Fic: Hospitality - 13/? - M - Draco/Ginny
Title: Hospitality
Author: humbuggirl
Pairing: Draco/Ginny
Rating: R (M) - eventually
Chapter Word Count: 4,650
Summary: “There was no snide quip though. No deliberately cutting comment. Ginny stared and then a second later the grey eyes rolled dramatically and turned away from her towards the tasteless curtains.” Post-war fic. Ginny was just plodding along, enduring her perfectly well-ordered normal life and dreaming that maybe something more interesting might come along. She just never thought that the ‘something’ might actually turn out to be a ‘someone’.
Spoilers: HBP
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
1: Paperwork
2: The Good Life
3: Cures and Conundrums
4: Escape, with Sandwiches
5: Night Owls
6: Bookworm
7: A Slytherin Sunday
8: Getting Better
9: History Class and French Lessons
10: Paint the Night with Colour
11: Sleep Softly
12: Blood and Lazy Bones
Part Thirteen: Case History
Hermione shifted uneasily - abruptly incapable of looking Ginny in the eye. She stared at her clasped hands as they rested on the table and said nothing in reply. Ginny realised sharply that her old friend had managed to accidentally reveal something that she should not have - or at least something that she had not planned to reveal. If Hermione had hoped that the Ginny would be willing to let the subject drop though then she was wrong. The redhead had spent the last few weeks obsessing over what was wrong with Draco Malfoy and she was not about to give up now that she was so close to finding out the truth.
“’Mione?” Ginny said, pressing gently. She kept her voice low, trying not to sound as eager as she actually felt, while hoping that by doing so the other witch would feel relaxed enough to be open with her.
In response, Hermione sucked in a deep breath before beginning to gnaw at her bottom lip in a familiar concerned fashion. It was an expression that Ginny had seen time and time again since they had first met at school, and one that she did not like very much. When Hermione again turned to look at Ginny however, there was a determined, almost businesslike, look on her face that the redhead tended to associate with a completely different setting. Hermione was once again her professional self.
“I don’t think you can really understand what is happening to Malfoy unless you know a little bit about him,” she began cautiously.
Ginny cocked her head to one side, immediately intrigued. She remained silent however, waiting for Hermione to continue. The thought that she might accidentally say something that would cause Hermione to clam up again was terrifying.
“Has he mentioned anything to you about how he came to be in his current predicament?” Hermione asked.
“No,” Ginny replied, frowning slightly as she did so. “Well, he mentioned that he’s broke. Oh, and that he’s pretty much a social pariah - but that isn’t exactly news, I suppose. Other than that he hasn’t really said anything, though.”
Hermione nodded thoughtfully. This was apparently how she had expected Ginny to respond. “Did you hear much about what happened to Malfoy after the war?” she asked.
“I can remember his name being mentioned once or twice, but I didn’t hear any of the specifics. To be honest, I didn’t care that much. I was too busy trying to get my life on track and by that time I wasn’t really that much involved with the fighting and the politics.”
The corner of Hermione’s mouth curled up slightly. “I know.” At the look on Ginny’s face, she quickly added, “That’s not a criticism, Ginny. I understand perfectly that you didn’t want to get involved in the political machinations that followed - I didn’t really want to myself, to be honest. It was sort of unavoidable, though. Besides, there were a lot of witches and wizards who chose to just let the ministry get on with sorting out the mess the remaining Death Eaters created.”
Ginny smiled at her reassuringly even though inside she was still smarting slightly. Hermione might not have meant anything by her comment, but she had managed to stir up a host of old emotions in her friend. There had been more than one person who had asked after the war why Harry Potter’s precious former lover was not working right alongside the hero and her family to put the ministry back on its feet. More than once Ginny had been forced to bite her tongue so that she did not knock some nosey reporter right off their feet.
The kettle whistled, breaking the silence as it signalled that the water was ready. Ginny turned to the counter and set about making the tea while Hermione continued.
“Malfoy was one of the last Death Eaters to be brought before the Wizengamot - although he was actually captured some months before the end,” she said, glancing towards Ginny even though the redhead still had her back to the table. “Tiberius Ogden was presiding that day, and that is probably all that stopped Malfoy from being sent straight back to Azkaban. He didn’t get off lightly though. They stripped him of every single piece of property that the Malfoy family had owned before the war. Every house, business, book and piece of furniture was taken by the ministry as reparations for the harm that Malfoy and his family caused during the war.”
After pausing briefly, she continued, “It was horrible, really. I was there since Harry and Ron had insisted on going. They systematically listed every single holding that Malfoy had to his name before taking it away from him. Before they were even halfway through, I half thought that he was going to drop dead on the spot from a heart attack. By the time that they were through, all that he was left with was one tiny vault at Gringotts. They wanted to take that as well, but a few of the other Wizengamot members objected.”
“He was lucky,” Ginny observed, placing a cup of tea down in front of Hermione. She slipped into the seat adjacent to the woman and peered at her expectantly, eagerly anticipating the next part of the story. So far, she had heard nothing too terrible - certainly nothing that would explain Malfoy’s peculiar illness.
“Yes, he was,” Hermione agreed then sipped her tea. “I don’t know too much about what happened to him after that,” she admitted. “Most of the things I know, I’ve had to figure out for myself. You may have noticed that he is not the most open of people. I can tell you that when he first turned up at the hospital looking for treatment he was almost certainly not in the same situation as he is now. Personally, I suspect that he used up what money he was left with looking for a cure to his illness.”
Ginny raised an eyebrow, feeling a flutter of excitement in her stomach. This was it - this was what she had been waiting for.
