A/N – If Molly Weasley is a little OC, then it is quite deliberate. I wanted to see if anyone other than Ron could be irrational and stubbornly against Draco, although it may not have turned out the way I wanted.
CHAPTER 3 - Matchmaking
A few days later, Molly Weasley, in a matchmaking mood, invited her only daughter and her beau to a family dinner at the Burrow. Ginny and Gerald had been a couple for nearly four months now, and her mother had wedding bells ringing in her ears. Ginny suspected that her mother quite liked the idea of Gerald as a son-in-law - certainly he was far more respectable than her own children. But Ginny wasn't sure that she actually wanted to marry Gerald - especially not when her mother seemed to dote on him so much. In fact, that was a very persuasive argument all of its own: Ginny and her mother rarely ever saw eye to eye anymore, not after she had decided that she no longer loved Harry Potter and didn't want to marry him anymore.
Oh, Lady, the trouble that had caused...!
Nevertheless, Ginny had proved that she was just as stubborn as her mother, and had finally won the battle for her own independence. She'd moved out of the house, got a flat in Diagon Alley, and had eventually earned the money to start up her own business, her second hand book shop. And her family still thought of her as the youngest, as helpless, as too young to be out on her own. Hence the fascination with Gerald - he was steady, reliable, and financially secure - marry him and Ginny needn't worry about anything anymore, Gerald would do all that for her.
No, no, no, no, no!
Especially not after seeing him through Malfoy's eyes. Malfoy's cool, cynical, aristocratic eyes that had so clearly seen and mocked everything she had been trying to ignore in Gerald. He was a bore. A pompous bore who thought of her business as a whim, as something she would give up once she had a house and babies of her own. And not only was he pompous, insensitive and far more interested in money than in her, he was a fool. He hadn't even bothered to look past Malfoy's dishevelled appearance - he'd taken one look and dismissed him. Ginny and her brothers might have hated Malfoy, despised him, fought, cursed and hexed him, but they had never ever underestimated him.
And on top of all that, her mother approved of him and was trying to pressure her into marrying him. That had been the last straw. After dinner tonight, they would have to talk. Her plans for the new improved Ginny did not include him. Then who do they include? asked a small, insidious voice. She dismissed it immediately. There would be time enough for man hunting later. First she would have to get through dinner. Then, after getting rid of Gerald, she would think about it.
*********************************
The Malfoy estate was deep in the heart of Wales, cradled by steep mountains and deep green valleys, a land of dark, ancient forests and shadowy groves that hid secrets far older than Christ. And the oldest secret of all was found in the heart of the estate, in the Grove - a tangled, shadowed oak grove older than the Malfoy themselves, older than those who had held the land before Brandon Andenais came with fire and sword and sorcery and treacherously wiped them all out, thus earning for himself and his descendants the name Faithless.
Draco smiled bitterly. Brandon had set a fine precedent for his descendants: there was only one Law that the Malfoy held sacred - the land, and the people were to be protected above all things. And the Clan Lord must do anything and everything he could to ensure it remained that way. And so Draco had killed his father, because his Dark Mark had corrupted the delicate balance between Lord and land and people, to the point where everything that had endured for two and a half thousand years had begun to fail. Because Draco himself had been unMarked, he had renewed the balance when he became Lord.
Simple logic. Intellectually, it had been necessary; emotionally, it had seriously fucked him up. But he was here now, and he was ready to face it. Here, in the Grove, in the Heart of the estate, the funeral pyres of every Malfoy Clan Lord were held, from Brandon himself, two and a half millennia ago, to Lucius, twelve years ago. Here he had stood, and watched, as the flames consumed his father's body, had licked at the pale skin, at the familiar, beloved sardonic face, at the long, white hair that had been his only real vanity...
...("Kill him now Draco! Now!" Draco moved through a surreal dream, through air as thick and clinging as honey, his heart beating frantically, his mind screaming at his body to stop, stop...he looked into his father's beloved eyes, mirrors of his own, and...hesitated.
