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Unexpected	By : draconisdemented Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Ginny Views: 26235 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 22
- 23
- 24
Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Author's Note: Once again, I do not speak French. I am using
a dictionary/translator on my computer, so I'm aware it won't be perfect. If
you do speak French, I would like to apologize now for any slaughtering of the
language I may have inadvertently caused. Otherwise, what do you care, right?

French translations: ((example))

Side Note 1.) A little over a week ago, I heard that I won
the Best Romance: Unconventional Pairing Award, at the Twisted Colours
Awards!You can see the award here:

Side Note 2.) Fanart for this story had been done bythe
awesome SkotosEnigma, and you can see it at the following address. There are
two pics on the site, one labeled 'Cocidius's Chosen' and one named 'Padma:
Cocidius's Chosen'. So go check it out and her know what an awesome job she
did!

Author's Note: A special thanks to all of those who have
risen to the fanart challenge, it is much appreciated! If anyone else who is
interested, just let me know!

��..

Draco and Blaise had found their plans to leave later that
night ruined an hour or two before dinner, when a house elf had appeared with a
letter in hand, sealed by the British Minister of Magic. It had been addressed
to both them and Virginia, and had told them that their presence was requested
at the Ministry at their earliest convenience. Thinking it something important,
and more than likely something that they were going to have to buy or force
their way out of, they had left a little while later. They hadn't rushed, but
they hadn't taken too long about it either, wanting to get it over with. And
any excuses to blow it off would have looked odd, so away they went.

And what a farce it had been. They had, to their surprise
and suspicion, been greeted jovially, and ushered straight to Cornelius Fudge.
The fact that the man was still in office only solidified their lack of faith
in the Ministry. Useless bunch of nosy shits, if you asked Draco. And Cornelius
Fudge was the worst among them. The man had been in their families' pockets for
years, and still was. He'd fawned all over them most pathetically when they'd entered
his office, before doing the same to Virginia, heaping her in compliments and
congratulating her on her family's return to high society. The look she'd given
him had been beautifully venomous, and he'd finally gotten to the point.

The stupid fool had wanted to surprise them. He thought
they'd be pleased to have a ceremony imposed on them without any notice
whatsoever. A ceremony for what, you might ask? To award them their Order of
Merlin: First Class medals, which they'd been deemed worthy of after the
incident at Hogwarts. The only small comfort they'd had was that their friends
and families hadn't been there to witness it. The ceremony had been pompous and
utterly clich�, and the Ministry officials attending it so scared, yet so unfalteringly
polite, that it had been hard not to laugh in their faces and show them a good
curse or two.

Not to say that they hadn't gotten their revenge for the
whole mess, that damn article included. Fight for the Light. What a bunch of
rubbish. Just because they refused to kneel at a halfblood's feet (the very
idea made him slightly ill), did not mean that they planned to help people they
despised fight some stupid war that they couldn't honestly give a fuck about.
All they cared for was keeping Virginia and their friends safe. If Voldemort
forced them into battle over that issue then so be it, but they wouldn't take
the chance of dying for people that acted so pristine and refined in public,
but that would stab you in the back as quickly as those who saw no point in
hiding what they were.

At least he could respect those who were open about the fact
that they wouldn't think twice about killing you or fucking you over, should
they have the chance. It was those who hid the selfish, self-preserving side within
themselves, a side that everyone possessed, that he despised. Because when it
came down to it, wasn't that what it was all about? Preserving that which meant
the most to you, preserving that which you believed unerringly in? And the
officials at that damned ceremony had been exactly the kind that he could
barely stomach to be around without wishing to end their miserable lives for
them. Simpering, weak fools, every one of them.

And simpering, weak fools had always brought out their
depraved side.

Virginia
hadn't asked any questions when they'd both excused themselves to go to the
loo, but she'd given them a very knowing glance and shaken her head in
resignation, a small smile quirking her lips. Snickering to themselves once
they shielded themselves inside the tile room, they'd quickly called in
everything that they'd thought they would need for their little scene, barely
able to restrain their mirth when they'd rejoined the others. Virginia
had played along superbly, even though she'd been perfectly aware that they
were up to something that was more than likely going to cause quite a bit of a
fuss. Hell, that was probably why she'd played along.

"Virginia?"
Blaise had asked innocently ten or fifteen minutes later, and she'd turned,
bestowing him with a dazzling smile.

"Yes, darling?"

"Would you like something to drink? I was just going to
get myself and Draco a glass of that appealing-looking wine." He'd said
smoothly, and she'd nodded gratefully.