“His records indicate that, up until three months prior to first being admitted to St Mungo’s, he was being treated at the Rosewood Clinic. Unfortunately, they don’t tell us much more. While there, he underwent a barrage of tests but they could find nothing significant - or at least nothing that hinted at the true nature of his condition.” Hermione gave her a knowing look - one which was tainted with disapproval. “I suspect that it was their extortionate fees which forced him to eventually take the free treatment on offer at St Mungo’s.”
“He’s been ill for years, then?” Ginny asked. “This isn’t something recent?”
“It’s possible that he was already ill when the war ended,” Hermione acknowledged with another nod of her head. “Once or twice I’ve tried asking him questions to pinpoint precisely when he started to feel the effects, but he’s been just as evasive about that as he has been about everything else. It’s frustrating.”
The redhead pursed her lips, and said, “Do you… do you think it might be something that he might have picked up during the war?”
Her enquiring tone was enough to make Hermione look up sharply. It was not until she did so that Ginny realised that she may have made a mistake.
“What makes you say that?” Hermione asked curiously.
Ginny shrugged her shoulders and thought swiftly. “You said that he had probably been ill since before the war finished - I just wondered whether that meant that something might have happened to him during it. I mean, you hear all sorts of talk about veterans still suffering from some of the curses they were hit with - we even see then at the hospital. Ex-Death Eaters must be in just the same situation as Order members and Aurors.”
Hermione nodded, but then said, “I would be surprised if Malfoy’s illness proved to be the result of a curse - or, at least, of a conventional one. It’s too strange, and we would undoubtedly have seen it in other patients as well. My current theory is that it is something relating to a hereditary condition.”
“Wouldn’t that mean that his mother or father would have had it as well though?” Ginny asked.
“If only that was the case. I’ve questioned Malfoy closely on the matter but he doesn’t seem very willing to volunteer information about that either. I’ve managed to get my hands on Narcissa Malfoy’s medical records but they reveal very little. It seems that the woman hardly ever wanted or needed to visit a physician. Lucius Malfoy’s records were apparently destroyed during the rioting in Azkaban during the war. His grandparents have all been dead for years, so turning up their information has been virtually impossible. The closest I’ve come to discovering anything at all useful in the case of Abraxas Malfoy is his obituary, and that doesn’t exactly say much. Apparently he died of dragon pox anyway.”
Hermione paused, drawing in a deep breath before sipping her tea. “It could be something stemming from years back… It could have skipped a few generations. Until Malfoy chooses to tell me whether his ancestors had anything similar then I honestly couldn’t say for certain. It’s most likely it comes from the Malfoy line. I mean, I asked Harry to let me hunt through the family chronicles in the library at Grimmauld Place to see whether it might be something inherited from the Black family but there wasn’t anything in keeping with Malfoy’s symptoms. Do you know anything about genetics?”
Ginny shook her head slightly, even as her mind flitted back to the research that she had done at Hermione’s apartment. She knew what Hermione was now talking about was closely related to the books that she had found by accident - the ones that related to Pureblood breeding habits. Beyond that thought, she honestly did not think that she knew anything.
“Right,” Hermione said. “Well, in the last few decades, Muggles have spent considerable amounts of time and money investigating finding out why some diseases run in families and others don’t. In some cases, part of the reason seems to be because genes they’ve inherited from their parents. Genes are…”
“I know what they are,” Ginny interrupted impatiently. She flushed slightly at the surprised look that appeared on Hermione’s face. Offering her friend a small smile, she added, “You forget who my Dad is, Hermione. He used to read textbooks about that stuff to us like they were full of nursery rhymes.”
“Oh, right. Then I suppose you realise that it can be possible for someone to be a carrier of a disease even if they don’t actually suffer from it?” At Ginny’s nod, Hermione continued, “Well, I think that there’s a possibility that Lucius Malfoy was a carrier of the disease that his son is suffering from, and that something happened to Malfoy to make it active. It could be that it’s linked to a recessive gene, meaning that it would not be active unless Narcissa Malfoy was also a carrier. Or,” she added, “It could be that something happened to activate what would have been a benign mutation of his genetic code, therefore causing him to become ill.”
Ginny silently leaned back on her seat, rubbing her hands down her thighs nervously. As Hermione had been talking, it had become impossible not to realise exactly how serious Malfoy’s situation really was. Hermione seemed to be suggesting was that Malfoy’s illness was one which could be far from common in the magical world.
When she opened her mouth next, she found herself repeating the same question that she had asked earlier. “Is he dying then?”
Hermione sighed deeply and dipped her eyes. For a second, Ginny thought that she was not going to answer, but then the brunette nodded her head. “Unless I can figure out exactly what is wrong with him and find a suitable treatment then, yes, there is a very real possibility that he will die.”
Ginny sucked in a deep breath, abruptly feel nauseous. There was a painful knot in the middle of her chest that seemed to make her heart race. She knew that all the blood must have drained from her features. Unconsciously, she brought her arms up and hugged herself.
“How long does he have?” she asked quietly.
“To be completely honest I’m not actually sure… It could be anywhere between six months and six years. Leaving the hospital certainly did not help, and living on the streets has only compounded that.”
Ginny stared hard at Hermione for a moment before tearing her eyes away from the woman. For a moment, a peculiar sense of resentment had begun to form inside her mind. In school, and even after they had left, Hermione had always known precisely the right answer to everything - whether it concerned potions homework or defying Voldemort. It was what she had been famous for. The thought that she did not know how to make Malfoy well again was strangely disturbing. Ginny tried hard not to think of why that was exactly.
