out?"
"Ahh, but a Weasley raising a Slytherin pure-blood."
"And that makes it all better?" she asked, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips.
"Of course it does." He leaned toward her slightly. "I wonder what else Theo taught you."
The playfulness was too much for Ginny. She pulled away, shaking her head. "Don't, just don't."
Draco tilted his head. "Don't what?"
"We're not friends, Malfoy. No matter what we can pretend in this cafe, we have never been and we can't be."
He frowned, "Why can't we be?"
It was her turn to laugh, "What do you mean why can't we be?" Ginny pushed her chair away, "I appreciate all you want to do for Theo, I do, but this?" she motioned between them, "You and me? We are just too different."
Draco hurriedly stood up. "Fine, at least let my mother mind him tonight so you can finish the trial."
"Why are you doing this? I don't need your help." She didn't mean to sound so agitated and calmed a bit as he merely rolled his eyes.
"You may not, but again, this isn't for you." He smirked, a far more comfortable expression in Ginny's mind. "If you'd rather, you can think I simply want to beat you on the pitch since it's no fun lording the victory over you if you don't compete because of your son. Or perhaps I want you in my debt."
Ginny began laughing. She was sure all of those were likely causes, but to hear him offer her the choice of his motive was something she found darkly amusing. "Ahh, but since you are practically begging me," she countered, wondering if this tactic would work on all Slytherins or just the one she'd known before, "Then wouldn't allowing your mother to mind my son be considered me doing you a favor?"
In an instant, Draco's smirk fell and Ginny could see true respect reflected in the silver orbs. She decided she liked that look.
He bowed slightly at her, eyes alight. "You are indeed not the girl you once were. Remind me to pay my respects to your tutor." He motioned to the table, "Would you allow me to prepay my favor with food?"
Ginny put on her best haughty air and nodded, sitting back down. "Why yes, I believe I shall."
They shared a small chuckle as he sat down and motioned for the waiter who had been standing off to the side to step forward.
Hours later, Ginny was still reeling from being introduced to what must have been the real Draco Malfoy. Or perhaps he'd just grown up too. She had agreed to meet with him after picking up Theo. When she thought about how he'd gotten her to agree, the details were fuzzy. Through the warmth, he'd lowered her guard, and it seemed only fair to let him properly meet the man who was offering to help her with the trial.
Standing just beyond Celeste's property, she faltered. Had Draco truly changed? Was this some ploy? What could he want from her? She refused outright to believe that he simply wanted a fair fight. He never had cared about that before. Before, however, he had seen her as someone from a different world. Of course, she had been. Weasleys and Malfoys simply didn't converse pleasantly. Yet they had. Once she'd well and fully agreed to sharing a meal with him and allowing her son to be watched over by his mother, things had gone very smoothly.
His mother. The weight of her agreement fell flatly against her gut. She had agreed to let her son be alone with Narcissa Malfoy. That his father would be there too had never been mentioned, though she doubted he would ensure the man's absence. It was his home. His home.
Ginny clutched at her stomach and stumbled back, reeling slightly. Her vision swam as her lungs fought for air. She shook her head with the effort of throwing from her mind Lucius Malfoy holding her son. No matter what his son may have done to redeem himself, no amount of Gryffindor bravado was worth that. Yes, she'd acted before she thought, yes she'd been enchanted by his charm and wit, oh Merlin was he witty.
No! She couldn't. She'd just turn around, she was early as it was, and she'd tell Draco she couldn't do it.
Getting her feet to work only caused her to spin directly into a hard chest. Her head shot up hoping not to see what she knew she would, gray eyes and white-blond hair.
"What are you doing here?" she gasped, part of her impressed that her lungs had had enough air to get that through. Still, her traitorous body refused to fight off his stabilizing arms that were suddenly there.
"Are you all right?" he asked, completely bypassing her question.
"Of course I'm not all right," she spat, pulling away. "You bloody well got me to agree to leave my son in a Death Eater home for the night," she accused in an angry whisper.
Draco's face set, and the small part that had been able to resist his charm cheered in victory. See, it shouted, he hasn't changed!
"My mother is not and never was," he responded in a similar whisper.
"But your father--"
"Is out of the country on business and he won't return until the morning." She shot him a look she knew he wouldn't misinterpret. "Not that kind of business. He's doing some investing in America, it'll be daylight there?"
He rolled his eyes and turned from her slightly before deciding a full frontal attack was more advantageous. "I want you at that trial, Weasley," she noted the last name with more disappointment. "Why would I ask you to leave your son with someone I knew you couldn't imagine would have an ounce of paternal care, of which, incidentally, he has more than most fathers. Theo was my friend, do you really think I'd wish his son harm?"
Guilt and shame were ugly companions, and never more so than when displayed across a pale freckled face. "I don't think you wish harm to my son," she managed, trying to focus on small truths to offer him. "I just don't trust your father. Our history is far too grim for me to simply forget it." Memories flashed through in a demented slide show of her interactions with Lucius Malfoy. The fist fight from her childhood, the diary, the Quidditch World Cup, the diary stories from Harry about Malfoy manor during the war, the diary.
Some of the horror must have made it to her face because the gentleman had returned, stepping up and clasping her shoulders gently. "Ginevra, if I had thought for one moment that your son would be in any danger at my parents' house, with my mother," he emphasized softly, "then I would never have offered." When she didn't seem to snap out of her thoughts, he squeezed a little tighter. "Besides," he chuckled slightly, "What good would it do me to lose my leverage on you?"
Ginny smiled weakly and nodded. Yes, that was a rationale she could hold onto. She and her son were worth more alive than dead to the Malfoys. That was it.
"Now, will you be all right if I leave you here and go warn my mother I've volunteered her evening away." He smiled down at her with a slightly guilty grin.
Ginny chuckled. "Oh I'm sure she'll love that."
"Yes, at least I'm offering her the opportunity to play manners tutor with a pure-blood," he smirked, then winked, "It might soften the blow."
"Now, my son is very well behaved."
"At which point, my mother will begin lessons on Wizards Chess."
Realizing he was not going to let her win this one, she conceded the point and moved back to her original question. "Why did you follow me?"
She wasn't sure whether to be comforted or aggravated by the smirk he affected. When he spoke, she decided to go for comfort. "A good Slytherin is always playing chess. We're always planning a few contingencies in advance."
"You knew I'd falter?" she asked.
"Let's just say, I knew it was a strong probability that you hadn't thought about the whole thing when you left, but it was going to catch up with you. I just had to guess when."
She pushed on his chest, shoving him away with oddly intimate false anger. "You played me."
"No no" he insisted quickly, hands up, the move somewhat countered by the lightness of his voice. "I merely thought it was in my best interests to not bring him up, but then you hadn't, and I realized I should."
Ginny pulled away, wrapping her arms around herself as if warding off the friendliness of their interactions. She nodded, however, and smiled somewhat. "Yes, well, we should keep your father as a topic of discussion for another day. One long far off."
A flicker of irritation showed, but he nodded. "You won't change your mind again will you? About tonight?"
"No. I can't say I'm perfectly all right with it, but I will be there, and bring Theo with me."
Draco nodded satisfied. He popped out of existence leaving her alone with her thoughts again.
"Mummy!"
She put on her best smile and knelt down, picking up her son and swinging him around before walking toward the door. "Hey, baby, were you good for Celeste today?" He nodded enthusiastically.
"He was very good. You're early, did things not go well?" Celeste asked. The witch reminded Ginny so much of her mother sometimes it hurt. Brown hair and a tan were sometimes the only differences with their similar portly physique and their overbearing mothering. Still, that was in part why she'd chosen the woman.
"Oh, things are fine, they changed things up, however, so I have to go in tonight."
As predicted, the witch's expression clearly showed her distress. "Miss Weasley, I can't keep him tonight."
"It's all right, Celeste, I've made arrangements. That's part of why I let him stay here today." She set Theo down. He hugged her once, then headed off to play after a slight nudge.
"With your young man?" The smile was unmistakable.
