Sweet Bondage

Chapter 7: Introducing...Draco Jr.

Draco watched the redhead being led away and he barely resisted the urge to take her into his arms and never let go. It was better this way, he told himself.

The past five weeks had been hell on earth. Literally. He could not help but relive how it felt to hold Ginny in his arms, how right it was, and every time he did, he punished himself the only way he knew how. Fucking Pansy always left him empty inside and the feeling was so familiar and safe that for once, he felt grateful to have her in his life. He didn't need a complication of the redheaded variety and if he had only known taking her was going to disrupt his well-ordered existence, he would have put as much distance between them as was humanly possible. But he didn't know, and now he was being tortured by thoughts of her. It didn't help matters that he suddenly had a conscience to deal with as well, a very vocal conscience.

The first time that previously nonexistent part of him started to speak up and actually argue with him, he had feared he'd finally gone round the bend. After he had ascertained that he was still in full control of his mental faculties, he had tried to silence it like before. No such luck though. The blasted voice even gave itself a name; somehow, he doubted if anybody would take him seriously if he complained about Draco Junior buzzing around in his head. It was really not to be borne, especially since the blasted thing reared its ugly head at the most inopportune moment.

Like now.

You've really gone and done it this time, you've finally burned your bridges beyond repair, Draco Junior despaired. If Draco could actually see it, he'd probably be knocking its head against something solid by now.

Good, he thought, maybe then I can finally get some peace from it.

You think I'd leave you alone now that you've finally driven her away? I thought you were smarter than that? Didn't you graduate second in you class or something, or was that just a fluke?

Draco gritted his teeth when the infernal voice laughed. It was laughing! At him!

I'm so funny I could kill myself. Oh, well. She got you good, didn't she? I knew she was the one for you. So smart, so saucy, and damn hot too! Too bad you're too much of a prick to recognize a diamond even when it's being poked in your eye. Sigh. I envy the wizard who finally gets to call that one his own. She's a keeper, that one is.

Draco physically jerked in surprise when he heard that, making Pansy look at him oddly. Never in all his self-imposed distancing from the redhead did he think that she may actually find somebody else, do with that somebody else what she did with him, and the thought left him cold. Sure, before he knew she was a virgin he had assumed she'd been intimate with someone already; looking the way she did it was inconceivable that she had stayed pure that long. But when he'd been gifted with her virginity and she had more or less confessed her love for him, he had taken it for granted that love was first cousins with hate and what he did to her after taking something she could never get back, hate was too mild a word to describe how he'd feel if he'd been in her place. She'd probably jump in bed with some random wizard if only to erase the memory of his touch from her body. And for the life of him, he could not stop thinking he'd AK anybody who dared swoop in on his territory.

Someone's getting jealous, Draco Junior sing-songed merrily. And you're selling her short if you think she's as amoral as you, my boy. She would never use sex to shy away from the truth, unlike some people I know. No, she'd erase you from her memory by falling in love with somebody else. That's the most effective way of exorcising you from her life. You would have been just a distant thought to her, a vague memory insignificant enough to warrant total recall. She'll get married, have a passel of kids, and when somebody comes to her in the future and says to her 'Did you know about Draco Malfoy blah blah blah', she'll furrow that perfectly shaped brow of hers and ask 'Draco who?' Cheery thought, ain't it?

Draco was trembling with rage. He wanted to stop that voice from talking further, but after five weeks of trying, he didn't think he would ever be able to do it. He was taken aback by the viciousness beneath its dulcet tones, though; this was the first time it had purposely tried to make him bleed and he was bloody hemorrhaging from the inside! And it wasn't through saying its piece yet.

And you, Draco Malfoy, oh high and mighty prince of Slytherin, it drawled lazily, would live out your days remembering what you could have had if you hadn't foolishly thrown away your chance. How do I know this? Because I am going to make sure you never forget. I am going to enjoy reminding you of days gone by until you squirm. You think you're bad? You haven't seen what I can do yet. You think you can shut me up by screwing your brains out with that slut Parkinson? Please! You could shove your head up her cunt and I'd still be here, bidding my time until you can no longer hold your breath from the stench. Oh, woe is you, Draco Malfoy, woe is you. Who would have thought the heir to the most illustrious house of Black and Malfoy would end up alone, unloved, unappreciated, slaking his lust by fucking what basically amounted to a high-priced whore for a wife. And while the girl that got away lives out her days with a wizard who loves her, surrounded by children who adore her, you would always wonder if the child you call your own is really yours. After all, what else can you expect from the slag of Slytherin? Don't you feel just chipper for your future?