"Oh, that would be wonderful, dear. Do hurry, though.
You know I just can't stand to be away from you for long." She'd replied
in her best pleading-girlfriend voice, amusement dancing in her dark eyes if
you knew how to read them.

Blaise had given her a small, proper bow before gliding
toward the drink table, acting completely oblivious of the eyes that followed
him from all over the room. He'd poured three tall wine glasses and headed back
towards them, and it had begun. Winding through the circular tables that
crowded the room, the others had only seen a woman suddenly stand, her chair
hitting Blaise in the knees and causing him to fall. Draco and Virginia,
however, had seen him plan the move from over ten feet away when he'd noticed
that she was about to rise. Wine had flown everywhere, conveniently not getting
so much as a drop on Blaise's immaculate robes while splashing all over quite a
few others.

"Sweet Hera!" The woman who thought she'd knocked
him over had exclaimed, her eyes wide with fear. "Lord Zabini, are�are you
alright!?" She'd stammered, dropping to her own knees beside him
immediately when she'd noticed Draco and Virginia
moving towards them. Blaise had been holding a black-nailed hand to his head,
which had looked to those closest as if he'd hit it against one of the tables
during his fall. He was quite the actor when he wished to be.

"Non, I don't think I am." He'd said woozily,
letting his midnight blue eyes mist over and appear unfocused, much to the
woman's alarm. Draco and Virginia had come upon them then, the crowd that had
sprung up around Blaise parting to let them through, and they'd kneeled beside
their lover as well. ((No))

"Oh, Blaise, speak to me, honey!" Virginia
had crooned, apparently quite the actress herself. She'd caught on quickly to
their game and had decided to play along, even though she hadn't known exactly
what they were doing. Another wonderful part of the many intriguing aspects
that made up the complex and crafty Virginia Weasley.

"Lord Zabini!?" The woman had called again, her
voice frantic at that point as all sorts of horrible repercussions had run
through her head. It hadn't helped in the least to ease her panic when Blaise
had pulled his hand away and his ivory skin had been stained with blood, his
black hair sticky with it. Gasps had broken out around them, low murmurs
running through the assembly, and the woman had been on the verge of fainting.

"I'll be fine." Blaise had insisted, taking
Draco's offered hand and rising to his feet with them.

He'd swayed a bit for added drama, and that's when it had
happened. Someg log long, thick and slimy had slid out of one of his deep
pockets, hitting the granite floor with a wet 'splat'. The people that had been
surrounding them had grown silent as they'd stared and tried to figure out
exactly what they were seeing. It had fallen in a small, coiled pile, and
wasn't the most easily identifiable thing to an untrained, mortal eye. That had
been Draco's cue to help them along a bit, and he'd sighed exasperatedly before
bending down and picking the section of goat intestine up off the floor. Then
he'd laid his free hand on Blaise's shoulder and spoken gently, yet firmly.

"Blaise, what did we tell you about leaving things like
this at home?" He'd asked, waving the piece of intestine for emphasis.
Quite a few people had jumped back, looking aghast, but they had been far from
done.

"It's mine, damn it!" Blaise had complained,
acting as if were going to snatch it back. Draco had moved to the side nimbly,
avoiding his bloody, grasping hand and tsking.

"You know what our mothers said!" He'd told him,
dropping his voice to a low, yet carrying, whisper. "They said to leave
our toys at home and quit scaring the muggle-lovers! You didn't bring anything
else, did you?"

"You're one to talk, Draco!" Blaise had argued,
ignoring his last question. "You carry more around with you than I do!
Remember that time in Bordeaux?
Thank the gods we were in France!"

"I can't believe you'd bring that up now." Draco
had hissed, shooting a glare at the gawking Ministry officials. "How was I
supposed to know that old hag would try and rob me? The bitch ripped my pockets
open. It wasn't my fault."

"Oh, no." Blaise had sneered nastily.
"Nothing's ever a Malfoy's fault, is it?"

"Don't get me started on blame, Zabini!" Draco had
countered, waving the intestine around wildly. People had gone from disgusted
and appalled to terrified as Draco and Blaise had appeared to become angrier
and angrier, and their fear had spiced the air deliciously.

"S'il vous plait!" Virginia
had cut in, her face a flawless mask of worry and apprehension. "Stop
this! It does not matter, truly. Come, can we not find some accord? Blaise, if
you'd just leave your souvenirs at hom�" ((Please!))