"He's not my young man, but yes, well, technically his mother. He's actually part of my competition."
Celeste raised an eyebrow, "And why would your competition help you?"
"Oh don't do this to me," Ginny started. Celeste had been there through a few failed dates; Ginny couldn't rightfully call them relationships. Now the woman seemed to think herself an expert on what Ginny needed. That it might be true bothered Ginny on more than one occasion, and she wondered if her own mother could have prevented some of the pain as well.
"I'm simply saying," Celeste continued, "That he seems like a very nice young man, and it's clear he cares about you."
"He doesn't care about me. He cares about Theo, and that only because he knew the father."
Celeste laughed, "He may tell you that. He may even tell himself that, but Theo and I were watching you two, and you don't act that way toward someone if you only want something out of them."
"He's a trained actor," Ginny countered. She comforted herself with knowing it wasn't precisely a lie. He had been trained. It was simply a different kind of acting than one saw on the stage.
"Not that good. He was standing there watching you before you noticed him."
At this, Ginny's eyes narrowed. "Exactly how long were you and Theo watching that window?"
Celeste laughed, "Long enough. It's his fault, really. He seems to always know when you've Apparated, and he was the one who insisted we not announce our presence."
The cunning little--
Ginny cut her thoughts off. If she really was raising a Slytherin, Draco might have been more right than he knew. She had no idea what to do with one. Maybe if she'd been honest with her mother, taken him to the Burrow, maybe the combined effort of the Weasley clan could change him into a Gryffindor.
She knew it wouldn't happen. Well, it might have been possible, but would he have been truly happy in Gryffindor? And would his true and proper nature emerge at some point without him having the advantage of understanding it?
She sighed a happily indulgent sigh, "That's my little boy."
"And so you volunteered me to mind her son this evening?" his mother's melodic voice rang through the room. Draco nodded silently. "What's in it for you?"
"He's Theo's son. The boy deserves every chance he can get and we both know that won't happen if Ginevra is working at whatever foolish job it is unwed mothers work at."
Narcissa eyed her son, the hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. "Ginevra?"
Draco groaned, "Mother."
She put up her hand, "Fine. Are you throwing the competition then?"
"Circe, no," he smirked. "If she wants it, she'll have to take it. I won't be giving it to her."
He calmed visibly as he watched his mother chuckle. "Good. I'd hate to wonder what had happened to the son I raised."
Draco smiled, "Mum, someone needs to make sure that Theo's son is raised to be a good pure-blood Slytherin."
"And is his welfare the only one for which you are concerned?" Her tone left little to the imagination. Draco knew precisely where her thoughts had led.
He narrowed his eyes at her. She raised her eyebrows in return.
Draco lowered his eyes just slightly, just enough to show his mother deference. Without seeing her eyes, he knew she'd softened her gaze.
"She is not the girl I knew in school."
"She is a Weasley," his mother countered smoothly. He knew in her tone she was not truly upset at his interactions with the girl, but it was in her nature to consider all options.
"Yes, one who has not seen her family in years. One who is now the mother of a pure-blood. His family has not had the chance to do them right."
"His family is dead, Draco. You owe her nothing."
"I owe her this. Theo should have taken care of her."
Narcissa laughed, "Calm yourself, Draco. I will mind her son this evening so you and she can go compete for a position you don't want and she shouldn't need."
"Thank you, Mum."
"Don't thank me yet," she retorted, smirking as she dismissed him.
Draco got the distinct impression she was planning something. From years of experience, he knew better then to fight it. She would plot and plan, and he would follow. It had always been thus. It had been her cunning that had saved their family during the war. It had been her lead that had kept their fortunes and reputations relatively intact.
She had voiced the obligatory disapproval, but he suspected she felt the same as he. Pure-blood still stood for something, even if half of it was traitor.
Draco felt new respect for the traitor as she stood at the door to the manor, holding the hand of her young son. To her credit, no fear or distaste showed, no hesitation as he stood at the door for them to enter.
"Draco."
"Ginevra." he turned to offer his hand to her son. "Theo." The child took his hand on his mother's prompting, shaking it.
"Ginevra, Theo, welcome to our home." Draco turned to see his mother standing a half-step behind him. Her gaze was focused on the child standing there.
Up close, it was easy to see Theo in the sharp angles and the way his hair fell. The eyes were definitely from his mother, as was the pale splatter of freckling.
"Thank you for your help, Mrs Malfoy," Ginny said. "I appreciate your help. Are you sure this is all right?"
"Of course it is," his mother dismissed the concern expertly. "Theo and I will have quite a bit of fun."
Draco couldn't fully keep the chuckle from causing his lips to twitch slightly. "Mum has been wanting grandchildren. This will give her a chance to practice." He ducked dramatically, stepping away from his mother and the door.
"Yes, well, maybe you should start thinking about settling down," his mother chided him.
Ginny laughed from her position kneeling in front of her son, whispering in his ear. Theo nodded, then kissed her before stepping away.
"Thank you again, Mrs Malfoy."
Stepping out of the house and Apparating to the pitch had been one of the more difficult decisions Ginny had ever made. Still, pride, stubbornness, and maybe the fact that she was one of five finalists for the position had each helped in turn.
As she looked at the pitch, she tried to remind herself she wasn't a poor mother. If she could get this job, she'd be able to afford so much more for her son. No more worries about rent checques or poor tippers.
Once they'd arrived, Draco had separated from her, talking with one of the other potential Seekers. Ginny had headed to the side, trying to avoid listening to anyone. She was close enough to hear the coaches and waited for them. She didn't have to wait long. They had erected a small tent on the pitch and ushered everyone inside. They had charmed a snitch to perform a complex series of moves that each of them would follow. The first through the course would get the position.
Ginny paced the tent. Draco was flying currently; she would go next. A glance at the only other one in the tent proved he was just as nervous as she, though he seemed to be taking it out on his broom judging by the white knuckles she caught glimpses of now and then.
"Miss Weasley."
She turned to see the assistant coach at the entrance. "You're up."
Draco slumped onto the bench. The snitch had led him on a merry chase, nearly causing him to fall off his broom several times. Judging by the looks on the other two who had already completed the course, he figured they'd had similar experiences. He couldn't even bring himself to watch Ginny as she chased after the elusive golden demon. He'd had trouble, and he was on his own broom. She was on the borrowed Nimbus.
To keep himself from watching, he focused on his mother's suggestion that he was interested in something beyond Theo. He didn't like where such thoughts led. With practiced ease, he segmented his thoughts and compartmentalized his feelings.
Soon enough, he felt the bench shift as someone sat down near him. He turned to the side to see Ginny flushed with a vague smile on her face. A slight hint of sweat glistened over the freckles. She was breathing heavily, but unlike himself or the other two who had competed, her eyes were on fire.
Draco decided he liked that look on her and wondered why he'd been so blind in school. Distantly, he realized that maybe that was part of what Theo had found in her as well.
The final applicant was in the air. Neither of the two wizards who had preceded him seemed to care, and Draco hadn't been all that interested in watching, but Ginny was staring at the snitch, watching only other witch who had made it this far. Draco studied the redhead, amazed at the passion she showed. He wasn't sure if he had simply missed it before or if she hadn't allowed herself to really indulge in her love of the game.
He was completely lost in his own thoughts as the trials ended and the coaches announced they'd have a decision in the morning. The outward picture of calm, Draco escorted Ginny back to the Manor. She seemed caught up in her own thoughts which suited him fine.
Ginny couldn't sleep. She stared at the fire, wide awake and unable to keep her thoughts from straying. Theo had babbled incessantly for a full hour after she'd picked him up from the Malfoy's. It seemed Draco's offhand comment about her wanting grandchildren hadn't been all that exaggerated. When they'd left, his mother had insisted she bring him by again.
Pulling her knees up, she sighed loudly. Her thoughts strayed yet again to the silver eyes that had been watching her. Draco Malfoy had shown her a very different person over the course of the day. The rational part of her complained, trying to remind her that one day's worth of behavior wasn't enough to change her mind.