She pushed down the feeling, realising how ridiculous it really was. Hermione could hardly help the fact that figuring out what was wrong with Malfoy was difficult. She certainly could not help the fact that he was being uncooperative while she attempted to do so.
Ginny frowned slightly as her mind turned to thoughts of the man in her lounge. Now that Hermione had told her about his illness - or rather why she thought he was ill - Ginny realised that she had another question. Why was Malfoy being uncooperative? It did not make any sense. The boy that she had known at Hogwarts had valued his personal safety and health above all other things. Refusing to tell his physician about what had happened to him - about his family medical history - was hardly going to benefit him.
She briefly toyed with the idea that it might simply be because he did not want Hermione to know the truth, but then she dismissed the thought. Malfoy was smart enough to realise that Hermione might well be his only way of regaining his health. But if that was the case then why was he not taking full advantage of the fact that he effectively had her at his beck and call? That was hardly the type of behaviour that Ginny would have expected from someone so innately cunning and ambitious - from someone so Slytherin.
“There are certain medicines that he requires,” Hermione said, dragging Ginny out of her thoughts and back into the kitchen. “If he’s going to stay here then I would appreciate it if you would ensure that he does so.”
Ginny frowned slightly. “I said that he could stay the rest of the day, Hermione. I never said anything about staying longer. He never said that he would do so, either.”
A sly smile filtered onto the brunette’s face. “You’re going to let him though, aren’t you? I saw your face when he threatened to leave before, Ginny. You’re not going to let him walk out that door any time soon.”
Her frown deepened, and Ginny said, “What do you mean?”
“You have more of Molly Weasley in you than you care to admit,” Hermione stated knowingly. “For whatever reason, you’ve decided that Malfoy needs looking after. Oh, don’t look like that. I happen to think that it’s a good thing.”
Ginny raised an eyebrow and said, “Will you still be so happy if he murders me in my bed?”
“He’s not going to do that,” she replied with yet another smile.
A sigh escaped Ginny as she met Hermione’s eyes. The other woman was so utterly confident that she was right that it was almost irritating.
“Fine,” she said eventually. “What does he need?”
~ O ~
Ginny started at the startling array of pill bottles and potions lined up on her kitchen table in something akin to shock. It looked like Hermione had unloaded half of an apothecary on her, and apparently there was more to come. The other witch had informed her casually on her way to the door that she would send a courier with another batch some time later that day.
She shifted her eyes away from the brightly coloured collection and to the papers that Hermione had also left behind. Written in her friend’s neat script were the instructions pertaining to the various combinations and when they should be taken. Ginny had avoided leafing through them - mainly because when Hermione had started writing out the third pages she had began to feel a mild sense of panic rising up inside. When she had told Hermione that Malfoy could stay with her she had never quite anticipated what the consequences might be.
The most worrying section of the notes was on the final page. Hermione had actually read those out while she had been writing them, and Ginny had found herself becoming increasingly distressed as she did so. They went under the header of ‘what to do in an emergency’, and while Hermione had pointed out that they probably would not be necessary the fact that she had felt the need to write anything down at all was enough to worry Ginny.
She pushed the papers away, deciding to look at them later. With any luck, she would manage to convince Malfoy to follow them so that she would never have to.
The hope, she suspected, was a feeble one.
Pushing her chair away from the table, Ginny let out a deep sigh and stood. Even without the medicines to consider, she had another unenviable task to perform now.
She made her way slowly through to the lounge, pausing in the doorway to fix a calm expression on her face. If she was being completely honest, Ginny would have admitted that the revelations that Hermione had come out with had shaken her far more than she could have guessed that they would have - than they should have done. As Hermione had been speaking, she had found herself drifting off, thinking of Malfoy more and more, and decidedly less clinically.
She shook herself, finding the man in question with her eyes.
He was slumped on the couch, his head resting against the arm and the blanket draw across his legs. She could not tell from her current angle but Ginny suspected that his eyes were already closed because he was breathing deeply and evenly. As a consequence, she approached slowly, her eyes picking over the way his white blond hair was spread out over the bright colour of the couch covering and the fact that he had one hand hovering off the edge of the cushion.
“So,” he said suddenly. “I get rid of one do-gooder and I end up with another.”
Ginny jumped as she was startled. She had honestly believed that he was asleep and as far as she could recall she had made no sound while approaching him. Now his head rolled to the side so that he could look at her.
“You heard,” she said, shuffling to one side and perching on the edge of the coffee table. It put her knees close to his shoulder, and allowed him to look at her without straining.
“You weren’t exactly being quiet,” he replied dryly.
Ginny bit her lip uncertain of what she should say. Noticing the expression, Malfoy added, “You’re not going to try and talk me into going back to that hospital, are you? I can promise that you would have no more luck than Granger.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to go,” he replied swiftly, looking rather bored.
“No, I mean why don’t you want to go?” Ginny asked again.
“What does it matter to you?” he said, a flicker of irritation passing over his pale features.
“Well, you are going to be staying here…”
“If you’re going to hold that over my head then I’ll leave,” he said, moving to sit. “I was only going to stay because you were silly enough to offer in the first place. I decided that I might as well take advantage of your stupidity.”
He pushed himself to his feet with a grace that Ginny had not expected. She stood quickly in response and placed her hands on his shoulders. Immediately, she was surprised to discover just how tall he was. She was even more surprised to discover how delicate he felt under her fingers, and in the end it took very little to push him back down into a sitting position.