Draco was too shocked to form a coherent thought. The bleak future his conscience painted was not so far from the truth that he mentally recoiled from the horror that lay before him. He had more or less worked half-way to that end already and the future to him seemed as unstoppable as an oncoming train. He was on his way to a full-on collision course and he was no longer in control of the brakes; his demonic inner self had apparently wrenched it away from him.

That's right, just because I'm your conscience doesn't mean I should be a saint. Something saintly wouldn't last a day in your head; I barely made it through and I'm demonic as you so eloquently put it. But rest easy, my boy, the worst is yet to come and I'll be there to watch you break with bells on! Enjoy the vapid and moronic Ms. Pansy Parkinson while you can, I doubt you'll get anything but a headache and a hankering for a bottle of Ogden's finest to dull the pain of her illuminating company.

"What's a condom, Drake?"

And Einstein strikes again! Do make her stop before she hurts herself; thinking all that much just might strain what little brain cells left in that vacuum between her ears, Draco Junior crowed delightedly, making Draco want to pound his head into a brick wall until he was either too dizzy for the pain or Crucio his brain to insanity. The possibilities were endless but he had to deal with the object of his conscience's scorn before anything else.

"Do I have muggle stamped on my forehead, Pansy?" he asked wearily, wishing with all his might that he was somewhere else right now.

Pansy frowned in thought. "But what does it have to do with sex? And why would the Weaslette even know such a thing? You don't think she's giving it out to muggles, do you, because I wouldn't put it past her to do just that. People like her do."

And people like you would fuck a flobberworm if you thought it could give you a leg up in the world. How's that for stereotyping? I have several phrases for that bitch, Draco: People in glass houses, kettle - black, sticks and stones; I could go on and on, you know, my repertoire is rather vast and spot on.

Draco closed his eyes briefly in an attempt to control his rapidly diminishing calm. When he opened them again, he saw that Pansy was looking at him expectantly, probably waiting for him to say anything disparaging about Ginny.

"Don't Pansy," he warned dangerously, "don't open your mouth unless you have something worthwhile to say. I am not in the mood to listen to whatever lame comment you have. Whatever thought that comes to your head that I wouldn't want to hear, keep it there. For Merlin and Morganna's sake, just keep it there."

You certainly told her off, mate, but I don't think she quite got it.

And sure enough, Pansy looked more put out than hurt. To her way of thinking, everything she has to say Draco has to hear so it irritated her to know that he considered some of what she might say as something unimportant. He was her almost-fiancée, he should be attentive to her.

"But Draco - "

"Later. Father and mother are approaching," he said quietly, taking her elbows and turning her to face his parents.

"Draco," Lucius drawled as he stood before his only son, his wife by side. "Ms. Parkinson." He briefly acknowledged the woman clinging on his son's arms before dismissing her presence by totally ignoring her. "I see you changed your mind about tonight. Good, good. May I know why?"

"Hush, Lucius, it's enough that he's here. Hello, Pansy, it's so good to see you," Narcissa said diplomatically, moving forward to kiss the air beside her cheeks. "I hope you're enjoying yourself?"

"I was," Pansy said, obviously still in a bit of a snit, "until that female Weasley started harassing me and Draco."

Draco sent her a warning glare, which she totally ignored. She knew the Malfoy patriarch hated the Weasleys with a passion and she was hoping he would raise her complaint to the right ears, anything to stir up trouble for that muggle loving fool's hopes of becoming the next Minister of Magic. Her hopes were dashed however, when all she got from Lucius Malfoy was a frankly disinterested raising of platinum eyebrows.

"Really? I thought I saw you approach the other girl, Ms. Parkinson, not the other way around." His eyes bored into the girl's, making her shake in apprehension and fear. "Would you like to correct me on my observation?"