"That's what I'm talking about!" Blaise had cut
her off, looking furious. Not to mention more than a little mad, what with his
head having been split open (by a nail, not some stupid, flimsy table) and
leaking a stream of blood steadily. "It's always 'Blaise, don't try that
on the house elves!', 'Blaise, don't terrorize the Hufflepuffs!', 'Blaise, I'd
really rather you didn't kill all of our friends' dogs!' Blaise, Blaise,
Blaise! Does he ever getaccused of that shit? No! He's just a pretty, perfect,
Malfoy brat!"

"You forgot 'Blaise, don't bring body parts with you in
public'" Draco had snapped, and quite a few of the watching people had
whimpered at the words 'body parts'. Instead of replying, Blaise had given him
a last, enraged glare, before reaching out and ripping the front of Draco's
pockets open. Numerous animal (although those watching didn't know that) organs
spilled out, little bits of blood spraying the shoes of those closest as they'd
tumbled to the floor, and horrified shrieks had split the sir. No one had
moved, though, as if they'd been frozen in place, every eye locked onto the
pile of fleshy tissue. Blaise, naturally, had broken the silence that had
fallen shortly after the screams had stopped.

"Oops. Paint me purple and call me a hag. I'm just so
sorry about that, love." He'd said, not sounding in the least bit
apologetic. They'd planned to just leave then, but Virginia
had added an unthought-of element. No wonder they loved her so much.

"Well," she'd sighed, bending down and scooping up
a gytrash heart off the floor delicately. "I just wish you wouldn't waste
perfectly good food." A second later, sharp deadly fangs had pierced the
heart's left ventricle, and a single trickle of blood had oozed out the side of
her mouth as her eyes had turned utterly black. The people had found their feet
then, and nearly every person in the room had turned and bolted. Unable to
restrain themselves any longer, they'd all burst out laughing, the heart
dropping from Virginia's fingers
to join its comrades on the ground.

"Oh gods." Virginia
had gasped once their snickers had finally started to abate. "There really
is a difference in taste. No wonder we don't feed on animals."

"I can't believe you did that!" Draco had said,
fixing his pockets with a quick repairing spell. "It was perfect!"

"It'll definitely give them something to write
about." Blaise had agreed, healing the small cut on his head with barely
more than a thought.

There had only been a handful of people left in the room,
and every one of them had been people that they knew, and that had been at
their Yule Ball. Most were smirking heavily, knowing full and well what they'd
just done and finding it quite hilarious. One man had broken away from the
small group and come towards them, his eyes scanning the doorway that Aurors
had been sure to pour through soon, his right hand clutching his wand. He was
tall and dark-haired, his eyes as hazel as his son's, and he carried himself
proudly, as befit a wizard of his bloodline. His handsome face had been blank
as he approached them, but his eyes had been lit mischievously.

"My lords, my lady." He'd greeted, giving them a
courtly bow. "I suppose I should simply be grateful that my son was not
with you for this little�escapade?"

"Please, Aldis." Blaise had intoned sarcastically.
"We couldn't have drug Anton away from Pansy so soon after their
engagement even if the world had been about to implode."

"You might not be too far off." Aldis McGregor had
replied, all humor gone from his gaze. "Come with me, even I can hear the
Aurors coming." He'd suggested, and they'd complied, bolting from the room
and leaving the mess on the floor for the Aurors to analyze.

Let the bastards figure out on their own that the organs
were only potion ingredients, rather than the people-pieces they so wanted them
to be. They'd twisted through a few different corridors, avoiding other witches
and wizards as best they could until they'd gotten to Aldis's office. He was
the Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, and the only
reason he'd taken the job when it had been offered was because he enjoyed
working with the Invisibility Task Force so much. He liked almost nothing
better than erecting whole new wizarding towns in the center of muggle ones,
with none of the 'magicless sods', as he fondly referred to them, having any
idea about i all all.

And his dislike of muggles, which was quite understandable,
was what had first convinced him to follow a mad, brilliant man that had
claimed to be a pureblood and had sworn that he would stop the slowly
encroaching dilution of the bloodlines. He hadn't, though, as his madness had
outweighed his brilliance, and still did. Voldemort was anything but rational.
But some of the purebloods had listened to him, had joined him, and at first,
it had been because they had believed in the cause that he promoted. Voldemort
had treated his Death Eaters fairly at first, and they hadn't even been called
Death Eaters in the beginning. They'd been the Revisionists.

They'd been young, their heads full of revolution and
revitalization, and they'd dreamed of restoring their people to their old
honor, their old glory. They'd dreamed of erasing the black scar that had been
left by the Gods' Abandonment, of destroying the sick, festering wound of the
Inquisition and the Burning Days. But the more power Voldemort had gained, the
more his lunacy had become apparent. That's when Lucius and Jeran had
discovered his secret. Voldemort was no pureblood, but the half-breed bastard
of a worthless muggle. They had confronted the Dark Lord, after having told
only a few select people, Aldis among them.