“Don’t you be silly,” she told him, sinking down onto the table once again. “I would have just liked to know exactly what I was dealing with since even Hermione doesn’t. She doesn’t understand why you’re refusing help anymore than I do. It just doesn’t seem very in keeping with your character.”
Malfoy snorted and then looked up at her from under his heavy eyelashes. His expression was cool and dismissive - as if he thought that she had said something incredibly stupid.
“What do you know about my character?” he replied. “Beyond what you think you knew in school, that is. Shall I tell you? Nothing. The only things that you know are your preconceived notions.”
Ginny gritted her teeth, breathing in deeply as she felt her temper rise. He was not even going to give her a chance. Something had put him on the defensive and he was reacting by hitting out at her. Considering the expression that was currently on his face, Ginny was honestly surprised that he had not simply tried to push her out of the way and head for the door anyway when she had grabbed him.
“Fine,” she said finally. “You say that I know nothing about you but I find that a little hard to believe. I’d hate to think that it was completely true.” He raised a sceptical eyebrow and she continued, “Because the Draco Malfoy I remember wouldn’t have given up so easily! You proved that time and again when we were in school whether it was while tormenting some poor classmate or… or…”
“Trying to murder someone?” he finished, his gaze hardening further.
Ginny blinked, astonished at the tone of his voice. Her lips parted as she sought something to say but no words came out. Instead, she wetted them and glanced away.
“You know,” he drawled. “Just because Granger is so certain I won’t murder you in your bed it doesn’t mean that I won’t actually do it. Oddly enough, she isn’t a complete expert on my character either. In fact, she probably understands it even less than you do.”
She looked at him sharply - noting the tightness around his eyes and the tension that seemed to be threaded through his shoulders. There was something that she was missing - something beyond Malfoy’s simple defensiveness and sudden need to convince her that he could be dangerous. It was suddenly blatantly obvious that he was trying to hide something from her, and Ginny could not help but think that it must be something to do with his illness. After all, that was how the conversation had really started.
For a moment, Ginny contemplated asking him what it was he was trying to keep from her. However, she decided not to act impulsively and instead bit her tongue. Somehow she doubted that asking Malfoy what he was keeping from her was the way to find out what that something was.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” he asked suddenly, drawing Ginny’s attention to the fact that she had been quiet slightly too long.
“What can I possibly say to something like that?” Ginny retorted after a moment. “I mean, you just said you’re considering murdering me. I feel like I should be reaching for my wand.”
Malfoy’s lip curled slightly. “You don’t have it on you.”
Ginny felt a whisper of tension seep through her as she realised he was right. In her anxious state of mind, she had left it in the kitchen when she had proceeded to the living room.
He leaned back, resting his hands on his stomach. “You know, if it makes you feel any better I wasn’t actually considering killing you. I mean, it wouldn’t exactly be sensible since you’re the one letting me stay here.”
“Thanks,” Ginny replied dryly.
He smirked at her broadly, looking utterly relaxed. Ginny suspected that it was a mask although she would not have bet her life savings on it.
“I feel obliged to say that I’m here if you ever decide that you do want to talk about it,” Ginny told him. “In truth, I don’t think I could care less at the moment.”
Malfoy’s features twisted into a grimace. “Thank you for ruining a perfectly pleasant moment. Next you’ll expect me to hug you or something.”
“Don’t worry - I’d never do that,” Ginny replied swiftly, mirroring his expression as she spoke.
“Physical contact between a Weasel and Malfoy that wasn’t hostile would probably cause the world to end,” Malfoy agreed.
Ginny narrowed her eyes at him but choose to ignore the insult. Placing her hands on her knees, she pushed herself into a standing position. “You know, I’m sure it’s time for one of those disgusting looking potions that Hermione left behind for you.”
Malfoy groaned in reply - the sound of which made Ginny smile as she stepped towards the door.
“Do you… Do you suppose she’s going to tell those moron friends of hers where I am?” he asked, stopping her in her tracks.
Ginny looked back at him, wondering at the strange expression on his face. He looked concerned, she decided, and immediately her mind began to wonder why.
She turned and stepped back towards the couch. “Harry and Ron aren’t going to simply storm round here,” she told him, understanding immediately who he was referring to.
Once again he raised a sceptical eyebrow in her direction.
Ginny cocked her head to one side and said, “Well, okay, they might come barging around here but I can deal with them if they do. Ron’s been scared of me ever since he was ten.”
Malfoy looked far from convinced and she could not help but notice that he once again looked rather anxious. It made her wonder whether there was not more to his wish to avoid her brother and Harry than simple embarrassment at his situation.
“Besides,” she added, “if Hermione didn’t tell them where you were when you were at the hospital then I doubt that she’s going to do it now.”
“Not even if she thinks that someone should keep an eye on you because of the big bad Death Eater sleeping on your couch?”
Ginny winced at the term, hating the fact that he was reminding her of precisely what he was. What he had been, she corrected mentally and told him as much. “There aren’t any Death Eaters anymore,” she concluded, folding her arms and daring him to contradict her. He immediately did so by snorting derisively.
She sighed, and said, “I’ll make a point of telling her not to do so if you want.”
Malfoy’s jaw tightened slightly - the movement barely perceptible. A second later he nodded his head but remained silent.
“I’ll get that potion,” Ginny said, heading towards the door once again. The second she was out in the corridor, she let out a long breath and closed her eyes briefly.
It was starting to seem that the moment she cleared up one mystery about Malfoy another one would become apparent. First there was his reluctance to get treatment in hospital, and now there was the question of why he was so desperate to avoid Harry and Ron.
