How I Lost My Irish
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the idea (which I think is original, but ya never know). Anywho, the whole kitten-caboodle belongs to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter 1: Looking Back
"... and, before I knew it, she was off sleeping with my brother." A man with a strong Scottish accent sighed. He and a group of about eight other men were sitting around a poker table, having long forgotten the cards in their hands and piles of plastic chips. Every man in the camp had the same attire; dark khaki pants and a white button down shirt. Some wore ties, others had discarded theirs not long after they'd retired to their rooms.
A war was being fought not far from where this army camp of ready soldiers waited. They were counting down the days till they would all be called to fight for what they believed in. Voldermort and Harry Potter were both at the peak of their strengths, and people all over the wizarding world were dropping everything to come and fight for the side they supported.
But since there was no need for all of the soldiers to go in at once, this particular group of young men and women watched and waited, hoping for their chance at glory.
"That's sour luck," one man said to his Scottish friend. "the war has come between a lot of us. My girlfriend broke up with me before I left because she said that she couldn't bare to be away from me for so long."
"Really?" A particularly happy-looking man asked, raising one eyebrow and propping his feet up on the poker table. "If I were her, I'd be grateful for some time away from you."
All the men laughed, some clapping the happy-looking man on the back. Once the room had settled down, he said, "But, seriously, none of you have had it as bad as me. This war's been more of a hell for me and my wife then anyone here."
A quiet snort came from one of the darker corners of the room. The happy-looking man turned around in his chair as did everyone else. The only sounds that they had heard from that side of the room all day were the occasional disgruntled growl and crumpling of paper. "Do you have a comment, Malfoy?"
A blonde haired man with skin as pale as the moon and a face like stone came out of the shadows. He had a sketching pencil tucked behind one ear, and he rolled up his sleeves as he grabbed a chair.
"Carter, you have no idea what hell is." Draco said coolly, swiping the cigarette pack Carter had in his shirt pocket and taking a sole cigarette before throwing the pack onto the table.
"Is that so?" Carter said, cocking an eyebrow.
"Your little sob story's nothing compared to the life I've had to live." Draco said, striking a match on the bottom of Carter's shoe and lighting his cigarette.
"Well, Malfoy, why don't you grace us with your own story." Carter said, putting his hands behind his head.
Draco stood up and, taking a puff from his cigarette, said, "Grab your quills, gentlemen, because this is one you're going to want to write in your diaries. It all started back at the very beginning of the war..."
FIVE YEARS EARLIER
Ginny Weasley, fresh out of Hogwarts, sat on the edge of a river that flowed less then a mile from the Burrow. She kicked the water lazily, causing ripples to extend from her feet far out into the distance until they melted into the horizon. Playing with the grass beneath her with one hand, Ginny held firm onto her boyfriend's hand with the other.
They had been sitting in a silence for a few minutes, both waiting for the other to speak. Finally Ginny broke through the quiet with her whispering voice.
"I'm not sure," Harry said, looking down at their interlocked fingers. "But Dumbledore says we need to attack now, before Voldemort gets any stronger."
"So, is this how it works? You just, start fighting—start a war?" Ginny asked, wanting more information to help calm her nerves.
"I suppose," Harry said with a little laugh.
"This isn't funny." Ginny said sharply, glaring up at him.
"Gin, calm down. Everything's going to be fine." Harry said, letting go of her hand and wrapping his arm around her. Ginny rested her head on his shoulder and let out an exhausted sigh.
"I'm sorry, but you're going to be starting one of the biggest wars ever, so I have a right to be upset. I mean, you're the only one who can kill You-Know-Who, and that means you're going to be were all the danger is, all the time."
"Isn't that where I normally am?" Harry asked, smiling as he kissed Ginny's forehead.
"Don't make jokes." Ginny said stubbornly, burying her face in his sweater. She took a deep breath in, wanting to remember everything about Harry, down to his scent, before he left.
That night, everyone in the Weasley family plus Harry gathered around the kitchen table in the Burrow for dinner.
"So, mate, when do you have to leave?" Ron asked, piling roasted potatoes on his plate.
"Dumbledore said as soon as possible, so tomorrow, I suppose." Harry said. Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat. She and Harry had been together since her sixth year, and she'd never been happier. And now he had to leave, and there was a chance that he might never come back.
"Don't worry Harry, we'll be right there on the front lines with you." Hermione said, catching Ginny's attention.
"Yea, us too." Fred said, as George nodded along. "We're going to shut down the shop awhile so we can go fight, so you better appreciate it, mate."
"I'm going too." Ginny said with a determined look on her face.
"Absolutely not." Mrs. Weasley said.
"It's not like you can stop me," Ginny said angrily. "I'm 17 years old. I'm already a legal adult."
"But you must be 18 in order to sign up for the army." Mr. Weasley said calmly.
"Not if I have parental permission." Ginny said quickly.
"You are too young, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley said loudly. "I refuse to allow you to fight."
Ginny's heart sank. She looked around at her father hopefully, but he simply shook his head. She couldn't stand the thought of everyone else risking their lives while she just sat around doing nothing to help. She suddenly realized how Sirius must have felt when everyone else in the Order was doing something and he couldn't. Why was she always too young to do everything?
