Dark Before the Rising Sun

"So you're Virginia Weasley."

Sabrina Malfoy, her gold-topped black walking stick leaning against the hospital bedside, beckoned for Ginny to move closer. The jewels on her fingers glittered. Ginny scooted her chair just a tad. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't slightly afraid of the Malfoy matriarch.

Don't be a ninny, she told herself, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks at the woman's stare. She's only a Malfoy, and you're a Weasley.

The gray-eyed gaze was piercing, but Ginny resolved she'd make her dead brothers proud. Her chin went up a notch, and her spine straightened.

"Hmph," observed Sabrina. "You look a bit like Will, I s'ppose, but you don't have his eyes. The Weasleys never had brown eyes. From your mother's side of the family. But you've Will's nose, and your grandmother's hands. Little Mary Weasley was a timid little thing; pretty, but never as beautiful as I was. Hmm. You've got the Stuart chin - your Great-Grandmother Rebecca was a Stuart, you know."

Ginny's eyes glittered.

"At least," she said, with a little flash of spirit, "at least my soul is my own, whoever my eyes and hands may belong to."

Draco choked back his laughter and eyed her with . . . could it be approval? Ginny shot him a look of death.

Sabrina grinned. "Will's temper, too. Move closer, child. I don't bite, contrary to what Draco here might have told you."

"Grandmother - " began Draco placatingly, but she silenced him with a wave of her hand.

"No one told you to talk, Draco. If you can't keep silent, you can get out."

Draco subsided, with a resentful glance at the wizened old woman. Ginny tried not to goggle, making a mental note to learn to speak like that so she could keep her future husband in check. The old dragon laughed softly.

"So, tell me, Miss Weasley," she said, "what made you choose Draco over what I'm sure were far more eligible suitors?"

Ginny lifted startled eyes. Surely she'd not heard correctly. "Pardon me?"

"Oh, you heard me very well the first time, child."

Ginny averted her face, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. "Draco and I knew each other for a long time," she stated carefully, skirting around the question itself.

"Well, yes, but what made you decide to marry him? And, as I am quite certain, at so short a notice?"

Ginny managed a smile that might have resembled St. Lawrence's while on his gridiron. "Friendship is a good foundation for marriage," she murmured, vaguely.

Sabrina's eyes narrowed. She knew full well that the girl was gainsaying her. She snorted and tried another tactic.

"Do you love him?" she asked, straight out.

Ginny choked and began to cough. Draco thumped her helpfully on the back. "Are you all right, dear?" he asked.

Ginny nodded weakly. "I - I - of course I do," she stammered. "Very much so."

"Hmph," said Sabrina, but she let the matter drop. An uncomfortable silence descended on the room. Draco cleared his throat three times before his grandmother finally said, "And how is your mother, gel?"

Ginny immediately stiffened. "Mother had her operation yesterday," she said, dispassionately. "The doctors said she has a good chance."

"A sensible woman, your mother. She was a Burnley. The Burnleys were always sensible. The only unsensible thing she did was run off with your father."

"She loved him," said Ginny, her mouth tightening and her temper rising. Who did this rude, insolent woman think she was, anyway? "He made her happy, and whatever we lacked in money was made up in love. Which, I am sure, is more than can be said about Draco here."

Sabrina laughed softly. "You've chosen yourself a kitten with claws, Draco," she grinned.

Draco smiled sardonically. "I was well aware of that, ma'am, before I asked her to marry me."

Ginny glowered.

"I don't deny that your father was a good man, gel," said Sabrina, turning back to Ginny with an elegant, one-shouldered shrug. "I was saying that your mother had more backbone than I ever did. If I had had the grit to be unsensible I would have run off in spite of my father." Sabrina nodded, looking suddenly very old and very tired. "Well, send her my good wishes. I'd best take a nap now. It was a pleasure, gel. Draco has indeed found a gem in you. See that he's worthy of it."

Draco stood up and helped Ginny to her feet. "Have a good nap, Grandmother," said Draco. Ginny nodded politely and shook hands with her.

"Run along now," said Sabrina, waving her hand, already yawning. With a last look at the old woman, the two turned and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind them.

***

"Whew," said Draco, once they were outside in the hospital halls. His hand was still resting possessively around Ginny's waist, and she found herself liking the feel. "The old woman liked you. That's a relief."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Malfoy," said Ginny, tartly. She was still recovering from her encounter with his strange grandmother.

"I didn't mean that, wench," he said, teasingly, "and you know it."

His smile was tender and affectionate. It was so unlike the smirk she was accustomed to see on that beautifully molded face that Ginny couldn't help staring.

Something shifted in his eyes, and for a minute she thought he might kiss her again. When he didn't, she sighed and sagged against him. He unconsciously tightened his hold.

"Tired, Weasley?"

"Am I ever. What a day!" His shirt smelled good. She pressed closer.

"Tell you what," he said, his voice sounding strangely husky, "Let's go boating. I know of a barge that goes down the Thames every afternoon at four."

She lifted her eyes to meet his, and they sparkled with interest. "Would you really?" she asked. Pleasure filtered through her. "A boat ride sounds lovely."