Their decision to go in that room that day, accusations
pouring from their lips like acid, had changed thte ote of everyone. Voldemort
had panicked, seeing his downfall as his powerful friends had turned their
backs on him, and he had called on the Bane. The full force of its tainting
effects had been focused on Lucius and Jeran, but the others of the first,
second and third circles that had been there that fateful day had also been
twisted to different degrees. That unleashing had birthed the first of many
Dark Marks, had branded pure skin and twisted pure flesh until it was blackened
and smoking, a vile sacrilege against their gods and their beliefs.

Voldemort had no longer ruled out of fairness after that,
but had learned to wield his favorite weapon of all in order to control those
that he'd once called friend and brother. Fear. Their names had changed, their
purpose had changed, and they had lost all sense of themselves, of who they
truly were. Any lingering honor and glory vanished, their cunning minds dulled
and their ambitions thwarted beyond serving their new master's whims. Those in
the first circle, the elite of the elite, had been the only ones to escape
Voldemort's regular punishments, and a few of them had started to remember
after a long while, had started to break through the diseased fog clouding
their minds.

That remembrance had nearly broken them, as they'd seen what
they'd become. Slaves to a mudblood, the ancient pride of their families
shattered every time they kneeled. It had been too much for many of them, and
they'd spent days, weeks, trying to scrub and cut the foul Marks from their
bodies, trying anything they could to cleanse themselves while begging their
gods and their ancestors alike for forgiveness. They hadn't succeeded, of
course, as the Mark would be there permanently, even if it was carved out with
the sharpest of knives. And who knew if they had been forgiven? They hadn't
thought so, and so they'd taken their last stand.

Some of their number hadn't broken free of the Bane's hold,
a few because it was too strong, and a few because they didn't wish to. Those
who had, though, had gotten together and planned their largest deception, their
last great act before their deaths, or so they'd thought. With sly whispers and
returned cunning, they had egged the Dark Lord on harder than ever before,
increasing his belief in the rumors surrounding the Potter boy. Then one night,
their pushing had reached its peak when Pettigrew came through. The rat had
used a compulsion charm made by the best among them, and had secured his place
as the Potters' Secret-Keeper.

Voldemort, blinded by what he assumed would be an easy
victory, had been careless, and his vengeance-seeking Death Eaters had taken
their opportunity. A curse had been cast upon his wand, undetectable until it
was too late, and three of their number had perished in its making. It had been
set to go off the next time he turned his wand on a creature that was purely
innocent, and Harry Potter had been that creature. Both would have died had
everything gone according to plan, but Voldemort would have been dead, truly
dead. They had not counted on Lily invoking an old, forgotten form of
protection, one that, while saving Harry, had also saved the Dark Lord.

Victorious and yet defeated, the Death Eaters had retreated,
going back to their estates and preparing themselves for the trials they'd
known were coming. Turning on many, but not all, of those still mad from the
Bane's influence, they'd secured and kept their places in society, waiting and
watching, knowing Voldemort still lived somewhere, someway. Draco and Blaise's
mothers had explained all of this to them in whispers and dark rooms after
their forth year, when the Dark Lord had been resurrected. Far from their
husbands' all-hearing ears, they'd lifted their sleeves and shown their sons
the filthy, blasphemous brands on their pale skin, had shown them their
disgrace.

Neither Draco nor Blaise had ever been more disgusted or
ashamed in their entire lives.

They hadn't spoken a word to anyone for for weeks after
that, trying to absorb what they'd been told, what they had seen. It had seemed
impossible at first, for how could such strong, dark, pureblooded witches and
wizards ever bow to a mudblood? How had they been able to stomach groveling at
one's feet? How could they have disrespected the gods in such an unthinkable
way? For millennia, their families had stood strong, so what had happened?
Then, one night when Lucius and Jeran had come home after a meeting with their
returned Lord, drunk and loud and angry, they had realized how. Their fathers
were simply weak, infected, rotten.

They had suspected before, of course, having seen the
differences in the way they were raised compared to the way some of their friends'
had been, but it hadn't become so crystal clear until that night. Their fathers
had told them many things about the Dark Lord's plans, as they had been bent on
having them join him, and they had listened carefully. Many of his old Death
Eaters had gone back to him, not really having a choice since he was a Dark
Lord, after all, but their fathers' had ranted ceaselessly about how so many of
them just didn't have their hearts in it anymore. Not that surprised, the
wheels had already started turning on how Draco and Blaise could use that to
their advantage.

