Chapter Four:
She had just managed to get her breathing and heart rate down to a reasonable level when the door to the back of the office swung open, revealing Poppy Pomfrey with a soft but professional look on her face.
"The Headmaster is contacting your parents as we speak, Miss Weasley, and they will most likely be here within the next twenty minutes or so."
The news, expected as it was, still slammed into the petite redhead with the force of a speeding Bludger. Ginny could see her mother's fear and worry at seeing Dumbledore's face in the fireplace turn swiftly to outrage at his news, could see her rushing to get herself and her husband ready, Apparating directly to Hogsmeade, and storming to the castle. Twenty minutes might be generous, she thought with mounting fear. How was she going to face them; how was she going to tell them that not only was she going to have a baby, but that the father was none other than Draco Malfoy? Sure, they'd know the former, but she'd have to actually inform them of the latter herself, in person.
She reached blindly for the hand next to hers, brown eyes catching grey as she squeezed his hand in desperation. Surprise and discomfort flashed between them for an instant before he squeezed back and they settled in to wait. The ten minutes they allowed themselves passed with agonizing slowness, but when it came to an end, and he rose, it felt entirely too soon. Yet they daren't risk his staying longer, her parents would be there anytime, and his presence would only make things worse, so he left silently, almost hesitantly, and hurried through empty corridors, down to his rooms.
Draco quickly spelled his shoes to silence before creeping to his trunk and removing the two-way mirror hidden there, then slipped back into the dungeon halls. The mirrors had been an extravagance his mother had insisted on when he'd gone off to school to ensure contact should he need to get in touch with her. In that moment he was grateful for it, as he could not establish the temporary Floo-link outside the school that the Headmaster had used to speak with the Weasleys, and an owl would take far too long.
Still, a part of him wished for the delay an owl would afford as he activated the mirror and waited for his mother to respond. When she appeared in the glass, he could tell the activation alarm had woken her, and hated the look of controlled panic on her face.
"Draco, what's wrong, dear?"
It would have been pointless, of course, for her to ask if there was a problem — he would not have contacted her so late, and so directly, if nothing was the matter. He was equally direct, yet as delicate as he could be in his response. Blurting out the reason for his call would have been bad manners, and would only have upset her more.
"I am fine, but a situation has arisen that you should know of."
A trace of panic drained from her pretty features. "What kind of situation?"
"I have been foolish, Mother."
Icy blue eyes regarded him seriously for several moments. Her son would not lightly admit to such a grievous error, which meant the situation was a bad one. A serious one. "And what consequences have your foolishness led to?"
"We have slightly less than seven months to arrange a wedding and birthing announcement."
Narcissa Malfoy's aristocratic features froze, her eyes frosting with anger. "Might I inquire as to the young lady's name to include in the wedding announcement?"
Too formal, too polite. The question left him stilling his own expression and forcing the words out evenly, calmly, to hide mounting emotions. "Ginevra Weasley."
He expected anger, annoyance, disdain, but she showed none of those emotions as she stared at him through the spelled glass. Instead she looked at him thoughtfully, as if considering, weighing, what she saw. Whatever decision she reached, whatever assessment she made, she kept it from her voice as she responded blandly several minutes later. "I should like to meet this young witch. Inform the Headmaster I will be along shortly."
His mirror shimmered and darkened before he had a chance to respond, leaving him staring at nothing as he tried to absorb what had just happened. For all her social refinement, her cool public exterior, his mother was a passionate woman who had never before curbed her tongue when informing her son what she thought of his actions, yet now, when he had made what was, by far, his biggest mistake, she had barely said a word, barely even expressed displeasure in him. What did that mean for him, for Ginny?
Shaking off that last thought, he quickly and quietly replaced the mirror and made his way towards the hospital wing where he was sure Dumbledore would be by now. He and Ginny had silently agreed that he would not be there while her parents were, and he worried as to the consequences of his appearance. He worried as to the consequences of disobeying his mother more, however, and so continued on his way. As it turned out, he needn't have been concerned as he met someone almost as good as the Headmaster in the hall outside Madam Pomfrey's domain.
"Professor," he said, upon approaching the Deputy Headmistress.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Her tone was crisp, even more so than normal, and he ascertained she had been told about the situation involving one of her fifth-years. Well, he thought, that just made it easier for him to deliver his message, saving him from explaining the reason for the sudden visit.
"My mother wished me to inform the Headmaster that she would be here shortly."
The witch's eyes narrowed somewhat menacingly at him, making him wonder if she were mentally flexing her unsheathed claws. "I will deliver the message momentarily, Mr. Malfoy."
