The Enemy of Souls

Chapter Two

***

November, 2004

"You know, Gin, I'm always up for a good Quidditch match." Ron paused in his ascent up the stands to survey the field over his shoulder. "But explain to me why we're here again?"

Ginny sighed and urged her brother to continue climbing. She'd asked Ron to come along with her to Hogwarts that day for the first Quidditch match of the season, between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Of course, neither of them were at school anymore, but it wasn't too out of place to have visitors at the matches.

"Carina's supposed to be here," Ginny said tersely. "With Malfoy."

"Carina Moon? What's that slimy git doing with her?" Ron demanded, weaving through the crowd. "And since when are the two of you so chummy, anyway?"

"Don't you know anything?" Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm sure I've explained this to you. More than once."

"Well, explain it again."

"Carina is-" Ginny hurried up the steps, closing the distance between her and Ron, so that she could lower her voice. "She's the spy we've got on Malfoy. Remember?"

"She is?" Ron whirled around, nearly knocking Ginny down the stands.

"Of course, you idiot," Ginny hissed, steadying herself on her brother's shoulder. "Why did you think she was dating him, for his pointy good looks and tainted money?"

Ron's eyes widened. "She's dating him?"

"Merlin help me," Ginny muttered, pushing past Ron. "Yes, she's dating him. She's been dating him for the past three months. Where have you been?" She threw her hands up in irritation.

"Been getting pummeled by Death Eaters, that's where I've been," Ron grumbled, shuffling up the steps behind her.

"Any leads on that, by that way? Any more attacks?"

"Nothing." Ron sighed. "I don't remember much of the last attack, anyway."

Ginny pursed her lips in apprehension. "Well, the Order's working on it, anyway. And on Malfoy, which is why Carina and I have suddenly become best friends."

"But you're not part of that job," Ron objected, "are you? Spying on Malfoy, I mean?"

Ginny paused as they approached the top box of the stands, squinting at the teachers and visitors occupying it. "It never hurts to have another set of eyes."

"Yeah, but does it have to be you?" When Ginny didn't answer, Ron took her by the arm and pulled her around to face him. "Gin. You've been far too caught up in this whole Malfoy thing since that incident in the hospital."

"So?" she snapped.

"So, I'm worried about you!" Ron shook his head. "It's like Harry in sixth year, all over again."

"Yeah, and he was right about Malfoy then, wasn't he?" Ginny reminded him. Ron shook his head again and opened his mouth to protest, but she didn't give him time. "Look, I know what I'm doing, all right? Lupin hasn't got me on anything else at the moment, so it doesn't-"

"No, of course he doesn't," Ron said darkly. He suddenly seemed very keen to avoid her eyes. "Because he knows you're right busy at work, doesn't he? What with all your cases, and on top of that, your own private assignment."

Ginny froze, her jaw tightening. "I'm not getting into this with you," she said, her tone very cold and very quiet. "Not now."

"Gin-"

"He's dead, Ron," Ginny hissed, coming down a step to close in on him. "He's dead! You'd think you'd let well alone now, but you never stop, do you?"

"Ginny, I didn't mean-"

"I don't have time for this." Ginny let out a dry laugh, turning her back on Ron. "You can come with me, or you can stay, but I don't have time to discuss my dead boyfriend with you." And with that, she headed for the top box.

Once there, however, she scanned the rows of teachers and visitors to no avail. She didn't see Carina anywhere. "They're not here," she murmured, her heart sinking.

"Sure they are." Ginny jumped, not having realized that Ron had followed her. "There's Malfoy, anyway, the jumped-up arse. Down near the front."

Ginny followed Ron's gaze. He was right, there was Malfoy, lounging in the far corner as though he owned the place. You'd think five years in prison would teach him some humility, she thought sourly. Aloud, she said, "But where's Carina?"

Ron shrugged. "Dunno. Look, there's a free space there, next to Flitwick. You coming?"

"Sure," Ginny replied, still distracted as she stared at Malfoy. She hadn't much excuse to confront him without Carina; it would seem too suspicious. She didn't know what to do, besides sit down and watch the game.

She tried to focus on the match, but her eyes kept straying back to that pale blond head a few rows below her. At one point, after they'd been there awhile, Ron grabbed her by the elbow, pointing excitedly. "Oh, bollocks, I think he's seen the Snitch!"

Ginny glanced to where Ron was pointing and watched the Slytherin Seeker for a few moments before her gaze drifted back to the front row below her. Only this time, instead of the back of his head, she found herself gazing into a pair of grey orbs.