"Do it! You must!" echoed on the night, hollow in his ears. His right hand lifted of its own volition, raising the knife, light glinting on his father's face and in his eyes...Lucius lifted his head, exposing the vulnerable white line of his throat and his chest, crossed with trails of blood from the torture he had only just undergone.
He heard Voldemort's voice, hissing, shouting "Avada Kedavra!" and with a soft, inaudible whisper (forgive me, father...) he plunged the knife home. Lucius' luminous grey eyes glowed, dimmed, and glazed over. His blood, the Lord's blood, seeped crimson and black into the earth, renewing the Covenant and restoring the balance, and Draco became the new lord...)...
He came out of the flashback gasping, breath heaving and sobbing in his throat. No. No. No...Oh, Lady, no... He ran his hands through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut, pulling until it came to the point where pain and pleasure were indistinguishable. He pulled the fragments of his mask, his composure, back together and stood up straight, forcing his breathing to slow, his heartbeat to return to normal.
And then he walked away, and didn't look back.
**********************************
There were twelve seated at the table - her mother and father, her eldest brother Bill and his wife Fleur, Charlie and Percy and the twins Fred and George, Ron and Hermione, who had gotten married straight out of school and were sickeningly in love, and then Ginny and Gerald. Before they went in, Hermione looked at Gerald, and then gave her a speaking look. Hermione didn't like Gerald, didn't think they were suited at all - before she'd seen him through Malfoy's eyes, Ginny might have argued, or refused to listen, but now she was willing to acknowledge her sister-in-law's insight. She nodded back to Hermione, agreeing to an earnest discussion after dinner.
As usual in the Weasley household, dinner was rowdy and light hearted, with everyone talking at and over each other, and random explosions and bangs that could be traced directly back to Fred and George. As far back as she could remember, every single family dinner had included bangs and explosions - it wouldn't be the same without them. They'd gotten through the main meal and were sampling dessert, when the conversation turned around, inevitably, to business - her father's job as Deputy Minister of Magic meant that he was far more engrossed in his work now than he had been when they'd been growing up. Gerald, a high-up official at Gringott's, was also dedicated, and they'd developed a respect for each other's business and political acumen and their beliefs and ideals.
Gerald was speaking. "The entire department's been in a tizzy for days," he said, shaking his head. "They're all excited about one of their main accounts - apparently he's come back and wants to take control of his money..." he smiled, amused at the very thought. "Some French name, one of those old families who think they're better than us all..." he frowned, trying to remember the name. "It started with 'm' - Montfort, no, Mandeville...Malfort?"
Ron became very still. "Malfoy?" he asked with dangerous softness. Her brother had become an Auror during and after the war, had become a dangerous man, but he had never learned to like Malfoy.
Gerald beamed. "Malfoy, that's it!" He smiled gratefully at Ron, who watched him with barely concealed contempt. Ron shared Hermione's dislike of him; the two men simply seemed to rub each other the wrong way. Her other brothers blinked, frowned, but said nothing - it was none of their business that Malfoy had come back. But Ginny had a sinking feeling she knew what was coming next.
"Come to think of it," Gerald said absently, "I ran into a chap called Malfoy the other day." Ginny tried frantically to signal him with her eyes, telling him to stop, but he was oblivious. "An old school friend of Ginny's, he was."
She closed her eyes, then could all but feel Ron's glare and her other brothers' puzzled and quizzical glances.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Ah...what did you say his name was?" Good old Hermione, always the diplomat.
"Oh, I don't know, some outlandish name, I think...Draco, I think it was. Yes, that was it, dressed in muggle clothes with shaggy hair, a damned pale fellow with grey eyes." He looked at her father smugly, conspiringly. "He had a weak handshake, I know that much."
Bill looked at Fleur, and then back to Gerald. He opened his mouth, but then shut it again. He knew - they all knew - that the High Clan did not shake hands. They considered it a purely middle class custom, and contented themselves with bowing.
"Do you know him then?" Gerald asked with blissful innocence. "He and Ginny seemed to be getting along well."
