Unchained Desires

Chapter Three

*~*

The Guild

He was looking down at the stack of papers he carried, shifting through them irritably. "Whoever you are, you better make this quick. I don't have time to waste on people who can't bother to make an appointment."

"Hello, Malfoy," Ginny said coolly. "Pleasure to see you again. Though I can't really say it is you vain-arrogant-bastard!"

*~*

Ginny watched expectantly as Malfoy froze in the doorway, his head jerking up in disbelief to give her an incredulous look before kicking the door shut behind him.

"What in the name of Salazar do you think you are doing here?" he demanded angrily, tossing his papers into a nearby chair as he strode towards her quickly.

Crossing her arms defensively, Ginny glared back at him. "I needed to speak with you," she answered simply.

"We are not on a friendly basis, Ginevra," he warned, his voice deep with anger, "you can't just come waltzing around here whenever the hell you feel like it!"

"Funny," she shot back, "most people consider having an affair at least a friendly basis!"

Ginny refused to admit that it was a weak retort. Over the four months they had been together their relationship had never reached a stage of companionship or even cordial acknowledgement. In fact, whenever forced together in other circumstances they barely managed to remain civil to each other and constantly reverted back to petty tauntings or insults. She had no doubt that their relationship was based solely on sex; it was the only time that Malfoy was even halfway decent to her.

The wizard was currently glowering darkly at Ginny from across the desk, his eyes unreadable as he assessed her sternly. Sticking out her chin stubbornly, she met his glare until he cursed violently before jerking out his wand to place a silencing charm over the room.

Striding around his desk, he quickly glanced at his papers to ensure that she hadn't been tampering with anything. Reassured, he returned his stormy gaze to her and sneered. "By all means, Weasley, do have a seat."

Shooting him another dark look, Ginny moved to sit in one of the padded chairs arranged before the desk. Malfoy also sat down and leaned back with a calculating expression, the firelight from nearby played over his face.

"You said that you wanted to speak with me," he said coldly. "I trust that it really is important for you to just come strolling through here. Although you Weasleys are normally thick I had assumed that you obtained a little more sense than the rest of the brood."

"You don't have to insult my family," Ginny snapped, suddenly uncomfortable as she became aware of what she had to tell him.

He smirked at her, obviously enjoying releasing some of his anger in the insults. "Actually, by 'thick' I was giving them a compliment. Now if I told you what I really thought-"

"Stop it!" the red head shrieked, fists clenching.

She was shocked to notice that he obeyed. Then she realized that she was trembling violently and a feeling that had been growing in the pit of her stomach suddenly knotted with pain as the blood drained from her face.

Her nervousness over the news that she had to tell him caused her to dread what was to come. There was no way she ever could have been prepared for this and the events of the previous night were starting to catch up with her. What was her family going to do when they found out? The thought made the knot tighten with anxiety.

She didn't notice Malfoy until he was kneeling beside her, taking her hands in his own warm ones as he started to rub them. "Merlin!" he exclaimed. "You feel like ice."

Ginny stared at him mutely for a moment as he continued to rub her hands. It suddenly seemed much more logical and easier to tell him while he was beside her, throwing her puzzled looks other than across a desk and glaring loathingly at her.

Beyond all common sense, she mumbled, "I'm pregnant."

His hands abruptly stopped their rubbing. "What?" he asked breathlessly, looking at her with narrowed eyes.

Fiddling with her skirt, Ginny winced as he gripped her arms in a painful, vise-like grip. "What did you say?" he asked slowly, punctuating the words, while trying to stay calm.

"I said I'm pregnant," she repeated miserably, looking down before risking a quick glance at him.

He was staring at her in shock and quickly got to his feet. "It's not mine," he denied.

Jolted out of her nervousness by the denial, Ginny jumped up angrily. "Like hell it isn't!"

Malfoy smirked down at her. "Do you honestly think that you are the first whore I've had come to me, proclaiming that she was pregnant with my child? You witches get around so much I wouldn't be shocked if it was-"

Ginny reached up and slapped him with all the strength she had, causing him to stagger back a step. "You bloody bitch!" he screamed, raising a hand to his imprinted cheek.

"I am not a whore," Ginny yelled back at him. "And the cursed thing very well is yours because Harry was gone at the time. Four weeks! Ring any bells to you Malfoy?"

She watched him angrily, eyes narrowed to mere slits as comprehension dawned across his features before quickly emptying into its normal impassive look.

"Ha!" she said triumphantly. "It was you. You obliviated me, didn't you, you bastard? Why can't you take a simple no as an answer you idiot? Does Parkinson really not amount to that much in bed?"

Before she could finish the sentence Malfoy was towering over her menacingly, his eyes boring into her own with a detached calm that unnerved her. His face was twisted angrily, the red mark on his cheek emblazoned lividly among the pale flesh.

Penetrating her with his cold gaze he said quietly, "Don't you ever say that again." Ginny shivered at the dangerous undertone to his words and nodded helplessly.

Contemplating her, Malfoy finally stepped back and stated, "Your problem is not mine. There must have been a mistake when you were with... Potter." He seemed to hold back a shudder at the thought before brushing past her impatiently.

"Now, if that is all that you wanted," he continued, conducting the issue as if it was another matter of business he would rather ignore.

"There's a simple way to find out," Ginny informed him, watching him as he froze with his back to her.

He whirled around to stare at her incredulously. "You really do think it's mine?"

Ginny gave him a furious glare.

Relaxing slightly, he gently replied, "Trust me Ginevra, I can understand a little of what you are going through. Just go back to Potter and tell him the truth. While he isn't anywhere near as financially secure as myself he can afford to tuck you and your child away in a nice establishment."

