The Enemy of Souls

Chapter Three

***

December 2004

Ginny fervently wished she were at home playing Quidditch with her brothers. An easy, comfortable Quidditch game would be a perfect way to pass the time, but instead, she found herself dealing with more badgering and pestering from her mum and her three sisters-in-law. This last minute Christmas shopping in Diagon Alley was not a situation she relished.

"I'm at a loss at what to get George," Diana admitted.

Hermione smothered a giggle. "You haven't got him anything yet?"

"No," Diana replied. "I went on a mad frenzy getting things for James-" She paused to smile fondly at her infant son, who was currently being happily cuddled by Fleur, "-and left George off for the last minute."

"Ginny dear, is there any place in particular you'd like to stop by?" her mother asked.

Ginny forced a smile. "No, Mum, I've finished all my shopping."

They reached Flourish and Blotts, which Hermione insisted they stop by. Ginny peered inside.

"Er, look, I'll just wait out here, Mum," she decided, noting how crowded it was inside.

Her mother looked around at her oddly. "Outside? Whatever for?"

"Well, I mean... like I said, I haven't really got anything I need to buy," Ginny pointed out. "Besides, it looks really crowded. Why don't I just take James and sit out here?"

Her mother was still looking at her oddly, but Diana hadn't noticed. She beamed at Ginny. "Wonderful," she decided, and with that, Fleur passed off the baby boy to Ginny, and the four women went inside.

"Thank goodness," Ginny murmured, sinking onto a bench nearby. She hated feeling as though she were bringing everyone down, although, she didn't think anyone had really noticed how glum she was. Christmas used to be her favorite time of the year, but ever since Blaise had died, in only left her feeling empty. She hardly felt she could confide in her family about it, however. Ron had seen to that. Though he'd come to trust some former Slytherins, such as Tracey Davis, who had joined the D.A., he'd never been able to accept Blaise. Partly, of course, because Blaise had refused to join the defense group. A Slytherin to the core, he'd seen too much danger and not enough profit in the D.A., and had opted to stay out of it. So Ron had always been suspicious of Blaise, and unfortunately, he'd quickly convinced most of her family that his suspicions were justly founded. Ginny had felt slightly alienated from her family ever since. And instead of bringing them closer together, Blaise's death only seemed to distance Ginny more and more.

But no matter how monotonous her life could seem sometimes, spending time with her baby nephew always brought a little bit of happiness to her day. She laughed quietly at his antics, as he tried to wriggle out of her grasp. He would probably turn out just like his father. George had married Diana in the spring, about a year and a half ago. He'd known her at Hogwarts- she'd played Quidditch for her house team, Ravenclaw- and they'd dated casually a few times, but then lost touch once they both left school. It was by mere chance, a few years ago, that Diana ran into George at the twins' shop, and they'd quickly begun dating again.

James fussed about for several more minutes before Ginny stood with a sigh. "I think we both need a little snack," she told him, "or maybe something warm to drink. What do you think?"

James only smiled vaguely in agreement, and Ginny set off for the small cafe that had replaced Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.

After purchasing a cup of hot chocolate, Ginny found a small table outside. She'd only barely seated herself when it all began to happen- so quickly, just as it had five years ago in Hogsmeade. Terrified screams somewhere off to her right alerted Ginny to trouble, and she leapt to her feet with James. Her eyes widened as she gazed off down the street and spotted green and red light far off in the distance, and a moment later, she heard shouted curses and spells.

For a moment, Ginny was frozen as people around her began to scream and run haphazardly. For a moment, all she could remember was that day in Hogsmeade, with so many people dying. For a moment, Blaise's face swam before her eyes, in the midst of blood and screaming and terror....

Then James gave a frightened wail, and Ginny snapped back to her senses as her chocolate slipped from her hand to splatter on the street below. Someone shoved by her as the transgression grew closer, and the severity of the situation hit Ginny with full impact. She turned to run the opposite way as most were doing, back towards the bookshop, but just as she turned green light shot by her, hit a bench on the side of the street, and smashed it to bits.

Ginny stared in horrified shock at the place where the bench had been. "Oh, shit."

And then she was running, as best she could, with a bawling James in her arms. She didn't dare look back for fear of what she knew she would see- Death Eaters killing and innocents dying. Total destruction, as it had been in Hogsmeade.

She was brought up short and to a halt when she spotted the curses being let off in the direction that she was running towards. Ginny swore violently, looking around desperately for a safe place. With James to look after, she couldn't even risk pulling out her wand to duel. How did it all go so horribly wrong?