There was a moment of dead silence, and then her father said faintly, "Yes, the younger children all went to school with him..."
"Oh, that's good then, that could come in useful later on."
No one said anything. No one was game enough. Ginny only closed her eyes and prayed for the ground to open up and swallow her. It didn't work. Fleur changed the subject, and the conversation moved away from dangerous waters. But she knew that she'd be facing an interrogation soon enough...
~()~
It came after dinner, after she had finished letting a bewildered Gerald down lightly. As she had predicted, they joined forces against her - Hermione and Ron, Percy and her mother – with Bill and Charlie leaving the confrontation to the others and hovering in the background offering moral support but saying nothing. Fred, George and her father very wisely stayed out of it, they retreated to the other end of the drawing room and tried to avoid looking at Ginny or any the others. She had always liked the twins best, after Bill and her father.
Typically, Ron took the lead. "What d’you think you’re doing, Ginny, being friendly to Malfoy?"
She couldn't help it, the reaction was instinctive. She scowled defensively. "I was not being friendly to Malfoy. He came into my shop and I was about to order him out when Gerald came in and jumped to the wrong conclusion."
"Gerald couldn't see straight if his life depended on it.” Ron’s retort was scathing and typically hotblooded. “You and Malfoy could have been doing anything and Gerald would have thought it perfectly respectable."
Ginny and her mother gasped in outrage, but for different reasons. "Ronald Weasley,” Molly began awfully, “you will not talk about your sister's fiancée like that. He is a perfectly nice man, and far more respectable than you will ever hope to be."
"Mother!” Ginny protested. “He and I are not engaged! We are not going to be engaged!"
"Nonsense, Ginny, you've been stepping out with him for four months now,” her mother said with unshakable complacency. “Of course you're engaged. I raised you properly, and proper young girls do not lead gentlemen on."
Ginny's mouth fell open. She rose slowly to her feet, bristling. Ron, Percy and Hermione exchanged glances with Bill and Charlie, looked towards Ginny and her mother, both on their feet and in each other's faces, and slowly, cautiously retreated towards the corner where Arthur and the twins were hiding. "Let me tell you this much, Mother," Ginny said dangerously softly. "I am not engaged to Gerald. We are not going to be married, not now, not ever. And four months without an announcement does not mean that I am leading a man on."
But her mother had always scorned the caution of angels. "I don't know that Gerald would want you, Ginny, if he knew the truth about Malfoy...what were you doing together, anyway? Shame on you!"
Ginny went still. Her voice lowered until it was almost inaudible, but it all but vibrated with intensity. "I did not do anything with Malfoy. But even if I did, it would be none of your business, Mother. None at all, do you hear me? If I were fooling around with Malfoy, you would have no right at all to interfere. Because it is my life, and I alone bear the ultimate responsibility for my acts."
Molly Weasley finally stepped back.
"And as for Gerald," Ginny continued, "He is a pompous, ignorant bore and I am finished with him. By my blood and the blood of my ancestors, I would rather marry Malfoy than Gerald!"
Suddenly the room became very quiet. "Is that clear?" Ginny finished menacingly. Molly nodded, scowling, finally admitting defeat.
"Well, then," said Ginny, but then suddenly became aware of the almost unnatural silence, and the stunned looks on her family’s faces. With a creeping sense of horrified dismay, she recalled what she had just said, went crimson all over, and then paled dizzily. Had she really sworn, on her ancestors' blood, that she would rather marry Malfoy?
The Gods had a nasty habit of holding people to oaths like that.
**************************************
Somewhere, far away in Wales, Draco Malfoy lifted his head to hear the voice on the wind. A feminine voice, smooth and low, but at the moment quite dangerous in its icy softness.
By my blood, and the blood of my ancestors…
He didn't know why the Wind was bringing this to him, but he did know a significant omen when he encountered one. And at this time of his life, when he had just come back and the future could go so many ways, he knew better than to ignore it.
So pretty Ginny Weasley had entertained, even for the slightest second, the thought of marriage to him? And then she had sworn a Blood Vow on it. Dear, dear me. This could be very interesting...