"You think I want money?" she demanded in outrage.

Malfoy blinked at her in surprise, as though it was obvious. "Of course. Now-"

Ginny didn't bother to listen to the rest of what he had to say. Events of the past two days seemed to press down on her until she felt overwhelmed. She had known this wouldn't be easy, she just hadn't thought he would be as oblivious to the fact that he was going to be a father.

"I don't care, Malfoy," she said finally, cutting him off mid-sentence. "I just thought you might want to know that in nine months you will be a father. For some corrupted sense of righteousness I decided you deserved to know the truth. After this, I don't ever want to see you again. Whatever we had is over."

Walking towards the door she spared Malfoy one last glance over her shoulder. He was still standing at his desk in bewilderment, staring after her with a stunned expression.

"Goodbye Malfoy," she said, closing the door behind her firmly.

*~*

Draco swore angrily as he signed the wrong document for the fourth time in a row. Scowling, he crumbled up the now useless parchment and tossed it aimlessly towards the waste bin. Throwing his quill down with disgust, Draco glared at it accusingly as he raked a hand through his hair irritably.

He hadn't been able to concentrate at all and had been going through most of the day in a haze of unconscious thought; sign this, approve that, meet this person, cancel that appointment. Most of it hadn't required any coherent thought at all, but now that he finally had to sit down to plan out his opening speech for the public announcement of the Fringe Fund, he was forced to admit that he was more than distracted by Ginny's news. Leave it to a damned Weasley to pick the most untactful way of informing him of the unexpected surprise.

Deny it as much as he wanted, Draco couldn't get over the nagging apprehension within him that wanted confirmation. If she was pregnant it could ruin several possibilities that he had been considering for himself and his future. Frowning irritably again, Draco grabbed his wand and tapped it on the desk firmly.

"Owens," he snapped into the wand tip.

"Yes, sir?" his secretary's voice filtered in to him.

"Where the hell is Zabini?" he growled. "I sent for him over two hours ago and he isn't here yet."

"I tried to contact you earlier, sir, but your connection was blocked. He said that he would be damned if he was going to drop everything at your summons and if it was so important you could meet him at his office. His words, sir, not mine."

Draco cursed loudly at the unpredictable and more than annoying demeanor of his old Hogwarts school mate. "I won't be needing you for the rest of the evening, why don't you take off early," he informed the witch.

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy," she replied happily.

Shoving his wand into a pocket, Draco grabbed his cloak and proceeded towards the Apparating zone on the fourth floor. Many of the people he passed in the corridors nodded respectfully as they moved out of his way, each of them murmuring a "Good evening, Mister Malfoy." Despite the fact that Draco was the founder and president of one of the most competitive emerging industries in the wizarding world, it hadn't always been that way.

In the years following the war he had been forced to work hard to finance what was left of his inheritance when the Ministry had gotten finished with his father. All of his business transactions had been closely watched by the Aurors, making it difficult for Draco to even call on old alliances to get a head start on his company.

It had only been with some help from his investor, Blaise Zabini, and a secret partnership with the elder Alfonce Fringe that Draco had been able to establish a reputable industry. While at first he had dealt mainly in buying struggling businesses and breaking them up among clients for more profit, he had expanded Malfoy Enterprises to include an extensive wizarding lab for medical research, a rare magical ingredients supplier, and being the only franchise immersed in the newest market of Wizzuggle Creations; taking ideas crafted by muggles and revolutionizing them into wizarding luxuries.

The project had made him a multi-galleonaire and one of the most sought out businessmen in the wizarding world. There was little that was denied to him now that he was dominating over the marketing industry and Draco had found no difficulties in finally evading the watchful eyes of the Ministry. Now that he had his own contacts and informants to bribe, he no longer had to call on the sometimes untrustworthy favors of his deceased father's clients.

Draco Malfoy was no fool, however, and he still treads carefully with the Ministry. He knew that his taint of the Death Eaters was still unforgotten and only a testimony from the deceased Severus Snape is what kept him out of the Ministry's clutches. In fact, Draco had it on good authority that his newest recruit for a board-member assistant, Olivia Hobstockle, was an inside informant for the Aurors.

As Draco stepped onto the fourth floor he made a mental note to have somebody tag her while she was moving through the offices. It wouldn't do for her to pick up any unfortunate information.

"Leaving for the evening, Mister Malfoy?" one of the security guards asked casually.

He merely nodded to the burly man before cutting in front of the line of people waiting to Apparate. Ignoring their disgruntled looks he stepped forward and Apparated from sight.

"Welcome to Golden Vault Investors, please see the receptionist for further directions as to which branch would best suit you. Don't forget to ask about our new galleonaire investment plan at the front for your chance to win a full-paid trip to Italy... Have a great day!"

Ignoring the welcoming apparition that was currently chanting away above the heads of busy wizards and witches, Draco made his way past the reception desk and towards the lifts. The ride to the top floor had been agonizing as he was forced to suffer through the dumb questions of a lost couple with their crying toddler and an aged grandmother who kept declaring that Gringotts had robbed her of a whopping two galleons.

Draco was tempted to give her two galleons just to shut her up, but when the idea had finally occurred to him the grandmother had hobbled off on the fifth floor, waving her ticket angrily at a very overwhelmed looking spectacled witch. When he finally arrived on the top floor, he was even more annoyed than before and strode up to the familiar looking secretary angrily.

"Is Zabini in?" he demanded impatiently.

"Yes, Mister Malfoy," she answered, "but he is very busy at the moment..."

