Weeks after the death of his father, Draco still had no idea what happened. Lucius' demise was still shrouded in mystery. As sad as he felt at times, he also felt relief. Then guilt for feeling that relief.
It was a bitter, endless cycle.
He was laying in bed with a bottle when Ginny found him. He'd barely moved, it seemed, in such a long time. She snatched the bottle from him, and as he rolled over, he saw her glare.
"I'm going back to sleep," he announced.
"No, you're not." Ginny gripped the blanket. "You've been a hermit for weeks. This has to stop."
Draco reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulled her onto the bed, and pinned her down. He looked strained, his gray eyes hard, his hair falling in stringy wisps around his face.
"I don't know what happened," he said softly. He lowered his body and laid next to her. "I'm sorry." He kissed her gently. "I'm angry and I shouldn't take it out on you."
Ginny allowed him to kiss her. "You should talk to someone, to help you deal with your grief."
"No," he responded. "I'll be okay."
She shook her head. "You won't, Draco. You don't have closure."
He frowned and scratched his head. "How did you ever get closure after so much time spent grieving?"
"Hermione helped," Ginny said. "She wanted me to see a doctor. To deal with my depression." She watched his expression. "No one knew but her. But I understood that it was normal after such a loss."
"I'd like to know how my father died," Draco said, settling against the pillows. "No one was able to tell me. They know and they aren't telling me, that's what it is. I'm not fragile. I can handle it."
"Maybe they don't," said Ginny, staring at the ceiling. "Your father was a terrible man. There are many who wanted him dead."
Draco's eyes narrowed, and although she couldn't see, his hand curled into a fist. Anger surged inside of him at her words. This woman, one he loved more deeply every day, would always have a faint hatred for his father.
"Are you glad?" he asked, his tone edged.
Ginny sat up and looked at him. "Am I glad about what?"
"Are you glad that he's dead? You said it yourself he was a terrible man and that many people wanted him dead."
Ginny bit her lower lip. "I'm not going to lie. I'm relieved. Your mother must be too. She never wanted anything to do with who your father was, I see that."
That had done it. He got up from the bed and turned on her, his eyes blazing. "I can't believe you would say that. He was just a little misguided."
"Do you hear yourself?" Ginny was shouted, sitting cross-legged. "Lucius Malfoy was anything but misguided. He knew exactly what he was doing when he joined the Death Eaters, when he killed thousands of innocent people. How can you defend him?"
"Because he was my fucking father, Ginny." He turned away from her. She was making his decision very easy at this point. "I can't do this anymore. I think you should go back to your parents."
**
Having their only daughter show up at their doorstep with bags and puffy eyes did not sit well with Arthur and Molly Weasley. As her mother ushered her inside, Bill appeared. He took one look at his sister, and swept her up into a hug.
"He'll regret it," her brother said.
Ginny clung tighter to him. "He's really devastated by his dad's death," she said. "He doesn't want me around."
"It's about time that family got what was coming to them."
Everyone stared at Arthur. He had taken off his glasses and was cleaning them. When he put them back on, he looked around. He didn't say anything else, just let his words sink in.
"Dad," Ginny said, "why would you say that?"
Her father sighed. "You know as well as I do that Lucius Malfoy was always marked for death, because of who he was. It was just a matter of time before someone decided to take action."
"Draco's crushed. Lucius was his father and now he's lost him. You wouldn't have said that if the Malfoy's had been a kind family."
"But they aren't," Arthur said. "Ginny, please. Can't you see what's happening? I was afraid of this. Draco's gone and made you see the good in a man who possesses no soul."
Ginny's eyes widened. "I get it now. You still don't like Draco, because you think he'll turn into his father. He's nothing like him, and if he was, I wouldn't be with him." Ginny stared at her father. "He isn't a killer, and he'd never hurt me."
"He already has," Arthur said.
**
After a third scotch down, Draco wasn't feeling any better. He'd proceeded to drink a fourth when a hand slid out from behind him and gripped the glass.
She sat down next to him, drained the alcohol and made a face. She was never very good at drinking anymore. He glanced at her until she said something.
"I'm an asshole and I'm sorry. He's your father and I should respect that fact."
Ginny pouted a lot when she was upset, and she was doing it now. Draco had to try his hardest not to focus on her lips, mostly because even though he was slightly tipsy and still hurt by what she said, he wanted to kiss her.
He smiled. "It's good to know you realized you were wrong. I know who my father was, and I know who I am, but we're different."
Ginny understood. She touched his hand and he intertwined his fingers with her, squeezing.
"Have you thought about talking to someone?"
Draco looked at her. He reached out and cupped her cheek, and as she shut her eyes in response, he leaned in and kissed her softly. He fought the urge to do more, when her fingers slid against his thighs.