*************************************
CHAPTER 3 - Matchmaking
A few days later, Molly Weasley, in a matchmaking mood, invited her only daughter and her beau to a family dinner at the Burrow. Ginny and Gerald had been a couple for nearly four months now, and her mother had wedding bells ringing in her ears. Ginny suspected that her mother quite liked the idea of Gerald as a son-in-law - certainly he was far more respectable than her own children. But Ginny wasn't sure that she actually wanted to marry Gerald - especially not when her mother seemed to dote on him so much. In fact, that was a very persuasive argument all of its own: Ginny and her mother rarely ever saw eye to eye anymore, not after she had decided that she no longer loved Harry Potter and didn't want to marry him anymore.
Oh, Lady, the trouble that had caused...!
Nevertheless, Ginny had proved that she was just as stubborn as her mother, and had finally won the battle for her own independence. She'd moved out of the house, got a flat in Diagon Alley, and had eventually earned the money to start up her own business, her second hand book shop. And her family still thought of her as the youngest, as helpless, as too young to be out on her own. Hence the fascination with Gerald - he was steady, reliable, and financially secure - marry him and Ginny needn't worry about anything anymore, Gerald would do all that for her.
No, no, no, no, no!
Especially not after seeing him through Malfoy's eyes. Malfoy's cool, cynical, aristocratic eyes that had so clearly seen and mocked everything she had been trying to ignore in Gerald. He was a bore. A pompous bore who thought of her business as a whim, as something she would give up once she had a house and babies of her own. And not only was he pompous, insensitive and far more interested in money than in her, he was a fool. He hadn't even bothered to look past Malfoy's dishevelled appearance - he'd taken one look and dismissed him. Ginny and her brothers might have hated Malfoy, despised him, fought, cursed and hexed him, but they had never ever underestimated him.
And on top of all that, her mother approved of him and was trying to pressure her into marrying him. That had been the last straw. After dinner tonight, they would have to talk. Her plans for the new improved Ginny did not include him. Then who do they include? asked a small, insidious voice. She dismissed it immediately. There would be time enough for man hunting later. First she would have to get through dinner. Then, after getting rid of Gerald, she would think about it.
*********************************
The Malfoy estate was deep in the heart of Wales, cradled by steep mountains and deep green valleys, a land of dark, ancient forests and shadowy groves that hid secrets far older than Christ. And the oldest secret of all was found in the heart of the estate, in the Grove - a tangled, shadowed oak grove older than the Malfoy themselves, older than those who had held the land before Brandon Andenais came with fire and sword and sorcery and treacherously wiped them all out, thus earning for himself and his descendants the name Faithless.
Draco smiled bitterly. Brandon had set a fine precedent for his descendants: there was only one Law that the Malfoy held sacred - the land, and the people were to be protected above all things. And the Clan Lord must do anything and everything he could to ensure it remained that way. And so Draco had killed his father, because his Dark Mark had corrupted the delicate balance between Lord and land and people, to the point where everything that had endured for two and a half thousand years had begun to fail. Because Draco himself had been unMarked, he had renewed the balance when he became Lord.
Simple logic. Intellectually, it had been necessary; emotionally, it had seriously fucked him up. But he was here now, and he was ready to face it. Here, in the Grove, in the Heart of the estate, the funeral pyres of every Malfoy Clan Lord were held, from Brandon himself, two and a half millennia ago, to Lucius, twelve years ago. Here he had stood, and watched, as the flames consumed his father's body, had licked at the pale skin, at the familiar, beloved sardonic face, at the long, white hair that had been his only real vanity...
...("Kill him now Draco! Now!" Draco moved through a surreal dream, through air as thick and clinging as honey, his heart beating frantically, his mind screaming at his body to stop, stop...he looked into his father's beloved eyes, mirrors of his own, and...hesitated.
