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A Valentine's Day Massacre	By : pittwitch Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 11093 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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
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Chapter Nine

~* Death Be Not Proud *~

With my heart sinking into my stomach, and pounding with panic, I sprinted from that den faster than I had ever flown a broom; with James valiantly trying to keep up with me, I then heard Scorpius, and finally Draco at a more sedate pace.

Arthur raised his head, meeting my eyes, his hand resting on Rose’s shoulder. She peered up at me with tears streaming down her cheeks. Hermione was already holding Lily, who clutched her cloak tightly with both of her tiny, balled fists. Albus stood, biting his lip, holding his Uncle Ron’s hand. He peered up at me with Ginny’s eyes – trusting eyes.

An elf threw my cloak up and over my shoulders. I fastened it with one hand.

Lucius nodded to me gravely, his voice respectfully low. “I dropped the wards. You can Apparate directly from here.” His familiar eyes met mine with true sadness showing through their usually calculating depths.

In my horror, I could scarcely register the difference in his normal aloof posturing. “I am thankful, Mr. Malfoy.” I choked on my words.

“The children and I will come through the Floo,” Arthur added softly, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. He reached out to squeeze my arm – to strengthen me, I suppose.

James tugged at my sleeve insistently. I knew what he wanted.

“I’ll take James with me,” I confirmed.

We all parted ways, James and I heading to the patio to Apparate from an open space. Draco and Scorpius followed us while Lucius led the others to the closest Floo. A tiny house-elf scuttled ahead of all of us to open the doors.

As I stepped out of the manor house, Draco called out in an oddly uncertain voice. “Harry…”

I stopped, half-turned, then caught sight of his stricken features from the corner of my eye and harshly shook my head. No one outside family mattered right then. I didn’t say another word. I couldn’t. I tugged James into me and Side-Along-Apparated us towards yet another twist of my fate with a thunderous and angry crack.

We stumbled together on the landing outside the Hollow. I steadied James, gained my bearings, and bolted for the door. I sped through the living room, paying no heed to the clutter of children everywhere, and skidded through the open door to our bedroom.

Ginny reclined back on a stack of pillows, her hair forming a radiant corona in the candlelight, her face already ephemeral. She was obviously not staying long on my side of the veil. She beamed at me, a light in her eyes like I never had witnessed there.

“Harry!” Her voice was but a mere whisper, yet it echoed in my ears like the roar of a Quidditch crowd.

“Ginny, I…”

She cut me off with an ice-cold finger to my lips.

“Kiss me,” she commanded. I obliged.

“Don’t mourn for me. I’m going somewhere wonderful.” She seemed to glow with an inner radiance. “Your mum and dad are right there, Harry, love.” She pointed at a blank wall. I saw nothing. “And Remus, Tonks, Sirius…” She turned to look at me again. “Can’t you see them?”

Arthur and the others came trundling into the room just then. I cupped her beautiful face as gently as I could with both of my disloyal hands.

“I see,” I whispered with our lips almost touching.

“I’ll always be close,” she whispered again. She perked up briefly, staring into the space over my shoulder. “George! Look it’s Fred! He’s standing right there beside you — leaning on you.” George made a sound reminiscent of a moan trapped within a whine, choking on words that would not pass his lips – simply nodding his agreement. Ginny’s joyful smile pulled one from him as well. “I love you all,” she whispered softly; the kids were lying all over her legs, fighting their own tears.

Lily sniffled loudly. “I love you, Mum.”

I slipped my arm behind Ginny’s shoulders to hold her close once more. She whispered conspiratorially to each of our children, and her entire family came to kiss her sweet freckled cheek once more. Percy was last, his blue eyes glimmering with a watery respect for his sister’s strength. She laid her head against my shoulder, hugged my waist, closed her eyes, and never opened them again. Her smile never faded, though her light did. Arthur and Molly shooed everyone slowly and sadly from the room. I stayed with my wife’s head tucked under my chin, hovering on the brink myself. I sobbed silently into her red hair – not daring to give voice to my railing against the injustice of taking such a wonderful, strong, powerful witch from me, from the world, from her children, her family.

There we stayed until the first rays of bleak mid-winter sun stretched over the horizon.

