After the Fact

Ginny was relieved to be walking up the familiar pathway of Malfoy Manor, having cleared the usual enchantments at the front gate. No one could Apparate onto the grounds, of course, but Ginny hated Apparition anyway. She'd earned her license after the wedding, but she still preferred flying. Her broomstick was tucked under her arm with the file Harry had given her, the other hand holding her hat to her head as she leaned in against the brisk spring wind.

She pushed open the heavy front door and stepped into the entry hall of the Manor, closing the door against the wind behind her. In an instant, Madam Bernshaw was at her side.

"Mrs. Malfoy," said the housekeeper, who took Ginny's hat and broom. "Your lunch was productive, I presume?"

"Very, thank you," Ginny replied. "Would you leave this file on Mr. Malfoy's desk, please? Thank you. Is my husband upstairs still?"

"No, madam; he's in the gardens."

"Really? How long has he been up?" Ginny asked, moving towards the back of the house.

"Since just after you left, madam. Will you join him?"

"Yes, I think so."

"I'll send for some tea."

"Thank you."

Ginny pushed open the glass doors that led to the gardens behind the house. Ginny had never been one of those girls who went to pieces over flowers. She could have cared less what was in her garden at home or what kind of roses appeared for her on her birthday, but in the process of planning a wedding and, afterwards, redesigning the grounds of the estate to reflect its new ownership, she'd learned more about flowers than she ever wished to know. And, in accordance, found herself more interested in flowers almost everywhere she went. As a result, however, the grounds behind the manor came out looking like some sort of enchanted fairy land, especially in the spring with everything in bloom. Taking a few steps outside, she shaded her eyes with her hands, scanning the grounds for Draco's slim form.

"Looking for something?" came a familiar, silky voice in her ear as an equally familiar arm encircled her waist from behind.

"Take care, sir," she teased. "My husband's a jealous man."

"Is that who you're looking for out here all by yourself?"

"Yes. My husband is supposed to be inside taking care of himself, but I heard a rumor he's escaped."

She giggled as he playfully nibbled her ear. "Did it ever occur to you that your husband was bored out of his mind alone in the house and waiting for you to come home?"

"Well, I'm home now," she answered, turning around in his arms.

Draco's mouth twitched into a smile as he gazed down into the face of his wife. "Indeed. We'll have to find some way to amuse ourselves."

The master and mistress of the house were still locked in a rather intense kiss when two house elves arrived outside carrying a silver tea set between them. They set it on the glass table just at the edge of the garden path and set back towards the house without a second glance; the elves and the housekeeper were used to seeing the couple, now married just over a year, still parading their affection around the grounds like newlyweds.

The clink of the tea set broke the moment, and Draco led Ginny to the table, pulling out her chair before taking his own seat.

"Eileen says you were up just after I left," Ginny remarked.

"Yes, I'm feeling fine, and I couldn't stay sitting still any longer," Draco replied, adding milk to her tea first and then his. "I wish you'd stop saying I was ill and let me go back to taking care of my own business, Gin. I've felt better for a week."

"I know," Ginny sighed. "I just don't want you overdoing it again. You were working entirely too hard for a while, and I just want to be sure you're ok before you jump back into everything again."

"And I love you for it, but it's time I was up and about again. Effective immediately," he replied firmly. "I notified the Ministry that we'll be present for the Minister's address to the Wizengamot tomorrow."

"If you're sure, Draco."

"I'm positive. And remember, there's the annual banquet for the congregation of foreign ministers on Saturday."

"I remember. You've reminded them you won't be here next weekend?"

"Of course. I almost forgot," he said, sipping his tea. "Your mother Flooed in while you were out. She left that recipe you asked for with the house elves."

Ginny set her cup down, disappointed. "She wouldn't stay until I came back?"

Draco smiled wryly. "She may say she likes me, Gin, but I think she's still afraid of the Manor."

"Well, considering the stories Dad used to tell, I can understand why," Ginny giggled. "But really, a little dusting, open the windows, plant a few flowers, and the place comes together quite nicely."

"Thanks, Gin," came his sarcastic reply.

"You're welcome," she shot back.