And use it they had. Throwing themselves into their studies
even more, they'd quickly outstripped even their fathers in their spellwork,
and had proven themselves on their sixteenth birthdays, dueling in front of an
assembly of the gathered nobility. Talk had started then, rumors abounding
about how powerful they had become, and eight months later, their fathers were
mysteriously dead and they the sole heirs to everything. Using the time
immediately afterwards well, they had cod contacted those in the first and
second circles who their mothers had told them were part of the last rebellion.
And so were born their spies, Aldis McGregor included.

And now, seated across from him on a soft, black leather
couch, they waited for his news.

"There has been much brewing at Nor Gorgun these last
few nights." Aldis said, referring to the Dark Lord's fortress. The room
had been shielded by Draco and Blaise ages ago, to ensure that what was
discussed privately inside it stayed private.

"Really? Upset his little stunt in Paris
didn't work out, is he?" Draco asked, a cruel smirk on his icy lips. Aldis
gave the barest of nods.

"You could say that." The man agreed. "Has
Badru given you my latest missive?"

"We haven't spoken to him since the Yule Ball."
Blaise replied, while Draco leaned over and discreetly washed the drying blood
from his hair with his fingertips. These new Elemental tricks are quite useful,
he thought idly, waiting for Aldis to continue.

"Someone, as I'm sure you've noticed by now, has been
giving the Dark Lord information about you, and he's become more obsessed with
every new thing that he learns. He wants the two of you to join him, no matter
the cost, and he wants to break you before admitting you into his ranks. But
the reason I needed to talk to you now is because of what I heard the Dark Lord
speaking to�someone about. I'm not sure who, or if there was really even anyone
else there, because I never heard anyone else talking. He's been doing that for
a while now; talking to shadows and empty rooms." The older wizard told
them, his face grave.

"And what did you hear?" Virginia
questioned, causing his familiar eyes to drift to her.

"I can now confirm that he has not regained his full
power." Aldis said, and all three of them sat up straighter, their full
attention on the man in front of them. "To do so, he needs a key. A key
that he himself made years ago, when he suspected treachery. It was put inside
a treasure of his, one of his greatest works. That treasure was destroyed, and
the key switched hosts."

"And does he know where this key is now?" Blaise
asked, the dark purple flecks in his cerulean eyes becoming more vivid.

"Oh, yes." Aldis said, and they didn't like the
disquieting glint in his eyes. "He most certainly does. But you possess
it." They froze.

"Do we? And how is that?" Draco finally demanded,
and the other wizard fidgeted suddenly, as if this were the part that he hadn't
wanted to talk about.

"Because she is the key." Aldis finally said,
nodding at Virginia.

��..

Pansy checked the time again, wondering what was keeping her
friends at the Ministry for so long. She was less than a minute from flooing
Satordi and going down there herself, when Draco, Blaise and Virginia slid out
of the fireplace. She knew instantly that something was wrong, as Draco and
Blaise looked utterly furious, and Virginia was paler than usual, her eyes wide
with disbelief. Pansy and Anton stood, going to them immediately, while Draco
went straight for the liquor cabinet. One bottle was tossed at Blaise, another
at Virginia, and a third disappeared down Draco's throat in record time. Yes,
something was definitely wrong.

"What happened?" Anton asked, checking them over
quickly for any injuries. When he found them hale and whole, he asked again.
Instead of responding, Draco walked to one of the controlling plaques on the
study's far right wall, slicing his hand and laying it palm down before
speaking words that had them going on guard instantly.

"Activate the main wards and start locking-down."
He said, and the stones of the Manor grumbled in response. His next words ran
through the stone, reaching every ear on the grounds in a widening circle.
"Everything on two legs is to be inside the Wall within a half hour. The
floo will not be accessible, and all owls will stay grounded until further
notice. The border guard is to be doubled immediately, and I want half of the
Dementors and the Nundu inside the Wall as well. The house elves are released
from the ties on their defense magic until I say otherwise, and I want the
heads of both covens in my study as soon as possible. Everything else with
fangs and claws are to patrol outside the Wall and raise the alarm at the first
sign of anything suspicious. Seal the main gate and the Sea Gate; loose the
dragons and release the mer-riders and their hunting sharks. Nothing comes in
and nothing goes out. Kill any that attempt either one. I repeat, you have half
an hour."

