Becoming

Author's Note: Many thanks to both Laurel and Robert for beta-ing this chapter for me. I'm very pleased with how this story is unfolding and all the surprises it's bestowing upon me. I know everyone is anxious to see H & D come to terms with one another, but I can tell you it's a long time off still, so just buckle up and enjoy the ride and in the meantime I'm going to do a smidgen of attempting to redeem Ginny... We'll see how that goes...

Chapter 7 August 14th, 1999

My recent haircut showed off too much of my scar. The fringe was just shy of being long enough to cover it and, no matter how much I slicked or shoved at it, it no longer did the trick. Ginny had insisted on the haircut, though not even she had anticipated the barber would chop so much off. It wasn't bad looking, quite the contrary actually -for the first time in my life my hair seemed to actually behave in the current style, however for me, my hair had always been something to hide behind; not a fashion statement.

As I made a few minor adjustments to my plain black dress robes, I scrutinized my reflection carefully in the mirror. What did others see in place of the disheveled orphan I always felt like? What did they see that was so worthy of being fawned over and sought after? Where in that reflection was something that could be admired or even lionized?

"Well don't you look handsome?" my future wife called from the doorway. When I turned around the sight took my breath away, Ginny was radiant. I had bought her a new gown for the special occasion and she wore the floor-length plum dress perfectly. Sparse beading on the bodice glittered in the light of the room and her matching dark lipstick made her lips look kissable, although I knew better than to try it because that would leave my face covered in purple smears.

"Thanks," I replied with a smile. "You look beautiful, Gin."

"All because of you," she cooed walking over to where I stood to begin fiddling with my tie. "This haircut really suits you, Harry." I couldn't resist rolling my eyes and she caught it right away. "I'm serious," she insisted.

"I know, I just..." I began, but I always had a difficult time relating my fears and weaknesses to Ginny. She thought the world of me and couldn't understand when I tried to explain that I wasn't the superhero she believed me to be.

"It's not what you're used to, but it will grow on you," she replied with a wink. Obviously she thought she had finished my sentence but in reality missed poorly. Sometimes I wondered if she knew me at all, but then she would probably leave me if she did.

"You're probably right," I fibbed. I would never get used to this haircut, but I would only need to keep it up until the wedding; after that Ginny would be less picky about my appearance. Besides, she was right in a roundabout way. The new style would grow on me, in fact it would keep on growing until it was back to the way I wanted it -a reasonable length. "So, do we really have to do this?" I whined, and not for the first time.

Tonight was the Ministry Induction Ball, where various diplomats and ambassadors came from all over the globe to wine and dine and dance the night away. It was a huge deal that England's Ministry got to host it this year and the Minister wanted me on his welcoming committee. Apparently I was Europe's biggest celebrity. Yay me, eh? I had hoped, for all it was worth, that once the dust settled and the war was put behind us, that they would find a new victim to torment, one who maybe enjoyed being in the spotlight, however, I was out of luck it seemed. Someone like Draco would have been the perfect Ministry poster boy; he used to love the attention.

Just thinking the other man's name made my heart clench involuntarily and I had to look away so that Ginny wouldn't see the regretful thoughts rolling through my eyes. The way we had left things last was harsh, and it hurt me that he hated me so much, but I decided it was for the best -hating me was probably the easier thing; now things could get back to normal for both of us. He could find someone who was worthy of him and I could marry Ginny without a guilty conscience.

"We have to go," she chimed, and I remembered that I had been griping about the fact that we were attending this ridiculous party before my mind ventured toward other things. I shoved aside all Malfoy-related lines of thought and focused on my beautiful fiancée.

"We don't have to. I could get suddenly ill," I offered.

"I would give you a pepper-up potion and you'd be right as rain," she countered with a delicate smile.

"I could have a family emergency," I tried again, but she shook her head once more.

"Everyone is fine, most of them will even be there tonight," she replied, foiling my new excuse.

"I really hate these things, Gin," I moaned and she smoothed her palm along my jaw, trying to calm me.

"I know you do, Sweetness, but if you're ever going to make it to Minister one day, you'll need to have powerful allies," she reasoned.

I had nearly forgotten about 'our' ten-year plan. In Ginny's dreams she's Mrs. Minister and happily raising our tiny brood while I rule all of magical England. I didn't have the heart to tell her that the only part of that scenario I agreed with was the children. Though in all fairness, I doubt anyone would actually elect me Minister anyway, I was too much of a 'loose cannon' according to the Daily Prophet, so there was no use arguing about it.