Twisting, she flopped lengthwise on the couch. It would have been far easier to dismiss today as odd behavior if her son had reacted differently. He was enamoured. He had asked when he could go back to "Aunt Cissy's." Ginny could kill her for that, except it had been so wonderful to hear him excited about going to see anyone. Theo didn't mind Celeste, but he hadn't ever been as excited about her as he was about his evening with Narcissa Malfoy.
She groaned, mumbling to herself that her life would never be the same.
Ginny woke to a small hand on her arm, "Mummy?" She sat bolt upright, very much awake, her heart pounding in her chest. "Mummy?"
"It's ok, Theo. Mummy didn't get a nap last night." She yawned loudly as she got up. "I'll get you breakfast."
He giggled in response. "Owl! Owl!" Ginny looked down as he tugged on her hand, then followed his small hand to where a brown owl was tapping on the glass impatiently.
Ginny hurried to the window and opened it. The owl hopped onto the ledge, holding its leg out with what she was certain was censure. Ignoring the creature's attitude, she retrieved the letter and fed it a treat as she opened it up with shaking hands. The letter had been sealed with the sigil of the Tutshill Tornadoes.
Miss Ginevra Weasley,
It is with great pleasure we offer you the position of Seeker on the team. Please be prepared to attend practice on Saturday, 5 August 2002.
Sincerely,
Gordon Tennshire
Coach, Tutshill Tornadoes
Ginny squealed and spun around, picking up a startled Theo.
"Mummy?"
"Mummy got the job! Mummy got the job!" she cried, tears falling as Theo began cheering with her.
"I think this calls for a celebration. Do you want to go for breakfast?" Theo nodded excitedly, wriggling to get down. Ginny laughed and followed him to his bedroom.
They had just gotten to Melani's Waffle House when she was stopped by a melodic voice.
"Miss Weasley, Master Weasley."
Theo turned in her grip, "Aunt Cissy!" he exclaimed causing Ginny to blush. She tugged on his hand slightly, shushing him.
"Hello, Mrs Malfoy," she nodded to her then the man next to her, "Draco."
"Ginevra," Draco drawled.
"We're going to eat! Wanna join?"
Ginny hadn't thought she could blush brighter, but her face found new heights with her son's innocent intruding. "Theo," she admonished in a whisper. "I'm sure Mrs Malfoy has far more important things to do."
"Nonsense," Narcissa smiled. "We were just about to eat as well. If you don't mind the company?"
"No, not at all," Ginny choked. She thought about the reason for the breakfast, then decided she wouldn't allow Draco's presence to dampen her spirits. "We were just celebrating."
"Oh?" Narcissa asked. "What are you celebrating, Theo?"
Ginny found the Malfoy matron's interest in her son disturbing, but caught her eye was how Draco hadn't flinched as her son blurted out, "Mummy got the job!"
"Oh that's wonderful!" Narcissa said.
"Congratulations," Draco smirked, nodding to her.
He seemed to have expected the result which brought her pride boiling to the surface. "Did you take a dive, Malfoy?" she asked, deliberately using his surname.
"Excuse me?" he asked, his voice gaining a hard edge.
Narcissa glanced between the two, then stepped forward to take Theo's hand. "Come, Theo, we'll get a table and let Mommy and Draco talk."
Ginny opened her mouth to protest, but Narcissa held up her hand. "Talk." She closed her mouth and nodded as Narcissa took her son into the cafe.
"Did you throw the trial?" she repeated.
Draco stepped up to her, the faint scent of his cologne teasing her senses. "Malfoys do not throw competitions."
"But you seemed to not be surprised when I got it."
He chuckled, and Ginny found the sound both enticing and repellent, though more the former than the latter. She stiffened as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "That's because I knew the only one who could beat me out was you."
She inhaled sharply, her face burning again. If she wasn't careful, the blush would become permanent. It took everything she had not to lean into him. A desire she wanted to deny could ever have existed.
"Now, shall we join my mother and your son?" he asked, his voice husky against her ear.
Ginny shook, then took a deep breath, stepping back. "Wait," she put her hand up to keep him from stepping close again. At his questioning glance, she continued. "Which is real?"
"Pardon?"
"Which is real? The spoiled brat who hated me completely or the gentleman who you showed me yesterday? I know Theo thinks your mother is wonderful, and it only confuses me more, so I want to know. Is this real?"
He smirked then and offered his arm. "Only one way to find out."
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive in your fic
I would like something to do with the theme, and it would be awesome if Ginny could win. Or if it was a really really close race, or something. I want to see the challenge.
The tone/mood of the fic: Romantic. Witty. Banter is a plus!
An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic: A hidden secret. Either one or both could know about it - up to author.
Preferred rating of the the fic you want: G - PG-13
Canon or AU? Either
Deal Breakers (anything you don't want?): A lot of Harry
Author: silveredaccents
Rating: PG-13
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: DH compliant except epilogue of doom
Author's Notes: Oh holy hell did this take on a life of its own. I'm sorry for the rushed ending. That whole running out of time thing!
Summary: Ginny is an unwed mother. Draco is a bored ne'er do well. Both are competing for a position as Seeker for the Tutshill Tornadoes. What happens when they realize that their preconceptions about each other are wrong?
Seekers and Secrets
Draco Malfoy was accustomed to getting precisely what he wanted when he wanted it. During the war, things had been different. He'd never known famine or homelessness, though the latter had gotten close. Still, it had only taken a few months after the Golden Boy had managed victory for life to return to mostly normal. Of course, there was that pesky friend of Potter's who was doing everything she could to turn the world upside down. She was a prime example of how much he distrusted Muggleborns, indeed anyone who thought that Muggle society was better than their own.
Still, even with Granger's chipping away at the fabric of society, Draco felt relatively comfortable in his life. He still had the Manor, his fortune, and more time on his hands than was possibly healthy. He considered himself practical for realizing it. He wouldn't end up like some of the other survivors. He would not fade into the woodwork.
It wasn't that he couldn't find a name for himself anywhere he wanted to. It was that he wanted to do something that would force even his toughest critics to eat their words. That part of him still had the intense need to prove his own skill, that Potter had always just been lucky in school, was a notion he refused to entertain. Still, he had his smirk permanently etched on his face as he walked to the pitch, the latest model Firebolt on his shoulder. He was taller than most Seekers, but the days of Krum and brutish Seekers was over. Now the teams were looking for lithe and agile.
Tutshill was no different, and they were looking for a Seeker. He would be that Seeker.
Ginny hurried onto the pitch, her broom gripped tightly in her hand. She'd been wanting to play Quidditch professionally for years. Having grown up on a pitch had given her an advantage. She was more at home on a broom than most witches were even with their wands. Not that she was any slouch at that either. She simply was no duelist. Until you got her on a broom.
Certainly, they weren't offering her preferred position, but outside the Harpies, she wasn't likely to get the position she wanted. However, she couldn't pass up an opportunity, even if it did take her closer to home. That it was might have been part of the reason she was considering Tutshill in the first place. She couldn't stay away forever. As it was, the four years had nearly killed her.
She missed her parents terribly, and avoiding them hadn't been pleasant. Yet, she had needed time to become who she was supposed to be. Well, that and she had a few other secrets to keep, she thought wryly. After all, eventually, she'd have to tell someone why she'd refused Harry.
That conversation had gotten ugly. She'd told him she'd found someone else while he was off saving the world. It was true. She had. That the relationship had happened accidentally was irrelevant. Thankfully, she'd been able to avoid too many details, but he had gleaned that it had been a Slytherin. The look on his face had said everything. She was tainted. He'd set his jaw and asked one question. How far.
She wasn't sad to give him the answer. She had realized how little she cared for Harry Potter, how she'd been blinded by fame and the symbol just like every other witch. Just like her mother had been with Lockhart. That pair wouldn't have worked either. So, she'd let him go. She didn't cry then, not for that, and not for him. Later she wept as she tried to piece together what she could make of her future.
Looking up at the goal posts, she took a breath. Today she would begin that future. Today, she'd be able to leave her job waiting tables.