As she turned to enter the hospital wing, he called out, the words leaving his mouth before he had a chance to think them through.
"How is she?"
A voice he recognized from the howler Ron had received his second year thundered out into the hallway at that moment, causing the Malfoy heir to cringe, unable to bank his emotions as a smaller, broken voice responded.
"Ginevra Molly Weasley! How could you do this? To us, to poor Harry? I'm ashamed, young lady, positively ashamed."
"I'm sorry, Mum, I'm so sorry."
"You certainly are..."
Draco shuttered his expression and clenched his fists at his side. "I'll collect my mother in Hogsmeade, if that's all right, Professor."
McGonagall nodded stiffly as another shout reached them through the double doors. "Very well, Mr. Malfoy. When you and your mother are finished, however, the Headmaster would like a private word with you."
"Yes, Professor," he conceded before heading to the main doors and out onto the school grounds. Simmering emotion he refused to admit had been ignited by the words he'd heard Mrs. Weasley shout, and the desperate guilt and pain he'd heard in Ginny's cries, fuelled his furious pace until he reached the gates and realized he would need to go no further to reach his goal.
"I assume we are going to the hospital wing?"
"Yes, Mother, this way," he stated as calmly as he could manage as he raised his arm for her to place her gloved hand on, before he led her back to the school at a much more dignified pace than he had left it. She knew the way, of course, but it was proper manners for him to escort her anyway, and following behavioral codes older than Hogwarts itself was the perfect way to settle his temper.
The tactic proved partially successful, as he had managed to smooth his voice and features by the time they reached the hospital, but his hard work was almost undone as words of pain and frustration and shouts of anger echoed out into the hall.
"I'll not have that- that Slytherin," Arthur Weasley spat the word out in disgust, "have any part of my grandchild's life."
"He'll not deny paternity, Dad, there's nothing-"
"Then you'll deny it. A witch has just as much right to declare parentage as a wizard, even if she isn't as rich-"
"I'll do no such thing, even if I did stand a chance of winning, he is my baby's father and I'll not keep him from his child."
"You'll do as you are told, young lady. You obviously haven't the sense to make the decision yourself, so your father and I will make it for you, and we say he'll not raise that child!"
Unable to listen any longer, the Weasleys' declarations firing anger within him, and Ginny's lighting something else he hadn't the time to analyze, Draco pushed open the double doors and strode through, cutting them all off with a scathing hiss.
"He will do exactly that, and I will thank you, Madam, to cease attacking my fiancé."
Wide, tear-filled brown eyes swung to meet grey ones as he stalked quickly to her side and gently, but insistently, helped her into a nearby chair. His actions turned her father's face a molten red.
"Get away from her!"
The heir to one of the oldest, most prestigious wizarding lines in existence turned slowly to meet the two outraged gazes. "As she will soon be both my wife and the mother of my child, I will do no such thing. Nor will I allow you to upset her any further. She is in a delicate condition, and regardless of the foolishness on our parts that put her in such a state, she cannot afford the stress you are causing her, so if you will not calm yourselves, I must insist you leave. Now."
There was fury on their faces, but before it could be expressed, Madam Pomfrey stormed in, having finally finished ordering the potions she would need for her newest patient. "What in Merlin's name is going on here? I'll not have this in my hospital. Out. Everyone out."
"Ah, Madam, our apologies," Dumbledore intoned soothingly as he entered directly behind her, "perhaps we could discuss the circumstances at another juncture," he stated with a glance at Molly and Arthur, steel beneath his calm words.
Molly Weasley raised her chin, squared her shoulders, and looked down at her only daughter with uncomprehending anger and embarrassment. "I don't believe that will be necessary. Come Arthur, we have a room to clean out at home."
The tall, red-headed man nodded in concession to his wife, turning to the Headmaster as they swept from the room. "We'll send you the boxes when they're packed."
And with that, they left, the doors swinging shut behind them, leaving Draco standing tensely behind a now quietly sobbing redhead. Narcissa shot her son a meaningful look as he continued to stand there, blue eyes flicking from him to the young witch and back again.
The young blond took his mother's forceful hint and placed a hand on Ginny's shoulder, steel softening to ash when she looked up at the contact. Her face was red, splotchy, swollen, and utterly devastated, but he couldn't find the annoyance to step back when she turned into him, burying her face in his stomach as she cried. Despite the awkwardness filling him, and the sudden tension in his spine, he laid an arm around her back as she shook against him, and let her cry.