"Right," I muttered.

She just chuckled and shook her head. "It'll be okay, Harry. You'll feel better once you're there, and before you know it, it'll be over."

I gave her the best smile I could muster and nodded, offering my elbow so that I could escort her to the fireplace. She smiled warmly at me and I assured myself once more that I had made the right decision. Ginny loved me, she was warm and caring and she would always be there for me. I was doing the right thing by staying with her.

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My dread at being the night's main event was lifted the instant I saw Hermione and Ron. Hermione looked lovely in a long baby blue gown, her abdomen slightly larger than the last time I had seen her; she was nearly seven months along with her and Ron's first child. "You're glowing, Mione," I told her honestly. One of the things I most looked forward to was seeing Ginny pregnant like that.

"If that's your way of saying I'm as large as the sun, then I'd have to agree," she teased. "I feel ridiculous in this dress."

"Well, you look beautiful," Ginny chimed in, rubbing Hermione's bump.

Ron beamed beside her, proudly showing off his beautiful, expecting wife. "Mum's been driving her a bit crazy. Ever since we announced it, she's been coming 'round the house trying to make Hermione rest and relax."

"I'm hardly far enough along for any of her attention yet," Hermione huffed. "In fact, I could be days away from labor and still not need to accept as much help or mothering as she's been forcing on me already."

"It can't be that bad," Harry joked. He could imagine Molly bustling around Hermione and Ron's house doing all the chores while fluffing up pillows for Hermione to rest against. The image made him a yearn a bit for someone to care about him so much though he knew if the time ever came he wouldn't relish an abundance of attention either.

"She's trying to force me to take leave from work already," Hermione replied sourly. "I can't wait until your wedding gets closer so that you can take all the attention off of me."

"You'll have had the baby by then," Harry laughed.

"So, you think she's going to stop at the pregnancy? Once this is over she'll just have a grandson to fuss over," Hermione pouted. "I'll never get a moment alone ever again will I?" she asked her husband who tried not to laugh as he shook his head.

"You said grandson!" I pointed out excitedly. We had all been waiting for the announcement of the baby's sex but the couple had been keeping it close to their chest.

"You're far too observant, Harry James Potter," she muttered. "I suppose it's spoiled now. It's a boy, and we're naming him Harry."

"Really?" we all asked in unison, Ron included.

"No, not really," she scoffed. "If I can't keep the baby's sex a secret, maybe I'll have better luck with the name."

"Maybe we should go ask what Molly would name him," I teased.

"Don't you dare," Hermione huffed in feigned annoyance. "Let's stop talking about babies, shall we? I get the feeling it's all I'll get to talk about for few years to come."

"Harry didn't want to come to the Gala tonight," Ginny announced, changing the subject on queue.

"Big surprise," Hermione replied with a wink. "You both look dashing though, quite the couple."

Ginny smiled widely and pulled me closer to her and a second later a blinding flash went off in my eyes before she whirled us around for a second picture to be taken. "A little warning next time?" I muttered, trying to quell the annoyance that was threatening to leak into my tone.

"I thought you saw them," she admitted guiltily with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "Sorry. Two more up ahead."

This time I was ready for them and I pulled Hermione and Ron into the shots as well. After that we were done with the press photos for a while, but I wasn't relieved; I knew it only ceased to make room for the hard part to begin, the part of the night I was least looking forward to -the meet-n-greet. The Minister strode over to us looking slightly ominous in his black on black dress robes. He offered his hand and I shook it at once before Ginny and I were escorted into a gathered group of very wealthy-looking witches and wizards.

"Harry, I'd like you to meet Senor Escobar Montoya, Minister for Spain, and his wife Angelica," Kingsley began. I shook their hands and smiled while Ginny complimented their attire before chattering away about our brief trip to Spain last fall. They were immediately taken with her and all I had to do was stand there at her side and nod in agreement. It was perfect.

After that I met with the Ministers for America, Russia and Australia before getting a moment alone with my fiancée. "Care to dance?" I asked, holding out my hand for her to take, which she did gladly.

As we spun around the dance floor, her head rested carefully on my shoulder and she sighed. "I'm sorry I've been a little nuts with the whole wedding thing. We should have just eloped."

I laughed and laced my arms tighter around her waist. "Too late now," I chimed. "I'm not going to be at the business end of your mother's wand for running off with you now. At least we know where you get your exuberance from though," I added, nodding my head toward Hermione who was watching us with a careful smile, and recalling her story of an overexcited Molly Weasley.

"She'll be your mother too, soon enough," Ginny giggled in response.