Ginny jerked her eyes away as though the sight of him had burned her. The crowd was suddenly rowdy and screaming around her, Ron included, but she didn't pay them any attention. "Ron, I'll be right back," she shouted over the noise, but when she climbed over him, he didn't even notice.

She hurried down the steps, violently working to avoid looking in Malfoy's direction again. She wasn't entirely sure where she was going, just that she'd panicked when she found Malfoy staring at her. Was he onto her? Had he realized she was spying on him? Had she put Carina's whole life in jeopardy because of her damned curiosity?

She was just on her way out of the top box when she slammed into someone, hard and fast. Ginny reeled back, the wind knocked out of her, and just managed to catch herself from falling flat on her arse.

"Looking for me, Weasley?"

Ginny glanced up at the sneering voice, finding herself caught between irritation and anxiety. Malfoy stood smirking over her, hands in his pockets, seemingly as oblivious to all the noise as she was. "No," she retorted, immediately taking the defensive.

He merely raised his eyebrows in response, a skeptical expression on his face.

Ginny flushed. Attempting to salvage some part of this disaster, she flipped her hair out of her face and said, "Well, yes, but only because I thought Carina was supposed to be with you. She said she'd be coming today with you."

"I see." Malfoy snorted. "And you came out here today just to see me?"

"To see Carina. You know, because we're friends?" Ginny rolled her eyes, her apprehension quickly giving way to annoyance.

"Well." Malfoy seemed a little disgruntled by this answer. "Yes, she mentioned something to that effect."

At this, Ginny breathed a little easier and silently thanked Carina for helping her cause. "So, where is she, then? Didn't she come?"

"No." Malfoy folded his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowed. "She wasn't feeling well."

"Malfoy!" Ginny threw her hands up in exasperation. "And you just left her home alone and came anyway?"

Malfoy blinked. "Yes. Why not?"

"Never mind," she grumbled, rubbing her shoulder where someone had jostled past her. "Hey," she said, glancing around for the first time, "why is everyone leaving? Is the game over?"

Malfoy sneered. "Oh, brilliant observation. The game ended before you got down here, Weasley. Slytherin won," he ended, his nose in the air.

"It's just a stupid school game." Ginny frowned at his smug attitude.

"Clearly," Malfoy replied, still with that superior tone of voice. "As you were obviously so distracted, I'm not surprised that you didn't much care for the outcome of the game."

"I wasn't distracted," Ginny snapped.

Malfoy's demeanor changed then, and he looked at her with a knowing gleam in his eye. "Oh, I'd say you were pretty distracted by the look of things, Weasley. In fact, from what I hear-" He smirked and leaned back against the railing, "you've been pretty distracted for the past five years."

Ginny opened her mouth, but suppressed the hot retort. She paused. "What does that mean?" she asked finally.

Malfoy's smirk grew wider, and Ginny's temper shorter. "Look, Malfoy, I don't have time for your slimy-"

"He's not worth all this, you know," Malfoy said suddenly, straightening from his comfortably-slouched position against the railing.

Ginny froze and went very, very still. "What? Who?"

"You know who," Malfoy answered. "Zabini, of course, who else?"

For a moment, Ginny could only stare, fairly amazed that she kept her anger in control. "Don't," she finally managed from between clenched teeth.

"Don't what?" Malfoy asked innocently.

"Don't- talk to me about Blaise," she snapped.

"What, Weasley, can't I even mention his name?" Malfoy inquired with a raised eyebrow. He stepped closer to Ginny as the crowd around them began to thin, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"You shouldn't," Ginny told him, trembling with suppressed rage, "seeing as he was a far better person than you'll ever be-"

"I can't think of anything Zabini was better at than me, Weasley," Malfoy drawled. "Except maybe looking pretty and taking pity on a poor, Muggle-loving, excuse for a witch like you."

"Shut up," Ginny spat.

"What's the matter, Weasley? Don't like admitting that you were never anything but a pity case?"

Any semblance of control Ginny had put up snapped. She swung her fist back, ready to slam it into Malfoy's face, but he ducked back slightly and deftly caught her fist in his hand. Angrily, she wrenched out of his grip.

"Now, now Weasley," Malfoy said smoothly, stepping away from her. "Wouldn't do to have the Ministry's prize Aurors hitting ordinary citizens in public." His words dripped with sarcasm.

Keeping her temper in check, Ginny leveled an icy gaze at Malfoy. "Death Eaters don't count."

