Tender the Storm

Chapter Three: After Many Days

The sun was warm on his face, and the crisp smell of clean grass filled his lungs. Draco gazed across the broad expanse of Malfoy land.

The once sinister landscape was now sunny and beautiful; where there had once been monsters and mazes and beasts there were now brilliant gardens, neatly manicured lawns, sloping terraces, and ivy covered arches.

The sound of the door opening behind him brought Draco around, and he watched Samuel shake his head as he walked back inside the room.

"Sorry to make you wait. But there is no sign of them anywhere. Since it is such a beautiful day, Miss Weasley must have taken young John for a walk. I left word for her to come here as soon as she arrives."

Draco turned his attention back outside. In the distance, beyond a few stately old oaks, a young urchin of a lad was running in wild circles around his mother. He watched the woman open her arms and catch the boy as he threw himself roughly against her. The two toppled and he frowned as they fell laughing to the ground.

The hood of her cloak fell back in the chaos of the moment, and flowing locks of golden red hair now caught the bright sunshine. She had her back to him, but Draco could see the way her hands were cradling the boy's face. He assumed she was scolding the lad, but all the love in her gestures spoke differently. A moment later, the boy placed his arms around her neck, remaining in the mother's embrace for several moments. In spite of the opening of their display of affection, a sense of intrusion on something private stirred in the pit of his stomach, and he averted his eyes.

Carlisle's furrowed brow greeted him as he looked across the room.

"Speak your mind, Carlisle, for God's sake! You look as if you're being led to the gallows."

"I had the pleasure of spending some time in Miss Weasley's company on the journey here, Mr. Malfoy. She is not a woman to be bought."

Draco regarded the other man coldly. "I knew Miss Weasley in school, Carlisle. Quite well."

The solicitor was not so easily dissuaded. "Miss Weasly has acted in the capacity of John's mother for nearly nine years. And her affection for him - her relationship with him - is not one that can be severed easily."

To hide his growing irritation, Draco strode away from the lawyer.

"I encourage you to listen to her recommendations and her concerns regarding the lad before dismissing her. On the journey here, she enlightened me with - "

"You appear to have spent a great deal of time in each other's company."

Color crept up his lawyer's neck. "It is not what you think, sir. We did, however, have reason to converse from time to time. Quite reasonably, Miss Weasly had questions about John's future, concerns about where the lad was to live and how much time he would be spending in your company . . ." He looked away under the pressure of his client's gaze.

"I must say that you sound like a man smitten, Carlisle." He waved off the lawyer as he started to object. "Don't take me wrong. You know I am the last man to meddle in another's affairs."

"You are misconstruing my motives in speaking on her behalf, Mr. Malfoy. Your son's welfare was the point of our discussion on the journey and - "

A soft knock curtailed any further explanation. Draco nodded toward the door, and Samuel moved to open it.

Standing with his hand on the latch, he looked into the other man's eyes. "You pay me to advise you, sir. I advise you give the woman a fair hearing."

***

Standing in the corridor outside the Malfoy Manor library, Ginny tried to reassure herself that everything would be all right. Jacky had been taken by an Irish serving woman to be cleaned up and changed into his best clothes, and she was alone.

She had not even bothered to shed her cloak before directing her steps to the library, for the message from Samuel Carlisle had said that the master wished to speak to her first.

Cold dread washed through her as she raised her hand to knock. She had tried. She had tried to tell Jacky the truth of his parentage. When they were walking outside she had once again failed to find a way of telling him - just as she had failed each time she tried on the journey here. The simple truth was that she just couldn't cut the bond between them before he'd had a chance to form a new one. She couldn't leave him alone and vulnerable - not until there was another to take her place.

She prayed for some understanding and compassion from the man she had once loved on her failure to do what was right. She desperately hoped that Draco might even suggest a solution. She lifted a trembling hand to the door again.

A flushed Samuel Carlisle opened the heavy oak door.

"I'm very glad you are here, Mr. Carlisle," she started in a low voice. "IO wanted to make certain that I received the message correctly. Mr. - Mr. Malfoy wishes to meet with me before he meets with Jacky?"

"That is correct, Miss Weasley."

"What of Jacky? Shall I have him brought here in a short while?"

"Don't concern yourself with that, miss."

Ginny shot a quick look at the lawyer's face. His eyes flickered away, and she felt a chasm open in the pit of her stomach.

"But before I can . . ." she hesitated. "It is important that Mr. Malfoy meet his son before . . ."

"Please come in, Miss Weasley. Master Malfoy is waiting. I'll go and look in on young John shortly."

As Ginny listened to the lawyer's quiet words, her gaze was drawn to the broad back of a man in a sleekly tailored suit, who moved to look out the window across the room.

For a long moment, Ginny stood perfectly still, stunned and staring, unidentifiable thoughts flitting through her head. The years had hardened his high-boned face, she saw in her first startled glance, but he was still arrogantly handsome. A woman catching a glimpse of him from across a room would look again. And then again.

But for Ginny just to see him once was more than she could bear. Yet she could not look away, not even if the whole world ignited into a blazing conflagration just then.