"Everyone still on for the lake, then?"

"Yes, I think so," she answered, remembering suddenly that Harry was coming also. She wasn't quite sure exactly how to bring that up to Draco, but she knew it would be better done sooner than later.

Picking her cup back up, she sipped in silence for a moment, then began, "By the way, you'll never guess who the Ministry sent to take care of your contracts this afternoon."

"What, your brother? That's nice, then, good to know family's handling the business."

"No, not Ron." She paused. "Harry."

"Harry? Harry...Potter?" Draco inquired, slightly incredulous.

"Yes, what other Harry is there, Draco?"

"There's lots of other people in the world named Harry, love," he pointed out. "What was Harry Potter doing handling my contract at the Ministry?"

"He's working there now, about four months, he said. I guess Ron and Hermione helped him get the job. It probably came as a glowing recommendation, him being Harry Potter and all and his two best friends being heading up their own departments at the Ministry." She paused for a moment to gauge Draco's reaction, but he still seemed to be listening intently. "He seemed happy. At least, he said he is. I think he really is, though."

Draco set down his empty cup. "Good. Let's keep him that way; then he won't come around trying to steal you away," he teased, but Ginny didn't laugh.

"Mum's invited him to join us at the lake house," she blurted out, hoping the faster she said it, the better he'd take it. "And he's coming, of course."

Draco stood up, pushing in his chair. He crossed behind Ginny and, resting his hands on her shoulders, leaned in and kissed her ear. "I don't care," he whispered. "Let him come. Let him follow us around everywhere. Let him move into the Manor, for Merlin's sake. I don't care. I have you."

Ginny grinned and turned to meet his lips. "You're unbelievable," she said into his mouth.

"I know," he replied, taking her hand and smoothly pulling her out of her chair. "And you know, I think you might be right. I should really get back to bed. Care to join me?"

********************************************************************************************

"Virginie! Will you stop that! 'oo knows what is in zat lake!"

"Mum, it's just a lake! Dad says it's ok!"

"Your father 'as no idea what 'e is talking about!"

"Fleur, really, it's all right," coaxed Hermione. "All the kids swim in the lake, and they never catch anything. Nothing that can't be cured with a shower, anyway. Come on, sit with us."

Fleur reluctantly sat on the end of the dock with Ginny and Hermione, leaving her nearly six-year-old daughter to play in the water under the watchful eye of her grandmother.

The family had arrived at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's lake house only that morning. The house sat just on the edge of the water, snug in the woods, concealed by nature--and magic, of course--from any nearby Muggles, for back behind the little cabin stood an odd structure...tall and haphazardly put together, forever leaning this way or that: the Burrow.

The first thing Ginny and Draco had done after returning from their honeymoon was to go hunting for a home for Ginny's parents; now that all the children were out of the house and Mr. Weasley was retired after the war, they ought to have had a nice, comfortable retirement home. Though they'd protested and said they couldn't take such a gift, Molly and Arthur had eventually acquiesced after reflecting upon the pleasant family gatherings that could be possible in a larger house.

But Molly had been desolate on leaving the Burrow, and though Ginny knew it, she knew also that the grief for their old childhood home would subside. What she hadn't known, upon arriving at the lake house to help her parents move in, was that her husband had taken the liberty of magically transplanting their beloved home into the woods just behind the cabin.

"Just a guest house," Draco had said, shrugging, as the Weasley women nearly suffocated him with hugging and crying. "You have to have a guest house, Molly, or you won't have room for everyone."

It had been the first time Mrs. Weasley told him to call her "Mum."

"Everything's going swimmingly so far," Ginny observed, squinting into the sun as she gazed over the lake, where Ron and Harry were out on the little rowboat with David, Ron and Hermione's two-year-old son, trying to teach the toddler to fish.

"Yes, I'd say we're off to a good start," Hermione agreed. "No fires yet, and no fights."

"No drownings," offered Fleur, watching Virginie closely.

"Just wait; we've only been here half a day," Ginny warned. "Where is everyone, anyway?"

"Bill and Arthur 'ave taken Meg 'iking," Fleur offered.