We gathered on a strangely warm winter day three days thence. I stepped from the black carriage to help the children out and spied, at the very back of all the chairs, almost as if hiding from the others, perhaps only to avoid rubbing elbows with the rabble, four strikingly blond heads. Shuddering, I steeled my features to the proper mourning Savior countenance, clasped my daughter’s hand, and followed a flower-laden casket into the cemetery. I looked neither right nor left as the children and I slowly trudged behind that box now containing only the physical remains of a wonderful woman.

Each dull thud of my leather soles on that cold, frozen ground stabbed through my heart until, as we neared the front of the crowd, the pain exceeded all else, and my entire body went numb. I could feel no more. I think Ron helped me into a chair. Lily crawled into my lap; my boys sat beside me. We listened as three young witches, friends of George from the States, began to sing a song Ginny herself had picked. She had planned every detail. Without accompaniment, the first voice, a lilting soprano trembled forth with two lower pitched voices following shortly after in perfectly blended harmony.

Ye fleeting charms of earth, farewell. Your springs of joy are dry. My soul now seeks another home, a brighter world on high ...

Arthur stood, walking to the lectern to the side of that – box. His eyes were incredibly sad, yet inexorably proud as he gazed out into the crowd. He picked up a single sheet of paper: his eulogy. He gazed at me and our eyes met. I could offer my father-in-law nothing; my heart was dead like the ground beneath my hard wooden chair. He set his notes down, fingering the edge momentarily before he began to speak, his voice carrying for all to hear.

“Today we will bury our Ginny. Her strong heart finally succumbed to the after effects of some unknown curse. She lives on in her legacy – her children, in the effect she had on those around her, and in the good she has done. Remember her not sadly, but fondly. She really did believe she was traveling to a brighter home where she would be with those who have left us already. Rejoice in the excellence of her life. Do not dwell on the sadness of her passing.”

He spoke directly to me, although he glanced around like the skilled public speaker he had become; I knew he spoke only to me. The family formed the line to receive all the condolences and well wishes of the wizarding world assembled to mourn for a woman’s too-short life or to be seen by their Savior. Lily and Hugo became quite restless after the first twenty minutes. Luna, in all her ethereal logic, floated in from behind us, trailing one pale hand in the flowers swaying in the breeze.

“Lily, Hugo, why don’t you come look for Nargles with Lorcan and Lysander?” Absent-mindedly, she tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling benignly at the children.

I nodded to Lily and smiled gratefully at Luna. Somehow, I was surprised to see her wearing shoes. A vision of her standing in the Forbidden Forest, barefoot among the Thestrals, floated to the forefront of my memories.

I heard Hugo ask in all of his child-like innocence as he, too, wandered away with Luna, “Nargles are real?”

I didn’t have to turn and look to know that Lily had elbowed him a bit harder than necessary as Luna floated off to the shrubbery separating the cemetery from the road. Lorcan and Lysander were frolicking to and fro, stopping to peer inside the branches, then flitting off again. I glanced over my shoulder to spy as Lily and Hugo joined them, running pell-mell around the head stones in their quest.

Mindlessly, I shook hands or embraced everyone who came to me, my true self subjugated again to the will of my public. I waited, and waited fruitlessly for one who never came to pay his respects. As the crowd began to thin, I looked around and spotted the Malfoys; Scorpius’ head bent respectfully toward Rose as his father talked to some unmemorable Ministry bureaucrat with his back towards me. Lucius caught my eye as he looked over Draco’s shoulder. The elder Malfoy nodded solemnly, but didn’t approach. Their standoffishness enraged me. How dare they come here to network! Bastards! All of them. Astoria turned from her husband’s side to peer at me smugly behind his back. My lip curled in disgust. I shook my head to clear the red from my vision, focusing on the next lamb in line.

Finally, everyone moved off in small groups, straggling away, leaving me blissfully alone with my real friends and family. I took malicious notice that the blond aristocrats were amongst the last to leave, even though they did not approach me personally. I did see Hermione talking with them quietly when she collected Rose. Fucking bloody bastards, how dare they? How dare HE? How had I dared?

Inevitable Author’s notes: I will discuss Draco and Lucius’ POV in private only. The challenge was to write in first person, so, the story will only show Harry’s view of the events. Email me if you want to know what is rattling around in those silky, smooth, blond-covered heads. I promise to answer. I suppose an email address would help? pittwitch@yahoo.com **The song is a traditional bluegrass-type: Long Time Traveler – the Wailin’ Jennys. I don’t own the song, I’m just borrowing the lyrics and the sentiment.
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A Valentine's Day Massacre