"I knew that they were letting anyone compete; I didn't realize exactly how much they meant anyone."
Ginny turned to face the drawl with cool indifference. She wasn't intimidated by him nor was she riled at simply the sound of his voice. He was nothing to her. She knew too much, had seen far more than he imagined.
"Of course I only arrived to irritate you. I stalk you, you know," she replied, sarcasm coating every word. She was rewarded with the briefest reaction, a slight widening of his eyes before he regained his composure.
"Yes, well, too bad you've such a slow broom."
"Is that a gentlemanly offer to allow me to use yours for the trials, Malfoy?" she asked, smiling sweetly.
"I wouldn't want you to fall off and hit your pretty little head."
"You think my head's pretty?" she laughed.
"I was being generous."
"Generous, right." She nodded. "Well, you know what they say about amateurs who need fast brooms, yes?"
He arched an eyebrow, smirking at her. "What do they say?"
"Compensation," she responded in a lilt as she turned away and walked up to the sign-up sheet. She didn't bother hiding the smile as she scrawled her name with a flourish. She didn't care about his broom or his ego. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She did care about his ego. She wanted to crush it.
Draco followed her quickly, signing his own name before heading away from her to await her humiliation.
The day ended up being far longer than he'd expected. He had hoped once they began with speed trials she wouldn't even bother. When she mounted her broom in the heat right before his, he had been surprised. When she wasn't immediately disqualified, he was flat out astonished. He wondered how much of it was her tight arse since it certainly couldn't be speed.
Ginny sat down on the bench panting. Her pulse kept up its tattoo, threatening to burst her eardrums with its intensity. She knew that her broom would be a liability, but she hadn't realized how close she actually would be to not being eliminated quickly. That Malfoy made the first cut didn't surprise her. On his broom, speed was the least of his worries.
They avoided each other the rest of the day. It seemed he had no desire to talk with her, for which she was grateful. She wondered if he wasn't still smarting from her making the time trials with her "outdated broom". The thought was worth the panic she'd felt earlier while racing.
So caught up in her thoughts was she that she nearly missed the voice calling her. Turning, she faced one of the coaches.
"Miss Weasley," he repeated.
"Yes, sorry."
"You technically shouldn't have made the time trials this afternoon."
Her stomach dropped, but her face remained steady. "I know."
"Still, given the speed you pulled out of that broom, I'd like to see what you could do on a more modern broom."
Ginny wasn't certain what to say in response. Though she wasn't sure she could say anything. Was that why they hadn't cut her yet?
"We have brooms available for loan. Stop by the sign up table before you leave."
She nodded to the wizard as he turned on his heel and left.
"Accepting charity already, Weasley?"
She had known he couldn't contain himself too long. It simply wasn't possible. Just as it wasn't in her nature to ignore the barb. She'd simply grown to a new understanding since her sixth year.
"Hardly. I just don't see what's wrong with accepting a little help in evening the playing field." Ginny turned slightly to look at him over her shoulder. "After all, weren't you commenting about how difficult it would be for me to make a decent showing on my own broom? Surely a resourceful wizard," she mocked him with her emphasis, "like yourself wouldn't begrudge a girl a little help."
She enjoyed the darkening of his eyes, though the look reminded her of someone else briefly. She shook her head, hoping he'd take it that she was dismissing him as she was really trying to clear her head of black hair and dark brown eyes.
The thought led to how long the trials had lasted, and she quickly glanced at her watch, letting out a small squeak.
"I'd ask if you had a hot date you forgot about, but we both know no one would date you."
"Shove it, Malfoy," she spat, then hurried off without any further conversation. She hated being late, and she was already well past her time.
"You don't get to walk off on me. I get to snub you!" he hissed, keeping up with her easily.
Ginny stopped for only a moment. "Look, Malfoy, fine. Snub me. Walk off, but I'm late, so do it quick, I don't have time to wait on you."
She didn't stop her hurried pace. She had to reach the Apparition point and get to the child minder quickly. That Celeste had told her she understood about the trials was the only thing keeping her as calm as she was.
"Must be a second job, is that it? Couldn't get time off from whatever it is you do all day?" he laughed, venom laced velvet.
"Yes, exactly. Now that you've gotten that out of your system, can I go now?"
Draco couldn't believe what was happening. She wasn't crying, she wasn't getting angry, not the right kind of angry at least. She even agreed with him, which shouldn't have happened. Had she been next to tears or any other negative emotion, he would have been satisfied. No, she was agreeing with him to get him to leave her alone. That was unacceptable.
"Only when you tell me where you're heading." Without fully comprehending what he was doing, he grabbed her arm. His only thought had been to keep her where he could insult her.
He cursed and pulled himself closer, praying to Merlin, Circe and anyone else who would listen that he didn't end up splinched. Once he felt solid ground beneath his feet, he staggered backwards, hands hurriedly checking for evidence of left body parts.
"Merlin's beard, witch! What were you thinking?"
Ginny stood staring at him, clutching her wand convulsively. "I was thinking I was bloody leaving you behind!" The panic in her voice was unmistakable.
At once, Draco smirked. Her discomfort was delicious and put him at ease. He could practically feel her heart beat speed up as he looked around. They were standing outside a small house. He didn't recognize the town, but he could see the sea off in the distance in a direction he presumed was east.
"Get out of here, Malfoy. Just go!"
"Mommy!" came a high-pitched cry.
Draco looked past the now sickly pale witch to see a small boy with black hair running as fast as his little legs would carry him. Draco felt his lip curl up at the child who was heading straight for the witch next to him.
"I'm sorry, Miss Weasley, I hadn't realized you had a friend with you. He's been watching out the window waiting for you."
Ginny knelt down and picked up the toddler, turning somewhat to shield the boy from Draco. From the way she juggled child and broom easily, it was obvious she was quite familiar with this scenario. She walked toward the house, shaking her head. "No, he was just leaving. I'm sorry for being so late."
Draco watched the display with sick fascination as she apologized again to the witch. The boy stared back at him from over Ginny's shoulder, half-hiding behind her hair. He couldn't hear the conversation, nor did he actually try to eavesdrop. He was too wrapped up in the new information.
So, Little Miss Perfect was an unwed mother. Draco had never thought much of Potter, but now he wondered if even that little had been too much. Either she was single or she was effectively so. Neither option improved his mood.
He stood rooted to the spot warring with himself. Guilt and shame were not familiar to a Malfoy, and as a result, they usually preceded even more cruelty than was standard. He sneered as she walked back down toward him.
"Are you just that horrible to live with or is it Potter's just that much a louse?"
She glared at him, pulling the child closer. "He's not Harry's."
Draco felt his eyes go wide and his jaw drop slightly. He wasn't Potter's? It only took a moment to approximate the age of the child. At two or three, he had to be born a year or two after the war. He hadn't exactly followed Potter since, but now thinking about it he realized he hadn't seen her name attached to his in any of the headlines.
"You mean someone else would have you?"
Ginny narrowed her eyes, holding the child close. "A Slytherin in fact," she snarled. "You don't know me anymore, Malfoy. If you ever come near me or my son again, you will regret it."
Something about the tone of voice she used kept him from opening his mouth. He'd always assumed she was as weak as the rest of her lot, but perhaps it was learning a lesson taught by her mother besting one of the best duelists around. Hearing the tale of Molly Weasley killing his deranged aunt to protect her child was a graphic lesson in the prowess of a mother lion.
He had more sense than his late aunt. He nodded briefly, then Apparated away.
Ginny managed to avoid him throughout the next day's trials. Under other circumstances, he'd have been pleased. Thrilled even. Unfortunately, he'd spent the entire night dreaming about her and that brat of hers. The whole affair had him up well before dawn in the most irritable mood.
Refusing to examine his own emotions too much, Draco had headed to the trials wondering whether she'd lied about sleeping with a Slytherin, in which case he'd take great pleasure in destroying her. The other possibility, that she in fact had born a child by a Slytherin, was more upsetting.