He hadn't changed . . . oh, he hadn't changed at all. Still wicked and dashing and irreverent. A scapegrace Malfoy to his very bones, and to the devil with you if you didn't like it. He still moved like a lazy cat, and his voice was still drawling and careless as he spoke.

"Good afternoon, Miss Weasley."

When I marry, it will be a woman, not a scrawny carrottop not even out of her teens. She'll be a woman with breeding and money, not some schoolgirl without even two beans to boil together to make soup.

But I love you.

Too bloody bad, Weasley. Because I don't love you.

She had laid her heart at his feet, and he had walked away. How amusing she must have seemed to him, how he must have laughed - silly, foolish little Ginny Weasley, begging him to marry her. Silly, foolish child . . . but oh, how she had loved him then.

And how she hated him now.

Her first instinct was to run, but there was no where to run to. So she clasped her hands together loosely and raised cool, impersonal eyes to his. "Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy." The words tasted acid on her tongue.

The sunlight gleamed off his bright hair. He had been pale - very pale - when they had last met; pale skin and pale eyes and pale hair. But now he was golden - so gloriously, gloriously golden, like a sleek lion. His eyes were as cold and gray as ever, but his skin was bronzed and his hair was as richly colored as a Galleon.

Draco gazed down at this woman who had once been the girl he loved better than his own life. Now, she was only a stranger. When he had left England twelve years before Ginny Weasley had still been a child, a child in spite of her unfathomable eyes, but this young woman with the aloof eyes and polite smile that stood before him was not the laughing, vivid, trusting girl he had left behind. The warmth, the vitality, the trust was gone.

He felt his throat close, and for a second he had to remind himself to breathe.

"If you'll excuse me, Master Malfoy, I must be looking in on young John. I will be down below, making arrangements."

Carlisle slipped out the door, and Draco noted the anxious gaze Ginny directed at the lawyer as he made his escape. He waited a minute, allowing the tension to build. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Did you have a peasant journey, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny swallowed. "We did."

Her voice trembled slightly. He watched her eyes search the room with alarm. Her hands were fisted tightly at her sides, conveying the image of a doe brought to bay.

He clasped his hands behind his back and tried not to focus on the tendrils of hair that framed the pale face.

"I have a number of engagements awaiting me in London, so it would be best if we get down to the reason of my trip to Malfoy Manor." He started pacing. "Before I present you with what I believe you will find to be ample compensation for your service to the Malfoy family, I want you to know, Miss Weasley, that you are welcome to remain here at the Manor as my gust for as long as you wish. Your expenses - "

"Compensation?" she interrupted with ill-concealed anger, her sharp gaze stopping him dead. "I was under the impression that I was invited here to speak to you about your son."

"You are mistaken, Miss Weasley. I have asked you here so I can finish what my lawyer failed to do - in spite of my clear instructions to him."

"Mr. Carlisle made a very generous, and very misdirected, offer of money already. Please be assured that the sum he offered had nothing to do with my refusal. But I must tell you that such a discussion is pointless."

"Miss Weasley, you will be paid for your - "

"I insist that you consider the matter of compensation closed." The change in her demeanor was immediate and remarkable. The hounds might have her at bay, but she was not about to lie down and make it easy for them.

"My family has incurred a debt to you. Until you accept what is rightfully owed you - "

"You owe me nothing, Mr. Malfoy. There is nothing owed, because there was no debt - no bartering - no contractual agreements of any kind. I did not take Jacky - John into my care with any expectation of monetary gain. I refuse to demean my love for your son - my son - by allowing you or anyone else to quantify its worth."

"Miss Weasley - "

"The subject is closed, Mr. Malfoy. I have some business that I should like to discuss with you."

"You have business to discuss?"

Ginny lifted her chin at his haughty tone.

"It has to do with the welfare of your son."

"The boy is back where he belongs. His welfare is no longer your concern."

"I beg to differ!" The anger that brought color instantly to her cheeks was also evident in her tone. "I am the only parent that he ahs ever known. He remains my concern."

"That was a mistake that we've rectified."

"Mistake?" The word was spat out. "It may have been a mistake that you lost your wife. It may have been a mistake that you took nearly a lifetime before searching after your son. But for me, finding and raising Jacky has been a blessing from heaven. And no mattter how difficult this situation might appear to your arrogant head, my love for your son will not be called a mistake."

"You misunderstand my intentions."

"Then perhaps you misspoke them."

Draco's impassive eyes glittered dangerously as they measured each other in silence. "You didn't used to be so good at nasty, cutting games," he said, at last.

"I was taught by an expert." She lifted her chin. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his shirt was open at the collar, so that the hollow of his throat showed. His elegant silk tie hung loose around his neck, and Ginny contemplated how delightful it would be to strangle him with it.

"It's been twelve years, hasn't it?" he asked softly.

Ginny didn't answer.

"You have been - happy these years?"

An imperceptible nod.

"I've thought of you often."

