Know That I Can't

Know That I Can't

By Michelle Malfoy

Chapter Two

I shuddered as Angel walked in. Angel, with her scarlet hair parted to the side, her silver eyes trusting and loving. She was slender, in that way resembling both of her parents, and had an air of importance. She- - Ginny - would have hated that, but that's what happens when you leave a baby to be brought up by Draco Malfoy. Anyway, Angel is just what her name declares - an Angel. She's never rude, or anything like that.

"Hi, Daddy," she greeted me. She doesn't know what happened to her mother. She knows that I'm afraid of lions, for some reason, and that they make me cry. She knows that I don't like it when she wears the colors red and gold together. She's used to my weirdnesses, but never complains about them, and never mentions them.

"Hi, sweetheart," I replied. I cleared off my journals, pushed them into my desk, and brushed off my designer robes before patting my lap in indication for her to sit there.

"Daddy," she began, "when do I start school again?"

"September first, honey," I reminded her.

"That's in two weeks!"

"Yes, it is," I agreed.

"Shall we go to Diagon Alley today?"

"Ah... all right," I sighed, and lifted her off of my lap. "Meet me downstairs in twenty minutes, okay?" She nodded and rushed off, obviously to get dressed nicely. Angel loves dressing up.

Not for the first time, I wondered what House she would be in? Gryffindor... or Slytherin? Or perhaps neither. She's clever, I reminded myself. Perhaps she'll be in Ravenclaw. But as for Hufflepuff, I stuck to my opinion of nineteen years - No way! She can't possibly be in Hufflepuff - no matter who her mother is, she's a Malfoy. But, an annoying voice in my head reminded me, all Weasleys are in Gryffindor. And all Malfoys are in Slytherin. An unwritten, constantly spoken rule.

Twenty minutes raced by, and I soon found myself and Angel in the Entrance Hall of Malfoy Manor. I lifted her up easily, walked into the fireplace, and called, "Knockturn Alley." Hell, I hated that place more than any other place in the world, but I wanted to bring her in through there so that I wouldn't run into anyone at the Leaky Cauldron. I knew that my father went there sometimes, and didn't want to take the risk of meeting him. I can imagine that he wouldn't be too fond of Angel.

"Daddy, why are we going here?" Angel sputtered, dusting her robes off, as we landed in Borgin and Burkes'.

"I misspoke," I assured her. "Come on, let's get to Diagon Alley, quick." She hooked her arm onto mine, and we hurried out of the shop, through the narrow path, and quickly into Diagon Alley.

"This is more like it," she exclaimed, awed as we entered Diagon Alley. She had never been there before, not since she was a baby and I had purchased her first wand, but she certainly knew about the place. Even if I hadn't told her about her mother, grandfather, and grandmother (I told her she didn't have any family besides me), I saw no harm in telling her about this cute little alleyway.

"Wow... Quality Quidditch Supplies, Gringotts, ooh, Ollivanders, Madam Malkins... wow, Daddy, this is amazing!"

Not knowing what else to do, I patted her head. "I'm glad you like it," I told her. "Now, would you mind shopping by yourself while I sit here... and think?" She nodded excitedly and skipped off to Gringotts as I sat down on a bench near Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor and thought. About Ginny, who else? And I thought about what happened when I lied to her, convinced her that she loved me.

She shuddered when she looked at me after that... incident. I knew she hated me far more than she had before that. I loved her, I knew I did, and I didn't want her to hate me. I could Memory Charm her. That seemed like the most logical idea, but it somehow didn't seem fair to do to her. And yet... what if she would hate me forever if I didn't Obliviate her? So I carefully turned to her and hissed, "Obliviate!"

She turned towards me, a dreamy look in her eyes that I found myself lost in. "Do I know you?" she asked.

"Yes," I said truthfully. Then I added, "Someone hit you with a Memory Charm, Ginny! I was so worried!"

"How do I know you?" she asked suspiciously,

"I'm your boyfriend, of course," I lied.

"You are?" she asked, and I kissed her. "Oh."

And that was it. Ginny and I then built a friendship, although since she thought that we were boyfriend and girlfriend, it was much more difficult for me. I don't know why my Memory Charm convieniently erased only her memories of me, and not anything else. Maybe it hadn't worked at all, and she was only putting on a façade to trick me, to deepen my love for her. I worked hard, extremely hard, and eventually, about a year or two later, it seemed that she loved me nearly as much as I loved her, for she allowed Angel to be formed.

One day I remember my owl pecking me half to death, a piece of parchment closed with the Malfoy family seal. I opened it hastily and read:

Draco -

Your so-called 'beloved' is with us at Malfoy Manor. If you ever wish to see her again, you must come and rescue her, or Father will most definetly kill her. I am only sending this as a warning to you. Father does not know about this, so please think of an excuse to prove how you know about her being there.

-Michelle

I was on vacation in Belgium, and Ginny had told me that she was going to the beach. I quickly apparated to the entryway of Malfoy Manor and saw my sister there.

"Michelle!" I exclaimed, tension and panic in my voice. "Where is she? Does she have Angel?"

"Yes," Michelle replied, very quietly. "They're in the dungeons. Father doesn't know that you and her are a... couple. Hurry, get down there quickly!" Of course, I hadn't stopped to wonder why she was there in the first place.