The shouted curses and screams behind her reached a crescendo, and Ginny spun about with a gasp, shifting James into one arm and grasping desperately for her wand at the same time. Death Eaters were amongst the terrified civilians, curses being shot and people being killed-

And then, so suddenly she couldn't say how it happened, a Death Eater got too close, and Ginny reacted instantly. "Impedimenta!"

The Death Eater went flying back and slammed into another, sending them both sprawling to the street ground. Ginny instantly wished she'd used another spell, as the sudden display drew the attention of several Death Eaters to her. One of them shot a jet of green light at her from his wand, and Ginny threw herself to one side, falling to the ground with James, behind a bench. She watched as another jet of green light hit the street right beside her, and then she acted. She sat the wailing James down, safely secured behind the bench, grasped her wand, and leapt to her feet. "Stupefy!"

Her spell hit another black-robed Death Eater, but at the same time, three more sprang forward, cornering her hopelessly. The first curse shot, just seconds before the other two, was a jet of red light that Ginny deflected with a shouted, "Protego!" but even as her shield did its work, the other two attackers shot their own curses at her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one Death Eater make that familiar slashing movement with his wand, and Ginny was unprepared to defend herself. Purple flame struck her directly in the chest, and she was too consumed by pain and shock to recognize the Impediment Jinx hurled at her. By the time she went flying back to hit the brick wall behind her with a crack, she was already out cold.

- - - - -

Draco peered around his surroundings edgily. "Isn't this- a bit- well, risky?" he asked dubiously.

Lucius Malfoy glanced over at his son with a weary sigh. "Draco," he said testily, "you've said this just about every time you've come here."

"Well, you'd think someone would realize you lot are using this place to hide out," Draco said grumpily. "Isn't it fairly obvious?"

"It probably has occurred to the Ministry," Lucius noted absently, "but our enchantments hide us well enough. They'll never suspect."

"Don't they realize you've put up enchantments?" Draco said irritably. "I mean, after all, they're wizards too. Most of them filthy half-bloods, true, but still, not Muggles."

Lucius sighed, a trifle impatiently. "Draco, they don't know half the enchantments we're using. And if they did, they wouldn't be quick to admit it, seeing the sort of suspicion it would put them under." He nailed his son with a direct look. "But that's not really what has you worried, is it?"

"Or you," Draco shot back. He knew his father was just as paranoid about him being there as Draco himself was. He'd made it perfectly clear how careful Draco had to be, coming around to see Lucius- what with several Death Eaters after his head.

"Yes, well, you got in here well enough, didn't you?" Lucius reminded him. "No one saw you."

"Except for Jugson," Draco grumbled. "Are you sure he can be trusted?"

"Of course," Lucius said darkly. "He doesn't like Greyback in charge any more than I do."

Draco grimaced at the mention of the werewolf. Fenrir Greyback was not in charge, precisely, of the Death Eaters hiding out, but he was close enough, and it was him and his faction who wanted to see Draco punished for failing to kill Dumbledore, and then fleeing to hide from the Dark Lord for nearly a year, before he was caught and sent to prison.

"So then," Lucius said, scribbling away at some parchment at his desk, "what news? Any hint on the order, or the Ministry?"

"No," Draco said without thinking.

Lucius looked up with a glare. "Nothing?" he growled.

"Well- I mean, nothing you probably don't already know!" Draco sputtered. "Why are you asking me? You've got Death Eaters everywhere!"

"True," Lucius murmured, "and where we haven't, we've got spies... and people like you."

Draco looked up sharply at his tone. "I-"

"You know, we wouldn't have to worry about Greyback and his lot so much," Lucius cut in, "if you would agree to resume your responsibilities as a Death Eater, Draco."

The very mention of such a thing sent Draco's stomach lurching, and his throat tightened in fear. He hoped, for his own sake, that his face remained impassive. "Well, I don't think I should," he said, very carefully, so as to make sure his voice didn't shake.

Lucius glanced up with a raised eyebrow, and Draco tried not to squirm. "Really, Draco, why don't-"

"You know Mother doesn't want me to," Draco said, his tone slightly petulant. "She never wanted me to take the Mark in the first place."

Lucius sighed again, clearly impatient. "You're not a child," he said coldly, "and your mother-"

"Don't tell me that I can just ignore her and do what I want," Draco cut in. "You know as well as I that the day I choose to ignore Mum, she'll have me six feet under."