Draco sighed. Curse Pansy's stubbornness. She should have known that his father would not take kindly to being lied to. And since the source of the lie was Pansy, the sin was much worse in the ex-Deatheater's eyes. For some reason, Lucius seemed to dislike Pansy; no, dislike was probably too kind a word to describe his feelings towards the girl; it was almost as though he actually hated her. He had had many a conversation with his father regarding his attachment to the brunette, and on more than one occasion, he could have sworn Lucius intimated he would not be averse to the idea if he found somebody else to warm his bed. He had questioned his mother about Lucius' odd behavior, but all she could tell him was that Lucius held no fondness for Pansy, nothing new there considering it was the very reason for his inquiry after all. He had also noticed that his father had taken to locking himself in his study, staying there hours at a time and when he did come out, he always looked troubled and would give him long searching looks. If he was not positive Lucius had given up practicing the dark arts, he would have started to worry. As it was, all he could do was watch as his father grew more and more troubled and his treatment of Pansy started to border on hostility. Whatever it was that brought about his worrisome behavior, he only hoped it would not give the Ministry another reason to doubt his innocence.

"Tick, Tock, Ms. Parkinson. I'm waiting."

Pansy paled. "I - I - "

Fortunately, Pansy was given a reprieve by Narcissa Malfoy. "Don't do this now, Lucius, there is a place and time for settling this misunderstanding and this moment is not it. The Weasley couple has just arrived, together with the Harts and the Prewetts."

Narcissa said all of that between smiling lips as she watched the future Minister of Magic with his wife conversing animatedly with Augustus and Henrietta Hart, and Thomas and Elizabeth Prewett, the former Molly Prewett's eldest brother and one of the acknowledged political geniuses in Wizarding Britain. It was amusing to see how bridges were mended when reversals of fortunes were within one's grasp; the uppity Thomas Prewett would never have acknowledged his sister before the war, but now that Arthur Weasley looked to be on the verge of becoming the next Minister, his offense at daring to marry Molly without a knut to his name could now be overlooked.

Narcissa's eyes darted over to the Harts. Belonging to one of the oldest pureblooded families in the wizarding world, Narcissa was still prideful of the fact that they were nowhere as distinguished in lineage as her own, on both the Black and Malfoy genealogy. They were rich enough and therefore wielded considerable influence over the common populace, but they could never surpass the kind of dominion she and her husband exerted over a majority of the Wizarding population, rich and poor alike. It was an unspoken fact and yet still widely acknowledged.

Narcissa placed her right hand on her husband's arms and made a slight inclination of her head.

"Shouldn't it be prudent to approach the Weasleys now, my dear, before all the other stuff begins," she suggested, looking intently into Lucius' eyes to gauge his reaction. Her heart swelled when she saw only polite interest as he studied the redheaded couple.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lucius saw a tall wizard dressed in an expensive dark suit raise his glass of champagne and nod slightly at him before turning around and exiting the ballroom. Then he watched as the blond wizard Ginny Weasley had been with earlier approach the elder Weasley couple, spoke a few words to them and left just as quickly.

"Not yet, Narcissa," he answered his wife as he observed the couple make their excuses to their companions and left as well, worried expressions on their faces. "As you said, there is a place and time for everything and now is not it."

Draco also observed the abrupt departure of Ginny's parents and he could not begin to imagine what brought such worried looks on their faces. They didn't even wait to be announced to the gathering first before taking their leave. He also noted that the rest of the Weasley children didn't notice their parents had arrived and left as they were occupied conversing with friends and other guests.

"What do you suppose that's all about, Father?" Draco asked as the door closed behind the departing couple.

Before Lucius could answer, however, Pansy dug an even deeper grave for herself.

"That's what they get for wanting a socially inept wizard to be Minister of Magic; absolutely no manners."

Lucius turned hot, quelling eyes on Pansy. "And you would know all about manners, wouldn't you, Ms. Parkinson, seeing as how you've conducted yourself as befitting your status in society so well thus far."

Pansy didn't know whether to be embarrassed or flattered. Lucius was looking at her with eyes that could strike fear in the hearts of the foolishly brave and yet his words sounded complimentary enough to her.

Draco inwardly flinched. Unlike Pansy, he knew his father well, and the disgust in his voice and revulsion in his eyes could not be mistaken for anything other than what it was. Had Pansy possessed a bit more sensitivity and intellect, she would have heard the sarcasm in his words and understood that she was skating on dangerously thin ice.

Unlike her son, however, Narcissa had never before seen this side of Lucius. She prided herself on her intimate knowledge of her husband; being married for twenty years to Lucius, there were three certainties she had come to know about him: one was that purity of blood was the true measure of a witch or wizard; the second was that money was the only language worth listening to; and the third was that all Weasleys were vile, faithless blood traitors who didn't deserve to live. To hear him now almost defending the very thing that he hated the most threw all her preconceptions to the four winds. What in the name of Morganna was going on?