14: BUBBLES
Author: humbuggirl
Pairing: Draco/Ginny
Rating: R (M) - eventually
Chapter Word Count: 4,650
Summary: “There was no snide quip though. No deliberately cutting comment. Ginny stared and then a second later the grey eyes rolled dramatically and turned away from her towards the tasteless curtains.” Post-war fic. Ginny was just plodding along, enduring her perfectly well-ordered normal life and dreaming that maybe something more interesting might come along. She just never thought that the ‘something’ might actually turn out to be a ‘someone’.
Spoilers: HBP
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
1: Paperwork
2: The Good Life
3: Cures and Conundrums
4: Escape, with Sandwiches
5: Night Owls
6: Bookworm
7: A Slytherin Sunday
8: Getting Better
9: History Class and French Lessons
10: Paint the Night with Colour
11: Sleep Softly
12: Blood and Lazy Bones
Part Thirteen: Case History
Hermione shifted uneasily - abruptly incapable of looking Ginny in the eye. She stared at her clasped hands as they rested on the table and said nothing in reply. Ginny realised sharply that her old friend had managed to accidentally reveal something that she should not have - or at least something that she had not planned to reveal. If Hermione had hoped that the Ginny would be willing to let the subject drop though then she was wrong. The redhead had spent the last few weeks obsessing over what was wrong with Draco Malfoy and she was not about to give up now that she was so close to finding out the truth.
“’Mione?” Ginny said, pressing gently. She kept her voice low, trying not to sound as eager as she actually felt, while hoping that by doing so the other witch would feel relaxed enough to be open with her.
In response, Hermione sucked in a deep breath before beginning to gnaw at her bottom lip in a familiar concerned fashion. It was an expression that Ginny had seen time and time again since they had first met at school, and one that she did not like very much. When Hermione again turned to look at Ginny however, there was a determined, almost businesslike, look on her face that the redhead tended to associate with a completely different setting. Hermione was once again her professional self.
“I don’t think you can really understand what is happening to Malfoy unless you know a little bit about him,” she began cautiously.
Ginny cocked her head to one side, immediately intrigued. She remained silent however, waiting for Hermione to continue. The thought that she might accidentally say something that would cause Hermione to clam up again was terrifying.
“Has he mentioned anything to you about how he came to be in his current predicament?” Hermione asked.
“No,” Ginny replied, frowning slightly as she did so. “Well, he mentioned that he’s broke. Oh, and that he’s pretty much a social pariah - but that isn’t exactly news, I suppose. Other than that he hasn’t really said anything, though.”
Hermione nodded thoughtfully. This was apparently how she had expected Ginny to respond. “Did you hear much about what happened to Malfoy after the war?” she asked.
“I can remember his name being mentioned once or twice, but I didn’t hear any of the specifics. To be honest, I didn’t care that much. I was too busy trying to get my life on track and by that time I wasn’t really that much involved with the fighting and the politics.”
The corner of Hermione’s mouth curled up slightly. “I know.” At the look on Ginny’s face, she quickly added, “That’s not a criticism, Ginny. I understand perfectly that you didn’t want to get involved in the political machinations that followed - I didn’t really want to myself, to be honest. It was sort of unavoidable, though. Besides, there were a lot of witches and wizards who chose to just let the ministry get on with sorting out the mess the remaining Death Eaters created.”
Ginny smiled at her reassuringly even though inside she was still smarting slightly. Hermione might not have meant anything by her comment, but she had managed to stir up a host of old emotions in her friend. There had been more than one person who had asked after the war why Harry Potter’s precious former lover was not working right alongside the hero and her family to put the ministry back on its feet. More than once Ginny had been forced to bite her tongue so that she did not knock some nosey reporter right off their feet.
The kettle whistled, breaking the silence as it signalled that the water was ready. Ginny turned to the counter and set about making the tea while Hermione continued.
“Malfoy was one of the last Death Eaters to be brought before the Wizengamot - although he was actually captured some months before the end,” she said, glancing towards Ginny even though the redhead still had her back to the table. “Tiberius Ogden was presiding that day, and that is probably all that stopped Malfoy from being sent straight back to Azkaban. He didn’t get off lightly though. They stripped him of every single piece of property that the Malfoy family had owned before the war. Every house, business, book and piece of furniture was taken by the ministry as reparations for the harm that Malfoy and his family caused during the war.”
After pausing briefly, she continued, “It was horrible, really. I was there since Harry and Ron had insisted on going. They systematically listed every single holding that Malfoy had to his name before taking it away from him. Before they were even halfway through, I half thought that he was going to drop dead on the spot from a heart attack. By the time that they were through, all that he was left with was one tiny vault at Gringotts. They wanted to take that as well, but a few of the other Wizengamot members objected.”
“He was lucky,” Ginny observed, placing a cup of tea down in front of Hermione. She slipped into the seat adjacent to the woman and peered at her expectantly, eagerly anticipating the next part of the story. So far, she had heard nothing too terrible - certainly nothing that would explain Malfoy’s peculiar illness.
“Yes, he was,” Hermione agreed then sipped her tea. “I don’t know too much about what happened to him after that,” she admitted. “Most of the things I know, I’ve had to figure out for myself. You may have noticed that he is not the most open of people. I can tell you that when he first turned up at the hospital looking for treatment he was almost certainly not in the same situation as he is now. Personally, I suspect that he used up what money he was left with looking for a cure to his illness.”
Ginny raised an eyebrow, feeling a flutter of excitement in her stomach. This was it - this was what she had been waiting for.