"So she would," Lucius agreed, looking slightly amused. "Still-"

"Do you even talk to her anymore?" Draco asked suddenly, picking absently at the disgustingly fraying armchair. He didn't meet his father's gaze.

"Sometimes," Lucius said coolly. Draco refused to look, but he could sense his father's eyes boring into him.

"Does she ever come here?"

"No," Lucius said shortly.

Draco glanced up, and saw that his father had returned to his work. "Then how-"

"That isn't your concern, Draco," Lucius said in a voice that booked no argument.

Draco recognized this tone of voice, and he was about to let it go when a horrible suspicion crept upon him. "You don't come by the manor, do you?" he demanded. When Lucius glanced up sharply with his own suspicion, Draco evaded his gaze and quickly said, "I mean- or, well, around anywhere much- do you? I mean, you can't risk... getting caught-"

"Of course," Lucius said evenly. Draco glanced up, and noticed his father was studying him shrewdly. Before he could divert his father's attention, Lucius asked, "Draco, was there something you wanted to tell me?"

"What?" Draco asked sharply.

"I didn't summon you here," Lucius reminded. "Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about?"

Draco wondered whether his own apprehension was causing him to imagine that extra edge in Lucius's voice. He couldn't already know... could he? Only his mother knew... well, besides Carina, obviously... and his mother had told him she would let him tell Lucius. Still... maybe she'd thought he'd spoken to him already, and let it slip?

"Have you talked to mother... recently?" Draco asked, in a would-be-casual voice.

"Why?" Lucius asked.

"Well- er-"

"I did have some contact around the Ministry lately," Lucius said abruptly, his eyes still boring into Draco, "and I heard some... interesting things."

Draco swallowed. "Like what?" He knew. He knew something, at least. Still, how... no one else knew, surely not. Truth be told, Draco didn't know if Carina had said anything to anyone. He hadn't spoken to her since she'd left so angrily a few days ago, but... surely there couldn't be anything going 'round the Ministry about it....

"Things concerning you," Lucius said flatly.

Draco winced. "Dad, I-"

"You never told me you've been seeing the Moon girl," Lucius said, glancing over his parchment. Had Draco's nerves not been so tightly strung, he might've noticed that Lucius didn't seem that angry.

"Well, no," Draco managed, once his shock was underway, "I didn't think... I mean... you've got more important things to deal with, like... Potter. Have you any clue where he is?"

Lucius ignored this not-so-subtle attempt to change the subject. "She was in your year at school, wasn't she?"

"Yes," Draco said, a bit sullenly.

"Is she at the Ministry as well?"

"No," Draco answered, "she's a Healer at St. Mungo's."

"And her family is one of pure blood, is it not?"

"Yes," Draco said, going a bit impatient himself with the interrogation.

"So do you intend to marry her?" Lucius asked, his voice deceptively mild.

"What?" Draco was startled.

"As I understand it," Lucius went on smoothly, "you've been seeing her fairly consistently for the past- what? - five months?"

"More like four," Draco said curtly, "and it's not- I mean, we're not- serious-" He broke off abruptly. What on earth was he saying? He'd come to tell his father he'd gotten Carina pregnant, and he was starting off by insisting they weren't serious?

"I see," Lucius said gravely, carefully rolling up the parchment to seal it.

"But then again, we have- considered, er... more," Draco said lamely.

Lucius raised an eyebrow, frowning. "But you're not serious?"

"Well-"

Draco was cut off abruptly by a harsh knock on the door.

"Who's there?" Lucius called, still frowning at Draco.

"It's me," came a raspy answer; Draco recognized the voice as Jugson's. A moment later, the door swung open to reveal the thin man who had let Draco through into the Death Eaters' hideout.

"Lucius," Jugson said instantly, "we've had word from- Draco." Jugson started visibly. "I didn't realize you were still here. You'd best get back to the manor; they're looking for you there-"

"For what?" Lucius demanded as Draco immediately got to his feet.

"It's your wife," Jugson said soberly. "She was- involved, in, er- the attack-"

Draco's blood ran cold. "What attack?" he demanded, looking from Jugson to his father. When no one answered him straightaway, he reiterated, "Dad, what attack?"

"That's impossible," Lucius said, coming to his feet and around the desk to look the man straight in the eye. "I warned her about it ahead of time; I made sure she knew exactly when and where not to be! She wouldn't have been there for anything!"

"Been where?" Draco demanded.