"Well," Narcissa said, breaking the tense air hovering over them, "it looks like there's no point for us to stay. Draco, why don't you take Pansy home; I'm sure two young people like yourselves wouldn't want to be cooped up when you could be doing something more interesting." She ignored the incredulous look her husband shot at her. "Your father and I will see you later at the Manor, I'm sure. Goodnight, my dears." She repeated the gesture of kissing the air on each side of Pansy's cheek, then laid a tender kiss on her son's forehead. Through with the requisite social niceties, she shooed them off before holding her hands out to her husband. "Shall we?"

Lucius frowned at her as he took her hand. "Did you have to give them permission to have sex?" he asked sourly, watching as his son and Pansy Parkinson disappeared amongst the crowd.

"Lucius!" Narcissa chided, slapping him playfully on the arm. "I did no such thing. Draco is just a boy, he would not do such a thing."

Platinum eyebrows threatened to shoot past scalp and lodge into the ceiling in disbelief. "Draco is a 19-year-old man, Narcissa, and if my sources haven't been slacking in their duties, I'd say he hasn't been a boy since he was fourteen, I'd even hazard a guess at thirteen. Did you honestly think he was still a virgin?"

Narcissa blushed a becoming shade of pink. Of course she believed her son to be chaste, why would she not? She was a firm believer of no sex before marriage and her son had not mentioned any intention of getting married, therefore he was not going to be having sex. Period!

"Don't be ridiculous, Lucius. Draco is a good boy, he would never succumb to temptation no matter how tempting the offer is and I will not listen to any more talk otherwise."

There was a very serious possibility that Lucius' brows would be perpetually raised, or at the very least, he would develop a permanent line across his forehead. But his wife's ignorance of their son's proclivities was just astounding.

Lucius had no illusions as to Draco's character when he had started growing up, it was blatantly clear for anybody who bothered to look. His son was just like himself at that age, cocky, arrogant, fresh and too handsome for his own good. He himself had been fourteen when he had discovered the pleasures to be had between a woman's legs; he was pretty certain Draco had been initiated at the age of thirteen by a 7th year Slytherin girl by the name of Marcy Cummings, and once he'd tried just how pleasurable the activity was, he had not been without a willing partner for any length of time from that moment on. After all, good looks and the promise of a fortune was a powerful aphrodisiac, and no ordinary witch would be able to resist. Lucius was never more thankful for the enchantments and curses that have been in effect on the Malfoy family for generations; otherwise, with his son's fondness for sex, he shuddered at the number of little Malfoys probably running amok in Wizarding Britain, and beyond, right now. No, Draco was no longer a boy, and according to the Book of Malfoys, he was soon going to have a girl and a boy.

Looking at his wife's adamant face, he decided to let the matter rest. For now. "If you say so, my dear, if you say so."

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Colin paced back and forth outside of Ginny's room, worry for his best friend making him look far older than his 18 years. He had only been back for a few minutes from the Ministry after informing Mr. and Mrs. Weasley of what happened to Ginny and he was nearly ready to start pulling out clumps of hair from his head in frustration. That damned Medi-Witch would not tell him what was wrong with his best friend seeing as he was not family. The nerve of them! They were more than willing to accept his galleons to pay for Ginny's rooms but tell him something, anything, pertaining his friend's condition and their mouths were as tight as a virgin's arse! He didn't need their 'sorry, families only' rule, damn it!

Colin's head snapped up when he heard hurried footsteps approaching him and sighed in relief when he saw that Arthur and Molly Weasley had finally arrived.

"Colin, where is she? What happened? Is she all right?" Mrs. Weasley held his arms in a vice-like grip and for once, Colin could not feel the familiar fear rising up his spine whenever he was within Ginny's mothers' vicinity.

"She's in there. The Medi-witch just left, she didn't tell me anything, only that Ginny woke up for a few minutes then passed out again. I wanted to wait up for you since she wouldn't tell me anything about what was wrong with her."

"Do you know what might have caused this? Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary from her?" Mr. Weasley asked, looking just as worried as his wife.

Colin shook his head. "Only that she has been feeling tired the past few days; other than that, no. She's been stressed out about - things, but she was slowly recovering from it. Why don't we go inside and wait for the Medi-witch to return," he said hurriedly when he saw Mrs. Weasley was about to ask him about his near slip. If Ginny found out he had inadvertently told her parents about her encounter with Draco Malfoy five weeks ago, she would skin him alive.