All of the Slytherins he'd known in school might not have been honorable by standard means, but one did pay for one's mistakes, even if they were with a blood traitor. It wasn't always marriage, but it was always money, and she was obviously taking care of herself.
Distracted by thoughts of the redhead, he took much longer to catch the snitch than he should have. When he did land, the looks on the faces of the judges concurred, though he still wasn't disqualified, a blessing for which he was grateful.
To add insult to injury, she was smirking at him. She who was filling his thoughts with all manner of distressing imagery was enjoying his discomfort.
Part of him admitted, reluctantly, that he respected her. As he watched her rise into the air for her trial, he noticed how well she handled the borrowed broom. She hadn't been the only one to be given one, a point which did not escape his notice. Most, however, faltered unable to handle the quirks of a different broom under the pressure of the day. A few did well however, and Draco noted with admiration that she was adaptable, a trait he admired far above sheer talent.
Ginny caught the snitch, landing as quickly as she could, thankful for the many times she'd ended up borrowing brooms during the Burrow quidditch matches. No one could guarantee playing with the same broom every game, so being flexible was an advantage. That tradition served her well as she saw the glimpse of something flicker through Draco's expression.
Theo had told her he was different away from the throng, though she'd never wanted to believe it. However, there was no mistaking he was impressed as she walked past him to hand the snitch to the judges.
Certainly, his behavior the night before had changed the moment he knew she'd been with a Slytherin. She couldn't keep the chuckle from herself. He was such an elitist, and yet, she thought there might have been jealousy there. It served him right.
Ginny had no sooner sat down to watch the rest of the trials than he sat next to her. She'd avoided him all day, but the moment she let her guard down, he was there. It irritated her and she prepared herself for the onslaught.
A number of things had gone through Draco's head as he headed toward her. The truly vicious child in him wanted to continue to berate her, belittle her, but as he approached her, the lectures his father had given him pounded through his mind.
"Who's the father?" he asked quietly. It wasn't out of respect for her so much as discretion in general.
Ginny started, then looked at him askance. "Why does it matter to you?" Draco nearly flinched at the venom in her voice. She'd obviously been asked the same question innumerable times.
"I was always raised to watch after any," he paused, "I was raised to not abandon any issue of mine, and I'm fairly certain the same could be said for any Slytherin in our age bracket." He tried to deliver the comment as tenderly as possible. The thought she hadn't told the father crept into his mind, but he dismissed it. She didn't seem the type, and if she wasn't trying to pass it off as Potter's, then there really was no point unless the bloke had been married.
Her back eased slightly when the expected barb didn't come. She turned away to look out at the pitch and the wizard who was currently battling his own borrowed broom. No one had told her that about most Slytherins, but then again, it wasn't as if she'd talked about the entire affair much at all.
She debated telling him precisely who the father was. She didn't need his pity, but it wasn't as if there was any reputation at stake save hers.
"Theo."
She waited for the reaction, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. He didn't disappoint. She watched what little color his face had blanch. The muscle in his jaw twitched before going slack, his lips parting slightly. If she hadn't imagined it, his fingers twitched slightly as they were clasped in his lap.
It required no Legilimency on her part to read the questions forming behind his eyes. Part of her wondered if he would be capable of voicing any of them. The rest didn't want to wait to find out.
When he nodded slightly, she nodded. "So now you know," she answered, standing up. The final applicant was landing empty- handed after being called down by the coaches. She wove her way through the crowd of potentials ensuring as much space between Malfoy and her. Her attempt seemed successful as she didn't have to deal with any more of his probing.
Draco groaned as he opened his eyes to stare at the tiled ceiling. Theo. She was raising the only heir to the Nott family as a Muggle-loving Weasley. The thought didn't carry as much conviction as he knew it should have. She wasn't a tramp, though her silence regarding the father had made him believe she was. She wasn't denying the father a chance to own up to things. Theo had died in the crossfire of the final battle.
He balled his fists and pressed them against his eyes. They had never been close friends while in school, but there had always been a certain amount of respect for the weedy loner. Their fathers fought together, so being thrown together periodically was par for the course.
Now, his only child was being raised by Weasley.
Draco kept returning to that thought. He wanted to hate her for it, wanted to believe Theo had used the girl, that it had been the infernal Weasley fertility that had caused the problem.
Except he knew it wasn't.
Theo had never been the kind to find a shag wherever he could. He'd never forcibly fallen in step with anyone for any reason. He might have kept to himself, he might have held his tongue, but he hadn't properly sold out. That meant he'd seen something Draco had never let himself.
His friend had found worth in a Gryffindor blood traitor, enough to risk a tryst while in school. Draco allowed his thoughts to drift to the redhead, trying to see in her what Theo had, if only to reconcile his thoughts of his dead friend.
Disconcertingly, the images came readily enough. Her warm chocolate eyes danced when she was flying. She wasn't fragile unlike the pure-blood girls both he and Theo had fawning all over them, like the ones who still tried with Draco now. No, the littlest Weasley was strong enough to give back whatever she took.
Draco fell asleep to thoughts of Ginevra Weasley trying not to think what it meant that he was so easily swayed to thinking positively about her now.
Ginny approached the pitch with an unusual sense of calm. Theo had behaved this morning when she'd dropped him off with Celeste. The apparition point hadn't been congested, and best yet, there was no sign of Malfoy.
At the pitch, she noticed a crowd milling about a table. She furrowed her brow as she approached, broom clutched tightly in her small fist. Several voices rose in heated debate complaining about having come to the pitch only to find out they'd been cut from the potentials. A few of them glared in her direction, sneering so vehemently as to compete with the worst she'd received in school.
None of them could dampen her mood, however. She refused to let them. Ginny wouldn't allow herself to worry that she'd been cut. That she'd made it through the first day was quite the feat already. A couple of wizards shoved past her, nearly knocking her over.
"Bloody coaches. If they knew yesterday who was going to make it, they should have just let the rest of us go."
"Waste of my time."
Ginny's heart skipped a beat. Had they really announced the position? She couldn't imagine they'd have announce the position. Not yet.
"Congratulations, Ginevra," the always familiar drawl came from off to her side.
Ginny spun her head to face him. She tried to control her surprise with irritation. "It's Ginny." He had the audacity to chuckle. Her brain caught up with the conversation. "Congratulations?"
"You caught that, did you?"
Her face lit up as she pushed through the crowd toward the table. Part of her tensed, half expecting him to follow. Half- way through, she glanced behind her. As short as she was, he was nowhere to be found, which likely meant he was still on the outskirts of the crowd. She set her jaw and wove her way through the rest of the people until she was directly before the table. Her eyes scanned the parchments charmed to the table. Sure enough, she'd made the final cut. Malfoy's name just above hers registered distantly.
She reached out, grabbing the envelope that bore her name and turning to push her way back to fresher air. Once there, she opened it quickly.
"We're to return this evening. They want us each to run through the same obstacle course under identical lights."
It was with those simple words that her world threatened to crash around her. She had to come back tonight?
"Tonight?" she whispered, her voice rough against her ears. Her mind turned in on itself, running through possibilities on how to make this work. "I can't," she whispered. "Theo."
Draco grabbed her by the arm, and Ginny blindly followed. If she hadn't been good enough, she'd have accepted the loss and moved on. But to lose it because she didn't have a child minder?
Hot breath tickled her ear, bringing her back to the present. "Look, under other circumstances I'd be more than happy to let you give up, but," he paused, pulling away slightly before returning his lips to almost tickling range. "I can arrange something."
Pride rose up in her chest. "What makes you think I need your help? I'll just floo my mother or one of my brothers."
Draco was standing in front of her now, both hands on her shoulders. "First, if you were in good with your family, you wouldn't have needed to leave him with a minder at all. Second, consider it the obligation of the Slytherin Prince from his class."
She hadn't realized how transparent her self-imposed exile would be. He was right, however. If she'd been able to rely on her mother, she would never have needed Celeste. Her frustration came out as bitter arrogance.
"I don't want your charity."