"I'm looking forward to having a family," I told her honestly. Even if I wasn't terribly excited about the wedding I was very happy to be making Ron my brother officially and having a family all my own.

As the music died away she smiled up at me and we slowed our dancing. "I love you, Harry Potter," she breathed, her cheeks flushed with happiness.

This is what it was about, her smiling face brightened my day and all that nonsense with Malfoy had just been cold feet about getting married. I had been afraid and he was there to give me an outlet for that fear. I was being tested, I was sure of it; the world was making sure that I was ready for marriage, ready for Ginny, and I passed the test.

"I love -Malfoy?" I blurted, having watched Draco walk into the room just over Ginny's shoulder. "What is he doing here?"

Ginny whirled around and followed my line of sight. There, gliding down the marble entrance stairs like an icy wraith was Draco Malfoy -and his date. My throat closed tightly and suddenly I couldn't breathe. Draco looked amazing clad in pewter gray robes with an emerald shirt peeking out from underneath. He was just as angelic as he had been when I saw him months before and I hated that fact -almost as much as I hated the streak of jealousy that flamed through me when I saw the gorgeous man on his arm.

"That's the French Minister, Luke Beauchamp," Hermione told me. I had missed her walking over to us as I stared at Malfoy and his date. "He's dreamy," she sighed, only somewhat joking.

The man was perfectly matched with Draco, tall dark and handsome, the French Minister complimented Draco's pale brilliance quite well -too well. Long black hair fell in perfect waves down the man's back, his robes -a royal blue inset with a gray that matched Draco's robes- draped exquisitely on his lithe form and his crystalline blue eyes practically glittered in the light of the ballroom. Women and men alike swooned at his feet and it hit me like a Hex to the chest that they were heading right for us.

"You must be 'Arry Potter," the man remarked in a heavy accent as they grew close. "Drake 'as told me much about you."

I smiled while gritting my teeth and extended my hand to the French Minister. He shook it firmly and his hand completely enveloped mine. "Drake?" I asked Malfoy with a sharply raised eyebrow.

He merely shrugged at me, and if a shrug could be made to be elegant, Draco just achieved it. "It's just a little nickname he has for me, though this is the first time he's used it outside of the bedroom," Draco replied with a haughty smirk.

My blood boiled at the comment, even though I knew I shouldn't care, and he seemed quite pleased with my reaction. "Have you been dating long then?" I asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"A couple weeks," he admitted.

"Drake is being modest," Luke interjected. "This is our one month anniversary."

"Congratulations, that's wonderful," I replied, trying not to choke on the words.

"Well, you and Ginevra seem so happy together. I wanted that for myself," Draco told me, his eyes boring into mine as if he could glean all my hopes, dreams and memories from just a look.

"Well, we are," I agreed, pulling Ginny in closer, maybe closer than needed. "Happy, I mean."

"Ow, Harry, you're hurting me," Ginny gasped, trying to wiggle free of my tight grasp of her waist.

"Sorry," I muttered as I let her go. Draco watched me curiously and I tried to ignore him, but I found it impossible. His eyes caught me like a fly on the web of a very poisonous spider.

"So, Malfoy, what are you up to these days?" Hermione asked him. I was happy for the distraction, but leery that we'd apparently have to stay and chat awhile.

"This and that," he mused. "We just got back from a trip to Fiji and I've been spending quite a bit of time at Luke's villa in Bordeaux."

"Oh, that sounds lovely," Ginny cooed and I rolled my eyes. I found it odd that my fiancée was being so cool around Malfoy -she abhorred his very existence after all- but I think the beautiful Frenchman had something to do with her suddenly docile nature.

"It does sound nice," Hermione agreed. "Is that where you got this ring?" she asked, pulling Malfoy's hand up and admiring the shiny silver bauble adorning it.

"This?" Draco asked, his eyes flicking up to me briefly. "No, this is a family heirloom. It's quite important to me. I wore it every day of my life until I gave it to someone that I cared for, but unfortunately they recently returned it. Now, I doubt it will ever leave my finger again."

I bit sharply into my bottom lip at his words. I had no idea the ring had been so important to him; I just thought it was a nice piece of jewelry. His dig at me was so well placed that I barely paid attention to the fact that he lied about the rest. When Malfoy gave me that ring it wasn't because he cared about me, it was because he wanted to save his own skin. Still, Malfoy's covertly malicious behavior with my friends tonight made me realize just how much my rejection might have injured his ego.

"Interesting," Hermione mused, and her chocolate brown eyes gazed right at me as she said it.