They filed into the sterile room, their steps controlled so as not to wake Ginny who was still out of it. Mrs. Weasley rushed immediately to her daughter's side, carefully smoothing stray hairs from her face.

"She's so pale, Arthur," she said to her husband. "What could be wrong with my baby?"

"We musn't assume anything, Molly, let's wait for the Medi-witch to return. Panicking now without all the facts won't help Ginny," Arthur said reasonably. He then conjured three cushioned chairs and offered one to his wife who drew it alongside Ginny's bed. She wasn't going to take her eyes off her daughter 'til she was sure she was going to be all right.

They stayed in that room, not talking, all their attention fixed on the seemingly fragile girl laying on the pristine white bed. The opening and closing of the doors, which marked the return of the Medi-witch brought the quiet to an end, making all three preoccupied visitors jump in surprise. As soon as Mrs. Weasley saw who had entered, she could no longer contain herself and started firing questions at the healer.

"What's wrong with my daughter? Why hasn't she woken up yet? What have you given her? Have you tried reviving her? Will she have to stay here indefinitely? Will she recover?"

The Medi-witch blinked at the short, plump witch in surprise. By the urgency in her voice, there was no question that she was indeed her patient's mother, but for the life of her she could not help but wonder how someone as exquisitely beautiful as Ginevra Weasley could come from a woman who, at best, could only be viewed as very pretty. She knew her thoughts were petty, but since she knew there was no real emergency with regards to their daughter's condition, she refused to feel guilty about her surprised, albeit honest, observation.

"Mrs. Weasley, please calm down. There's nothing wrong with your daughter," she started to say, trying to calm down the panicked woman.

Mrs. Weasley's eyes flickered down on the Medi-witches' name plate. "Healer Johnson," she said after reading the tag by her breast pocket, "if there's nothing wrong, then why hasn't she gained consciousness by now? It's not normal behavior for my daughter to faint without any apparent reason."

"I understand your concern, Mrs. Weasley, and I totally agree with you about your daughter," Healer Johnson said, nodding. "I've seen your daughter around here and she is exceptional in her skills. She's our most promising trainee even though I sense from her that her heart is not really into what she's doing. If you don't mind my saying so, that is quite an accomplishment; the healing arts is not something easy that anybody can just go into, dedication and full commitment has to be established at the onset. And yet your daughter has managed to excel at it with half a heart." She looked at the other two occupants of the room briefly, recognizing the blond right away as the one who brought Ginny in; the other could be no other than the father. There goes the mystery of the height prowess, she briefly thought when her eyes rested on the tall redheaded wizard who towered over his wife by more than a foot. "To answer the most pertinent of your questions," she continued, "she hasn't woken up yet not because she's sick, it's because she has just learned something that shocked her to unconsciousness. I'm sure it won't be long now before she comes to. In fact," she said, noting the stirring movements by the bed, "I think she's just about to rejoin us."

Ginny opened her eyes slowly, not sure why it was she felt so weighed down. For some inexplicable reason something was nagging at the back of her mind, but for the life of her she could not dredge up the energy to look into what it was just then.

"Gin?"

Ginny's eyes swivelled to the right at the sound of her name. "Mum? What are you doing here?" It was then she noticed that her father and Colin were also there, looking at her with worried eyes. "What's going on?" she asked, confused by all the attention.

"Your parents have been worried about you, Ms. Weasley. It's a good thing you've finally decided to wake up, I don't think I could've held them off for very long."

Ginny's eyes moved to her left and there was only a moments' confusion before everything that took place just a few hours before started converging in on her at once. Her eyes widened as she heard again what the healer had told her right before she fainted, the words 'you're pregnant' reverberating around her head like a rogue bludger.

Healer Johnson understood Ginny's expression right away. "Do you want me to stay while you tell them?" she asked gently, giving her an encouraging smile.

Ginny visibly gulped as she looked at her parents. How the hell do you tell your parents that their daughter had been knocked up by the world's biggest arsehole? She hated disappointing them; she had tried keeping her mistake from them but how could she do that now when there was soon going to be an undeniable physical evidence of her extreme lack of good judgment.

Shakily, she rose to a sitting position on the bed, moving backwards until her back touched the walls. She really had no other choice but to tell them; the only question that remained was how badly they would take the news of her impending parenthood?