He shook her. "It's not charity, and it's not for you. It's for him. So get over yourself, Weasley."
Ginny hadn't expected him to be irritated that she hadn't taken him seriously. Suspicion and curiosity overrode her wounded pride. "What do you get out of it?"
Draco smirked, but not the usual smirk he'd given her in school. No, this had been a smirk reserved for girls far higher up his imaginary food chain. Now he was giving it to her. Her concern soared.
"I get the possibility of keeping Theo's son from becoming a Gryffindor." Ginny couldn't keep from feeling a bit disappointed. "Look, let me take you to lunch, quiet, out of the way place--"
"Afraid to be seen with me, Malfoy?" she asked, unable to keep her ire completely hidden. Unfortunately, it didn't sound as offended as she had hoped.
He smiled indulgently, an infuriating expression, "Hardly, but as we'll be discussing the son you don't share with the world I thought you'd appreciate some privacy."
She couldn't argue with him over that, except the absolute self-assurance that she would talk with him more. The worst part was, he was right. The bloody wanker was right. The relief she'd felt after finally being able to share with someone any information about her son had been overwhelming. Giving in with a nod, Ginny felt herself being led to the apparition point.
Vaguely, Ginny wondered if the only thing she'd ever needed to get him to be a gentleman was to get the Slytherin stamp of approval from someone else first. It nearly made her laugh in spite of the debt she would owe him if this continued. Allowing him to take her arm and Apparate them both to outside a small cafe.
Ginny didn't recognize Pierre's or the area around it. The town, however, did prove as anonymous as he'd promised. Judging by the air, she figured they were near the sea, but she wasn't sure which one as she couldn't see it beyond the buildings.
She only missed a half-beat in her reverie, following his lead into the cafe with the briefest of tugs from her companion.
The cafe was a small family run place, yet very upscale, not someplace she'd have entered without him. The distinction was only more cleanly felt by the fact she wouldn't have dreamed of bringing Theo here. There were too many nice chairs for spills and the wooden tables simply an invitation to carving with his fork.
Draco led her to a bistro table, holding the chair out for her as she sat down. "Thank you," she acknowledged. He inclined his head in response and sat down opposite.
"So you named his son after him?" he asked quietly. There was no trace of the arrogant self-centered child in the man sitting there asking her respectfully about her son. She knew she should be jolted, but she wanted to enjoy it.
Ginny nodded. "It seemed appropriate. Theodore Nott Weasley." She noted he contained the twitch mostly.
"And he's what, three now?" She nodded. "So why haven't you told your mother?"
"How do you know I haven't?"
He chuckled, "Because despite differences of political views, I happen to be very sure that your mother would not allow a grandchild of hers to go without her nurturing care." The final words said wryly.
Ginny shifted uncomfortably. How was it he knew her so well? The concept she might have always been this transparent bothered her greatly.
"Is there any other part of my life you'd like to tell me?" she asked, matching him tone for tone.
Draco smiled. "And deny you the chance to surprise me?"
"I thought I already had."
He chuckled. "That you have." He watched her face shift, unsure of what to do with the jovial amiable Draco Malfoy that she'd never seen.
He wasn't entirely sure what to do with it either. He knew he felt responsible for her child. He couldn't explain it even to himself so he hoped fervently that she wouldn't ask him to.
"And you, taking a Weasley out?"
"Ahh, but a Weasley raising a Slytherin pure-blood."
"And that makes it all better?" she asked, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips.
"Of course it does." He leaned toward her slightly. "I wonder what else Theo taught you."
The playfulness was too much for Ginny. She pulled away, shaking her head. "Don't, just don't."
Draco tilted his head. "Don't what?"
"We're not friends, Malfoy. No matter what we can pretend in this cafe, we have never been and we can't be."
He frowned, "Why can't we be?"
It was her turn to laugh, "What do you mean why can't we be?" Ginny pushed her chair away, "I appreciate all you want to do for Theo, I do, but this?" she motioned between them, "You and me? We are just too different."
Draco hurriedly stood up. "Fine, at least let my mother mind him tonight so you can finish the trial."
"Why are you doing this? I don't need your help." She didn't mean to sound so agitated and calmed a bit as he merely rolled his eyes.
"You may not, but again, this isn't for you." He smirked, a far more comfortable expression in Ginny's mind. "If you'd rather, you can think I simply want to beat you on the pitch since it's no fun lording the victory over you if you don't compete because of your son. Or perhaps I want you in my debt."
Ginny began laughing. She was sure all of those were likely causes, but to hear him offer her the choice of his motive was something she found darkly amusing. "Ahh, but since you are practically begging me," she countered, wondering if this tactic would work on all Slytherins or just the one she'd known before, "Then wouldn't allowing your mother to mind my son be considered me doing you a favor?"
In an instant, Draco's smirk fell and Ginny could see true respect reflected in the silver orbs. She decided she liked that look.
He bowed slightly at her, eyes alight. "You are indeed not the girl you once were. Remind me to pay my respects to your tutor." He motioned to the table, "Would you allow me to prepay my favor with food?"
Ginny put on her best haughty air and nodded, sitting back down. "Why yes, I believe I shall."
They shared a small chuckle as he sat down and motioned for the waiter who had been standing off to the side to step forward.
Hours later, Ginny was still reeling from being introduced to what must have been the real Draco Malfoy. Or perhaps he'd just grown up too. She had agreed to meet with him after picking up Theo. When she thought about how he'd gotten her to agree, the details were fuzzy. Through the warmth, he'd lowered her guard, and it seemed only fair to let him properly meet the man who was offering to help her with the trial.
Standing just beyond Celeste's property, she faltered. Had Draco truly changed? Was this some ploy? What could he want from her? She refused outright to believe that he simply wanted a fair fight. He never had cared about that before. Before, however, he had seen her as someone from a different world. Of course, she had been. Weasleys and Malfoys simply didn't converse pleasantly. Yet they had. Once she'd well and fully agreed to sharing a meal with him and allowing her son to be watched over by his mother, things had gone very smoothly.
His mother. The weight of her agreement fell flatly against her gut. She had agreed to let her son be alone with Narcissa Malfoy. That his father would be there too had never been mentioned, though she doubted he would ensure the man's absence. It was his home. His home.
Ginny clutched at her stomach and stumbled back, reeling slightly. Her vision swam as her lungs fought for air. She shook her head with the effort of throwing from her mind Lucius Malfoy holding her son. No matter what his son may have done to redeem himself, no amount of Gryffindor bravado was worth that. Yes, she'd acted before she thought, yes she'd been enchanted by his charm and wit, oh Merlin was he witty.
No! She couldn't. She'd just turn around, she was early as it was, and she'd tell Draco she couldn't do it.
Getting her feet to work only caused her to spin directly into a hard chest. Her head shot up hoping not to see what she knew she would, gray eyes and white-blond hair.
"What are you doing here?" she gasped, part of her impressed that her lungs had had enough air to get that through. Still, her traitorous body refused to fight off his stabilizing arms that were suddenly there.
"Are you all right?" he asked, completely bypassing her question.
"Of course I'm not all right," she spat, pulling away. "You bloody well got me to agree to leave my son in a Death Eater home for the night," she accused in an angry whisper.
Draco's face set, and the small part that had been able to resist his charm cheered in victory. See, it shouted, he hasn't changed!
"My mother is not and never was," he responded in a similar whisper.
"But your father--"
"Is out of the country on business and he won't return until the morning." She shot him a look she knew he wouldn't misinterpret. "Not that kind of business. He's doing some investing in America, it'll be daylight there?"
He rolled his eyes and turned from her slightly before deciding a full frontal attack was more advantageous. "I want you at that trial, Weasley," she noted the last name with more disappointment. "Why would I ask you to leave your son with someone I knew you couldn't imagine would have an ounce of paternal care, of which, incidentally, he has more than most fathers. Theo was my friend, do you really think I'd wish his son harm?"