"Well, we really must be going," Luke announced, having finally broken away from conversing with my fiancée about the beautiful vistas in the South of France. "It was very nice meeting you 'Arry, ze four of us must 'ave dinner together soon."

"Er, yeah," I muttered inelegantly and reluctantly shook his hand one last time.

"Oh, do you have to go?" Ginny asked; I had never heard her sound so smitten, it would have been amusing if she'd been swooning over someone besides Draco's boyfriend. Was there anyone who didn't love the man?

"I'm afraid we do, ma petite. There are plenty of other dignitaries vying for our affections," he noted, and it wasn't lost on me that his crystal blue eyes drifted to my face as he said it.

Ginny pouted until I pulled her back against me, and then she simply looked up at me guiltily. "I'll go get us some drinks," I offered, eager to be alone for a moment after that humiliating run-in with Draco.

She nodded, blushing, and I left her alone with Hermione, letting her stare after the gorgeous Frenchman without me looming over her. I veered away from the beverage table and headed up to the balcony, I needed some fresh air and open space, that room -as large as it was- didn't feel big enough for both myself, Malfoy and his stunning foreign boyfriend; I was suffocating in there. It was unseasonably cool that night and the wind chilled me even through my thick robes, but no amount of cold would drive me back to the madness inside.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, watching my breath fog in the twilight. I wanted to crawl into a hole and bury myself forever. How could this be happening? I thought I was over my nonsensical obsession with Malfoy, but there he was, hand in hand with another bloke, and all I wanted to do was strangle the French arsehole and claim Draco as my own. It was irrational and if I weren't so worried about being overhead I would have screamed my frustration into the air right then and there.

"You had an affair with Draco Malfoy," a voice accused me firmly. I thought for a moment that my conscience was speaking to me aloud until I turned around to see a furious Hermione standing behind me.

"What? I most certainly did not," I balked. "Stop being a hormonal, crazy woman."

"then do you care to explain why you'd been wearing his ring for months?" she demanded.

"I- it's sort of a long story, but it's not what you're thinking," I stammered. It was exactly what she was thinking except that nothing had actually happened. Still, my heart had cheated on Ginny even if my body had not.

"Then tell me," she insisted. "If you're considering stepping out on Ginny then you need to tell her right now -before she gets even more vested in this relationship."

"I'm not. I just got mixed up, but nothing ever happened and nothing ever will," I assured her, because nothing ever can now that he's with Luke Fancypants Frenchman, though I didn't say that part to Hermione for fear of being beaten where I stood.

"Harry James Potter, so help me Merlin, if you're lying to me-" she began, but I promptly cut her off.

"I'm not lying. Nothing really happened, there was a life debt and then a kiss -a very small, inconsequential kiss- and some lingering glances and that ring, and his father's death and -that's not the point. The point is that whatever it was it's not happening anymore. We've both moved on and I couldn't be happier," I lied.

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest. "Could have fooled me. I saw the way you two looked at each other. There's something still between you two, Harry," she replied softly.

I just sighed and sagged against the iron rail of the balcony's edge, wondering if it would just be easier if I jumped. "I made my choice," I told her at last, "and he's made his."

"Did you force it on him?" Hermione asked, moving behind me and awkwardly wrapping me into a hug, her swollen stomach pressing into my back.

"I can't talk about it right now," I whispered, choking on even those words. What use would it be to tell her that I thought I was in love with Draco Malfoy of all people? What would that accomplish, who could ever even believe it?

I felt her nod against my back and I was relieved that my best friend wouldn't push the envelope and make me spill; though I also knew she would require it sooner or later. At least I had bought myself some time to gather my thoughts.

"I should go back inside," I muttered.

"Don't forget to pick up drinks for you both on the way back in," she reminded me, ever the helpful friend, and I knew, if I needed it, Hermione would even help me break Ginny's heart. With a sigh and a nod I went back into the stuffy room, and, by way of the beverage table, I grabbed two glasses of punch and made my way to Ginny.

"Do you think we can go soon?" I asked.

"Sure," she replied quietly. "I think we've made enough of a spectacle of ourselves for one night."

For a moment I thought she suspected the same as Hermione, but her eyes were still warm and loving with no indication of Weasley temper on the rise. "Let's get out of here then," I told her and we made our way through the crowd, thankfully not bumping into any blondes or their French boyfriends on the way out.

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Author's Note: I don't think I redeemed her but is she even a little less repulsive than before? And how about out newcomer, Mr. French Fancypants? What do we think of him?