"I think it would be best if I tell them myself," she said to the Medi-witch, "but thank you for the offer."

The healer's smile never faltered as she nodded. "You can call for me anytime if you need help. Good luck."

Ginny watched the Medi-witch leave, carefully avoiding looking at her parents and friend just yet. She didn't know where to begin her confession; at least Colin already knew half of the story, but she doubted if he'd take her current predicament with any less shock than her parents. Oh, where to begin?

"Gin, honey, what is it?" Molly Weasley's gentle voice penetrated her troubled musings. Mrs. Weasley had moved from the chair she was previously sitting and was now perched by her side, giving her hands a comforting squeeze. "Go on, you can tell us anything," she encouraged lovingly.

Ginny hung her head in shame. "I'm sorry, Mum, Dad, I never meant to hurt you. I swear I never meant for any of this to happen," she said quietly.

Molly looked at her husband, confused. Why was their daughter looking so dejected, as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders? Arthur was no better off, not understanding what Ginny was talking about.

"Ginny, luv, you could never disappoint us," Arthur said, smiling down at his daughter lovingly. "You have always made us proud and we're lucky to have you as our daughter."

Ginny couldn't help it; she burst out crying, her hands covering her face to hide her misery. What her father said only made the guilt weigh her down some more. What would they think of her now that she had given them a reason to despise her? Would they now regret having her as a daughter? Were they going to cast her out of their lives and pretend that she never existed?

Molly Weasley was shocked at her outburst and tried to comfort her, taking her into her arms and tried placating her by assuring her that everything was going to be all right.

"Whatever it is that's bothering you Gin, it can't be that bad. We'll help you deal with it, we - "

"I'm pregnant! Mum, I'm going to have a baby," she said brokenly, wrenching her hands away from her tear-streaked face. "Now can you tell me it's not that bad? Will you still help me deal with it?"

Mrs. Weasley drew back from her, not sure if she had heard her right. "What?" she asked, her voice calm and low.

Ginny looked from one shocked face to another, her tears still flowing unchecked down her face. "I know you all think I'm this good little girl who can never make a mistake, but I'm not. I'm just like the next witch who sometimes doesn't think about the consequences until they are slapped with them." She felt like her insides were shrivelling up as she looked at her parents' faces. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. You can never know how sorry I am for doing this to you," she said pleadingly, wanting very much to just wake up and be told that all of this was just a nightmare or a poorly delivered joke. But she knew she wouldn't be so lucky.

All Molly Weasley could do was stare at her daughter's contrite face, disbelief warring with despair inside of her. She could not believe that her daughter, her little girl, was not so little anymore. She wanted to take her in her arms again and assure her that everything was going to be all right but she knew it would not be true. Everything was changed now and there was no going back for Ginny.

"Gin, why didn't you make sure this wouldn't happen?" Colin spoke for the first time, his voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

"Because I didn't know it was going to happen!" she cried out. "It was only that one time, you know that! The last thing I was worried about was whether I'd get pregnant!"

Colin raked his hands through his hair in frustration. "You're a Weasley, for Merlin's sake! Even with the strongest contraception potion in the market there's still a fifty-fifty chance of your getting knocked up. Jesus H. Christ, you should have told me you weren't protected!"

If looks could kill, Colin would have dropped down dead from the intensity of Mr. Weasley's glare. "You knew about this?" he asked with barely controlled fury in his voice.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, but it wasn't my place to tell you," Colin said quietly. "When Ginny told me what happened, I was more concerned with making sure she would come out all right from it. She's my friend first, and if you feel that I've lied to you, even by way of omission, then I'm sorry."

"Dad, it's not Colin's fault," Ginny said plaintively, "don't blame him for this. I'm the one you should be angry with. Please."

Arthur Weasley took a deep breath. "Who's the father then?"

Ginny shook her head. "I can't tell you, dad, I'm sorry."

"Of course you'll tell me!" Arthur said, his voice beginning to rise. "You have to tell me so you two can get married. After I beat the crap out of him first."

"No!" Ginny said loudly. "I won't marry him! And he won't marry me! Dad, please, just let it go. I beg you." She looked at her father pleadingly, showing him how important it was that he listen to her.

Arthur Weasley's face hardened. "Nobody touches my daughter and not take responsibility for it," he said with dead finality to his voice.

Ginny turned pleadingly to her mother. "Mum, I don't want to marry him, I don't. He hates me. I won't be shackled to anybody who only feels hate everytime he looks at me."