Jugson shifted uneasily from one foot to another, looking uncertainly between the two Malfoy men. "Lucius, I- I'm sorry; I don't know what to tell you, but it was confirmed by several sources, including the Ministry- they've got her at St. Mungo's, and they're looking for you, Draco, at the manor, to let you know-"

"Draco-" Lucius began, but Draco didn't wait to hear it. He was gone before any more words could leave his father's lips.

- - - - -

When Ginny slipped back from troubled dreams into the conscious world, all was dark and she had no idea where she was or how she'd gotten there. Immediately alarmed and slightly panicked, she sat straight up and instantly regretted the movement. After a moment of intense pain, she glanced around wildly. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but by the time they had, she'd realized she was in a comfortable, if somewhat high, bed. Her chest was aching, she was wearing a strange garment, and she couldn't quite remember what had recently happened. Then she realized she was in a hospital room, and it all came flooding back.

She knew she must have come out all right after the attack, if she was safely located in St. Mungo's, but fear for James seized her. She'd left him behind that bench- there'd been no safer place for him at the time. She'd meant to deal with the Death Eaters and then grab the boy and run to safety, but she'd never gotten that far. What had happened to James?

There was a small window in the wall to her right, and it was dark outside as well. Ginny realized it must be late at night. To her left were two more beds. She could just barely make out a sleeping figure in the bed beside her, but the last bed seemed to be empty.

A creaking sound, like that of an opening door, and the shuffling of more than one pair of feet alerted her to the area across the room. Directly across from her was a counter of some sort, with what looked like a sink. A curtain- which began at the far wall with the door, and ran just past Ginny's bed- covered the rest of the other side of the room. She heard lowered voices for a moment, but couldn't make out what they were saying. She quietly slipped out from under the covers, and carefully swung her legs around until they dangled off the edge of the bed. When she still could not make out any clear words, she leaned forward, ever so slightly. She failed to notice when she began to lose her balance, and with an almost silent squeak, tumbled to the floor. Her legs trembled, her chest felt on fire, and though she hastily grabbed onto the edge of the bed, her knees from gave out beneath her and she found herself on the floor.

She was certain she would've been heard, with all the commotion she was making, were it not for the fact that one of the occupants opposite the curtain had raised his voice until he was nearly shouting, all throughout her entire upheaval. She was shocked when she recognized the voice.

"So what are you saying? She's alive; you've just said that, so what's the problem?"

"Malfoy?" Ginny whispered, so silently she couldn't be heard. Curious, she crept forward on hands and knees until she sat at the edge of the curtain on the floor. She dared to peek around but only caught a brief glimpse of Draco Malfoy and a Healer clustered around someone in a bed in the far corner of the room, near the door. She whipped her head back around for fear of being seen and listened intently.

"Mr. Malfoy, please, keep your voice down," the Healer urged him. "There are patients sleeping just opposite here. Now... as to your mother..."

"Yes?" Malfoy demanded impatiently.

"The spell she was hit by- while it did not, in fact, take her life- caused permanent damage to her mind."

There was a pause. "Meaning what?" Malfoy asked. His voice sounded strained, as though he were having trouble breathing.

"Her mind is relatively... in pieces. Damaged beyond repair, and she-"

"What does that mean?" Malfoy reiterated, sounding desperate. "Are you saying she's insane?"

"Not precisely," the Healer replied, his voice calm but sympathetic. "What it means, Mr. Malfoy, is that her brain is... dead, as we know it. Yes, her heart is still beating, thus sustaining her life, but this coma she's slipped into... well, she won't ever be able to wake from it."

The pause, this time, was much longer. Ginny realized she was holding her breath. An odd feeling had settled in the pit of her stomach, and though she couldn't quite say what it was, it was horribly dreadful. The silence seemed to stretch forever, and then finally-

"Never?" Malfoy's voice was no more than a whisper.

"I'm afraid so," the Healer said, still professional but consoling.

"There's got to be some way-"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy."

"Don't tell me you're sorry!" Malfoy shot back furiously. "I don't care if you're sorry! I- she can't-"

"Mr. Malfoy, I realize this must be very difficult for you-"

"There has to be some way." Ginny started at the pleading tone Malfoy had taken. Pleading sounded odd coming from that usually cruel, drawling voice.

There was another awful pause, and then, "I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy." The Healer's voice had a note of finality to it this time. When Malfoy came up with no response, the Healer went on, "You can stay here if you like. In the morning, your mother will be moved to the ward for permanent spell damage." There was more shuffling of feet, and then the door opened and closed behind the Healer.