Ginny froze, caught up in his mesmerizing gaze. In that moment, if there had been any softening in his expression, any indication at all that he had cared for her twelve years ago, even a little, she might have forgiven him everything.

But his gaze remained flat and impenetrable, and she had not forgotten the bitter lesson she had learned the day he had left her. That loving someone is not enough if he doesn't love you back.

"Have you?" she asked at last, languidly. There was no coyness. "I, too, have thought of you. In the beginning. Then my thoughts moved on to other things."

"And other men, I presume."

Ginny took an unconscious step back. "We are not here to discuss me," she said, haughtily. "It is Jacky I am concerned about."

Clasping his hands behind his back again, he sent her a sharp glance and began to pace again. He didn't need to explain anything to her. He had the power and the legal right to dismiss her and to do exactly as he'd planned. But the recollection of the young boy throwing his arms about her - the nagging thought of the bond that obviously existed between the two - these things gave him pause.

Her voice trembled slightly as she continued. "Jacky needs time to adjust, Draco." He did not miss the change in her tone. "In wealth and comfort there has not been much that I could give him while I have had him, but he has never wanted for affection or love. I have always been prepared to fight his battles with him when other children laughed at his deformed hand or when adults screamed at him cruelly, thinking him ignorant and stupid rather than simply hard of hearing. If fought for him, and I taught him how to fight for himself. I taught him to draw strength from the goodness he carries within, and never surrender to a hardship that burdens him. I taught him that burdens make us stronger. But for all that, he is still only eight years old and far too young to be facing a whole new world of obstacles on his own."

Draco turned sharply toward the window and stared out. In his mind's eye he could still see the little boy that threw himself at his mother. Another image rose in his mind, this of a pale, sickly child playing alone under the same oak.

"I'm asking you, Draco, to allow him to adjust to his new life in steps. Let him feel accepted by you - before I leave him."

The last words caught in her throat, and he did not have to face her to know she had tears in her eyes.

"Very well, Miss Weasley," he said at last, very quietly. "I will do as you ask. And you would do me the honor of staying with us - if you wish it."

The instantaneous change that swept over her was most diverting to observe. She closed her eyes for an instant, joy, sorrow, and relief written plainly on her features, her face like an open window to her soul.

Finally, she nodded and took a step backward toward the door. "Thank you," she whispered, before slipping out.

***

Escaping the room as quickly as she could, Ginny paused in the empty hall and pressed her icy hands to the feverish skin of her face. She felt shaken, spend, and in total chaos over a battle that she appeared to have won. But why was it, then, that she felt so wounded?

The sounds of footsteps on the stairs jarred her from her momentary lapse. Hurriedly, she moved down the well-lighted corridor and slipped into the first of the two rooms that she and Jacky were occupying.

"Mama! You're back!"

Jacky's delighted cry from the doorway and the excited bounce in his step as he came forward, stopping in front of her, made Ginny immediately sweep her troubles aside.

He gave her a formal bow. "Have I cleaned up properly, ma'am?"

She gave him a full curtsey. "Aye, Master John. I'd say you look absolutely stunning."

Ginny blinked back tears and opened her arms as Jacky moved into her embrace. She kissed his freshly brushed hair and looked up to find the serving woman smiling warmly at the two of them.

"Is there anything else you'll be needing now, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny shook her head. As soon as the woman had left the room, though, Jacky started to bombard her with questions.

"Who is it that I have to meet this afternoon?"

Ginny looked into the young boy's upturned face. "Master Malfoy."

"And who is he to you?"

Ginny took a deep breath. "Nothing," she lied. "But - "

"Good!" he shrugged and pulled out of her embrace, walking to the open window. "If he is nobody to us, then maybe we can take another walk."

"Jacky . . ." Ginny moved next to him at the open window, knowing in her heart that she wouldn't be able to find the courage to repeat what she was about to say. Once would be crushing enough. She wanted to be certain the young boy heard her clearly.

"When can we go home again?"

"We just arrived, love."

"I don't like it here. I want to go home."

"I have something very important to tell you, Jacky. It is something that you must know before you see Mr. Malfoy. But what I am about to tell you changes nothing between us. It does not change how much I love you. It . . . it . . ."

The sound of shouting and the clattering a horse's hooves stole Jacky's attention away from her, and her shoulders sagged as the boy leaned out the window.

"Jacky, I . . ." Ginny's heart stopped as she saw what was happening.

A beautiful chestnut-colored stallion was prancing and pulling at reins held somewhat tentatively by a stable hand, and as she watched Draco Malfoy spoke curtly to it. The steed settled down instantly, and he swung up into the saddle easily, turning to say a parting word to Samuel Carlisle.

Standing with her hand on Jacky's shoulder, Ginny felt her heart sink. All the courage she had built up drained out of her in an instant. There was to be no meeting, after all, between father and son this day.

Involuntarily, Ginny's fingers tightened on Jacky's shoulder as she prayed for Draco to look up to the open window. With a final nod at Carlisle, Draco did finally look up. But Jacky was not the recipient of his parting glance.

His piercing gaze fixed only on her face for a moment, and then he was gone.

***