Then he fell onto one of the green divans, summoning another
bottle of liquor as his lovers fell down beside him. Pansy and Anton stared,
speechless for a long moment, before they both fell onto one of the plush
cushions. A full minute didn't pass before Padma and the twins were bursting in
the door, rushing to the others at once and dropping to their knees on the rug
in front of them. The leaders of the pride of great cats, Letalis and his mate,
Nakira, came in at their heels, their oldest male cub bounding along behind
them and leaping straight into Virginia's lap, where it always seemed to be
happiest. Another minute passed, and Narcissa, Silana, Severus, Sirius and the
Weasleys poured in as well.

"What's going on? Is someone going to attack?"
Narcissa demanded, before catching sight of her son and his lovers, who were
slowly but surely getting themselves as drunk as possible. "What on
earth�Is that�is that firewhiskey!?"

"How very observant of you, Mother." Draco replied
dryly, his mercury eyes still angry even as they started to glaze.

"Why are you locking the Manor down? What's
happening?"

"Nothing." He said, and she looked confused before
he added, "Yet, that is."

"Would you quit speaking in riddles and tell me what in
the hell's going on?" She asked, and he and Blaise both laughed, a
slightly hysterical note in their velvety tones. Melody, Daphne, Crabbe and
Goyle entered the room unnoticed by most, and the same Nundu that had stayed in
Draco's room after the Paris incident paced in afterwards. It went straight to
Draco and Blaise and nuzzled their hands, its jaw tightly shut so as not to
harm anyone with its poisonous breath, before it curled up at their feet in an
enormous pile of spotted fur.

"We are being hunted." Blaise said in a lilting,
singsong voice, downing another half a bottle of the potent alcohol. Everyone
grew completely silent at those words, and some had looks of shock crossing
their faces, others dawning realization.

"By whom?" Silana finally asked, even though her
eyes said she already knew.

"Who do you think? But we," he motioned to himself
and Draco, "are more like an added bonus should he succeed in his main
quest." Something in his voice made the hairs on the back of Pansy's neck
stand up, and she clutched Anton's hand tightly in her own.

"His 'main quest'? What is that beyond his yearning for
domination?" Silana questioned, looking at her son. But Virginia was the
one who answered her.

"Me." She said, giggling slightly as she, too,
poured more liquor down her throat. Feeling as if she were suffocating, Pansy
could do nothing but listen as she explained. "I just had to write in that
damned diary, you see. His key." She spat out the last word, not seeming
to see her family and friends' appalled looks.

"'His key'? Baby, what are you talking about?"
Molly asked, beginning to look truly scared, as if her worst fear was coming to
fruitation right before her eyes.

"What I mean, mummy dearest, is that he needs me, needs
my blood. His diary was his key to a piece of his power that he locked away,
and when the diary was destroyed, I became the key's new host since I was bound
to the book by then, bound to him." She said, and Molly swayed, Bill and
Arthur barely catching her before she hit the floor. They sat her gently in a
chair, looking shell-shocked themselves, and no one spoke for a tense, strained
moment.

Then, "So is he coming?" Daphne asked, her soft
voice seeming unbearably loud in Pansy's pounding head.

"It's doubtful." Blaise said, opening yet another
bottle of firewhiskey. "But then again, he's fucking bonkers, so who
knows? He might try his luck. But even he can't get to us here." A knock
sounded outside, before a banshee and a hag both came in the door, their
statures regal and their eyes feral, bristling at whatever threat to their home
had their masters tightening the security even more than it usually was.

"You called?" The hag questioned in a raspy voice,
and Draco nodded.

"Fan the covens out through the Manor and contact your
sisters at Tenebre Stella. It's to be locked down as well, along with the other
estates. Secure Willow Bright while you're at it; that damn article comes out
tomorrow." He said, and they left immediately while his hand wrapped
itself in Virginia's crimson hair as she laid her head on his shoulder. Her
hand was clasped in Blaise's, and she moved her legs up onto his lap as she
pulled a slim, silver case out of her pocket, causing the cat on her lap to
leap lightly to the floor and curl up underneath her. A small, black cigar
seemed to light itself when she took a heavy drag off the end, and scented
smoke was rushing from between her lips a few long seconds later. Bill was the
first to comment, as the others seemed to either understand or just not notice.

"Ginny, when did you start smoking?" He inquired,
just a hint of disapproval in his big-brother tone.

"When I snagged these from Sirius on our way to the
Ministry earlier." She clarified, and Pansy managed a small smile when she
saw Sirius pat his pocket and then groan. "I just knew today was going to
be completely fucked."

"Ginny." He stressed, glancing at their semi-aware
mother to see if she'd noticed the girl's less-than-polite language. "And
you really shouldn't. It's a bad habit." He said once he turned back to
her, and Virginia laughed.