Ignoring her, Draco strode down the short corridor to the closed office door. "Zabini!" he called, pounding on the door before opening it without preamble. "What the hell have you been -" Freezing in the doorway at the scene before him, Draco said, "Oh, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something?"

He smirked as he leaned casually against the doorframe, crossing his arms nonchalantly over his chest. Zabini straightened from his desk furiously as the witch that had been laying back on the cleared desktop hastily got up; her pretty face flushed and long brown hair messed.

"Hello, Daphne," Draco drawled in a deep voice, "great to see you again. I see that you are still performing your wifely duties to satisfaction."

Twitching her robes back into place, the brunette threw Draco a heated glare. "Yes, well I see that you are still totally lacking in manners, Draco." Tossing back her hair, she demanded, "Didn't you ever hear of knocking?"

Strolling into the room, he replied, "I did, and you just obviously didn't hear me."

He raised a brow suggestively causing her to scowl. Throughout their school days Daphne had been the only one in Slytherin House that had not fallen for Draco's charms. In fact, the brunette had been more prone to fighting heatedly with him other than simpering flirtatiously.

It was an interaction that continued as they matured and moved off into the world, coming into contact only during the most direst of situations with their inner circle of Death Eaters. Draco expressively remembered a particular battle in which Daphne had blindly led them into an Auror ambush. It had only been his quick thinking that saved them and it was a debt that he knew the witch loathed. To owe a wizard's debt to the one person she despised so openly.

"Is there something I can help you with, Draco?" Zabini intercepted diplomatically, giving his wife an unreadable look.

Turning to the wizard, Draco became serious once more. "Yes, actually. I owled you over two hours ago and judging by your current wardrobe, you haven't been occupied with your wife during that entire lapse of time."

Frowning, Blaise replied, "I also have a business to run. I can't just drop everything for you. You aren't my only client-"

"Just your most expensive one," Draco cut him off, moving towards a small table to poor himself a glass of whiskey from the decanter. "And this actually has nothing to do with Malfoy Enterprises. A problem has occurred with my coronation."

He turned around to find Zabini eyeing him in surprise. Daphne simply looked between the two of them, lips pursed in speculation.

"What sort of problem," his friend asked warily, hazel eyes guarded.

"Nothing that we need to worry your pretty little wife over," Draco answered, taking a sip of the strong whiskey.

He watched over the rim of his glass as Zabini exchanged a meaningful glance with Daphne, who made a disgusted face. Giving Draco another contemptuous glare she leaned down to give her husband a deep and absurdly exaggerated goodbye kiss, before sauntering out of the room. Draco raised his glass in salute as she passed and she slammed the door behind her angrily.

"You shouldn't bate her so much," Blaise replied, eyeing the blonde thoughtfully. "You know that the debt wears on her."

"It's no secret that we are not friends," Draco pointed out, dropping into a seat. "I can't help it if saving her life makes her dislike me even more."

He was fully aware of the fact that Blaise knew him well enough to know that he would never waste a wizard's debt; they came by too infrequently and were entirely useful.

Standing to refill his own glass, the wizard changed tactics. "I trust that there is a reason why you didn't want Daphne here."

Draco laughed bitterly. "You know better than I do that your wife tells her friends everything, which just happen to include my fiancée."

Gazing at him from the corner of his eye, Zabini swirled his whiskey around. "So this has to do with Pansy?"

"Sort of," Draco muttered, scowling.

Blaise returned to his seat with a raised brow. He cast a silencing charm over the room as well as a locking spell with a significant glance at Draco who smirked in reply, before asking, "So what's the problem?"

Draco took another long draught of the whiskey. "What isn't the problem?" At the other wizard's frown he sighed and said, "There's been... a mistress."

"So?" Zabini shrugged impassively. "You aren't in the wrong. Pansy has been raised for a good marriage, she understands the privileges-"

"She's pregnant," Draco interrupted.

The other man froze in surprise, his eyes widening. "Who? Pansy?"

"No, the other one." Draco scowled at him. Draining what remained in the glass he summoned the decanter to him for another one.

Zabini stared at him speechlessly, before swearing violently. "Salazar, Malfoy! How could this happen?"

Draco shrugged. "Apparently, I didn't notice that she hadn't taken her potion one night."

Zabini watched him closely and Draco finally added, "I also obliviated her once without knowing she... hadn't taken... well you get the picture!"

"This isn't good, Draco," he said, loosening his tie nervously.

"You think I don't know that!" Draco retorted. "But it can be fixed. All she has to do is get rid of-"

"No," Zabini insisted, "the spell won't work correctly that way. They require that it be the first born. Even if she lost it or got rid of it, there would never be another chance for the coronation."

Draco paled at Zabini's words. He had always known the dangers of getting involved with the secret society that was currently the most powerful dark magic organization in the wizarding world. They were impossible to find unless invited and the Unspeakables had been attempting to pinpoint the exact leaders for decades. Rumors speculated that the cult was an older society that had remained true to the teachings of Grindelwald and had sacred knowledge of the Chronicles of Merlin; a priceless spellbook that wizarding historians had been attempting to locate for years.

The secret society was most commonly known as The Guild and lead by a ruthless group of wizards called Adepts, who were supposedly direct descendents of Merlin. Draco's only contact into the society had been through his old mentor Severus Snape, who had shockingly enough been one of the Guild's most active members. It had been his confession alone that allowed Draco the Guild's aide in clearing his charges after the war.