“His records indicate that, up until three months prior to first being admitted to St Mungo’s, he was being treated at the Rosewood Clinic. Unfortunately, they don’t tell us much more. While there, he underwent a barrage of tests but they could find nothing significant - or at least nothing that hinted at the true nature of his condition.” Hermione gave her a knowing look - one which was tainted with disapproval. “I suspect that it was their extortionate fees which forced him to eventually take the free treatment on offer at St Mungo’s.”
“He’s been ill for years, then?” Ginny asked. “This isn’t something recent?”
“It’s possible that he was already ill when the war ended,” Hermione acknowledged with another nod of her head. “Once or twice I’ve tried asking him questions to pinpoint precisely when he started to feel the effects, but he’s been just as evasive about that as he has been about everything else. It’s frustrating.”
The redhead pursed her lips, and said, “Do you… do you think it might be something that he might have picked up during the war?”
Her enquiring tone was enough to make Hermione look up sharply. It was not until she did so that Ginny realised that she may have made a mistake.
“What makes you say that?” Hermione asked curiously.
Ginny shrugged her shoulders and thought swiftly. “You said that he had probably been ill since before the war finished - I just wondered whether that meant that something might have happened to him during it. I mean, you hear all sorts of talk about veterans still suffering from some of the curses they were hit with - we even see then at the hospital. Ex-Death Eaters must be in just the same situation as Order members and Aurors.”
Hermione nodded, but then said, “I would be surprised if Malfoy’s illness proved to be the result of a curse - or, at least, of a conventional one. It’s too strange, and we would undoubtedly have seen it in other patients as well. My current theory is that it is something relating to a hereditary condition.”
“Wouldn’t that mean that his mother or father would have had it as well though?” Ginny asked.
“If only that was the case. I’ve questioned Malfoy closely on the matter but he doesn’t seem very willing to volunteer information about that either. I’ve managed to get my hands on Narcissa Malfoy’s medical records but they reveal very little. It seems that the woman hardly ever wanted or needed to visit a physician. Lucius Malfoy’s records were apparently destroyed during the rioting in Azkaban during the war. His grandparents have all been dead for years, so turning up their information has been virtually impossible. The closest I’ve come to discovering anything at all useful in the case of Abraxas Malfoy is his obituary, and that doesn’t exactly say much. Apparently he died of dragon pox anyway.”
Hermione paused, drawing in a deep breath before sipping her tea. “It could be something stemming from years back… It could have skipped a few generations. Until Malfoy chooses to tell me whether his ancestors had anything similar then I honestly couldn’t say for certain. It’s most likely it comes from the Malfoy line. I mean, I asked Harry to let me hunt through the family chronicles in the library at Grimmauld Place to see whether it might be something inherited from the Black family but there wasn’t anything in keeping with Malfoy’s symptoms. Do you know anything about genetics?”
Ginny shook her head slightly, even as her mind flitted back to the research that she had done at Hermione’s apartment. She knew what Hermione was now talking about was closely related to the books that she had found by accident - the ones that related to Pureblood breeding habits. Beyond that thought, she honestly did not think that she knew anything.
“Right,” Hermione said. “Well, in the last few decades, Muggles have spent considerable amounts of time and money investigating finding out why some diseases run in families and others don’t. In some cases, part of the reason seems to be because genes they’ve inherited from their parents. Genes are…”
“I know what they are,” Ginny interrupted impatiently. She flushed slightly at the surprised look that appeared on Hermione’s face. Offering her friend a small smile, she added, “You forget who my Dad is, Hermione. He used to read textbooks about that stuff to us like they were full of nursery rhymes.”
“Oh, right. Then I suppose you realise that it can be possible for someone to be a carrier of a disease even if they don’t actually suffer from it?” At Ginny’s nod, Hermione continued, “Well, I think that there’s a possibility that Lucius Malfoy was a carrier of the disease that his son is suffering from, and that something happened to Malfoy to make it active. It could be that it’s linked to a recessive gene, meaning that it would not be active unless Narcissa Malfoy was also a carrier. Or,” she added, “It could be that something happened to activate what would have been a benign mutation of his genetic code, therefore causing him to become ill.”
Ginny silently leaned back on her seat, rubbing her hands down her thighs nervously. As Hermione had been talking, it had become impossible not to realise exactly how serious Malfoy’s situation really was. Hermione seemed to be suggesting was that Malfoy’s illness was one which could be far from common in the magical world.
When she opened her mouth next, she found herself repeating the same question that she had asked earlier. “Is he dying then?”
Hermione sighed deeply and dipped her eyes. For a second, Ginny thought that she was not going to answer, but then the brunette nodded her head. “Unless I can figure out exactly what is wrong with him and find a suitable treatment then, yes, there is a very real possibility that he will die.”
Ginny sucked in a deep breath, abruptly feel nauseous. There was a painful knot in the middle of her chest that seemed to make her heart race. She knew that all the blood must have drained from her features. Unconsciously, she brought her arms up and hugged herself.
“How long does he have?” she asked quietly.
“To be completely honest I’m not actually sure… It could be anywhere between six months and six years. Leaving the hospital certainly did not help, and living on the streets has only compounded that.”
Ginny stared hard at Hermione for a moment before tearing her eyes away from the woman. For a moment, a peculiar sense of resentment had begun to form inside her mind. In school, and even after they had left, Hermione had always known precisely the right answer to everything - whether it concerned potions homework or defying Voldemort. It was what she had been famous for. The thought that she did not know how to make Malfoy well again was strangely disturbing. Ginny tried hard not to think of why that was exactly.