"I'll tell you anything you want to know if you just come back home," he whispered against her lips.
It was a bitter, endless cycle.
He was laying in bed with a bottle when Ginny found him. He'd barely moved, it seemed, in such a long time. She snatched the bottle from him, and as he rolled over, he saw her glare.
"I'm going back to sleep," he announced.
"No, you're not." Ginny gripped the blanket. "You've been a hermit for weeks. This has to stop."
Draco reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulled her onto the bed, and pinned her down. He looked strained, his gray eyes hard, his hair falling in stringy wisps around his face.
"I don't know what happened," he said softly. He lowered his body and laid next to her. "I'm sorry." He kissed her gently. "I'm angry and I shouldn't take it out on you."
Ginny allowed him to kiss her. "You should talk to someone, to help you deal with your grief."
"No," he responded. "I'll be okay."
She shook her head. "You won't, Draco. You don't have closure."
He frowned and scratched his head. "How did you ever get closure after so much time spent grieving?"
"Hermione helped," Ginny said. "She wanted me to see a doctor. To deal with my depression." She watched his expression. "No one knew but her. But I understood that it was normal after such a loss."
"I'd like to know how my father died," Draco said, settling against the pillows. "No one was able to tell me. They know and they aren't telling me, that's what it is. I'm not fragile. I can handle it."
"Maybe they don't," said Ginny, staring at the ceiling. "Your father was a terrible man. There are many who wanted him dead."
Draco's eyes narrowed, and although she couldn't see, his hand curled into a fist. Anger surged inside of him at her words. This woman, one he loved more deeply every day, would always have a faint hatred for his father.
"Are you glad?" he asked, his tone edged.
Ginny sat up and looked at him. "Am I glad about what?"
"Are you glad that he's dead? You said it yourself he was a terrible man and that many people wanted him dead."
Ginny bit her lower lip. "I'm not going to lie. I'm relieved. Your mother must be too. She never wanted anything to do with who your father was, I see that."
That had done it. He got up from the bed and turned on her, his eyes blazing. "I can't believe you would say that. He was just a little misguided."
"Do you hear yourself?" Ginny was shouted, sitting cross-legged. "Lucius Malfoy was anything but misguided. He knew exactly what he was doing when he joined the Death Eaters, when he killed thousands of innocent people. How can you defend him?"
"Because he was my fucking father, Ginny." He turned away from her. She was making his decision very easy at this point. "I can't do this anymore. I think you should go back to your parents."
Having their only daughter show up at their doorstep with bags and puffy eyes did not sit well with Arthur and Molly Weasley. As her mother ushered her inside, Bill appeared. He took one look at his sister, and swept her up into a hug.
"He'll regret it," her brother said.
Ginny clung tighter to him. "He's really devastated by his dad's death," she said. "He doesn't want me around."
"It's about time that family got what was coming to them."
Everyone stared at Arthur. He had taken off his glasses and was cleaning them. When he put them back on, he looked around. He didn't say anything else, just let his words sink in.
"Dad," Ginny said, "why would you say that?"
Her father sighed. "You know as well as I do that Lucius Malfoy was always marked for death, because of who he was. It was just a matter of time before someone decided to take action."
"Draco's crushed. Lucius was his father and now he's lost him. You wouldn't have said that if the Malfoy's had been a kind family."
"But they aren't," Arthur said. "Ginny, please. Can't you see what's happening? I was afraid of this. Draco's gone and made you see the good in a man who possesses no soul."
Ginny's eyes widened. "I get it now. You still don't like Draco, because you think he'll turn into his father. He's nothing like him, and if he was, I wouldn't be with him." Ginny stared at her father. "He isn't a killer, and he'd never hurt me."
"He already has," Arthur said.
After a third scotch down, Draco wasn't feeling any better. He'd proceeded to drink a fourth when a hand slid out from behind him and gripped the glass.
She sat down next to him, drained the alcohol and made a face. She was never very good at drinking anymore. He glanced at her until she said something.
"I'm an asshole and I'm sorry. He's your father and I should respect that fact."
Ginny pouted a lot when she was upset, and she was doing it now. Draco had to try his hardest not to focus on her lips, mostly because even though he was slightly tipsy and still hurt by what she said, he wanted to kiss her.
He smiled. "It's good to know you realized you were wrong. I know who my father was, and I know who I am, but we're different."
Ginny understood. She touched his hand and he intertwined his fingers with her, squeezing.
"Have you thought about talking to someone?"
Draco looked at her. He reached out and cupped her cheek, and as she shut her eyes in response, he leaned in and kissed her softly. He fought the urge to do more, when her fingers slid against his thighs.
"I'll tell you anything you want to know if you just come back home," he whispered against her lips.
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