The expected requirements for their involvement had been for Draco to join their numbers after a prolonged approval for acceptance. The Guild viewed it as his debt owed to them for keeping him out of the Ministry's clutches. Rules for admittance were strict, however, and demanded for the indirect blood of all members' blood for secrecy assurances. In other words, Draco had to come up with an heir very soon. He didn't even dare contemplate the repercussions if he wasn't able to supply them with their request.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, running a shaking hand through his hair. "Where does this put me? Should I let her go ahead and have the baby then?"

"I'm not sure," Zabini admitted, sinking back in his chair with a doomed expression. "There are restrictions for that as well. You'll have to marry her."

"How the hell can I do that, when I am supposed to be marrying Pansy!" he shouted, waving his glass precariously so that the whiskey lapped over onto his hand.

Zabini remained unyielding. "You'll have to do it anyway. Pansy will understand."

Draco gave him a skeptical look. Frowning, the wizard amended, "Eventually. She knows what kind of shit you would be messing with if you didn't marry the whore."

He jerked up abruptly, looking at the blonde with a scandalized expression. "She's a pureblood, right? You haven't been -"

"Of course she's pureblood!" Draco snapped with disgust. "It's just that she," he paused, looking around him with bewilderment, "they would never approve of her."

Zabini frowned in confusion. "Why not? You just said she's a pureblood."

"She's an Auror," he explained hurriedly. He took another calming sip of the fiery liquid as Zabini stared at him incredulously.

"Who is she?" he demanded harshly.

Feeling unsettled, Draco moved to pace the length of the office. Zabini's eyes remained riveted upon him, his body tense with wariness.

"Well?" he prodded.

Glaring at him, the blonde answered, "Ginny Weasley."

His comrade swore in an extravagant string of Italian words. "What the in the name of Grindelwald were you thinking, Malfoy!" he yelled. "Do you want to bring the whole International Confederation down on us? The Adepts are just going to be dying to get their hands on you!"

Wincing at the mention of the Guild leaders, Draco continued to pace. "It wasn't supposed to turn into anything," he insisted. "I thought that possibly...."

Throwing himself into the chair again he rubbed his head tiredly. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"Obviously you weren't thinking at all!" Zabini snapped, glaring at him. "This jeopardizes your entire position and reflects back on me as well!"

"For some reason your optimism just isn't helping," Draco replied scathingly, sneering at the wizard.

Zabini didn't reply and turned away to glower into the fire blazing in a nearby hearth. Draco allowed him to think as he tried to sort through his own alternatives. There was no way that he would be able to fulfill the Guild's requirements without his first born child. It had been the sole reason for his engagement to Pansy. He had been friends with her since childhood and she was the only witch he had deemed appropriate for his wealth and political alliances.

Despite that there were no specific requirements for who the wives should be; it was common knowledge that the Guild liked the witches to be women who were under the control of their husbands and of pure lineage. It was important that they be women who were capable of loyalty and had political advantages. There was no reasonable way that the Adepts would allow for an unobedient Auror into their ranks. It was a death wish waiting to happen.

He looked up as Zabini released a sigh. "It could be worse," he finally said.

Draco raised a brow. "Oh... how so?"

Leaning against his desk with a smug smirk, Blaise answered, "The universal rule for all investors is that there is always a hidden value somewhere. "Firstly," he held up a finger, "she's a pureblood, which mercifully works in our favor. Secondly, she could possibly be convinced to release information from inside the Auror department, making her a good contact. And thirdly, she defeated and killed Bellatrix Lestrange in an uninterrupted duel."

"I should think that those last two would hurt our chances significantly," Draco commented.

Blaise's smirk deepened, catching Draco's interest. He only wore that face when he was up to his most brilliant scheming.

"Actually," he admitted, "the Guild likes to have control of their members. Bellatrix was anything but controllable and only listened to the Dark Lord. They hated that more than anything. However, they were incapable of doing anything at the time; the Dark Lord had gained too much power. He also happened to take two of their most valued members with him when he broke away from Grindelwald and then later killed them."

"So her killing Lestrange can benefit us how?" Draco asked, frowning.

"She's already proved that she is a worthy alliance in dark magic; a trait much admired in the Guild. She can also be valuable to them as a potential contact."

Draco mulled over the idea silently, before pointing out the obvious. "She'll never agree to it."

Zabini shrugged. "That's your job. I'm only telling you that it has possibilities. How and when you make it work is your problem." He broke into an amusement grin. "You've managed to pull off much more dangerous stunts in the past. Just use your charm, you know - threats, blackmail, Imperious Curse."

Draco threw him an irritated frown, causing Zabini to chuckle, obviously pleased with his own brilliance. Ignoring him, Draco weighed out his options mentally. It was by far the best choice he had without ending up in mortal peril. Most of the authenticity would depend on his ability to get Weasley into a believable marriage situation.

"Up for another glass?" Zabini inquired, breaking his thoughts.

Standing, Draco shook his head. "I think I've detained you from your wife long enough. I'm going to start taking care of some arrangements."

As he moved towards the door, Zabini called out, "I'll send your office the bill, then."

Looking over his shoulder, Draco watched the wizard refill his glass happily, the decanter now significantly lighter. "Bill?" he asked.

"You didn't think I would let my best client get away without a consultation bill?" Zabini asked in mock horror, a smile tugging at his lips.

Frowning, Draco replied, "Consultation bills now? Your getting more extravagant, Zabini."

His partner's response was to simple raise his glass in salute. "All thanks to you mate. Don't worry, you can afford it and you owe me."

The comment could have been brushed off as a joke if Draco had not read the suddenly seriousness in his eyes. Without another word, Draco strode from the office, wondering how many other debts this damned mistake of Weasley's would cost him.