"Anything to take your mind of your mother." He brushed his lips against her hair, and Ginny shivered. "I know a little café where we can take tea and there are always interesting things to see along the shore. I thought you might like to take your sketch pad along."

Ginny grinned, excited by the prospect. "I'd love to. I've never gone before."

"Never?" asked Draco, arching a brow with mock horror. "What a deprived child you've been!"

"You should talk, Malfoy."

He grinned back. "Let's Apparate."

***

The day was crisp and cloudy, but the clouds did not threaten rain, and Draco enjoyed the clean coolness of the air. They had Apparated an hour before, and were now perched on deck chairs set out for the passengers who could afford to pay the first-class fare, sipping lemonade and simply enjoying the afternoon. The Thames rippled pleasantly in the cool white afternoon.

He was at his most charming, entertaining Ginny with tales of his misguided youth, though out of deference to her newly acquired status as his fiancée, he had left out the most interesting parts.

The barge reached the hamlet of Tinkernon at the edge of the city, where they took a sumptuous tea at a small café. Afterwards, Ginny expressed interest in seeing the shipyard. There, the owner Kingston, a tall, bearded man who possessed a booming laugh and beer belly, offered them a tour.

"Oh, no, we shouldn't wish to bother you," began Draco, but the big man waved aside his protestations.

"No bother at all. I can personally escort you."

A few minutes later they were being shown the ways, and then entered one of the big yards where the keel of a sailing vessel was being laid. They were midget figures inside the forty-foot walls that rose on all sides of them. Kingston explained that when a ship was finished and ready to be floated out, ocean water was released into the yard and the outer wall swung away so the ship could float out with ease.

Ginny studied the bare bones of the ship's hull in the making. She asked, "You're not presently working on this one?"

"No," said Kingston. "We've been asked to complete a ship that's nearly finished. So we sent all our labor force there. But I thought you would enjoy seeing the inside of the yard."

"Oh, we have!" said Ginny enthusiastically. Draco eyed her bright face with pleasure. She was perking up. He thanked whatever gods there were for the stroke of genius that caused him to suggest boating. The sea air was doing her good. His eyes darkened as he gazed at her, this vital, living creature that had flown into his life like some exotic bird.

While she looked at the boat, he himself could look at her. She might have been beautiful, but it did not matter; beyond the regularity of her features there was a freshness, an innocence that she had retained through all the years of struggling. While it might have made other women hard-eyed and cynical, in her it had only strengthened her will and resolve.

"But I found the stairway descent dizzying," Ginny was saying, eyeing the open steps up one side of the yard.

"Was my solid presence not enough to assuage your fears?" Draco asked mockingly. Kingston gave his booming laugh and followed her gaze.

"It can be frightening when you're not used to it."

They were still discussing the yard when a man came hurrying down the steps to tell Kingston that he was needed to make some important decision. He excused himself and went up the steps to join the messenger, leaving them in the bottom of the yard. As he climbed the unprotected steps, his figure grew tinier.

"I suppose we should go with him," said Ginny. "There's not much left to see here, and it's growing dark. We should be going home."

Draco liked the sound of that word. Home. All his life, he'd never had a home, really. He'd lived in house after house, but the home lights had never shown for him.

With Ginny, maybe, they would.

"Yeah," he said. "Let's go home. Are you hungry?"

"Hungry?" she laughed. He wanted to own that laugh, so clear and happy and ringing. His hand tightened around her waist, but she didn't seem to mind.

"After that tea I ate," she said, "I don't think I'll ever - what's that?"

She stopped, and they both became aware of a roaring sound. It grew louder every second, and Draco turned to see what was causing it.

Coming at them from the ocean end of the yard was a great wave of water.

In a moment, it would be on them, overwhelming them.

***

"The sluice gates," Draco said, cursing fluently under his breath. "Someone opened them. Come on."

Seizing Ginny roughly by the arm as she stood there frozen by the sight of the growing mountain of advancing seawater coming down on them, he dragged her toward the steps. They had only gone a foot or two when the water was at their ankles, then at their knees, the roaring horrendous now. By the time they had staggered to the bottom of the steps, the water was waist high.

They hurried up the steps, the water gaining force behind them. Gasping with exertion, they clambered upwards. Once or twice, they were sure they'd be drowned, but each time, Draco managed to drag both of them out.

Ginny's palm was bleeding by the time they finally reached the safety of the grassy area by the steps. Draco collapsed to the ground, and Ginny, trembling violently, threw herself into his arms.

Below them, the yard was filled entirely with water.

"Are - are you all right, love?" asked Draco, smoothing back her dripping hair.

"Hold me," whispered Ginny. She was shaking like a leaf, her bones felt bendy, and the terror had not yet left her heart. Her blood pulsed quick and thinly through her veins. "Just - hold me."

They sat there in silence for a few minutes. They were both drenched to the bone and cold, but Ginny found a strange comfort in his arms. She was safe, she repeated to herself over and over. Nothing could harm her. Draco would see to it.

At last, her sobbing ceased. She pulled closer to him, and said into his shoulder, "Let's just go home, Draco."

In spite of what had just occurred, Draco found himself thinking that he liked the sound of his name when she spoke it in that tone.