"Hiking? She's two!" Ginny cried.

"Yes, I know," Hermione sighed. "Dad thought she'd like to see the wildflowers up on the hills. But with David on the boat and Meg on the trails, the two of them will sleep like logs tonight."

"Good news for you, Mummy!" Ginny teased, poking Hermione in her once-again round belly.

"That's half of them asleep; let's hope these two are tired out as well," Hermione said, resting her hands on her stomach.

"I don't know 'ow you can stand eet, 'ermione," Fleur said, still staring at Virginie. "Two sets of twins? I cannot even let Virginie out of my sight for a moment. I can't imagine if there were three more of 'er!"

"Things will get interesting," Hermione agreed. "But if you're going to have four kids, I guess two sets of twins is more efficient, in the long run. Just buy double of everything and all that."

"So, Ginny," Fleur began, finally tearing her gaze from her daughter, who had left the water in favor of picking flowers. "When can we expect ze little Malfoys? I think you and Draco must be very lonely in zat 'ouse all alone."

Hermione laughed. "Are you ever even in the house? I saw a picture of you two in the Prophet at some ball. Merlin, Ginny, where do you find those gowns?"

Ginny shook her head. "We're busy," she said, simply.

"But really, haven't you thought about kids yet?" Hermione asked.

Ginny tossed a glance over her shoulder, where Draco was talking to Fred and George about the joke shops--shop in the plural, now, and in several different countries. Still single, the twins were married to their shops, and they always had a thousand business ideas to discuss with Draco.

"We have," she admitted. "But it was just when Draco had signed that first contract with the Ministry, and we wanted to get everything stabilized first. And then he got sick, and of course, we haven't talked about it since."

"But 'e is well now, is 'e not?" Fleur asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

The three women laughed. "Well, we'll see how this weekend goes," Ginny said, tossing another glance back at her husband.

He had been absolutely wonderful thus far, as Ginny should have expected. She had been fretting, unconsciously, that Harry had perhaps not changed as much as he had let on, and that his temper would potentially ignite Draco's as well. But the morning had gone off perfectly...pleasantly, actually. Harry had been a bit awkward, but that was Harry's way. Draco had been smooth and cordial, friendly, in fact, and Harry had relaxed. There was the odd uncomfortable moment at lunch, when she had been seated next to Draco and across from Harry, but her husband's hand roaming her leg beneath the table had been quite enough to keep her distracted from worrying and instead focused on not laughing in the middle of the meal.

The day progressed slowly and lazily; Ginny spent the afternoon alternately lying under a tree with Draco and chasing around her nieces and nephew. She helped her mother with dinner, and tucked in the twins for Hermione when dark finally fell and the adults had time for themselves. The Weasley siblings went immediately to change and prepare for an enormous sort of water wrestling match, while Draco--not much for lake swimming--and Hermione watched from the end of the dock.

"You're sure you don't want to come in?" Ginny said, sitting down on the edge of the dock next to Draco. The rest of the redheads and Harry were already in the middle of the lake, swimming and splashing around and holding each other under water.

"Positive, love. Go have your barbaric fun. I'll be protecting the incapacitated," Draco joked, nudging Hermione.

"Right," Hermione shot back, rolling her eyes. "Go on, Gin; I'll make sure he doesn't fall in."

Ginny pecked Draco on the cheek before sliding into the water and swimming out to join the melee. She immediately caught onto Ron, who was struggling against the twins, and the three of them successfully dunked him under.

Harry had thought of Ginny almost every day since the day she had left him. He had thought of her in every way and from every perspective possible, but today, just now, he was beginning to understand that he could still think of her the way he had so many years ago, before he had ever grown to love her as a woman: as a sister. Seeing her with Draco had pained him at first, but in seeing her so happy, happier perhaps than he could ever have made her, he began to think less of his own jealousy and more of the possibilities that lay in again holding a brotherly claim on her.