Guilt and shame were ugly companions, and never more so than when displayed across a pale freckled face. "I don't think you wish harm to my son," she managed, trying to focus on small truths to offer him. "I just don't trust your father. Our history is far too grim for me to simply forget it." Memories flashed through in a demented slide show of her interactions with Lucius Malfoy. The fist fight from her childhood, the diary, the Quidditch World Cup, the diary stories from Harry about Malfoy manor during the war, the diary.
Some of the horror must have made it to her face because the gentleman had returned, stepping up and clasping her shoulders gently. "Ginevra, if I had thought for one moment that your son would be in any danger at my parents' house, with my mother," he emphasized softly, "then I would never have offered." When she didn't seem to snap out of her thoughts, he squeezed a little tighter. "Besides," he chuckled slightly, "What good would it do me to lose my leverage on you?"
Ginny smiled weakly and nodded. Yes, that was a rationale she could hold onto. She and her son were worth more alive than dead to the Malfoys. That was it.
"Now, will you be all right if I leave you here and go warn my mother I've volunteered her evening away." He smiled down at her with a slightly guilty grin.
Ginny chuckled. "Oh I'm sure she'll love that."
"Yes, at least I'm offering her the opportunity to play manners tutor with a pure-blood," he smirked, then winked, "It might soften the blow."
"Now, my son is very well behaved."
"At which point, my mother will begin lessons on Wizards Chess."
Realizing he was not going to let her win this one, she conceded the point and moved back to her original question. "Why did you follow me?"
She wasn't sure whether to be comforted or aggravated by the smirk he affected. When he spoke, she decided to go for comfort. "A good Slytherin is always playing chess. We're always planning a few contingencies in advance."
"You knew I'd falter?" she asked.
"Let's just say, I knew it was a strong probability that you hadn't thought about the whole thing when you left, but it was going to catch up with you. I just had to guess when."
She pushed on his chest, shoving him away with oddly intimate false anger. "You played me."
"No no" he insisted quickly, hands up, the move somewhat countered by the lightness of his voice. "I merely thought it was in my best interests to not bring him up, but then you hadn't, and I realized I should."
Ginny pulled away, wrapping her arms around herself as if warding off the friendliness of their interactions. She nodded, however, and smiled somewhat. "Yes, well, we should keep your father as a topic of discussion for another day. One long far off."
A flicker of irritation showed, but he nodded. "You won't change your mind again will you? About tonight?"
"No. I can't say I'm perfectly all right with it, but I will be there, and bring Theo with me."
Draco nodded satisfied. He popped out of existence leaving her alone with her thoughts again.
"Mummy!"
She put on her best smile and knelt down, picking up her son and swinging him around before walking toward the door. "Hey, baby, were you good for Celeste today?" He nodded enthusiastically.
"He was very good. You're early, did things not go well?" Celeste asked. The witch reminded Ginny so much of her mother sometimes it hurt. Brown hair and a tan were sometimes the only differences with their similar portly physique and their overbearing mothering. Still, that was in part why she'd chosen the woman.
"Oh, things are fine, they changed things up, however, so I have to go in tonight."
As predicted, the witch's expression clearly showed her distress. "Miss Weasley, I can't keep him tonight."
"It's all right, Celeste, I've made arrangements. That's part of why I let him stay here today." She set Theo down. He hugged her once, then headed off to play after a slight nudge.
"With your young man?" The smile was unmistakable.
"He's not my young man, but yes, well, technically his mother. He's actually part of my competition."
Celeste raised an eyebrow, "And why would your competition help you?"
"Oh don't do this to me," Ginny started. Celeste had been there through a few failed dates; Ginny couldn't rightfully call them relationships. Now the woman seemed to think herself an expert on what Ginny needed. That it might be true bothered Ginny on more than one occasion, and she wondered if her own mother could have prevented some of the pain as well.
"I'm simply saying," Celeste continued, "That he seems like a very nice young man, and it's clear he cares about you."
"He doesn't care about me. He cares about Theo, and that only because he knew the father."
Celeste laughed, "He may tell you that. He may even tell himself that, but Theo and I were watching you two, and you don't act that way toward someone if you only want something out of them."
"He's a trained actor," Ginny countered. She comforted herself with knowing it wasn't precisely a lie. He had been trained. It was simply a different kind of acting than one saw on the stage.
"Not that good. He was standing there watching you before you noticed him."
At this, Ginny's eyes narrowed. "Exactly how long were you and Theo watching that window?"
Celeste laughed, "Long enough. It's his fault, really. He seems to always know when you've Apparated, and he was the one who insisted we not announce our presence."
The cunning little--
Ginny cut her thoughts off. If she really was raising a Slytherin, Draco might have been more right than he knew. She had no idea what to do with one. Maybe if she'd been honest with her mother, taken him to the Burrow, maybe the combined effort of the Weasley clan could change him into a Gryffindor.
She knew it wouldn't happen. Well, it might have been possible, but would he have been truly happy in Gryffindor? And would his true and proper nature emerge at some point without him having the advantage of understanding it?
She sighed a happily indulgent sigh, "That's my little boy."
"And so you volunteered me to mind her son this evening?" his mother's melodic voice rang through the room. Draco nodded silently. "What's in it for you?"
"He's Theo's son. The boy deserves every chance he can get and we both know that won't happen if Ginevra is working at whatever foolish job it is unwed mothers work at."
Narcissa eyed her son, the hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. "Ginevra?"
Draco groaned, "Mother."
She put up her hand, "Fine. Are you throwing the competition then?"
"Circe, no," he smirked. "If she wants it, she'll have to take it. I won't be giving it to her."
He calmed visibly as he watched his mother chuckle. "Good. I'd hate to wonder what had happened to the son I raised."
Draco smiled, "Mum, someone needs to make sure that Theo's son is raised to be a good pure-blood Slytherin."
"And is his welfare the only one for which you are concerned?" Her tone left little to the imagination. Draco knew precisely where her thoughts had led.
He narrowed his eyes at her. She raised her eyebrows in return.
Draco lowered his eyes just slightly, just enough to show his mother deference. Without seeing her eyes, he knew she'd softened her gaze.
"She is not the girl I knew in school."
"She is a Weasley," his mother countered smoothly. He knew in her tone she was not truly upset at his interactions with the girl, but it was in her nature to consider all options.
"Yes, one who has not seen her family in years. One who is now the mother of a pure-blood. His family has not had the chance to do them right."
"His family is dead, Draco. You owe her nothing."
"I owe her this. Theo should have taken care of her."
Narcissa laughed, "Calm yourself, Draco. I will mind her son this evening so you and she can go compete for a position you don't want and she shouldn't need."
"Thank you, Mum."
"Don't thank me yet," she retorted, smirking as she dismissed him.
Draco got the distinct impression she was planning something. From years of experience, he knew better then to fight it. She would plot and plan, and he would follow. It had always been thus. It had been her cunning that had saved their family during the war. It had been her lead that had kept their fortunes and reputations relatively intact.
She had voiced the obligatory disapproval, but he suspected she felt the same as he. Pure-blood still stood for something, even if half of it was traitor.
Draco felt new respect for the traitor as she stood at the door to the manor, holding the hand of her young son. To her credit, no fear or distaste showed, no hesitation as he stood at the door for them to enter.
"Draco."
"Ginevra." he turned to offer his hand to her son. "Theo." The child took his hand on his mother's prompting, shaking it.
"Ginevra, Theo, welcome to our home." Draco turned to see his mother standing a half-step behind him. Her gaze was focused on the child standing there.
Up close, it was easy to see Theo in the sharp angles and the way his hair fell. The eyes were definitely from his mother, as was the pale splatter of freckling.
"Thank you for your help, Mrs Malfoy," Ginny said. "I appreciate your help. Are you sure this is all right?"
"Of course it is," his mother dismissed the concern expertly. "Theo and I will have quite a bit of fun."
Draco couldn't fully keep the chuckle from causing his lips to twitch slightly. "Mum has been wanting grandchildren. This will give her a chance to practice." He ducked dramatically, stepping away from his mother and the door.
"Yes, well, maybe you should start thinking about settling down," his mother chided him.