Ginny's chin drooped to her chest. She felt more horrible than she'd felt in a long time. Other than that instinctual sentiment, she didn't know what to think or feel. Surely this was what he deserved. Surely, after everything she and her family had suffered at the hands of the Death Eaters, surely this was justified... but for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to really believe that. She hated herself for it; it felt terribly, terribly wrong. Surely it went against all ethical codes to feel badly for someone who'd so persistently hurt your family, someone who went to such great lengths to make you miserable...

"Why were you there?" Ginny's head snapped back up, thinking Malfoy had seen her, but then she realized he was speaking to his comatose mum. "Why? I- you weren't supposed to be there, you weren't-"

His words ended abruptly, caught in an odd, choked sound that deepened and went on, shaky between small gasps for breath. Ginny was puzzled for a few seconds before she realized, with some shock, that he was crying. Swallowing hard, she dared to peer around the curtain to see him- not just crying, but weeping. He was hunched over a small table at the bedside, one hand desperately grasping the edge of the table for support and the other curled into a fist at his chest. Sobs racked his entire body. Ginny felt sick, hating this intense pity for a man she'd always considered an enemy. Shutting her eyes, as though to shut out his anguished sobs, she brought her head back from around the curtain and lowered it into her hands, feeling quite miserable. She vaguely thought that maybe she should try to get to her feet and somehow get back into bed, but suddenly, it all hurt too much to try and move and all.

So she sat there, eyes shut and curled up in a ball, until slowly, the sounds of Malfoy's pained tears lulled her into a deep sleep.

She dreamt of darkness and Death Eaters and attacks and babies crying and terror and screaming and running and curses and pain and Blaise and hopeless desperation. It seemed to go on for an eternity, and when she was none-too-gently kicked into consciousness, there was a small ray of sunlight streaming in through the small window.

"Weasley!"

Ginny blinked. She shifted slightly, still drowsy. After a moment's pause, she struggled to sit upright, in spite of protesting limbs and a groggy mind. Suddenly remembering her name being called, she glanced up sleepily, slightly uncertain. That white blond head, she knew him... "Malfoy?" she said vaguely. Alarms went off in her head as she identified him, but she was still too drowsy to remember why.

He scowled at her. "What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" he hissed.

"Huh?" Desperately, she attempted to get her bearings, glancing around the slightly familiar hospital room.

"What are you doing? On the floor?"

Ginny blinked again, glancing down. Ah, yes, she was on the floor. Struggling to remember why, she suddenly recalled what she'd heard last night, and she glanced up hastily at Malfoy with wide eyes.

"I was just... erm... I don't know," she finished lamely. She glared. "What business is it of yours, anyway?"

"Only returning a favor, Weasley," Malfoy said nastily. It took her a moment to realize he must be referring to the incident in the hospital wing at school a couple of months back.

Ginny sighed. "What time is it?" she asked, glancing around for some hint.

"Early morning," Malfoy said shortly, beginning to turn away from her. "You should get back to your bed, Weasley."

"Um.... I can't," she threw after him, deeply humiliated that she had to admit this to him.

He glanced around at her with a puzzled, irritated look. "What?"

"I can't get up," Ginny muttered, evading his gaze.

"You what?"

"I think I fell out of bed," she said miserably, daring a quick glance at his face.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat bitterly amused. "What, and you just rolled all the way across the room?"

"Well-"

"What happened to you anyway?" he sneered, crossing back over to her but making no move to help her up.

"What do you care?" she snapped.

"I'm asking, aren't I?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Some curse," she said quietly, "in- Diagon Alley."

The effect of those words on Malfoy was amazing, He looked as though he'd just been slapped. It was only there for an instant, and then his usual sneer was back in place, this one particularly vicious. "What, can't hold your own anymore, Weasley? Can't defend yourself properly?"

"You mean since I hit you with that Bat-Bogey Hex back in school?" Ginny answered coolly. Malfoy's expression grew dark, and he opened his mouth to speak, but she went on.

"Anyway, for your information, I was somewhat hindered," Ginny told him. "Back in Diagon Alley, I mean. I had my nephew with me, my infant nephew-" She shot him a deathly glare, "-whom I'm quite sure your Death Eater pals wouldn't have hesitated to kill."