*~*

Ginny sank into the chair with relief, easing out the tension in her shoulders as she relaxed into the overpadded pillows. After an exhausting day spent at her parents', the apartment looked more welcoming than ever. A crackling fire blazed in the fireplace and reflected back at her in the polished wood of her coffee table. Candles flickered from their places along the walls and helped to soothe Ginny as she thought back over the day.

After arguing with Malfoy she had headed straight for the Burrow as her mother had asked. Unlike the many years that Ginny had grown up in the cluttered household, the Burrow's emptiness was more prominent now that the children had moved away. She had found her mother in the kitchen preparing lunch when she arrived.

Mercifully, they were the only two there and finally had a very long discussion. Her mother's reaction was not anywhere near pleasant and she had been painfully determined for every accurate detail. When Molly finally discovered her daughter's true "relationship" with Harry, they had gotten into a heated argument over morals and values.

"You had to have known about it!" Ginny protested angrily. "All those wizards I kept bringing home, did you just think that they were friends? Even Dad knew about -"

"Enough!" Molly snapped angrily. "Only scarlet women do such things, Ginny!"

Her statement had been followed by a tense silence in which Ginny glared at her mother angrily; tears of frustration pouring down her face.

"It's not like that!" she insisted, humiliated by her mother's words. "It's not like I sold myself out or slept with every wizard I brought over! Harry completely understands-"

"Been leading that poor boy on," Molly declared. "That's what you've been doing. The poor dear, no wonder he hasn't proposed before now! I couldn't imagine what would stop him, but this certainly-"

"Wouldn't that just be perfect for you!" her daughter snarled, wiping the tears from her cheeks vehemently. "Harry didn't propose to me because he obviously understands me better than my own mother!"

She had been ashamed of the outburst as Molly's eyes brimmed, but her mother had hurt her just as much with her own proclamation. They sat there for several minutes until Ginny sagged tiredly in her chair, "Mum..."

"No, Ginny," Molly let out a shuddering sigh, "you're right. If I knew you better I would have known before this that you... that you were..."

"It's alright," Ginny mumbled, shrugging off the apology uncomfortably.

"It's just that this was all so unexpected!" Molly insisted. "I had no idea that you were unhappy."

Ginny thought back to her last conversation with Hermione, dourly thinking that unhappiness was the least of her problems now. As much as she had complained about her old life, a short two days ago she had been worriless. She was just a single twenty-four year old who was having a good time, despite her loathing of the "perfect" life. Her newest future suddenly looked bleak indeed as she tried to determine what she would do when she had a kid attached to her.

The irony of the situation could not be more blatant, she thought cynically.

When Molly had discovered who the father was she had been just as adamantly disapproving. Even without Harry and Ron's school day rantings, she had known of Draco through the Order of the Phoenix and the numerous difficulties Arthur had suffered from at the hands of Lucius Malfoy.

"Ginny, how could you?" she accused. "You're an Auror! You know everything that happened with his father during the war."

Shifting uncomfortably, Ginny replied, "He was never proven guilty, Mum. Not even the Unspeakables had any real evidence against him, much less the Aurors."

Sniffing with disapproval, Molly said, "Well he might as well have been with all the suspicion that was thrown his way. How he got off is still an amazement to me-"

"Professor Snape testified for him before his death," her daughter stated quietly. "If anything that should mean something."

"Yes," Molly answered stiffly. "But Merlin knows we'll never know why. At least Severus had the Order as validation for himself. But even Dumbledore seemed suspicious about the testimony, which makes me suspicious. And you should be too Ginny..."

Rubbing her aching temple Ginny decided that it had been way too long since lunch. Even though an increasing appetite hadn't kicked in from the pregnancy yet, she assumed that it wouldn't be a good idea to skip meals.

Moving into the kitchen she flicked her wand absently, conjuring up some food from a cupboard. It had been a relief when her mother had offered to break the news of Malfoy to the rest of the family. Ginny didn't even want to contemplate her brothers' reactions and hoped that by the next time she saw them they would be calm enough to be capable of speech.

The growl of her stomach made her realize that her soup had finished cooking itself and now sat prepared in a bowl, complete with tea and crackers. Carrying it into the living room, Ginny set it down and ate as she looked through a thick book she had grabbed from her office. She was determined to find away of unblocking her obliviation and if there was any way to do this it would be in the vast library the Aurors were supplied at their training center.

It was much later in the evening when she had finished her dinner and was curled comfortably in her chair. She jerked up with surprise when a firm knock resounded through the quiet. Staring around the dim room, she realized that she must have dozed off. Standing, she twirled her wand at the fire in passing and it roared back to life with vigor.

Opening the door curiously, she gaped at the wizard that stood before her impatiently.

Malfoy stared back at her imperiously before finally saying, "If we are going to do this we are going to use one of my spells." He held up a thick book that he had been carrying under one arm. "Not one of those cheap, household charms. This is a hundred percent accurate."

It took a minute for his meaning to sink in and when it did Ginny quirked a brow at him. "I thought you said that it wasn't yours," she stated, resting a hand on her hip.

Looking down the empty corridor irritably, as if someone might possibly overhear them, he snapped, "Can't we discuss this in there?"

Smirking at his obvious discomfort, Ginny walked back into her apartment, calling over her shoulder snidely, "By all means, Malfoy, do come in."

He cursed behind her, stepping inside to slam the door shut and stride into the room, eyes quickly assessing the room to rest on the open book.

"Light reading?" he asked, flipping it over to read the cover. Ginny watched expectantly as his eyes widened with surprise.

"Just looking up a few details for anti-obliviation," she answered with an innocent smile.

Ignoring his glare, she sat on the couch and crossed her legs comfortably. "Let's go ahead and get this over with," she said impatiently.