"Draco!" my father called when I entered the dungeon. I saw her sitting on the cold floor, Death Eaters all around her. Angel sat in a cage at the far end of the room. "You're just in time for the show!" His eagerness made me feel sick, and it was all I could do to keep myself from throwing up. "Now, Miss Weasley," my father spat, turning to Ginny. "Are you going to tell us where Harry Potter is?"

She shook her head, and I sure didn't know where the prat was. He turned his wand on her and hissed, "Crucio!" Over and over again he cast the spell, watching Ginny shriek in pain with an evil look on his face.

"Draco," Ginny screamed after the seventh or eighth time he cast it. "Help... please." I rushed over to her, my blond hair plastered to my face with sweat.

"It's okay," I soothed, stroking her. "It's all right, don't worry..."

Angel, three years old at that time, began crying. I could not tend to her just then; Ginny was clearly dying.

"Draco, please," she whispered softly in my ear. "If I die - if anything happens to me, please raise Angel..." She trailed off.

"How sweet," my father sneered. "Well, Draco, I'll even save you the trouble. Avada - "

"NO!" I shouted, and shielded Ginny with my hands. "No, Father, please! I'll do anything! Ginny, where's Potter?"

She whispered something in my ear.

"I'll tell you where Potter is," I yelled to my father. "He's - "

"Shut up, Draco, or I will have to hurt you. Weasley, tell me where Potter is or I will kill that child over there."

I ran over to Angel and grabbed the cage. She began crying hysterically, but I dashed back over to Ginny with the cage in my hands. "Ginny," I whispered, "this might be the last time you see her."

Ginny nodded and took the cage into her arms. My father crept up behind her and, before I could notice his presence, muttered, "Avada Kedavra." Angel and I looked behind us just as Ginny shrieked once, and collapsed. Angel, however, survived.

With a tiny red lightning scar on her head.

I stood up, brushed the dust off of my robes, and made to follow my daughter. Where would she be? In Madam Malkin's, I assumed, and so I apparated into the shop.

"Ah, Mister Malfoy," the robesmaker greeted me. "Welcome, again, to my shop." She spoke gently, probably because she, like everyone else, knew about what happened to Ginny and realized that I was still upset over it, even so many years after it happened. "I remember the first time you came here to buy school robes for yourself, don't you?"

And I did. I remember meeting Potter for the first time; remember bragging about racing brooms and how important and respectable my father was in the Wizarding world.

How silly it all seems now. I sure don't feel as such towards my father anymore.

"Yes, I'm looking for my daughter," I told her in a cool, arrogant voice. She seemed taken aback by my sudden change in expression, but turned to face the doorway that led into the fitting room.

"Kids!" she called, and five small girls walked tentatively out of the fitting room, all wearing new black Hogwarts robes.

"Hi, Daddy," my little redheaded girl greeted me. I nodded to her.

"Who are your friends here?" I asked her.

"I'm Samantha Potter," the girl in front greeted me. I shook her hand. "I believe, Mr. Malfoy, that you know my father?" A grimace spread across her face. "I daresay that Angel here and I will grow to be better friends than you and my father were." I was surprised with her way of speaking and the way she looked so much like her father. Her black hair was in messy curls around her head rivaling her mother's, and her green eyes stood out in the middle of her face. It was odd to see those eyes without being framed in glasses.

"And I'm Cassandra Weasley," one of the other girls informed me. "Daughter of Fred and Angelina Weasley." My eyes widened - that would mean that... Cassandra is - "Your niece," she interrupted my thoughts.

"But, Daddy, you said I don't have other family. Besides you."

"Oh - " I began, shocked. "Yes, honey, you do. I was wrong, I apologize."

"And, sir," Cassandra added tentatively, "I'm sorry about... my aunt." A girl behind her, appearing to be her twin, nodded in agreement. "Oh, this is my twin sister, Nicole." I shook her hand, my fingers trembling, and then shook Cassandra's.

"Your aunt?" Angel asked, her brow furrowing. "But that would be... my mother. If she's your niece. Who's my mother - who was my mother?"

"Not now, darling, I'll tell you later," I insisted, just as Cassandra replied,

"Ginevra Weasley, of course."

And that look on Angel's face clearly declared that she was definetly going to do some research on her mother. "Hey," Samantha declared, "Nice scar. It matches my dad's." I brushed my fingers across Angel's tiny scar across her forehead with a sad look on my face. "I mean, I'm sorry about it, and everything...!" Samantha added quickly.

"Hey, Mr. Malfoy," a voice from the corner greeted me. I looked around, and recognized the child to be another Weasley - another cousin of Angel's and of these twins, Cassandra and Nicole. "Jennifer Weasley," she introduced herself. "Ron and Hannah's daughter."

I shook her hand and then placed my hands on Angel's shoulders. "It was nice meeting you all," I told the girls politely. "I'll see you in two weeks." They called good-bye to Angel, who did the same, and lifting her up into my arms, we apparated back to Malfoy Manor.

"Daddy," Angel said, sitting in a green-and-silver armchair. "Tell me about my mother. I'm eleven, and she's my mother. I have a right to know."

And she was right, of course. So I summoned my journals and began telling her the story, starting from our hatred of each other.

"It was a few weeks before my second year at school was due to start, and I was at Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley. My father, your grandfather, sneakily slipped a magical diary that once belonged to the Dark Lord into your mother's bag, and I, hating her at that time, did not tell her about it. The Dark Lord wrote to her in that diary throughout the course of the year, draining her of her soul little by little..."