Malfoy jerked as though she had hit him. Glaring fiercely, he turned on his heel and left the stands, quickly vanishing from sight.

The seats around her were virtually empty now. Ron was nowhere in sight; she supposed he'd walked past her without noticing, thinking she'd left already. She couldn't really bring herself to care at the moment, though. She was absolutely seething. That bigoted prat! How dare he talk about- about-

Ginny swallowed and shut her eyes. Quite suddenly, she was angry- not with Malfoy, but with Blaise. Because as loathe as she was to admit it, Malfoy was right. She wasn't surprised he'd 'heard' that she'd been 'distracted' since Blaise had died. Everyone knew about Ginny Weasley, and what a sodding mess she'd become, filling up her life with a useless search for someone who was probably already dead.

Damn him to hell, what had Blaise done to her? To her life? He'd wrecked everything, destroyed everything she should have had. He'd broken it all down to nothing but bits and pieces of a scattered, forgotten memory.

She used to be such a lively person. On occasion, she still was, but for the most part, the pain of remembering that life, her life before Blaise's death, was so intense that she'd shut down. She'd blocked out those memories until the person she used to be didn't exist anymore. And it was all because of him, damn it all!

The real trick of it was that, until he'd died, she hadn't thought the relationship meant much to her, or to him, for that matter. Merlin, before her sixth year, she couldn't even stand him. He was such a pretty boy, not to mention a slimy Slytherin git to boot, with enough money to finance half of Europe. She'd been annoyed when her work with the D.A., and with Slytherins such as Tracey Davis, had found her spending some time with him, through association. But somewhere along the line, something changed. She discovered that he didn't care half as much about blood as he pretended to for his friends, and he didn't care for Voldemort at all.

"But I don't even know if he loved me," she said dully, speaking to no one. He'd certainly never said it. Neither had she, and she hadn't realized that she did love him until he died. She hadn't thought she could love anyone else after Harry, but Harry left, and her heart didn't seem to care that she'd been waiting for him to come back.

Shutting her eyes, Ginny fell back into the stands and laid her head in her lap. "Damn you, Blaise," she whispered. "I hate you. I hate you."

- - - - -

December, 2004

Carina wasn't cold. This strangely random observation was the first to strike her that morning as she drifted awake. She couldn't quite figure out why this was so odd- her mind was still too fuzzy with sleep to fathom that, and as comfortable as she was, she didn't care enough to fully wake up and figure it out.

Draco shifted beside her, half-consciously reaching out to draw her in close to him. As Carina settled into the crook of his arm, and her mind began to further bury itself back into sleep, the peculiar lack of cold abruptly transformed into something more intense. She wasn't cold, as Draco's bed often was in the chilly winter mornings, no, she was hot. Perspiration lined her forehead, and just as this discomfort began to fully register, so did another. The added heat of Draco's body, combined with the sudden onslaught of nausea rising within her, was just too much to take. She yanked herself from Draco's arms and sat upright, instantly regretting the jerky movement as her stomach gave an unpleasant lurch.

"Carina? Is it morning yet?" Draco murmured sleepily, his eyes fluttering open.

Carina opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly, there wasn't time. Instead, she bolted from the bed and dashed for the toilet. There, she promptly proceeded to empty her stomach of the few contents it contained.

She was vaguely aware of Draco stumbling out of bed and into the loo behind her. "Carina? What are you- urgh!" he yelped, sounding abruptly more alert than he had a few moments ago. "What's wrong with you?"

Stupid git, she thought in exasperation, as she finished throwing up. With Draco merely watching on from a considerable distance and making appropriate sounds of disgust, Carina straightened up and shakily made her way over to the sink. She filled a glass with water to rinse out her mouth, glancing at Draco in the mirror.

"What's wrong with you?" he repeated, finally daring to step forward and come up behind her. "Are you sick?"

She set the glass down on the counter. Draco eyed it warily. "I think that much is obvious," Carina replied dryly, turning to face him. She opened her mouth to say more, but the nausea began to drift in again, so she briefly shut her eyes in order to keep it at bay. Eyes still closed, she pushed past Draco and stumbled back into his room to collapse onto the bed. She promptly wrapped herself in the duvet- she was quite cold now- and tried to keep as still as possible.

After a few seconds, she heard Draco pad over to the bed. "Are you sure you should be in my bed if you're sick?" he asked skeptically.

"If it's contagious," Carina replied, her voice muffled by the sheets, "I'd say I've probably already passed it onto you, wouldn't you?"