End Chapter Four
She had just managed to get her breathing and heart rate down to a reasonable level when the door to the back of the office swung open, revealing Poppy Pomfrey with a soft but professional look on her face.
"The Headmaster is contacting your parents as we speak, Miss Weasley, and they will most likely be here within the next twenty minutes or so."
The news, expected as it was, still slammed into the petite redhead with the force of a speeding Bludger. Ginny could see her mother's fear and worry at seeing Dumbledore's face in the fireplace turn swiftly to outrage at his news, could see her rushing to get herself and her husband ready, Apparating directly to Hogsmeade, and storming to the castle. Twenty minutes might be generous, she thought with mounting fear. How was she going to face them; how was she going to tell them that not only was she going to have a baby, but that the father was none other than Draco Malfoy? Sure, they'd know the former, but she'd have to actually inform them of the latter herself, in person.
She reached blindly for the hand next to hers, brown eyes catching grey as she squeezed his hand in desperation. Surprise and discomfort flashed between them for an instant before he squeezed back and they settled in to wait. The ten minutes they allowed themselves passed with agonizing slowness, but when it came to an end, and he rose, it felt entirely too soon. Yet they daren't risk his staying longer, her parents would be there anytime, and his presence would only make things worse, so he left silently, almost hesitantly, and hurried through empty corridors, down to his rooms.
Draco quickly spelled his shoes to silence before creeping to his trunk and removing the two-way mirror hidden there, then slipped back into the dungeon halls. The mirrors had been an extravagance his mother had insisted on when he'd gone off to school to ensure contact should he need to get in touch with her. In that moment he was grateful for it, as he could not establish the temporary Floo-link outside the school that the Headmaster had used to speak with the Weasleys, and an owl would take far too long.
Still, a part of him wished for the delay an owl would afford as he activated the mirror and waited for his mother to respond. When she appeared in the glass, he could tell the activation alarm had woken her, and hated the look of controlled panic on her face.
"Draco, what's wrong, dear?"
It would have been pointless, of course, for her to ask if there was a problem — he would not have contacted her so late, and so directly, if nothing was the matter. He was equally direct, yet as delicate as he could be in his response. Blurting out the reason for his call would have been bad manners, and would only have upset her more.
"I am fine, but a situation has arisen that you should know of."
A trace of panic drained from her pretty features. "What kind of situation?"
"I have been foolish, Mother."
Icy blue eyes regarded him seriously for several moments. Her son would not lightly admit to such a grievous error, which meant the situation was a bad one. A serious one. "And what consequences have your foolishness led to?"
"We have slightly less than seven months to arrange a wedding and birthing announcement."
Narcissa Malfoy's aristocratic features froze, her eyes frosting with anger. "Might I inquire as to the young lady's name to include in the wedding announcement?"
Too formal, too polite. The question left him stilling his own expression and forcing the words out evenly, calmly, to hide mounting emotions. "Ginevra Weasley."
He expected anger, annoyance, disdain, but she showed none of those emotions as she stared at him through the spelled glass. Instead she looked at him thoughtfully, as if considering, weighing, what she saw. Whatever decision she reached, whatever assessment she made, she kept it from her voice as she responded blandly several minutes later. "I should like to meet this young witch. Inform the Headmaster I will be along shortly."
His mirror shimmered and darkened before he had a chance to respond, leaving him staring at nothing as he tried to absorb what had just happened. For all her social refinement, her cool public exterior, his mother was a passionate woman who had never before curbed her tongue when informing her son what she thought of his actions, yet now, when he had made what was, by far, his biggest mistake, she had barely said a word, barely even expressed displeasure in him. What did that mean for him, for Ginny?
Shaking off that last thought, he quickly and quietly replaced the mirror and made his way towards the hospital wing where he was sure Dumbledore would be by now. He and Ginny had silently agreed that he would not be there while her parents were, and he worried as to the consequences of his appearance. He worried as to the consequences of disobeying his mother more, however, and so continued on his way. As it turned out, he needn't have been concerned as he met someone almost as good as the Headmaster in the hall outside Madam Pomfrey's domain.
"Professor," he said, upon approaching the Deputy Headmistress.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Her tone was crisp, even more so than normal, and he ascertained she had been told about the situation involving one of her fifth-years. Well, he thought, that just made it easier for him to deliver his message, saving him from explaining the reason for the sudden visit.
"My mother wished me to inform the Headmaster that she would be here shortly."
The witch's eyes narrowed somewhat menacingly at him, making him wonder if she were mentally flexing her unsheathed claws. "I will deliver the message momentarily, Mr. Malfoy."
