What The Moon Saw

Slowly, the full moon rose and shone its cold, silver light on a small Victorian house just outside of Godric's Hollow. The face of the moon was impassive as she watched the slumbering world below. The moon had no use for human lives.

Below, in the small wizarding town of Godric's Hollow, a few people were not asleep yet, including those who lived in the small Victorian house. It was silent outside, but not so inside the house.

"Harry!" a young, redheaded woman screamed hysterically. She was holding on to the banister of a spiral staircase, tears streaming down her face. A young, black-haired man had a firm grip on her hair and was trying to pull her up the stairs. "Harry, no! Stop! You'll wake up Victoria! Harry -" her scream was ended suddenly as Harry let go of her hair and simultaneously swung his fist. It connected with the side of the woman's face with a loud smack. She tottered, tears blurring her vision. One of her feet got caught on her other ankle, she tottered again and pitched forward, falling face first on the stairs and tumbling down the rest of the way. Harry stood there and watched her fall, his face as cold and distant as the moon that could be seen through the dark window.

With a piteous cry, the woman hit the floor and lay still, breathing heavily. Harry looked at her, and for a moment, he couldn't remember who she was, why she was here with him and why he had hit her. Then the memories flooded back, and he gasped, horrified. What had he done? He just hit Virginia, his Virginia, his Ginny, his wife. How could he? Face contorted with worry and concern, he hurried down the stairs and knelt next to her, reaching out to touch her back. He only wanted to soothe and comfort her, but she scrambled away from him, whimpering and panting. "Don't..." she muttered through clenched teeth. Upstairs, a baby wailed. "Don't touch me," Ginny hissed, looking up at her husband through a cloud of tangled red curls. Her nose was bleeding, and her right eye was purpling, and her breath came in gasps and hisses, but she looked at Harry and he found that he couldn't do anything but stare at her and silently be sorry.

The next day, Ginny was at Madam Malkin's, assisting customers. Madam herself was in the back room, sorting through the new shipments of silks that had just come in, and Ginny was left to manage the storefront alone. The door swung open, and Ginny looked up, forcing a smile on her face, which faded as soon as she saw who walked in.

Draco Malfoy glanced around the shop, adjusting the silver and emerald clasp of his black velvet cloak. When his eyes fell on Ginny, he smiled unexpectedly. Taking a few steps forward, his long strides brought him to Ginny, who was in the process of dressing up a mannequin in sky blue dress robes. Ginny looked up, lifting her eyebrows, but stopped as the skin of her eye stretched and a sharp pain reminded her of the previous night. Her eye was now a lovely purple color, and swollen. Despite the cosmetic charms she applied to make it look normal, it still ached.

"May I help you?" asked Ginny politely and a little dully. Draco only smiled wider.

"Why, yes. My father, Lucius Malfoy, is hosting a dinner party and I'm afraid I've quite exhausted my wardrobe." Draco's words were carefully chosen and sounded perfectly normal coming from his aristocratic mouth. "Would you have any suggestions, Miss Weasley?"

"Dress robes," stated Ginny curtly. "And it's Mrs. Potter." She knew it was the obvious answer, but she wasn't exactly in the best mood and she did not want to play serving maid to Malfoy.

"Yes, of course," Draco tilted his head, smiling gently at her. "But what color? What material? What cut?"

With a small sigh, Ginny led Draco over to a rack of silk and velvet dress robes, all in dark shades of red, indigo, green and black. She sifted through the robes until she found what she was looking for - an ensemble of dark emerald silk robes, so fine and soft that Ginny wished her sheets were made out of the material, and a black, crushed velvet cloak. She held the pair out to Draco, who inspected them closely and finally nodded, satisfied. "You like this?" he asked her. Ginny nodded. "The material is lovely," she said dreamily, forgetting about her bruise, her mood and her life, simply reveling in the beautiful silk and wished she owned something halfway as lovely.

"I'll take it, then." Draco decided firmly. "How much?"

"Fifty-seven Galleons," replied Ginny absentmindedly. Draco pulled out a pouch that was full to bursting with coins, counted out the money and handed it to Ginny. She put it away in the cashbox behind the counter and took the robes from Draco. Quickly, she wrapped them in brown paper, tied the package with a string and magicked the ends of the string into a bow. Looking down at the floor, she handed the package to Draco. His fingers brushed hers, and she shivered. She never wanted to be touched again, not by any man. Still, she watched Draco walk out of the shop from behind her curtain of red hair, sighing wistfully to herself.

"Virginia!" came the voice of Madam Malkin from the back room. Tearing her gaze away from the retreating Draco, Ginny hurried into the room, keeping her head down.