Seating himself next to her, he opened the book to a marked page. "This is the best one that I could find for paternity and it is probably better than anything you could have had." He gave the room a derisive sneer for emphasis.

Shooting him a perplexed frown, Ginny leaned over to read the complex instructions.

"Should we use your wand or mine?" she wondered absently, tucking a strand of hair behind one ear.

Making a face, he growled, "Yours."

Smirking, Ginny took out her wand and hurriedly memorized the words for the spell. When she turned towards Malfoy, she realized that he was sitting very near her. So near that she could smell the cologne he used and felt his breath moving the hair around her face. She frowned as she caught the scent of alcohol on him.

"Have you been drinking?" she asked sternly, meeting his eyes.

"What does it matter?" he declared, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Don't worry Weaslette, I'm not drunk and will unfortunately remember this perfectly."

When Ginny still hesitated he snarled, "Suddenly so unsure? Just how many wizards have you been sleeping with?"

Pointing her wand at him defiantly, Ginny got some satisfaction out of the fact that he noticeably tensed. Fighting down the strong sensation to hex him, she whispered the incantation to start the paternity spell.

A small wisp of blue smoke shot out of her wand and drifted into Malfoy's chest. His face tightened at the contact and he clenched his jaw as the smoke disappeared inside of him. Hurriedly pointing her wand at herself, Ginny completed the spell with a second incantation and a jet of red smoke drifted towards her.

She gasped as a twinge of pain, accompanied by a blast of icy cold penetration seemed to squirm deeper into her until it bedded down in the center of her belly. Seconds of nothing passed by until she felt the spell inside of her gradual get warmer as it moved. By the time it had finally emerged from her belly it was so hot that Ginny cried out in alarm as it hovered in the air between her and Malfoy.

Malfoy's blue smoke was already waiting there and when they mingled they mixed into a glowing purple globe of smoke. It flared brighting for a second before transforming into a shimmering gold. Looking down at the book expectantly, Ginny read the result she had known would be there. There was now no denying that Malfoy was the father of her child.

Still gasping for breath from the spell, Ginny wiped her sweating brow off, pushing away the clinging hairs that rested there before looking at Malfoy.

He was also breathing heavily as he stared at the book with an expressionless, tight lipped face. Eventually he reached out a shaking hand to snap the book shut.

A tense silence settled between them, in which Malfoy refused to look at Ginny. Uncomfortably, Ginny touched her hand briefly to where the spell had emerged. The sensation hadn't been pleasant. Her action broke Malfoy out of his stupor and he met her eyes briefly before turning away.

"It appears that I was mistaken." His deep voice resonated in the silence that had elapsed.

"So it would seem," Ginny replied, scathingly. "Despite the fact that I have been telling you the truth all along."

Tensing at her anger, he turned towards her with a sneer. "How was I to know that Weasley fertility would eventually prevail?" he demanded. "But then I suppose that was the whole goal since day one. Get landed with my baby so you could reap the rewards!"

"As if I would want a child from you," she retorted. "And may I remind you that you were the one who couldn't seem to get enough of me! If you hadn't obliviated me-"

"Don't flatter yourself Weasley," he cut her off, standing to run his eyes over her with loathing. "All anyone has to do is take one look at you to know that you are a girl who gets around. And I wouldn't have had to obliviate you if you weren't being so damn stubborn."

"I wanted you to go back to your fiancée!" she yelled, standing up to meet his heated gaze. "Is that a crime? If you had just taken my advice none of this would have happened. Did you really think I planned for this?"

"Well I certainly didn't," he insisted, moving to pace the room.

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you obliviated me," Ginny replied, watching him warily.

In the short amount of time she had spent with him she had never known him to be the sort to openly express emotion. As if aware of her thoughts, he stopped abruptly with a frown etched across his face.

"Why are you here, Malfoy?" Ginny wondered, finally voicing the thought that had been bothering her.

He looked at her silently for a moment, his face unreadable. It was then that Ginny first noticed that he wasn't as composed as he usually was when dealing with her. He was normally very cool and distant, only indulging in the rare emotion to taunt her with an arrogant smirk.

The Draco Malfoy that stood before her now also wasn't the immaculate handsome wizard she was accustomed to. His hair was messed on one side as if he had been running his hands through it nervously, and he had already admitted to drinking prior to coming here.

He finally sighed, shrugging helplessly. "I don't know," he answered quietly.

Ginny bit her lip in confusion, shifting awkwardly as they stared at one another. She already felt so tired from her previous discussion with her mother; she didn't think she could deal with this right now. Sinking back onto the couch wearily, she rubbed stubbornly at the pressure throbbing in her head.

"I already told you that I didn't want anything," she reassured him.

She didn't look up as she heard him move closer. "Are you saying that you don't want me to have anything to do with the baby?"

Surprised, Ginny jerked her head up to stare at him in confusion, brow raised. "Are you saying that you want something to do with it?" she inquired. .

He was standing before her and from her perspective she could read the uncertainty in his eyes. "I... I-I need some time," he answered hesitantly. "This is... different for me."

Ginny snorted disdainfully at his words, causing him to frown down at her. "I don't see what else you can do besides what you have already done," she retorted.

Sensing his anger, she raised a hand to thwart his words. "Go home, Malfoy."

He paused in disbelief. "What?"

"Go home!" she repeated more firmly. "There is no need for you to worry over me when Parkinson is waiting for you."

"But-" he protested before trailing off awkwardly.

Leaning back to rest her head, Ginny closed her eyes tiredly. "I want to be alone right now," she explained. "There is no need for you to feel obligated to pay me off into silence or even give fake promises of support for the child."