"Why?" She asked, taking another deep drag and a
long swig off of Blaise's bottle. "I'm a witch; it's not like they'll turn
my teeth yellow or give me nasty muggle breath. And they're definitely not
going to kill me. No, I'm almost positive at this point that my death is
destined to be violent and bloody. Interesting possibilities there, don't you
think?" She questioned, and Bill, Charlie, Ron and her father looked at
her as if she'd gone mad, while her friends and the twins said nothing.

"Don't talk that way, Ginny." Her mother mumbled,
sitting up straighter. "Don't talk about dying as if it were a joke."

"You're right, Mother, as usual. I'm going to live
forever." Virginia intoned, her voice slightly off and just a bit spooky.
She and her boyfriends were quite wasted at that point, and Pansy was beginning
to worry just what they might get careless enough to say. Or do. In fact, it
would probably be best to get them away from anyone whose sensibilities were
easily horrified as soon as possible.

"Ginny�" Her mum started, but Virginia cut her
off, giggling again and accidentally incinerating her cigar, the whole thing
falling to ash in her fingers.

"No, really, Mum." She insisted, and Pansy groaned
inwardly. "I'm going to live forever and ever as long as Tom doesn't get
me."

"Ginny! Don't say that nam�" Her father began to
berate, but Molly waved him silent, looking at her daughter strangely.

"No one lives forever, honey." Her mother said
gently, obviously thinking that Virginia was in shock. And maybe she was. The
alcohol wasn't helping, at any rate. But who were they to deny her and her
lovers a drink? They weren't being hunted by a Lord of the Dark, after all.

"Oh, but I will." Virginia crooned, sliding off
her boyfriends and to her feet. She barely made it to her mother without
falling, and she dropped cross-legged to the floor, somehow still graceful even
while smashed. Blaise's bottle was still in her hand, not that it mattered
since he'd long since gotten another.

"What are you talking about, Ginny?" Molly asked,
and her daughter smiled, lifting one hand and running a finger along her
mother's cheek before letting her hand drop back to her side. Another goodly
portion of the alcohol she was holding disappeared, and she sat the bottle to
the side.

"I can heal almost anything now, mama." Virginia
said, and she had that dark glint in her eyes that Pansy knew could be leading
nowhere good. "You wanna see?" Nowhere good at all. She shared a
quick look with Padma and the twins, and saw their helpless, slightly amused
looks. Draco and Blaise simply watched Virginia, their eyes never leaving her
for the barest moment.

"See what, baby?" Molly questioned, her eyebrows
knitting together in a concern. But Virginia just smiled again, took out her
boot knife in the blink of an eye, and impaled her right hand with it. Pansy
moaned and covered her eyes. Fabulous. Absolutely bloody fabulous. Letting her
hand fall away, she watched her best friend pull the knife out smoothly while
her mother, her father and three of her brothers watched in complete
stupefaction.

"What the fuck, Ginny�" Ron started, but a glare
from her stopped him from finishing.

"Was I talking to you, snake boy? I didn't think
so." She said dismissively, unmindful of her bleeding hand. Turning back
to her mother, she frowned when she saw her face.

"What's wrong, Mum?"

"What's wrong!? Ginny, your hand�!"

"But I told you, I can heal it." She said, tilting
her head to the side and regarding her mother with eyes that kept focusing and
unfocusing. Her mother grew still, looking right back at her daughter, and
something seemed to dawn on her.

"Doesn't it hurt?" She asked softly, staring at
the wounded hand. Pansy was slightly surprised the woman hadn't grabbed it and
demanded to see, huffing and fussing like she normally would have.

It probably had something to do with the circumstances and
the wild, yet serene (thank you, Padma, Pansy thought absently), look in her
daughter's eyes. Glancing back at Blaise and Draco, Pansy saw the same in
theirs, but more. That fierce, deadly fury was still raging underneath the
surface, and she realized that Padma was doing her damnedest to leash it, her
own eyes glazed in concentration. Sirius seemed to be watching the same thing
Pansy was, and she saw him get up and go sit by Draco and Blaise, whispering
something to them in a low, deep voice. They might have been listening, but
their gazes never left their girlfriend, as if they feared that she would
disappear.

"Hurt?" Virginia asked, sounding confused for a
moment. "No, mama, it doesn't hurt. It's n in in a way." Tears
sprang up in Molly's eyes, and she watched silently as Virginia closed the
wound instantly, not so much as the tiniest scar marring her flesh. "See?
I told you. You don't have to worry about me anymore." But Molly didn't
seem to hear those last words, her gaze still locked on Virginia's hand.