It wasn't Harry's fault, Ginny thought to herself while she walked down Diagon Alley. It wasn't his fault he hit her. He needed a way to relieve himself of stress. Of course, there were surely other, less painful ways to do so, but until they thought of one...it just wasn't his fault! He just couldn't hold his liquor. Ginny sighed for what seemed like the millionth time that day, thinking back on the many times Harry had come home from a pub, drunk, and begun screaming at her. He had started hitting her only recently, and he always seemed very sorry afterwards. It wasn't his fault! He had had so many things to deal with...the death of Cho Chang in his sixth year - they were together then, and very much in love. Then the Dursleys were murdered in his seventh year, and Hermione was kidnapped and tortured. That was when Harry had turned to Ginny for comfort, and she finally was happy, because she was with the one that she loved. Hermione was fine now, married to Ron and pregnant with their second child. Ginny and Harry were still together, but Ginny found herself checking Hermione's face and body for bruises and scratched lately, every time they met. Still...Harry had dealt with so much stress. His job at the Ministry as an Auror wasn't a light load, either, so when he went drinking after work, his temper and patience would run short afterwards. He had often gone to pubs with Fred and George, who thought it really funny to get Harry totally drunk. Obviously, they did not know what went on at Harry's house when he returned home.

Not that it mattered. It wasn't Harry's fault. He was just stressed and overworked. He still loved her, of course. He would stop. He wouldn't hit her anymore. He loved her, and that was all that mattered, and he would stop because he loved her.

Ginny was curled up in front of a blazing fire, enjoying a mug of hot tea and staring into the flames, thinking about nothing at all. Harry had Flooed in to tell her he would be late coming home from work, and she was glad. Victoria was asleep, and Ginny reveled in the peace and quiet that enveloped their small house. Suddenly, a sharp knock on the front door brought her out of her reverie. Plunking the mug down on a mahogany coffee table, Ginny went to the door. She unlocked and opened it.

There was nobody there.

"Hello?" called Ginny. No answer. She looked around. Only the bushes and the trees, dark lumps in the dark night, rustled and waved slightly with the night breeze. The waning moon overhead looked impassively on the small, bright-haired figure, peering around her front yard curiously.

Ginny was about to close the door when she spotted a parcel lying on the steps. Intrigued, she bent down and picked it up. "Virginia Potter," it read, in an unfamiliar, flowing handwriting. She shook it. It didn't make any noise. Looking around again and reassured that nobody was there, Ginny closed the door and looked down at the package.

In the living room, she unwrapped it. A set of white silk robes with a rich burgundy velvet cloak, the dark color of good Merlot. She fingered the cloth. The silk was so soft and fine, like a dream. Like the robes she had sold to Draco. She looked at the brown wrapping paper. There was a small, handwritten note Spellotaped to the inside of the packaging, written in the same flowery cursive. Dear Virginia, it read, please accept my humble gift and accompany me to my father's dinner party. I sincerely hope you will decide to join me. I will be waiting your reply by owl. Signed, Draco Lucius Malfoy.

In shock, Ginny stared at the note, then at the robes, then at the note again. Just then, Victoria mewled upstairs, and Ginny hurried to her daughter, robes tucked under one arm. She absentmindedly tucked the note into the pocket of her old house robes.

The next night, Ginny was sitting on the couch in her living room, poised on the edge and fiddling with the sleeve of the white silken robe. She was waiting for Draco.

Harry had Flooed in to tell her he would be working late again, tracking down the case of an especially elusive Death Eater named Ekhardt Brown. He said not to expect him anytime before three o'clock in the morning or later. He looked apologetic still, and his eyes were downcast in the fire, looking at the ashes. Ginny had nodded and agreed, and when he left, ran upstairs to change into her new robes. She sent their owl, Lysander, to the Malfoy Manor with a reply to Draco's note. She would be coming with him.

Then again, why shouldn't she? Ginny reasoned with herself as she looked around the room nervously. It was just an innocent dinner party, and she got out so rarely lately. Mostly it was her job, her daughter and Harry. It kept her busy, running in circles until she felt like she could take it no more and her head was about to fall off. She needed a break, a way out of the pattern, and the party offered a perfect opportunity to relax. Harry never paid much attention to her nowadays, he was so wrapped up in his job. They only spoke at dinnertimes, or when Harry was telling her he was working late again. When he was drunk...well, that was another matter. He wasn't drunk very often, at least.

It was perfectly fine for her to go out and have a little fun. Harry could go out to pubs with Fred, George and his work partners. Why couldn't she go to a dinner party with an old schoolmate? True, she and Draco weren't the best of friends back in Hogwarts, but they were out of school now. Were they supposed to keep school grudges? They were adults now. It was perfectly fine.