"Do it! You must!" echoed on the night, hollow in his ears. His right hand lifted of its own volition, raising the knife, light glinting on his father's face and in his eyes...Lucius lifted his head, exposing the vulnerable white line of his throat and his chest, crossed with trails of blood from the torture he had only just undergone.
He heard Voldemort's voice, hissing, shouting "Avada Kedavra!" and with a soft, inaudible whisper (forgive me, father...) he plunged the knife home. Lucius' luminous grey eyes glowed, dimmed, and glazed over. His blood, the Lord's blood, seeped crimson and black into the earth, renewing the Covenant and restoring the balance, and Draco became the new lord...)...
He came out of the flashback gasping, breath heaving and sobbing in his throat. No. No. No...Oh, Lady, no... He ran his hands through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut, pulling until it came to the point where pain and pleasure were indistinguishable. He pulled the fragments of his mask, his composure, back together and stood up straight, forcing his breathing to slow, his heartbeat to return to normal.
And then he walked away, and didn't look back.
**********************************
There were twelve seated at the table - her mother and father, her eldest brother Bill and his wife Fleur, Charlie and Percy and the twins Fred and George, Ron and Hermione, who had gotten married straight out of school and were sickeningly in love, and then Ginny and Gerald. Before they went in, Hermione looked at Gerald, and then gave her a speaking look. Hermione didn't like Gerald, didn't think they were suited at all - before she'd seen him through Malfoy's eyes, Ginny might have argued, or refused to listen, but now she was willing to acknowledge her sister-in-law's insight. She nodded back to Hermione, agreeing to an earnest discussion after dinner.
As usual in the Weasley household, dinner was rowdy and light hearted, with everyone talking at and over each other, and random explosions and bangs that could be traced directly back to Fred and George. As far back as she could remember, every single family dinner had included bangs and explosions - it wouldn't be the same without them. They'd gotten through the main meal and were sampling dessert, when the conversation turned around, inevitably, to business - her father's job as Deputy Minister of Magic meant that he was far more engrossed in his work now than he had been when they'd been growing up. Gerald, a high-up official at Gringott's, was also dedicated, and they'd developed a respect for each other's business and political acumen and their beliefs and ideals.
Gerald was speaking. "The entire department's been in a tizzy for days," he said, shaking his head. "They're all excited about one of their main accounts - apparently he's come back and wants to take control of his money..." he smiled, amused at the very thought. "Some French name, one of those old families who think they're better than us all..." he frowned, trying to remember the name. "It started with 'm' - Montfort, no, Mandeville...Malfort?"
Ron became very still. "Malfoy?" he asked with dangerous softness. Her brother had become an Auror during and after the war, had become a dangerous man, but he had never learned to like Malfoy.
Gerald beamed. "Malfoy, that's it!" He smiled gratefully at Ron, who watched him with barely concealed contempt. Ron shared Hermione's dislike of him; the two men simply seemed to rub each other the wrong way. Her other brothers blinked, frowned, but said nothing - it was none of their business that Malfoy had come back. But Ginny had a sinking feeling she knew what was coming next.
"Come to think of it," Gerald said absently, "I ran into a chap called Malfoy the other day." Ginny tried frantically to signal him with her eyes, telling him to stop, but he was oblivious. "An old school friend of Ginny's, he was."
She closed her eyes, then could all but feel Ron's glare and her other brothers' puzzled and quizzical glances.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Ah...what did you say his name was?" Good old Hermione, always the diplomat.
"Oh, I don't know, some outlandish name, I think...Draco, I think it was. Yes, that was it, dressed in muggle clothes with shaggy hair, a damned pale fellow with grey eyes." He looked at her father smugly, conspiringly. "He had a weak handshake, I know that much."
Bill looked at Fleur, and then back to Gerald. He opened his mouth, but then shut it again. He knew - they all knew - that the High Clan did not shake hands. They considered it a purely middle class custom, and contented themselves with bowing.
"Do you know him then?" Gerald asked with blissful innocence. "He and Ginny seemed to be getting along well."
There was a moment of dead silence, and then her father said faintly, "Yes, the younger children all went to school with him..."