Ginny laughed from her position kneeling in front of her son, whispering in his ear. Theo nodded, then kissed her before stepping away.
"Thank you again, Mrs Malfoy."
Stepping out of the house and Apparating to the pitch had been one of the more difficult decisions Ginny had ever made. Still, pride, stubbornness, and maybe the fact that she was one of five finalists for the position had each helped in turn.
As she looked at the pitch, she tried to remind herself she wasn't a poor mother. If she could get this job, she'd be able to afford so much more for her son. No more worries about rent checques or poor tippers.
Once they'd arrived, Draco had separated from her, talking with one of the other potential Seekers. Ginny had headed to the side, trying to avoid listening to anyone. She was close enough to hear the coaches and waited for them. She didn't have to wait long. They had erected a small tent on the pitch and ushered everyone inside. They had charmed a snitch to perform a complex series of moves that each of them would follow. The first through the course would get the position.
Ginny paced the tent. Draco was flying currently; she would go next. A glance at the only other one in the tent proved he was just as nervous as she, though he seemed to be taking it out on his broom judging by the white knuckles she caught glimpses of now and then.
"Miss Weasley."
She turned to see the assistant coach at the entrance. "You're up."
Draco slumped onto the bench. The snitch had led him on a merry chase, nearly causing him to fall off his broom several times. Judging by the looks on the other two who had already completed the course, he figured they'd had similar experiences. He couldn't even bring himself to watch Ginny as she chased after the elusive golden demon. He'd had trouble, and he was on his own broom. She was on the borrowed Nimbus.
To keep himself from watching, he focused on his mother's suggestion that he was interested in something beyond Theo. He didn't like where such thoughts led. With practiced ease, he segmented his thoughts and compartmentalized his feelings.
Soon enough, he felt the bench shift as someone sat down near him. He turned to the side to see Ginny flushed with a vague smile on her face. A slight hint of sweat glistened over the freckles. She was breathing heavily, but unlike himself or the other two who had competed, her eyes were on fire.
Draco decided he liked that look on her and wondered why he'd been so blind in school. Distantly, he realized that maybe that was part of what Theo had found in her as well.
The final applicant was in the air. Neither of the two wizards who had preceded him seemed to care, and Draco hadn't been all that interested in watching, but Ginny was staring at the snitch, watching only other witch who had made it this far. Draco studied the redhead, amazed at the passion she showed. He wasn't sure if he had simply missed it before or if she hadn't allowed herself to really indulge in her love of the game.
He was completely lost in his own thoughts as the trials ended and the coaches announced they'd have a decision in the morning. The outward picture of calm, Draco escorted Ginny back to the Manor. She seemed caught up in her own thoughts which suited him fine.
Ginny couldn't sleep. She stared at the fire, wide awake and unable to keep her thoughts from straying. Theo had babbled incessantly for a full hour after she'd picked him up from the Malfoy's. It seemed Draco's offhand comment about her wanting grandchildren hadn't been all that exaggerated. When they'd left, his mother had insisted she bring him by again.
Pulling her knees up, she sighed loudly. Her thoughts strayed yet again to the silver eyes that had been watching her. Draco Malfoy had shown her a very different person over the course of the day. The rational part of her complained, trying to remind her that one day's worth of behavior wasn't enough to change her mind.
Twisting, she flopped lengthwise on the couch. It would have been far easier to dismiss today as odd behavior if her son had reacted differently. He was enamoured. He had asked when he could go back to "Aunt Cissy's." Ginny could kill her for that, except it had been so wonderful to hear him excited about going to see anyone. Theo didn't mind Celeste, but he hadn't ever been as excited about her as he was about his evening with Narcissa Malfoy.
She groaned, mumbling to herself that her life would never be the same.
Ginny woke to a small hand on her arm, "Mummy?" She sat bolt upright, very much awake, her heart pounding in her chest. "Mummy?"
"It's ok, Theo. Mummy didn't get a nap last night." She yawned loudly as she got up. "I'll get you breakfast."
He giggled in response. "Owl! Owl!" Ginny looked down as he tugged on her hand, then followed his small hand to where a brown owl was tapping on the glass impatiently.
Ginny hurried to the window and opened it. The owl hopped onto the ledge, holding its leg out with what she was certain was censure. Ignoring the creature's attitude, she retrieved the letter and fed it a treat as she opened it up with shaking hands. The letter had been sealed with the sigil of the Tutshill Tornadoes.
Miss Ginevra Weasley,
It is with great pleasure we offer you the position of Seeker on the team. Please be prepared to attend practice on Saturday, 5 August 2002.
Sincerely,
Gordon Tennshire
Coach, Tutshill Tornadoes
Ginny squealed and spun around, picking up a startled Theo.
"Mummy?"
"Mummy got the job! Mummy got the job!" she cried, tears falling as Theo began cheering with her.
"I think this calls for a celebration. Do you want to go for breakfast?" Theo nodded excitedly, wriggling to get down. Ginny laughed and followed him to his bedroom.
They had just gotten to Melani's Waffle House when she was stopped by a melodic voice.
"Miss Weasley, Master Weasley."
Theo turned in her grip, "Aunt Cissy!" he exclaimed causing Ginny to blush. She tugged on his hand slightly, shushing him.
"Hello, Mrs Malfoy," she nodded to her then the man next to her, "Draco."
"Ginevra," Draco drawled.
"We're going to eat! Wanna join?"
Ginny hadn't thought she could blush brighter, but her face found new heights with her son's innocent intruding. "Theo," she admonished in a whisper. "I'm sure Mrs Malfoy has far more important things to do."
"Nonsense," Narcissa smiled. "We were just about to eat as well. If you don't mind the company?"
"No, not at all," Ginny choked. She thought about the reason for the breakfast, then decided she wouldn't allow Draco's presence to dampen her spirits. "We were just celebrating."
"Oh?" Narcissa asked. "What are you celebrating, Theo?"
Ginny found the Malfoy matron's interest in her son disturbing, but caught her eye was how Draco hadn't flinched as her son blurted out, "Mummy got the job!"
"Oh that's wonderful!" Narcissa said.
"Congratulations," Draco smirked, nodding to her.
He seemed to have expected the result which brought her pride boiling to the surface. "Did you take a dive, Malfoy?" she asked, deliberately using his surname.
"Excuse me?" he asked, his voice gaining a hard edge.
Narcissa glanced between the two, then stepped forward to take Theo's hand. "Come, Theo, we'll get a table and let Mommy and Draco talk."
Ginny opened her mouth to protest, but Narcissa held up her hand. "Talk." She closed her mouth and nodded as Narcissa took her son into the cafe.
"Did you throw the trial?" she repeated.
Draco stepped up to her, the faint scent of his cologne teasing her senses. "Malfoys do not throw competitions."
"But you seemed to not be surprised when I got it."
He chuckled, and Ginny found the sound both enticing and repellent, though more the former than the latter. She stiffened as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "That's because I knew the only one who could beat me out was you."
She inhaled sharply, her face burning again. If she wasn't careful, the blush would become permanent. It took everything she had not to lean into him. A desire she wanted to deny could ever have existed.
"Now, shall we join my mother and your son?" he asked, his voice husky against her ear.
Ginny shook, then took a deep breath, stepping back. "Wait," she put her hand up to keep him from stepping close again. At his questioning glance, she continued. "Which is real?"
"Pardon?"
"Which is real? The spoiled brat who hated me completely or the gentleman who you showed me yesterday? I know Theo thinks your mother is wonderful, and it only confuses me more, so I want to know. Is this real?"
He smirked then and offered his arm. "Only one way to find out."
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive in your fic
I would like something to do with the theme, and it would be awesome if Ginny could win. Or if it was a really really close race, or something. I want to see the challenge.
The tone/mood of the fic: Romantic. Witty. Banter is a plus!
An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic: A hidden secret. Either one or both could know about it - up to author.
Preferred rating of the the fic you want: G - PG-13
Canon or AU? Either
Deal Breakers (anything you don't want?): A lot of Harry