A knock on the door, much like the previous night, startled her. She rose, smoothing her red curls and adjusting her crimson cloak. Within minutes, she was standing in front of the door, with her fingers on the latch. Racking up her courage, she unlocked it with a quiet click and opened the door.

Draco Malfoy stood there, resplendent in the green silk and black velvet she chose for him yesterday. He smiled gently at her and offered her a rose. She accepted it, looking down at the flower with some amusement. Harry never brought her flowers anymore, and she loved them. Especially roses. The rose was of a deep crimson color that matched her cloak almost perfectly. She smiled at Draco, and he offered her his arm. She took it, and they set off down the walk after she placed locking spells on the front door.

Draco looked down at her, some amusement in his face. "You look beautiful," he said. Ginny lowered her eyes shyly. Harry never commented on her looks anymore, not even if she was wearing new robes or styled her hair in a new way. "Thank you," she murmured, shy all of a sudden. "You look very nice too."

Smiling, he pulled a crystal orb from his robes and offered it to her. She frowned up at him, but he just nodded at her to touch it. He was wearing gloves, and he removed the glove from one hand to touch the orb with his bare skin. She hesitantly placed her hand on the orb, and was suddenly jerked up into the air. It felt like a hook was pulling her along, and she gasped with the force of the pull. The orb was obviously a Portkey, she figured. Soon, they landed on the sweeping and immaculate grounds of Malfoy Manor.

Ginny wavered unsteadily, and Draco caught her by the elbow, steadying her. He put the orb away again, and offered her a cool smile. "Are you all right?" Ginny nodded. "I've always hated Portkeys," she managed, trying to catch her breath. Draco looked concerned and muttered an apology. She smiled up at him, shaking her head. "It's fine. Shall we go in?"

Draco nodded. "Of course." He took her arm again, and led her up to the Manor.

The old building was very impressive, although not in the same way that Hogwarts was. The old school mansion was warm and welcoming, with promises of knowledge and acceptance, just waiting to wrap you in its comforting embrace as soon as you stepped within its threshold. The Malfoy Manor was different. It was enormous and loomed over them, somehow threatening and menacing. Unlike Hogwarts, it seemed to promise nightmares and darkness, cloaked in shadow, with the moon hanging right overhead. Ginny dared a glance at the moon. It looked back at her coldly, immaculate in all its chilly splendor and glory, indifferent to Ginny's thoughts and feelings. The moon watched Draco lead Ginny into the Manor, and continued observing the quiet, still grounds long after they were gone.

Sighing contentedly, Ginny sank onto a nearby bench. The dinner party was lovely, with the Malfoys and quite a few Ministry officials and workers. They had all made civil conversation and ate wonderful food. Ginny was reminded of how much she missed social events like this one, now that she stayed home all the time. Afterwards, the coffee had been brought out, and Ginny excused herself. The room was warm, almost stiflingly so, and Ginny's head spun with the scent of the women's perfume and the sweet, cloying smell of the burning fire. She just wanted a breath of fresh air. Draco had volunteered to show her to the terrace, where she rested on a bench, thankful for the chilly night. Draco stood next to her, looking out into the darkness. After a minute, Ginny stood up and joined him, leaning on the stone banister and looking out over the dark grounds.

"What're you thinking?" Draco murmured into her ear. Ginny shivered lightly at the way his breath stirred the hair on the nape of her neck.

"I'm thinking how much I missed going to parties and gatherings," she answered simply.

"Why have you stopped going?"

Ginny shrugged. "Harry. He'd rather I spend time with him. And my daughter, Victoria."

"Yours and Harry's?" Draco seemed a little surprised. Ginny nodded wordlessly. "Did you leave her home alone?"

Ginny laughed quietly. "Of course not! This," she lifted a small gold circle that was handing from a thin gold chain around her neck, "is an Awakening Charm. Victoria has one just like it. Every time she wakes up, cries, or if something's wrong, the charm glows. That way, I can Apparate home and see what's wrong."

Draco nodded thoughtfully. "Pretty clever." Ginny smiled.

Suddenly, Draco turned towards her and grasped her chin between his fingers. "Why, Ginny? Why do you stay with him?"

Ginny frowned. "Who? Harry?"

Draco sighed, as if exasperated. "Yes, Harry. Why are you with him?"

"Because I love him," Ginny said defensively, but not as passionately as she could have.

"But what he does to you..." Draco looked at her face, pity and concern in his eyes.