"Oh, that's good then, that could come in useful later on."
No one said anything. No one was game enough. Ginny only closed her eyes and prayed for the ground to open up and swallow her. It didn't work. Fleur changed the subject, and the conversation moved away from dangerous waters. But she knew that she'd be facing an interrogation soon enough...
~()~
It came after dinner, after she had finished letting a bewildered Gerald down lightly. As she had predicted, they joined forces against her - Hermione and Ron, Percy and her mother – with Bill and Charlie leaving the confrontation to the others and hovering in the background offering moral support but saying nothing. Fred, George and her father very wisely stayed out of it, they retreated to the other end of the drawing room and tried to avoid looking at Ginny or any the others. She had always liked the twins best, after Bill and her father.
Typically, Ron took the lead. "What d’you think you’re doing, Ginny, being friendly to Malfoy?"
She couldn't help it, the reaction was instinctive. She scowled defensively. "I was not being friendly to Malfoy. He came into my shop and I was about to order him out when Gerald came in and jumped to the wrong conclusion."
"Gerald couldn't see straight if his life depended on it.” Ron’s retort was scathing and typically hotblooded. “You and Malfoy could have been doing anything and Gerald would have thought it perfectly respectable."
Ginny and her mother gasped in outrage, but for different reasons. "Ronald Weasley,” Molly began awfully, “you will not talk about your sister's fiancée like that. He is a perfectly nice man, and far more respectable than you will ever hope to be."
"Mother!” Ginny protested. “He and I are not engaged! We are not going to be engaged!"
"Nonsense, Ginny, you've been stepping out with him for four months now,” her mother said with unshakable complacency. “Of course you're engaged. I raised you properly, and proper young girls do not lead gentlemen on."
Ginny's mouth fell open. She rose slowly to her feet, bristling. Ron, Percy and Hermione exchanged glances with Bill and Charlie, looked towards Ginny and her mother, both on their feet and in each other's faces, and slowly, cautiously retreated towards the corner where Arthur and the twins were hiding. "Let me tell you this much, Mother," Ginny said dangerously softly. "I am not engaged to Gerald. We are not going to be married, not now, not ever. And four months without an announcement does not mean that I am leading a man on."
But her mother had always scorned the caution of angels. "I don't know that Gerald would want you, Ginny, if he knew the truth about Malfoy...what were you doing together, anyway? Shame on you!"
Ginny went still. Her voice lowered until it was almost inaudible, but it all but vibrated with intensity. "I did not do anything with Malfoy. But even if I did, it would be none of your business, Mother. None at all, do you hear me? If I were fooling around with Malfoy, you would have no right at all to interfere. Because it is my life, and I alone bear the ultimate responsibility for my acts."
Molly Weasley finally stepped back.
"And as for Gerald," Ginny continued, "He is a pompous, ignorant bore and I am finished with him. By my blood and the blood of my ancestors, I would rather marry Malfoy than Gerald!"
Suddenly the room became very quiet. "Is that clear?" Ginny finished menacingly. Molly nodded, scowling, finally admitting defeat.
"Well, then," said Ginny, but then suddenly became aware of the almost unnatural silence, and the stunned looks on her family’s faces. With a creeping sense of horrified dismay, she recalled what she had just said, went crimson all over, and then paled dizzily. Had she really sworn, on her ancestors' blood, that she would rather marry Malfoy?
The Gods had a nasty habit of holding people to oaths like that.
**************************************
Somewhere, far away in Wales, Draco Malfoy lifted his head to hear the voice on the wind. A feminine voice, smooth and low, but at the moment quite dangerous in its icy softness.
By my blood, and the blood of my ancestors…
He didn't know why the Wind was bringing this to him, but he did know a significant omen when he encountered one. And at this time of his life, when he had just come back and the future could go so many ways, he knew better than to ignore it.
So pretty Ginny Weasley had entertained, even for the slightest second, the thought of marriage to him? And then she had sworn a Blood Vow on it. Dear, dear me. This could be very interesting...
*************************************
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