She pushed down the feeling, realising how ridiculous it really was. Hermione could hardly help the fact that figuring out what was wrong with Malfoy was difficult. She certainly could not help the fact that he was being uncooperative while she attempted to do so.
Ginny frowned slightly as her mind turned to thoughts of the man in her lounge. Now that Hermione had told her about his illness - or rather why she thought he was ill - Ginny realised that she had another question. Why was Malfoy being uncooperative? It did not make any sense. The boy that she had known at Hogwarts had valued his personal safety and health above all other things. Refusing to tell his physician about what had happened to him - about his family medical history - was hardly going to benefit him.
She briefly toyed with the idea that it might simply be because he did not want Hermione to know the truth, but then she dismissed the thought. Malfoy was smart enough to realise that Hermione might well be his only way of regaining his health. But if that was the case then why was he not taking full advantage of the fact that he effectively had her at his beck and call? That was hardly the type of behaviour that Ginny would have expected from someone so innately cunning and ambitious - from someone so Slytherin.
“There are certain medicines that he requires,” Hermione said, dragging Ginny out of her thoughts and back into the kitchen. “If he’s going to stay here then I would appreciate it if you would ensure that he does so.”
Ginny frowned slightly. “I said that he could stay the rest of the day, Hermione. I never said anything about staying longer. He never said that he would do so, either.”
A sly smile filtered onto the brunette’s face. “You’re going to let him though, aren’t you? I saw your face when he threatened to leave before, Ginny. You’re not going to let him walk out that door any time soon.”
Her frown deepened, and Ginny said, “What do you mean?”
“You have more of Molly Weasley in you than you care to admit,” Hermione stated knowingly. “For whatever reason, you’ve decided that Malfoy needs looking after. Oh, don’t look like that. I happen to think that it’s a good thing.”
Ginny raised an eyebrow and said, “Will you still be so happy if he murders me in my bed?”
“He’s not going to do that,” she replied with yet another smile.
A sigh escaped Ginny as she met Hermione’s eyes. The other woman was so utterly confident that she was right that it was almost irritating.
“Fine,” she said eventually. “What does he need?”
~ O ~
Ginny started at the startling array of pill bottles and potions lined up on her kitchen table in something akin to shock. It looked like Hermione had unloaded half of an apothecary on her, and apparently there was more to come. The other witch had informed her casually on her way to the door that she would send a courier with another batch some time later that day.
She shifted her eyes away from the brightly coloured collection and to the papers that Hermione had also left behind. Written in her friend’s neat script were the instructions pertaining to the various combinations and when they should be taken. Ginny had avoided leafing through them - mainly because when Hermione had started writing out the third pages she had began to feel a mild sense of panic rising up inside. When she had told Hermione that Malfoy could stay with her she had never quite anticipated what the consequences might be.
The most worrying section of the notes was on the final page. Hermione had actually read those out while she had been writing them, and Ginny had found herself becoming increasingly distressed as she did so. They went under the header of ‘what to do in an emergency’, and while Hermione had pointed out that they probably would not be necessary the fact that she had felt the need to write anything down at all was enough to worry Ginny.
She pushed the papers away, deciding to look at them later. With any luck, she would manage to convince Malfoy to follow them so that she would never have to.
The hope, she suspected, was a feeble one.
Pushing her chair away from the table, Ginny let out a deep sigh and stood. Even without the medicines to consider, she had another unenviable task to perform now.
She made her way slowly through to the lounge, pausing in the doorway to fix a calm expression on her face. If she was being completely honest, Ginny would have admitted that the revelations that Hermione had come out with had shaken her far more than she could have guessed that they would have - than they should have done. As Hermione had been speaking, she had found herself drifting off, thinking of Malfoy more and more, and decidedly less clinically.
She shook herself, finding the man in question with her eyes.
He was slumped on the couch, his head resting against the arm and the blanket draw across his legs. She could not tell from her current angle but Ginny suspected that his eyes were already closed because he was breathing deeply and evenly. As a consequence, she approached slowly, her eyes picking over the way his white blond hair was spread out over the bright colour of the couch covering and the fact that he had one hand hovering off the edge of the cushion.
“So,” he said suddenly. “I get rid of one do-gooder and I end up with another.”
Ginny jumped as she was startled. She had honestly believed that he was asleep and as far as she could recall she had made no sound while approaching him. Now his head rolled to the side so that he could look at her.
“You heard,” she said, shuffling to one side and perching on the edge of the coffee table. It put her knees close to his shoulder, and allowed him to look at her without straining.
“You weren’t exactly being quiet,” he replied dryly.
Ginny bit her lip uncertain of what she should say. Noticing the expression, Malfoy added, “You’re not going to try and talk me into going back to that hospital, are you? I can promise that you would have no more luck than Granger.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to go,” he replied swiftly, looking rather bored.
“No, I mean why don’t you want to go?” Ginny asked again.
“What does it matter to you?” he said, a flicker of irritation passing over his pale features.
“Well, you are going to be staying here…”
“If you’re going to hold that over my head then I’ll leave,” he said, moving to sit. “I was only going to stay because you were silly enough to offer in the first place. I decided that I might as well take advantage of your stupidity.”
He pushed himself to his feet with a grace that Ginny had not expected. She stood quickly in response and placed her hands on his shoulders. Immediately, she was surprised to discover just how tall he was. She was even more surprised to discover how delicate he felt under her fingers, and in the end it took very little to push him back down into a sitting position.