"What does he do to me?" asked Ginny. Her heartbeat pulsed like mad in her chest. How did he know?

"Finite incantem," whispered Draco. Ginny hadn't even seen him take out his wand. He gasped audibly, and Ginny realized he had ended the cosmetic spell that hid the ugly purple bruise around her eye. "Why, Ginny?" he asked desperately.

"Because I love him," cried Ginny stubbornly. "And he loves me. And we have Victoria. And he only does it when he's drunk, and he's not drunk that often, and he's going to stop-"

Draco cut her off by placing his palms on both sides of her face and kissing her fiercely. Ginny stiffened, then relaxed, kissing him back. It felt so good to kiss someone, so passionately, under the stars and the moon, in the darkness. Wait! What was she doing? She was married to Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, even though he wasn't a boy anymore, but he was her childhood crush, and they had a baby...Ginny tore away from Draco's grasp, shook her head mutely, her brown eyes wide and horrified, and fled.

The waning moon watched Ginny's flight coldly, because the moon did not care for humans and their affairs. The moon was reflected in two pairs of silver eyes, who also watched Ginny run down the grounds, her red hair streaking behind her, her white robes looking like reflections of the moon's impassive face.

During the next month, Draco and Ginny met often, in dark alleys and dim restaurants, and dined, laughed and kissed. Often, only the moon witnessed their meetings. Ginny had convinced herself that it was all right, that Harry was working and there was nothing else to do, and that a little romance was perfectly healthy in a young woman's life. Nobody had seen them together, certainly, so nobody knew; and if nobody knew, then whom would it hurt? As far as it went, Ginny told herself, it didn't hurt anyone. What she did and whom she met was her business and her business alone.

Then, after a few weeks, Draco started trying to convince her to leave Harry. They had met in a dimly lit, tiny Thai restaurant in Muggle London, knowing that nobody would ever spot them there. The previous night, Harry had come home drunk again, and screamed at Ginny about not having mopped the kitchen floors that day. He had twisted her wrist harshly, and it still ached. Ginny wondered if it was sprained. She had also hit her head on the table leg when Harry pushed her to the floor, and now there was a large knob there that she had a hard time hiding, even with cosmetic charms. Draco seemed appalled at what Harry had done, and told her to leave him immediately. Ginny refused.

"I love him, Draco," she told him firmly. "I love him, and he loves me, and everything's fine." Draco had pointed to her head and said that it didn't look like fine to him. Ginny shook her head and changed the subject.

Exactly a month later, though, Ginny had a very different outlook on the manner entirely. Harry had gone out drinking with the twins, and they returned him home completely senseless. As soon as the door was shut behind them, Harry began screaming at Ginny, but she couldn't tell what he was saying, he was slurring so badly. She tried to calm him down, but that seemed to enrage him even more, and he just kept shouting. Ginny heard Draco's name, and paled instantly. Someone had seen them.

Harry advanced on her, waving his arms and yelling something incomprehensible. Ginny shook her head and backed down, feeling terrified. Someone had seen her and Draco. She felt numb. Harry would surely kill her for this. Then, she remembered the conversation she and Draco had had just a few days before. With a shriek, she bolted for the staircase, desperate to get to their bedroom and her wand. Unfortunately, even drunk, Harry was faster. He caught her by the hair and swung her around. Screaming, Ginny hit the wall, and cracked her head on a picture frame hanging just overhead. Glass rained down around her, and she cried out and covered her face, feeling warm blood slide down her face from the cut in her head. Harry had let go of her hair and was standing there, looking at her, but no recognition came into his eyes. He was numb and cold as he watched Ginny stare at her fingers in amazement. Harry had never drawn blood, even when he hit her. Groping around for something by her side, Ginny's fingers closed over a candlestick. She grasped it firmly and flung it at Harry. Harry looked at it flying through the air, and Ginny ran for the stairs again. She could hear him growling behind her, but he was drunk and loose-limbed, and kept tripping over his own feet. That gave her just enough time to reach the stairs and spring up, up, up.

Inside their bedroom, she searched everywhere for her wand, finally finding it in the robes she had worn the last time she met Draco, just the night before. Gripping it tightly in her right hand, she unwittingly clenched the other so that her nails pierced little half-moons in her palm. She kept running over the spell in her mind. Finally, she could hear Harry's heavy steps just outside of the room. It was dark, so she did not see him, but she heard him.

He flipped the light switch, and at the moment that light flooded, Ginny screamed, "Crucio!"

She did not hear Harry scream. He stayed silent, looking down at the tiny, wriggling bundle in his arms, looking puzzled. The bundle was what was screaming, crying out with all the strength its' little lungs could muster.