"What have they done to you, baby?" She asked, her
voice barely even audible. Pansy stiffened, as did Anton and the twins, while
Virginia glanced at her lovers, who said nothing. A thin layer of sweat had
broken out across Padma's forehead, and Pansy was starting to get worried.

"Done to me?" Virginia questioned. "They have
done nothing except make me whole. It's the shifter blood Cocidius gifted me
with that healed me." She said, not lying, but not telling the whole truth
either.

mal>

"Bullshit." Ron grumbled, and for once, no one
shut him up immediately, so he continued. "I don't know what's gotten into
all of you lately," he said, glaring at his family, "but you all seem
to have forgotten who and what they are. I'm the only one around here with any
bloody sense anymore, and the fahat hat you can't see what's right in front of
you is scary."

"What are you babbling about now?" Charlie asked,
his patience with his youngest brother beginning to wear thin.

"Oh, has the darling princess of our family not told
you yet?" Ron asked mockingly, and Pansy felt her sense of unease creep up
a notch. Virginia was staring at her brother blankly, and Pansy knew then that
Virginia knew exactly what was about to come out of his mouth, and she saw the
first bit of hate stir in her best friend's eyes.

"Not told us what?" Bill asked, looking between
Ron and Virginia. Ron looked his sister straight in the eyes, hesitated for the
briefest moment, and then broke her trust for the final time.

"They're vampires." He said, his voice ringing
through the sudden silence. "You've been letting her date bloody fucking
vampires, and you're asking why she's healing so fast. I would think it was
pretty obvious."

"Shut up." Anton hissed, his eyes bright with
anger. "Just shut up."

"Fuck off, McGregor." Ron spat, his face turning
redder by the moment. Virginia continued to stare at him, and he snapped.
"Stop looking at me like that! I didn't do anything to you! You brought
this on yourself, you bitc�" He never got to finish, as George was just
suddenly there, his fist slamming into Ron's jaw and sending him flying
backwards. Fred and Anton were standing over him a moment later when he landed,
his head hitting the stone floor hard.

"One more fucking word." Fred warned. "Just
one more, and I swear to every god I can name that we'll make you sorry."

cla class=MsoNormal>

"Fred! George!" Arthur exclaimed. "Both of
you stop it right now! You too, Ronald!"

"I hate you." Virginia's voice sliced through the
low noise, and everyone turned to look at her but for Padma and Sirius, both of
whom were still caught up in their tasks. But she had eyes only for Ron, who
looked back at her through strands of rusty copper hair, his nose busted and
his jaw dislocated. There was no Hermione to drop to her knees and heal him
immediately this time, and his mother was too distracted and stunned to tear
her eyes away from her daughter.

"Ginny�" Molly started, but Virginia wasn't
listening.

"I hate you." She repeated, meeting Ron's eyes
unflinchingly, her own burning and loathing. "You're sad and deficient,
infantile and crude, and I find you quite pathetic. It shall be a joy to me
when I no longer have to see you again, and I shall revel in your absence. I
resent you more than Percy, you know. At least he had the balls to try what he
did. And then he died. But you�You're a living, breathing nightmare that won't
seem to fade. The fact twe swe share blood sickens me."

Silence. And then someone knocked on the door.

"Come in." Narcissa called, and a smirking banshee
sauntered in, giving Narcissa a sweeping curtsey before speaking.

"The Hunted One has been found and brought within the
Wall as ordered for all two-legged creatures. He's still breathing, but I could
fix that."

"No, no." Narcissa sighed, and Ron started pulling
himself to his feet. His mother finally looked over at him and gasped,
motioning him over so she could patch his face up. "Just�take him to his
rooms, I suppose. I know Sirius will want to go sem inm in a bit. Get a house
elf to heal anything life-threatening, as well."

"As you say, Lady." The banshee replied, and spun
on a heel, leaving and shutting the door behind her once more. Virginia rose to
her feet without a word, grabbing the bottle she'd discarded earlier and
draining it before walking over to her lovers and Padma. She laid a hand on
each of her boyfriends' necks and leaned in, whispering something. Both blinked
once, twice, and then moved slowly, as if in a dream, rising to their feet with
her. Fred and George went back to Padma's side, helping her to her feet, and
she moved with the same unreal quality that Draco and Blaise were.

"What's wrong with them?" Molly asked in a small
voice, and her daughter's eyes drifted back to her.

"Nothing's wrong with them." She said, taking her
lovers' hands in hers. "Padma's just blocking their rage from spilling
over. Be thankful; you would not want them fully active and aware right
now."

"That's an understatement if I've ever heard one."
The twins murmured, and those were the last words they heard from them before
all six left the room without a backwards glance.

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