She expected another retort, but what she got was something quite different. It was as though a transformation of sorts took place within him. No visible emotion passed over his face; his expression remained as impassive as ever, but for a moment, the battle of emotions wrestling inside of him was so vociferous that Ginny didn't need any sense except intuition to recognize it. He stared at Ginny for some time, regarding her very intently. Then, without a single word, he bent down- taking her by such surprise that she was fairly alarmed- and scooped her up into his arms, grunting slightly at the weight. "Which bed?"

"Er... the one by the window, there-"

He dropped her onto the bed, so abruptly, in fact, that any gratitude she felt towards him nearly disappeared completely. But before she could say anything, he turned to go. She was completely bewildered, and even more so when he paused in his exit, and then turned back to her.

"Your nephew," he said, watching her closely, "is he... all right?"

Ginny was surprised. This didn't seem anything like the Draco Malfoy she knew. Could this possibly have anything to do with what happened to his mum?

"I... don't know," she said honestly. "I was knocked out... woke up here, just last night-" She stopped short, dropping her gaze. When she glanced up again, Malfoy was gone, leaving her even more confused than she had been before.

- - - - -

Carina was exhausted. She'd been at work all night in the hospital, as they'd needed every spare hand, including those in training. It was early morning now, and most of the patients brought in from the attack on Diagon Alley had been taken care of. With a weary sigh, she slumped onto a bench along the side of the corridor, shutting her eyes.

It barely registered in her mind when someone sat down beside her a moment later. She didn't bother to open her eyes to look. It wasn't until the queried, "Busy night?" that her eyes flew open.

"Draco," she said, startled. "What are you doing-" She broke off, their last encounter at the manor coming to mind. Eyes narrowing, she crossed her arms stubbornly. "What do you want?"

Surprisingly, he didn't answer right away, neither to snap back at her nor defend himself and his actions. He only looked at her. He seemed... tired and... something else. There was something about him that seemed strangely out of place.

"Draco?" Carina prompted.

"I need to talk to you," he said simply. Everything about him, in the way he spoke, the way he held himself, the expression on his face- it all seemed very restrained, which was not the way Carina was used to seeing Draco Malfoy.

Without any other explanation, he rose from the bench and started off down the corridor. Unnerved, and just a bit irritated that he so confidently expected her to follow, she went after him.

He didn't go far, but held the door open into an unoccupied room nearby. Arms still crossed suspiciously, she stepped inside and immediately whirled around to face him as he shut the door behind himself.

"What's this all about, Draco?" she demanded. "What's going on? If this is another attempt to get me to marry you, I-"

"It's not," he cut in. He sounded slightly annoyed, but she was also stunned to hear his voice shake. "Look. I can't be here long- I shouldn't be here long- but this is... important." Draco sighed, shutting his eyes as though in pain.

Carina had never seen him like this before. His face was very white, and she suddenly realized his tense restraint was an attempt to keep his trembling limbs in check.

Against the reasoning voices in her mind, she stepped towards him, but before she could even reach out for him, he jerked back. She frowned, but waited for him to speak.

"I..." Draco took a deep breath, "...don't think we should get married." She must have looked shocked, or questioning, because he reiterated firmly, "We can't."

"I... er, all right," Carina agreed hesitantly. This was good... wasn't it? "Erm- why?" That didn't quite come out the way she'd meant it to, but when he spoke, it was as though he hadn't even heard her, as though he were speaking recited words and couldn't deviate from them.

"In fact, we can't- I can't-" he cleared his throat. "We can't... be together. Do this together. I mean... I can't..." He took another breath. "No one should know that I'm the father."

If Carina hadn't been shocked before, she was now, and quite sure that it showed. He wasn't serious, was he? "Draco, we've been dating for months. I think most people will realize that-"

"I don't care. Lie. Say it's someone else," Draco said resolutely. "In fact, that would even explain why we're not together anymore-"

"Are you saying-" Carina broke off, shaking her head. Her mind was doing its usual reasoning, trying to convince her that this wasn't necessarily bad news for her, but in spite of that, it seemed surreal. She couldn't believe he was actually willing to do this- it was the last thing in the world she ever would ever expect from him. "You don't want to be a part of this at all?"

Draco shut his eyes, letting out a huge breath. "It's not really about want," he muttered, and though it was not for her ears, she heard him.

She was perplexed. "I don't understand," she confessed. "Why in the world-"

"It doesn't matter why," he snapped. "I just- I can't-" He stopped and swallowed. There was a pause that seemed to last forever, and then he shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Then he turned away from her and left the room.

It wasn't the words of his parting that shocked her. It was how much it sounded as though he actually meant it.

- - - - -