“Don’t you be silly,” she told him, sinking down onto the table once again. “I would have just liked to know exactly what I was dealing with since even Hermione doesn’t. She doesn’t understand why you’re refusing help anymore than I do. It just doesn’t seem very in keeping with your character.”
Malfoy snorted and then looked up at her from under his heavy eyelashes. His expression was cool and dismissive - as if he thought that she had said something incredibly stupid.
“What do you know about my character?” he replied. “Beyond what you think you knew in school, that is. Shall I tell you? Nothing. The only things that you know are your preconceived notions.”
Ginny gritted her teeth, breathing in deeply as she felt her temper rise. He was not even going to give her a chance. Something had put him on the defensive and he was reacting by hitting out at her. Considering the expression that was currently on his face, Ginny was honestly surprised that he had not simply tried to push her out of the way and head for the door anyway when she had grabbed him.
“Fine,” she said finally. “You say that I know nothing about you but I find that a little hard to believe. I’d hate to think that it was completely true.” He raised a sceptical eyebrow and she continued, “Because the Draco Malfoy I remember wouldn’t have given up so easily! You proved that time and again when we were in school whether it was while tormenting some poor classmate or… or…”
“Trying to murder someone?” he finished, his gaze hardening further.
Ginny blinked, astonished at the tone of his voice. Her lips parted as she sought something to say but no words came out. Instead, she wetted them and glanced away.
“You know,” he drawled. “Just because Granger is so certain I won’t murder you in your bed it doesn’t mean that I won’t actually do it. Oddly enough, she isn’t a complete expert on my character either. In fact, she probably understands it even less than you do.”
She looked at him sharply - noting the tightness around his eyes and the tension that seemed to be threaded through his shoulders. There was something that she was missing - something beyond Malfoy’s simple defensiveness and sudden need to convince her that he could be dangerous. It was suddenly blatantly obvious that he was trying to hide something from her, and Ginny could not help but think that it must be something to do with his illness. After all, that was how the conversation had really started.
For a moment, Ginny contemplated asking him what it was he was trying to keep from her. However, she decided not to act impulsively and instead bit her tongue. Somehow she doubted that asking Malfoy what he was keeping from her was the way to find out what that something was.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” he asked suddenly, drawing Ginny’s attention to the fact that she had been quiet slightly too long.
“What can I possibly say to something like that?” Ginny retorted after a moment. “I mean, you just said you’re considering murdering me. I feel like I should be reaching for my wand.”
Malfoy’s lip curled slightly. “You don’t have it on you.”
Ginny felt a whisper of tension seep through her as she realised he was right. In her anxious state of mind, she had left it in the kitchen when she had proceeded to the living room.
He leaned back, resting his hands on his stomach. “You know, if it makes you feel any better I wasn’t actually considering killing you. I mean, it wouldn’t exactly be sensible since you’re the one letting me stay here.”
“Thanks,” Ginny replied dryly.
He smirked at her broadly, looking utterly relaxed. Ginny suspected that it was a mask although she would not have bet her life savings on it.
“I feel obliged to say that I’m here if you ever decide that you do want to talk about it,” Ginny told him. “In truth, I don’t think I could care less at the moment.”
Malfoy’s features twisted into a grimace. “Thank you for ruining a perfectly pleasant moment. Next you’ll expect me to hug you or something.”
“Don’t worry - I’d never do that,” Ginny replied swiftly, mirroring his expression as she spoke.
“Physical contact between a Weasel and Malfoy that wasn’t hostile would probably cause the world to end,” Malfoy agreed.
Ginny narrowed her eyes at him but choose to ignore the insult. Placing her hands on her knees, she pushed herself into a standing position. “You know, I’m sure it’s time for one of those disgusting looking potions that Hermione left behind for you.”
Malfoy groaned in reply - the sound of which made Ginny smile as she stepped towards the door.
“Do you… Do you suppose she’s going to tell those moron friends of hers where I am?” he asked, stopping her in her tracks.
Ginny looked back at him, wondering at the strange expression on his face. He looked concerned, she decided, and immediately her mind began to wonder why.
She turned and stepped back towards the couch. “Harry and Ron aren’t going to simply storm round here,” she told him, understanding immediately who he was referring to.
Once again he raised a sceptical eyebrow in her direction.
Ginny cocked her head to one side and said, “Well, okay, they might come barging around here but I can deal with them if they do. Ron’s been scared of me ever since he was ten.”
Malfoy looked far from convinced and she could not help but notice that he once again looked rather anxious. It made her wonder whether there was not more to his wish to avoid her brother and Harry than simple embarrassment at his situation.
“Besides,” she added, “if Hermione didn’t tell them where you were when you were at the hospital then I doubt that she’s going to do it now.”
“Not even if she thinks that someone should keep an eye on you because of the big bad Death Eater sleeping on your couch?”
Ginny winced at the term, hating the fact that he was reminding her of precisely what he was. What he had been, she corrected mentally and told him as much. “There aren’t any Death Eaters anymore,” she concluded, folding her arms and daring him to contradict her. He immediately did so by snorting derisively.
She sighed, and said, “I’ll make a point of telling her not to do so if you want.”
Malfoy’s jaw tightened slightly - the movement barely perceptible. A second later he nodded his head but remained silent.
“I’ll get that potion,” Ginny said, heading towards the door once again. The second she was out in the corridor, she let out a long breath and closed her eyes briefly.
It was starting to seem that the moment she cleared up one mystery about Malfoy another one would become apparent. First there was his reluctance to get treatment in hospital, and now there was the question of why he was so desperate to avoid Harry and Ron.
14: BUBBLES