As she turned to enter the hospital wing, he called out, the words leaving his mouth before he had a chance to think them through.
"How is she?"
A voice he recognized from the howler Ron had received his second year thundered out into the hallway at that moment, causing the Malfoy heir to cringe, unable to bank his emotions as a smaller, broken voice responded.
"Ginevra Molly Weasley! How could you do this? To us, to poor Harry? I'm ashamed, young lady, positively ashamed."
"I'm sorry, Mum, I'm so sorry."
"You certainly are..."
Draco shuttered his expression and clenched his fists at his side. "I'll collect my mother in Hogsmeade, if that's all right, Professor."
McGonagall nodded stiffly as another shout reached them through the double doors. "Very well, Mr. Malfoy. When you and your mother are finished, however, the Headmaster would like a private word with you."
"Yes, Professor," he conceded before heading to the main doors and out onto the school grounds. Simmering emotion he refused to admit had been ignited by the words he'd heard Mrs. Weasley shout, and the desperate guilt and pain he'd heard in Ginny's cries, fuelled his furious pace until he reached the gates and realized he would need to go no further to reach his goal.
"I assume we are going to the hospital wing?"
"Yes, Mother, this way," he stated as calmly as he could manage as he raised his arm for her to place her gloved hand on, before he led her back to the school at a much more dignified pace than he had left it. She knew the way, of course, but it was proper manners for him to escort her anyway, and following behavioral codes older than Hogwarts itself was the perfect way to settle his temper.
The tactic proved partially successful, as he had managed to smooth his voice and features by the time they reached the hospital, but his hard work was almost undone as words of pain and frustration and shouts of anger echoed out into the hall.
"I'll not have that- that Slytherin," Arthur Weasley spat the word out in disgust, "have any part of my grandchild's life."
"He'll not deny paternity, Dad, there's nothing-"
"Then you'll deny it. A witch has just as much right to declare parentage as a wizard, even if she isn't as rich-"
"I'll do no such thing, even if I did stand a chance of winning, he is my baby's father and I'll not keep him from his child."
"You'll do as you are told, young lady. You obviously haven't the sense to make the decision yourself, so your father and I will make it for you, and we say he'll not raise that child!"
Unable to listen any longer, the Weasleys' declarations firing anger within him, and Ginny's lighting something else he hadn't the time to analyze, Draco pushed open the double doors and strode through, cutting them all off with a scathing hiss.
"He will do exactly that, and I will thank you, Madam, to cease attacking my fiancé."
Wide, tear-filled brown eyes swung to meet grey ones as he stalked quickly to her side and gently, but insistently, helped her into a nearby chair. His actions turned her father's face a molten red.
"Get away from her!"
The heir to one of the oldest, most prestigious wizarding lines in existence turned slowly to meet the two outraged gazes. "As she will soon be both my wife and the mother of my child, I will do no such thing. Nor will I allow you to upset her any further. She is in a delicate condition, and regardless of the foolishness on our parts that put her in such a state, she cannot afford the stress you are causing her, so if you will not calm yourselves, I must insist you leave. Now."
There was fury on their faces, but before it could be expressed, Madam Pomfrey stormed in, having finally finished ordering the potions she would need for her newest patient. "What in Merlin's name is going on here? I'll not have this in my hospital. Out. Everyone out."
"Ah, Madam, our apologies," Dumbledore intoned soothingly as he entered directly behind her, "perhaps we could discuss the circumstances at another juncture," he stated with a glance at Molly and Arthur, steel beneath his calm words.
Molly Weasley raised her chin, squared her shoulders, and looked down at her only daughter with uncomprehending anger and embarrassment. "I don't believe that will be necessary. Come Arthur, we have a room to clean out at home."
The tall, red-headed man nodded in concession to his wife, turning to the Headmaster as they swept from the room. "We'll send you the boxes when they're packed."
And with that, they left, the doors swinging shut behind them, leaving Draco standing tensely behind a now quietly sobbing redhead. Narcissa shot her son a meaningful look as he continued to stand there, blue eyes flicking from him to the young witch and back again.
The young blond took his mother's forceful hint and placed a hand on Ginny's shoulder, steel softening to ash when she looked up at the contact. Her face was red, splotchy, swollen, and utterly devastated, but he couldn't find the annoyance to step back when she turned into him, burying her face in his stomach as she cried. Despite the awkwardness filling him, and the sudden tension in his spine, he laid an arm around her back as she shook against him, and let her cry.
End Chapter Four
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