"I guess," Draco admitted. She felt the bed bend under his weight as he crawled back into it beside her. He laid a soothing hand on her back, but then asked, "Are you sure you shouldn't go home or something?"

Carina would have rolled her eyes if she'd thought the gesture wouldn't make her dizzy. "I will if it makes you feel better," she acquiesced. "Just let me get my bearings. I don't think I can Apparate while I'm this nauseous."

Once she felt better, she dressed and Apparated home, and there, she spent the rest of the weekend. She'd thought a simple bug probably would have passed after twenty-four hours, but when she woke Monday morning, it was only to once again stagger into the loo and throw up.

It wasn't until she was lying back in her bed, thoroughly determined not to go into work that day, when a small, sneaking suspicion crept into her mind. At first, Carina balked at the idea- it was that absurd, and she attributed the irrationality to her ill disposition- but the more she thought it through, the more logical a possibility it seemed. Her heart sank. No. Surely it couldn't be. The reality of it all slammed into her gut so hard and so fast that she thought she might be sick again. She sat up slowly on her bed, a certain amount of dread seeping into her chest. Nervously, she bit her nails and fiddled with her fingers until she made up her mind. She couldn't just bury the possibility. It was plausible enough that she'd need to confirm it.

Later that day, around noon, Carina Apparated just outside Grimmauld Place and went in. She'd thought to find it empty, but Ron Weasley met her halfway down the corridor. Looking puzzled to see her, he opened his mouth, but Carina spoke first. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you at work?"

Ron shut his mouth, paused, and then opened it again. "I was about to ask you the same," he said warily.

"I'm- er- not well," Carina answered.

"Oh. Well." Ron shoved his hands in his pockets, looking slightly discomfited. "Well, Hermione wouldn't let me go in today. My office owled me early this morning. Apparently, some, er- threats were made."

Carina furrowed her brow. "Threats? From the Death Eaters, you mean? Again?"

Ron sighed and nodded, leaning against the wall. "Yeah."

"Why are they after you so much?" Carina wondered. "They're so convinced that you know where Harry is."

"Well, he is my best mate." Ron shrugged.

"But so's Hermione." Carina frowned. "And they aren't coming after her."

"No. No, they're not." Ron rubbed a hand behind his neck, evading her gaze. "Thank Merlin for that."

Carina narrowed her eyes, watching him intently. "Do you know where Harry is?"

"Nah." Ron waved a hand, straightening up. "Haven't got a clue. Wish the Death Eaters believed that, right?" He grinned, but looked faintly puzzled. "Hey, but if you're not feeling well, why'd you come here? Shouldn't you be at home?"

"Well, I wanted to talk to Lupin. Is he here?"

Ron shook his head, looking baffled. "No, I'm sure he's at home. He wouldn't be here if he didn't know to meet you."

Carina could have smacked herself. Of course he wouldn't. "Oh, damn it all," she muttered.

"What? What's wrong?" he asked apprehensively.

Carina sighed, leaned against the corridor wall, and muttered without thinking, "I think I'm pregnant."

There was a moment's stunned silence. Ron seemed to realize what she'd said as soon as Carina did. Her eyes widened and she turned to stare at him desperately. Sweet Merlin, was her brain so addled she didn't even know what she was saying anymore?

"You- you're- what?" Ron demanded hoarsely. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," Carina said quickly. "I didn't-"

"But you- you just said-"

"No, I didn't, Ron!" Carina sighed in exasperation as she turned away and started down the corridor and into the kitchen. "I didn't say anything; you're imagining things-"

"But you just said!" Ron protested, following her into the kitchen. "You just said you're-"

"Oh, never mind what I said!" Carina snapped. "Just leave it!"

Something else, however, seemed to have struck Ron. "Merlin," he whispered, staring at her with wide eyes. "You- you're-" He broke off, apparently too horror-struck to finish the thought.

"I'm what?" Carina demanded crossly.

Ron swallowed. "You're dating Draco Malfoy," he whispered.

Carina nearly leapt at him. "Ron, you cannot breathe a word of this!" she hissed. "Not- a- word!"

"But-"

"You're not going into work today," she told him, dragging him down into a chair at the kitchen table beside her. "You're sitting right here, and you're going to wait while I go have a test done, and when I come back you're going to stay right here with me until tonight."

"What's tonight?" Ron asked nervously.

Carina chewed her lip and clasped her hands together. "Tonight I go talk to Draco."