When she didn't hear him move she opened her eyes to find him staring at her. Noticing her scrutiny, he immediately turned away to retrieve his book before hesitating once more.

"This baby is mine," he said firmly, staring down at her sternly.

Faintly amused at the statement, Ginny smiled slightly. "Really? I had no idea," she replied sarcastically.

Bending down until their faces were almost touching, he captured her eyes with his own. "I'm serious," he insisted.

Ginny pulled back to study him in bemusement. "You can't have both Draco," she stated. "The wife or the mistress? You eventually have to choose and I've already made the decision for you-"

He cut her off with his lips on her own, shockingly gentle in a way she had not experienced them. The kiss wasn't intruding, demanding, or aggressive, but merely a rare expression of tenderness.

Breaking off the kiss, he met her eyes challengingly. "I'll be back," he informed her.

She smiled at him mysteriously, understanding the underlying meanings in the kiss even if he didn't. Ginny had received similar kisses before, the kind that signaled the end of a relationship.

"No you won't," she whispered, tracing a finger down his face.

Draco tensed at the caress and Ginny was just as shocked at the instinctive impulse. It was strange that in all their time together the only moment they could be civil and tender with each other was when breaking up. There had never been any sweet kisses or natural caresses in their love-making. Most of it had been to fulfill a primary need to experience the exhilaration of the forbidden. For that was what their relationship had been... forbidden.

Moving away from her, Draco stepped back to Apparate and in the time it took Ginny to blink he was gone. It wasn't until after he had left that she realized she had been holding her entire body in a tension that was making her muscles scream for release. Consciously relaxing, she stretched out her abused limbs before making her way to the bedroom. She suspected that she wouldn't be hearing from Draco Malfoy for a long time to come.

*~*

"My master is not home yet."

Pansy Parkinson stared down at the house elf with contempt. She hated the horribly ugly little creatures and instantly made a resolution to get rid of the annoying things when she became the lady of Malfoy Manor. Besides, servants looked so much more sophisticated than groveling varmints.

"It doesn't matter," she informed the elf breezily, brushing past him into the entrance hall. "I'll just go ahead and make myself comfortable."

She instantly set out for Draco's chambers, moving past the expensive furnishings and ancestral paintings with an ignorance that came from experience in matters of luxury. Finally reaching the north wing of the large estate, she entered the familiar room.

The large bedroom was furnished in dark and intricately carved cherry wood, with a green undertone to the room that brought to mind the comforting memories of the Slytherin dormitories. The room was indeed very masculine and had been prepared with Draco's delicate taste to detail.

The painting above the marble mantel had been a renaissance piece of Malfoy Manor over two hundred years ago. The curtains that framed the window where brought over directly from Paris for that subtle shade of green that Draco liked so much.

Noticing that the meticulous house elfs had already planned for Draco's arrival, Pansy moved towards the sofa by the fire to pour herself a glass of wine. Taking a sip she savored the rich flavor.... dragon wine. She smiled in pleasure at her fiancée's magnificent tastes. Surveying the room again she noted that the enormous four poster bed had been turned down with a black robe handing nearby. Next to the bottle of wine she had just poured lay a carefully arranged tray of refreshments.

Seating herself comfortably, Pansy sampled some of the food. She hadn't really expected Draco to be back from his gallivanting yet. After all, she had told him that she would be at mother's all night, knowing perfectly well that he would take the time to visit whichever mistress he was currently indulging in.

Having grown up with Draco since childhood and dated on and off throughout Hogwarts, Pansy was accustomed to his unsatiable appetite for more. Being spoilt as a child he had been raised with the belief that there was nothing that should be denied a man as far as sexual pleasure was concerned. Pansy had also been raised since childhood in the necessities of knowing how to perform her wifely duties and what to expect from her husband.

The fact that he had a mistress did not bother her, for the simple reason that she was the one wearing a ring. What irked her was that he had been with the same woman for longer than any other mistress. Pansy had been well aware of the instant there was someone else. It had showed in the usual signs with Draco getting home later, or becoming more preoccupied and moody. He even acted differently in bed and she could have sworn that one time he almost said someone else's name.

The incident had quickly been amended with a large shopping spree to Diagon Alley and Pansy had pretended she hadn't known that he was lavishing out the money to get her mind off the previous night. She was concerned about this other woman, however. The slut had kept Draco's interests for far too long. While Pansy might not know who it was, it wasn't difficult to discover that it was still the same woman.

Whenever she would drop in on Draco unexpectedly he always smelled of the same woman. Not that she was going to pretend to hold any feelings for her fiancée'. He was her best friend, confidant and lover; they understood each other in ways that two people in love can't.

Neither of them fooled themselves into thinking they were in love. Love was for idiots who eventually discovered that it only blinded you to the obvious. Draco and Pansy had consented to the overall fact that they would eventually marry due to political standings that would improve both of their situations.

Her musings abruptly ceased as the door opened and Draco strolled in elegantly, brow quirking as he noticed her lounging near the fire.

"This is a surprise," he drawled, although his lack of reaction told her that the house elf had informed him of her presence.

Reaching her, he leaned down to kiss her in greeting, his tongue flicking out to savor the taste of wine on her lips. As he shifted to sit beside her, Pansy smelt the familiar, yet foreign perfume on him and gave him a perplexed frown.

"I have something I want to discuss with you," she told him briskly.

He remained unperturbed and fiddled with a stray strand of her hair absently. "Oh, what?"

Slapping away his hand irritably, she met his eyes and said firmly, "I want you to break it off."