But in the middle of the aquatic mess of Weasleys, Harry unwittingly and carelessly jumped onto a dog pile on an unknown form, Bill, he assumed, from the glimpses of hair he caught. It was quite a good fight, the twins against Bill, until the form that was supposed to be Bill went under and was at last released by the twins. It was then that Ginny--not Bill--resurfaced violently and threw her arms around Harry's neck, forcing him off balance and under the water. He was dragged under, for a few moments, and when his head at last popped up again, he was conscious of her body still pressed against his, and all at once, thoughts of brotherly conduct fled his mind. The pressure of her arms around his neck brought back a hundred thousand memories of long-forgotten nights, days, mornings in her presence. All at once he couldn't breathe.

Ginny was laughing, her eyes squeezed tight shut to avoid the murky water, but laughing. "Who is it, Fred or George?" she squealed as she pushed away from Harry, wiping her eyes to open them. When she saw, at last, the pale face of whom it was she had dragged under, her laughter dwindled.

"Harry!" she cried, aware that he was still staring at her, the only still form in the ongoing wrestling match. "Sorry, I thought you were one of the twins."

"No, no, it's...fine," Harry stammered. He was still another moment, then began vigorously rubbing his eyes. "I think I've got something in my eye," he lied. "I'll just...head in for a bit."

"Right," Ginny said, knowing he was lying and feeling horrible that she'd ruined the harmonious mood that had persisted between them so far.

Harry swam off without the others noticing, and Ginny, not wanting anyone to think anything was wrong, half-heartedly rejoined the splashing mob.

They wore themselves out fairly quickly after that, and the siblings waded out and began to pair off with their respective spouses, heading in for the night, half to the cabin and the other half to the Burrow. Ginny and Draco were already established in Ginny's old room, as Mrs. Weasley had cleaned it specifically for them, she said, though they suspected she would have cleaned it if they were coming or not.

Draco lay stretched out on Ginny's bed as his wife stood in her pajamas, brushing her hair clean of lake water. There was something off, he thought, and had been since they'd come in from the water. She'd been too quiet just to be tired, and he wasn't about to let her be unhappy, not when this was the one time she was supposed to be perfectly happy, with the whole family together.

"Something on your mind, Gin?" he asked.

She hesitated, the brush halfway to her head. "Actually," she began. "There is." She set down the brush and crossed the room, perching on the bed. Her face was serious and, Draco thought, slightly nervous. He pushed himself up onto his elbows.

"What is it, love?" he asked. "Something wrong?"

"No," she said, glancing down at her hands, which she'd already twisted up in the bed sheets. "Nothing's wrong...I was just thinking..."

Draco waited. He hated to press his wife; when she was ready, she'd tell him what she was thinking.

True enough, she came out with it after another moment's hesitation. "Do you remember back when you signed that first contract with the Ministry?"

He waited again; of course he remembered. That wasn't the point.

"We were talking," she continued. "About...just after we'd gotten settled and finished working on the Manor, and everything was sure with the Ministry...we were talking about maybe...having a baby."

Draco hadn't forgotten their plans, but in the wake of putting their lives together and then his illness, starting a family had been quite at the back of his mind. Suddenly, now, it was at the forefront, and he didn't have long to think about it; not with his pretty wife sitting before him and looking like she was waiting for a death sentence.

"A baby," he said at last, to buy a few seconds.

"I know we've only been married a year," she answered, as if anticipating opposition. "But it just seems like such a perfect time. Everything's set at the Ministry, the renovations on the Manor are done, and now you're better...I just thought it might be a...a possibility."

Draco paused and pretended to look thoughtful, though he'd made up his mind almost as soon as she'd begun speaking. "You really want to have a baby, Ginny?"

"More than anything," came her breathless reply.

He studied her hands, practically tying the sheets in knots, for a moment more before he couldn't keep from smiling. He leaned up and gently pressed his lips to hers. "Okay," he said.

She froze, registering what he'd said. "Okay?" she asked, as if to check the meaning of the word was still what she thought it was.

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down on top of him. "Yes, okay."

She pushed up from him, looking down into his face, searching his eyes, still not completely trusting his answer. "So...we're trying to have a baby?"

"We'd be trying right now if you'd stop asking questions."

Ginny suddenly appreciated anew the quasi-isolation of the Burrow from her parents' cabin.