"Gin, it's not only yourself you have to think of now, there's a baby involved," Molly said sadly. "If what you say is true and he really does hate you, then he shouldn't have touched you. He has no choice but to marry you now."

"Never!" Ginny said almost wildly. "And Lucius Malfoy would never let his precious son marry a lowly Weasley."

"You mean - "

"Yes! It was Draco! Now do you see why it's impossible for us to marry?"

Arthur's eyes gleamed in triumph. "Even better. I'm sure Lucius would be more than happy to have you as a daughter-in-law. And I won't feel too awful breaking a few of his son's bones."

Ginny was not aware how truly possible and easy it would be for her father to arrange the marriage; all she could hear was that he was forcing her to marry a man who would make her life a living hell. She knew Draco would never forgive her if he was forced to marry her, and she wouldn't be able to bear it if his hate extended to their child for the simple fact that he/she would be a part of her.

Ginny loved her father, but there was no way she could let him do that to her and her baby.

"If you persist on this, daddy, I'm going to run away," she said quietly, her eyes determined. "You will never see me or my baby again, I promise you that."

Arthur Weasley looked so furious that his wife feared for what he might do next. She loved him dearly, would do anything for him, but she knew Ginny was not one to make idle threats and if the situation wasn't diffused soon, they may very well lose their daughter.

"Arthur, I'll talk to Ginny. Please," she insisted when he was about to deny her request. "All of this is a shock, I know, but we have to respect her decision. We might not like it, but she's an adult now. I'm not saying I accept her choice," she said hurriedly, when she saw his anger was not abating, "and I'll try my best to make her see reason but I have to talk to her first. Can you give us a few minutes? Please?"

Arthur nodded stiffly and walked out of the room without once looking at his daughter.

"I'll just wait outside and give you a moment alone," Colin said quietly before also quitting the room.

Ginny sat on her bed, worrying the sheets with her restless fingers. She could not look her mother in the eye, all her former bluster evaporating as soon as they were left alone.

"Ginny, look at me," Mrs. Weasley said gently, tipping her daughter's chin to make her look up. "I'm not angry at you; Merlin knows I should be livid, but you have always been a girl after my own heart. I know there's a reason why this happened and I want you to tell me, honestly, what it is. I promise I'm not going to judge you."

Ginny's eyes glittered with tears again. She felt so undeserving and yet her mother still loved her. Would the guilt never stop?

"I've been so stupid, Mum," she began, her voice quivering. "I don't know why or how I fell in love with Draco; I just woke up one day and saw him differently. I couldn't control how I felt, I couldn't get him out of my mind. He was no help either, always picking on me and generally trying to make me feel awful. I knew there was no chance for him to feel the same way so when he graduated, I thought it was finally time for me to get over him. I had a lot of responsibilities to keep me occupied and I thought that would be enough to distract me. But it didn't work!" she said fiercely, punching the mattress furiously. "It became worse. Not seeing him left me so empty, as though a part of me had been taken away when he left. I couldn't go out with another because I knew I would only be using them to fill in that gap and that wouldn't be fair to them. The one time I did try, I hurt, physically. I don't know why. As you can imagine, that date didn't go too well, so I just stopped dating altogether."

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the wall. "Then on the night of my birthday he approached me. He was so gentle, so different from when we were in school. He told me things, things that I didn't want to believe. I tried to resist, I really did, but seeing him again was such a shock that all I could do was feel. And he made me feel so wanted, so special." She opened her eyes and stared straight at her mother's warm brown eyes. "And I was naïve enough to believe that he might feel the same way about me. I looked into his eyes and saw that he cared for me, and I was so happy." Tears started to trek uncontrollably down her flushed cheeks as she recalled how that night ended. "And then he told me after he was through with me that I - I only saw what I wanted to see, that I was a fool to have ever believed for one minute that I was anything more than a one night thing." She started to sob brokenly, burrowing into her mother's arms when she saw the older witch offer her arms to her. "I love him so much, Mum, and he looked at me with so much loathing I just wanted to shrivel up and die. He hurt me so much; why did he have to do and say the things he did if all he wanted was sex? Why did he make me feel so good, when all he really wanted to do was hurt me? Why did he have to show me a side of him that only made me love him more, when all he would make me feel afterwards was regret that I was born a Weasley?"