Ginny gasped, horrified. Oh, what had she done?

Harry, still looking puzzled, but also scared, dropped the bundle. The cries ceased, and Ginny heard a sickening crunch. All that lay on the floor was a heap of blankets, with a tiny white hand sticking out from underneath, and the top of a little head with a shock of brown hair.

Victoria. She had killed Victoria.

No.

Harry had killed Victoria.

Harry was now looking at Ginny, horror in his green eyes as realization finally flooded over his face. "Ginny..." he whispered, instantly sober. "I am so, so sorry. But, why -" He was cut off as Ginny raised her wand once again and said, quite calmly, "Avada Kedavra."

She was gone by the time his body hit the floor.

Ginny Apparated at the Malfoy Manor in tears. What had she just done? She killed her own daughter and her husband! No, she hadn't killed Victoria. It was Harry's fault. All Harry's fault. Why had he picked her up and taken her to Ginny, anyway? If he wasn't drunk, if he wasn't holding her, if he didn't hit Ginny, Victoria would be alive and well right now. Harry had killed their daughter. Not Ginny.

Sobbing, Ginny ran up to the mansion and threw herself at the door, beating upon it wildly with her fists. Her fists ached and blood was still sliding down her face slowly, but she didn't care. She just kept beating on the door and crying loudly.

Suddenly, the door was gone and she pitched forward, falling on top of someone. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and she wouldn't be able to see anyway through her tears, but she could smell the familiar scent.

Draco steadied her and pulled her to him, smoothing her hair and murmuring soothing words. She just kept crying; the sobs racked her body and her tears drenched the front of Draco's silk shirt. Finally, Draco untangled himself from her and looked down at her, clasping her shoulders firmly.

"Ginny, hush! What is it?"

"I did it, Draco," Ginny sobbed. "I killed him."

A slow smile spread over Draco's face. "You did? That's wonderful, my dear. He deserved it, the bastard. He shouldn't've been hitting you. Darling," he touched the side of her face, looking concerned. "You're bleeding."

"I know." Ginny hiccupped. "He pushed me and I hit the wall and hit my head on a picture frame. I was going to Cruciate him, but he had Victoria and the curse hit her instead. Then he dropped her, and she's-" Ginny stared at Draco, wild-eyed, as if only now realizing the horrible truth. "Draco, Victoria's dead, and I killed Harry! I said Avada Kedavra, and he just died, just like that, he..." Ginny wailed and sobbed again, repeating, "I killed him" over and over and over again.

Draco looked pleased. "It's just as well, Virginia. It's probably best that no descendants of Harry Potter survive. We can have our own children now, and we can be together, just the two of us, forever." He smiled gently at Ginny, but she shivered. His tone was just strange. Too calm and collected. "She was my child too," she whispered.

Draco waved his hand as if to say that it didn't matter. "Like I said," he told her slowly, "we can have our own children now. Although, I must admit, Virginia, I didn't have such faith in you. I didn't think you'd do it so soon."

"I had to," Ginny whispered.

"I know. It was remarkable. I must," Draco paused, a self-satisfied smirk on his face, "congratulate you on your execution of the plan. Very admirable. So I will tell you welcome, you may become a part of us now. You may join us, and be an honored one among us."

Slowly, Ginny raised her eyes to Draco's face, terrible apprehension dawning. "Us?"

Draco laughed, loud and merry. "Surely you didn't think you were doing it all for me? You didn't think that I wanted you all for my own?" He stretched out his left forearm and pulled up the sleeve of his silken shirt. The Dark Mark stared Ginny in the eye, ugly and sharp in contrast to Draco's perfect, pale skin.

Ginny's eyes slid from Draco's arm to her own bloodied fingers, and only then did she begin to scream.

The full moon swam up to the center of the celestial bowl leisurely and looked down at the dark earth. Everything was peaceful. The moonlight shone down at the world and lit up everything in shades of silver. It filtered through the windows of the little Victorian house just outside of Godric's Hollow and drew patterns on the floor and the walls. The cold light reflected off of the open, staring eyes of a black-haired man who was lying on the floor. The reflection made his eyes shine and made him look sinister, even though he was dead. Or maybe it was because he was dead. The moon's rays threw shadows on the little pile of blankets on the floor beside the dead man, and made the little hand that was uncovered by the blankets a pearlescent white. The skin of the dead man and the tiny hand shone, translucent, in the icy light of the moon. Then the light faded.

The moon was hidden by a dark cloud, and no longer cast its cold light and impassive glance towards the earth. It did not matter, because the moon did not care. It, after all, had no interest in humans' lives.