She had to admire his composure as he stared at her blankly. Anyone who hadn't known him for almost his entire life wouldn't have noticed the hardening of his eyes, or the tension of his jaw that signaled he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Break what off?" he asked innocently.

Crossing her arms defiantly, Pansy stared him down with her best no nonsense look. "Come off it, Draco. I know that you've been having an affair for a while now and I think you should break it off before anything serious happens."

She was surprised when he suddenly threw back his head and laughed.

"You are much smarter than I ever give you credit for," he complimented her with a bitter smile once his laughter had abated.

Instead of smiling with him, Pansy sensed that something was wrong and her brow creased with concern. "Are you okay?" she asked, leaning forward to reach out a hand to Draco.

He pushed away impatiently and distanced himself from her by standing up to pace the room. In their life long history together there had never been anything that Draco kept from her or her from him. The sudden realization that he was hiding something made her eyes narrow dangerously.

"What is it?" she demanded. "What aren't you telling me?"

Glancing at her briefly, Draco replied, "I can't break it off, Pansy."

Pansy stared at him in disbelief, feeling as if her world had suddenly shifted around her. She dropped her glass unconsciously and the remaining wine splattered across the carpet, its stain enhanced by the flickering light of the fire.

"What are you saying?" she whispered, unaware of the blood draining from her face.

Dropping to his knees before her, Draco rested his hands on her own shaking ones. "I'm saying that I can not break off the affair," he explained, watching her with concern.

Frantically searching his eyes for some other explanation, Pansy stammered, "I-I-I don't understand... I mean... they... what are you saying exactly?"

She watched as Draco sighed sadly, his eyes expressing his regret. "I can't marry you Pansy. There has been a complication..."

"Time adds complications," she murmured, still stunned at his announcement. "You should have broken it off a long time ago... but complications -" her eyes widened as she interpreted his words, "- she's pregnant?"

Pansy didn't want to read the confirmation in his eyes, but was unable to look away from their stormy depths.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pulling her closer as she began to tremble.

Allowing him to wrap her arms around her protectively, Pansy asked, "But what about the Adepts? What are we going to do?"

"I'm going to take care of it," Draco told her, his voice echoing in his chest beneath her ear. "No harm will come to you. I'll make sure that you stay out of it."

Pansy smiled to herself sadly. "You'll make it right by marrying your whore?"

He stopped his gentle rocking of her and she could feel the tension in his arms around her. Pulling back from their embrace, Pansy stared into his hard face with speculation. "I know that you didn't plan this," she said slowly, "and I don't hate you... not really."

She gave him a wavering smile that he returned. "It's just... a surprise." Brushing away a strand of hair that was lurking before his eyes she added, "I always assumed that we would be together..."

"We were only getting married for the alliance," he pointed out.

Sighing, Pansy leaned back. "I suppose so; it only made sense because we had been friends for so long." She bit her lip worriedly; thinking over her options as far as the cult was concerned.

Reading her expression, Draco repeated, "Nothing is going to happen to you. This is my fault, they'll know that."

"Undoubtedly," she agreed, "but we are still going to have to take care of certain details. Unless you marry her they will hold you accountable for your portion of the deal."

"I know," he muttered irritably, studying the wine stain intently.

"And we are going to have to go about all this carefully," Pansy added, tapping a finger to her pursed lips, "we both have reputations to maintain. I guess we can tell the press that we realized we were marrying as friends, not lovers, and that the break off was mutual."

Looking up, Draco commented, "You are taking this rather well."

Pansy shrugged. "How else am I supposed to take it? I don't want anything to happen to you, Draco."

She reached out to caress the familiar features of his face, thinking back through all the years they had been together; ever since they were eight when he had broken her dollhouse with a practice bludger. He was her best friend and they had always been there for each other, even if it wasn't a relationship they widely broadcasted to others. Only those close to them had known of the close connection they shared.

Since that time they had helped each other through more trials than she could remember. Throughout all of sixth year she had been there for him when he was dealing with his father's imprisonment in Azkaban. She had been the only one in their house to stay at his side, when the others nervously remained detached in fear that their families would be connected to the public scandal.

It had the first time she felt she could protect him in helping to combat the ridicule he endured. For Draco had always been her protector. One of her most prominent memories of their bond had been her initiation into the Dark Lord's services shortly after seventh year. She had returned to the sanctuary of her room, pale and shaking, to discover that he was already waiting for her.

No words had been exchanged but he had rushed forward to embrace her protectively. She could still remember the sense of security she had felt in that moment. It had also unintentionally been the same night she lost her virginity. Draco had comforted her in ways they had not yet experienced in their relationship and they relied on it as their sole companionship with each other in the demanding next few years.

Their loyalty had always been unwavering to each other and was something that helped maintain constancy in their lives. He had even saved her life in the war when she had stubbornly stayed in a dangerous ambush to bring home the body of her friend, Millicent Bulstrode, who had died in the crossfire. Pansy had no doubts that she would do everything in her power to help Draco through this next trial with the formidable Guild.

Draco stirred from in front of her to sit beside her, his face dark with emotion.

"Perhaps it is for the best," she finally admitted, ridding herself of the memories with a shake of her head. "It's possible that we could have ended up hating each other in the end."

He smirked. "If I recall correctly, I remember hearing you quote that you would hate me until the day I died."

She punched him lightly on the arm. "That was because you had put coffee in place of my ink in first year, you prat."

He captured her hand easily and linked it with his own. They sat there in silence for many minutes, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

"Draco?" Pansy finally broke the silence.

"Hm?"

"If she screws this up with the Guild, I'll kill her," she stated simply, "if they don't do it first."