Molly Weasley tightened her arms around her daughter. She didn't take offense at what Ginny had just said; she could feel for herself the pain her daughter felt at such blasphemous thoughts and could understand why it ever crossed her mind in the first place.

Ginny pulled away from her mother's embrace reluctantly. "So you see, Mum, I can't marry him. I love him too much to do that to the both of us. I don't want to have a husband who will forever look at me like I was nothing more significant than muck stuck at the bottom of his shoe. I don't want him to have to suffer my company. I'd rather love him from afar, at least that way only one of us gets to be miserable." She placed shaking hands over her still flat abdomen. "And I would rather be alone and take care of my baby myself than let him grow in an environment of hate." She looked up at her mother. "This is my baby. Mine. Draco will never have to know he fathered my baby. If I have to go away to ensure that then I will."

Mrs. Weasley knew what Ginny said was not a threat but a promise, at the same time that she realized there would be no changing her mind about the marriage. What she just heard from her daughter was enough to make her understand that marriage was not the solution to their dilemma; in fact, it might prove to be the cause to all of their future problems. As a mother, she knew that having a baby was no easy task for a couple, let alone a single woman just starting to make her mark in the wizarding world. As a woman, she knew that were she in the same situation, she would probably choose as Ginny had chosen and face tomorrow as they come. But as a Prewitt, who chose to leave behind the comfort wealth had to offer in order to be with the man she loved, she understood all too well the sacrifices one has to make for the people they love and she would be behind her daughters' decision even if she had to defy her husband to do it.

"I understand, Gin," Molly said, holding on to her hands and squeezing it reassuringly. "There won't be a marriage if that's what you really want. I'll make your father understand, don't worry," she promised when she saw Ginny's eyes dart over to the door. "He'll raise hell, of course, but I won't let him force you into doing anything you don't want to do. He won't give up easily and would probably try to change your mind every chance he could get; I only ask you to listen to him. Don't lose your head. He loves you and wants only the best for you." She smiled sadly at her daughter, rubbing her hands over the back of her hands. "He just sees this situation now as a failure on his part to protect you. Sometimes he forgets that you and your brothers have all grown up and no longer need us as much as you used to."

"That's not true, Mum," Ginny protested.

"It's okay, Gin, your father and I have learned not to mind too much. Just remember to be gentle with him when you shoot his suggestion down," she said, giving Ginny a small smile. "It might help soothe his ruffled feathers a bit."

Ginny nodded. "Okay, Mum."

Mrs. Weasley eased off the bed and straightened the beddings absentmindedly. "Now you rest, I'll deal with your father. Be sure to owl me when Healer Johnson gives the ok for you to be released."

"Mum?" Ginny said, as Mrs. Weasley was preparing to leave.

"Yes, Gin?"

"Could you hold off on telling my brothers? I'd really like to be the one to break the news to them."

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Of course, Gin, don't worry. Now you sleep."

Ginny settled back on her bed as the door closed behind her mother, her mind a jumble of thoughts. When the door opened back up again, she didn't bother looking to know who it was.

"You okay?"

"Oh yes, I'm just super," she answered sarcastically, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. "I'm eighteen years old, I'm pregnant, my father is adamant I marry the baby's father, they're probably thinking I'm aggravating the cycle of the Weasley's penury, I am leading a double life as Ginevra the would-be healer and Ginevra the rich model, and for an encore, I plan to do the can-can on Draco Malfoy's wedding to Pansy 'snot-nosed' Parkinson." She turned weary eyes on Colin. "I am open to suggestions on how to fix my life, if you have any."

Colin sat on the chair Mrs. Weasley had earlier sat at. There was a contemplative look on his face. After a short while, she heard him speak.

"You could call yourself Moira Wesley, or Genevieve Wells, or Ginny Welsch, or - "

"At the risk of sounding obtuse, what the heck are you prattling on about?" Ginny interrupted, confused.

Colin shrugged. "There's nothing we can do about the rest of your problems, but we can come up with a stage name for you." He smiled at her exasperated face. "What? I wasn't exactly known for my problem-solving skills you know."

Ginny snorted. "Apparently."

"And besides," Colin continued, "I know you'll bounce back from this. I know you. You always manage to land on your feet, like a damn cat with well-manicured claws."

"Yeah well, what's happening now is a lot different to what I usually have to face before. I don't think there's room for me to experiment on." Her voice turned down a notch as she turned on her side to face her friend. "There's only one thing I'm sure of Colin."

"And what's that?"

"I'm going to be a Mum."