- - - - -

Draco was surprised when a house-elf came, late that evening, to let him know that Carina was there to see him. That she'd come so late was not odd in itself, but that she'd come without warning was. He still shared the manor with his mum, after all.

He found her still waiting in the entranceway, twisting her hands together and looking fairly apprehensive. There was a strange look in her eye when she turned to face him, a strange look he couldn't quite place.

"Carina." Draco reached for her to draw her in for a kiss, but she flinched and pulled away before he could even properly raise a hand. He eyed her warily. "What's..." He searched for a word to place her disposition. "What's wrong?"

Carina stared at him, still with that awful look on her face. It was almost... hopeful, wistful, but no, more... appraising. Of what? Him?

"Carina?" he prompted. Damn it, why was she staring at him like that? Draco shifted his feet uneasily under her scrutinizing gaze. After nearly four- or was it five?- months of being with her, he couldn't stand to have her eyes on him like that.

She swallowed, and beneath her feigned control, her voice trembled. "I have to tell you something," she said.

Deciding that he most definitely did not like this and that this most definitely could not be good, he crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay," he said, a trifle impatient.

Carina looked desperate now, as though she wanted him to know what she needed to tell him, but without actually having to say anything. "Well?" he snapped.

She turned away from him suddenly. "Give me a minute," she said, raising her arms over her face.

Draco didn't want to give her a minute. He wanted her to say what she'd come to say so he could deal with it, but he hated this waiting, knowing that he waited for some dreadful news- though what, he couldn't begin to guess. He managed to force himself to remain silent for a few seconds at best, before he burst out, "Damn it all, what the hell is wrong?"

Strangely, where she usually would have snapped back at his impatience, she only sighed and turned to lean against the banister of the staircase. It was as though she hadn't even heard him shout. Draco was on the verge of shaking her when she finally stepped forward, wrapped her arms about herself, and looked at him. She looked terribly vulnerable, which only pushed him to further impatience and irritation. He liked women that could take care of themselves, in fact, that was what he always liked about Carina. He didn't like her looking at him as though she wanted him to care of her.

She seemed to be steeling herself to talk, but then shook her head, and muttered, "Merlin, maybe I should just go."

"No." Draco stepped forward swiftly, blocking her way to the door. "No, you don't get to leave without telling me what's wrong with you! What could possibly be this difficult to say?"

When Carina still didn't respond, he took a huge breath to calm himself and decided to try a different approach. She was close enough now, so cautiously, he reached an arm out to her. She flinched again, turned her head, but he grasped her arm and pulled her to him. Her entire body was rigid and tense, but she finally relaxed into his chest.

"Just tell me," he said quietly.

She mumbled something into his chest, and he looked down at her, placing a hand on her hair. "What?" Draco prompted, leaning back slightly so as to hear her better.

She took a huge breath and stared into his chest. "I'm pregnant," she said softly.

Now, it was Draco's turn to tense. Without really meaning to, he seized her by the arms and pushed her back from him, trying to look into her eyes. "What?" he demanded, startled by how panicked his voice sounded. "What?"

Carina wrenched out of his grip and eyed him anxiously. She rapped her knuckles at her sides, wrung her fingers together, then finally settled with crossing her arms over her chest. "I said I-"

"I heard you," he cut in, his voice strangled. "I- you-" Draco stopped, swallowed, and tried to regain his scattered senses. He felt as though a tumult of a million different emotions were flooding through him, roaring so loudly that he'd been struck deaf from his own thoughts.

He couldn't quite say what she was doing until distantly, he heard her voice. "I should go," she muttered, turning away, but Draco flung out an arm and grabbed her.

"Don't!" he said sharply.

"Draco-"

"I- you can't- go," he got out. "I- sit there-" He pointed aimlessly, in what he thought might be the general direction of a chair. He didn't bother to see if she obeyed, but shut his eyes. Sweet Merlin, he was the one that needed to sit; he felt strangely lightheaded-

He was barely aware of it when Carina reached out to him, grabbed him by the arm and yanked him over to a chair. "Sit," she commanded tersely, shoving him down into it. Draco obeyed without protest, letting his head sink into his hands, amazed that he was actually having to concentrate on keeping his consciousness intact. "This is insane," he muttered.

"Draco, I should go-"

"Go?" he echoed, lifting his head to stare at her. "Are you insane? You can't just- just go-"

"But I-"

"For Merlin's sake, you just said- just said- you're-" He swallowed. Strange, how he couldn't seem to get out that one word.

"I think we both know what I said," Carina snapped, "so neither of us needs to repeat it." Despite her angry tone, Draco found he was grateful to her for that.

"Right," he agreed hollowly. "I- just- don't go." He needed her to be quiet. He needed to think. What was he supposed to do with this information, what were they going to do? Desperately, he got his thoughts in order. "Right," he managed to get out. "Right. Are you sure?"

Carina nodded slowly. "I've done a test, and I went to St. Mungo's. They confirmed it."

"Right." He swallowed. There went that option. What was next? If she was... then he needed to.... "Right," he said, for what seemed the umpteenth time. "Right. Then we've just got... we've got to get married."

"What?" Carina yelped. "Now you're the one who's insane!"

Draco stared at her. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, getting to his feet. He loomed over her, but she stared him down resolutely.

"I'm not going to marry you," Carina informed him, sounding scandalized by the very thought.

"Why not?" he asked in amazement. "We have to get married! I- this- we can't not get married!"

"What, because the Malfoy name will be sullied?" Carina spat. She sounded angry, angry at him, though why, he couldn't imagine. What had he done? Nothing that she hadn't done as well!

"I- no," he sputtered out in response to her accusation. "Because it's, er... the right thing to do."

Carina was glaring at him as though she'd just found out he was a Mudblood. "Oh, please!" she snapped. "You're not doing this because it's right! You're not doing this for me! When have you ever cared about right and wrong?"

Oddly enough, that stung, and he wasn't sure why. After all, Draco reflected, it was fairly true. "Look, I don't see why you're objecting to this," he said impatiently. "I mean, all right, it wasn't exactly something we planned, to get married, but we certainly get along well enough-"

"Draco," Carina interrupted, shaking her head. "I- we can't- you-" She stopped, paused, grasping for words. She finally settled on, "I can't marry you."

I get that, Draco thought sourly. He shook his own head, his frustration mounting. "Then what the hell are you doing here?" he demanded angrily. "What do you want from me?"

Carina stared at him incredulously. "Draco, I don't want anything, I didn't come here to get something out of you.... I came because I thought you should know."

"Like hell you did," Draco snarled. "Why would you give a damn whether I know or not if you don't want me involved?"

"I didn't say I don't want you involved," Carina began, outraged, but Draco cut in.

"Oh, so you want money, is that it? You want-"

"For the last time, I don't want anything from you!" Carina shrieked, finally losing her last shred of control. "I came because- because-"

"Because why?" Draco demanded harshly.

Carina stared at him for what seemed forever, at a loss for words. Then she shook her head, stepping away from him. "Because I didn't know what else to do," she said quietly.

He was fairly shocked at this admission of helplessness, from a woman he'd always known- or thought he'd known- to be secure, poised, and in control. He was grasping for words, for something to say in reply to this, but before he could even think to open his mouth, she turned and Apparated away from the manor without another word.

Draco gaped after her, speechless, but not left so for long. He was thoroughly startled by a brief, cool, "So," behind him.

Draco whirled around. "Mum!" he gasped. "I- you- did you-" He broke off at her less-than-amused, raised eyebrow.

"Well, Draco," his mother said, her voice deceptively calm and quiet, "you've got yourself in a prickly situation." Her eyes blazed furiously.

Draco winced. "Mum, I-"

"You what?" she asked, her voice steely. "Do go on, Draco. You what? What do you intend to do about this?"

Draco swallowed. "You're honestly asking me?"

"Well, you're a grown man, after all," she reminded him. "I suppose I could tell you what to do, but do you really want me to do that?"

Now that he thought about it, Draco did not. "Don't tell Dad," he said immediately. It was the very first thing that came to his mind.

If possible, her eyebrows went even higher. "You plan to keep this from him?"

"No." Draco shook his head. "I just... let me tell him. If he knows of it before I can tell him, he won't give me a chance to..." His voice trailed off.

"To what?" his mother snapped. "Explain? I think the explanation for this is fairly clear, Draco. You were irresponsible and careless-"

"I wasn't!" Draco injected hotly. "She must have been, because I swear..." He stopped and took a deep breath, trying to collect himself together. "Look. Please, Mum, just please, let me tell Dad."

His mother nodded, but she still eyed him askance. "And the girl? What do you intend to do about her? It's Moon, isn't it? A Pureblood family, and with good money. The marriage would be acceptable, if only-"

"I'll marry her," Draco assured her.

"Really? She didn't seem too confident in that idea."

"I'll manage it," Draco promised. "Somehow, I will."