"Ginny—" Mrs. Weasley started angrily. But her daughter had already stood up from her chair, making it rock dangerously on it's hind legs, and bolted from the room.
The next morning, Ginny woke up to a tapping on her window. She rolled out of bed, reluctant to leave the warmth of her cotton sheets. She checked the lock on her bedroom door, making sure that no one could get in. After the fight last night, Ginny didn't want to speak to anyone.
Ginny pulled her hair up into something that might resemble a ponytail, and walked over to the window, expecting to see a rather small and energetic owl carrying her daily mail. This is why she was so shocked to find that, in place of her owl was a much larger, better looking man on a broom.
Ginny rushed over to the window, stumbling over her long pajama pants in the process, and threw the window open.
"What are you doing?" Ginny laughed, smiling widely.
"Your door was locked, and I wanted to say goodbye before I left." Harry said, smiling as Ginny kissed him. "I'm sorry that you can't come and fight, but, truthfully, I'm a little relieved. Now at least I know you're safe."
"It's fine." Ginny said halfheartedly. "I'll find another way to help."
Hesitantly, Harry said, "I have to go. Dumbledore's having me fly to the destination so it'll be harder for Voldemort to track me."
"Goodbye," Ginny said, kissing him. "I love you," she kissed him again. "Be careful," she kissed him again. "And if you don't write me I will personally separate you from your genitalia." she kissed him again.
"I love you too," Harry laughed. "and I'm rather close to my genitalia, so I promise to write."
After one last, long kiss, Harry turned his broom around and started to fly away. He was only a few feet away when he suddenly remembered something and rummaged around in his cloak.
Still flying toward his destination, Harry turned around and threw a black package, about half the size of a wand box, toward Ginny. She caught it easily and shouted, "What's this?"
Harry, still flying in the opposite direction of the Burrow, looked over his shoulder and shouted, "Something to remember me by!"
"That's a touching story, Malfoy, but what the hell does it have to do with you?" Carter asked, causing some of the men in the room to chuckle.
"Don't get your pretty pink knickers all in a twist, I'm getting to it." Draco said coolly, taking a few more puffs from his cigarette and flicking the ashes into Carter's lap. "Now, where was I? Oh yea, so then she becomes a nurse to help out good old Potter, and that's about the time I slither into the picture..."
FIVE YEARS EARLIER
"Nurse Weasley, I need you over here NOW!" Healer Kelley yelled.
Ginny growled angrily under her breath and quickly finished up with the patient she was working on before running over toward the bellowing voice. She grabbed the silver heart pendent that was hanging from her neck and tucked it under her shirt. Healer Kelley, one of the worst residents in St. Mungo's, wouldn't let anyone wear jewelry on the job, but there was no way Ginny was taking off the necklace Harry had given her before he left for the war.
"What's the matter?" Ginny asked, tucking a few curly locks from her fiery mane behind one ear.
"Well, for starters, this man has been here for two hours without anyone attending to him!" Healer Kelley roared. He was always so hard on the new nurses, especially Ginny.
"He was hit by a Puniceus Flamma Curse, sir, we can't do anything to make it lift. It'll wear off in a few hours, and then he'll be back to normal. There really isn't even a need for him to be here." Ginny said, talking quickly so he wouldn't cut her off.
"Well it's not my bloody fault, but at least get the poor man a room and get him out of our way." Kelley roared, pushing the gurney into Ginny's stomach and knocking the wind out of her.
Ginny didn't even bother to tell him that there weren't any rooms left. Muttering a few well-chosen words under her breath, she simply went on with her work, taking the time to push the poor man's gurney into a room that occupied two other people.
The war was getting worse every day, and a fresh batch of injured soldiers were wheeled in every minute. Ginny has been working at the hospital for nearly half a year, and was, in her opinion, a damn good nurse. However, Healer Kelley seemed determined to prove her wrong. He was constantly demeaning her, and there wasn't a nurse in the world that hated him more then Ginny.
"Weasley! Come over hear and make yourself useful for once!" Kelley's voice echoed off of the white halls. Ginny groaned, but obeyed. She followed his God awful voice and found him and a few other Healers gathered around one very unconscious man. A man who just happened to be donning a white mask and black robe.
"I need you to clear out a room for this man and get him settled in. He's going to be here for a while." Kelley said.
Ginny was speechless. This was a Death Eater. A follower of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. How could a hospital aimed at helping their side make room and help heal this person when it was obviously one of their soldiers who injured him?
"But—but, sir—!" Ginny began, her mouth open in shock.
"Now, Weasley," Kelley began calmly. "I was very careful not to use any big, technical terms in that sentence, so how is it possible that you didn't understand me?" he asked acidly.
"Go!" He roared.
Ginny reluctantly got behind the unconscious Death Eater's gurney and pushed it into one of the small rooms, having some other nurses move the two men who were currently in the room to another location. She closed the door, shutting out the chaotic noises that haunted the hospital.
She looked over at the Death Eater, almost afraid to walk up next to him. But, gathering up her courage and determined not to look like a coward, she slowly approached the masked man. Carefully, Ginny removed the skull-like mask and was greeted by much gentler features. A strong jaw and feather-soft blonde hair outlined this man's face. His cheeks were slightly pink, and his forehead a bit warm.
The face was familiar to Ginny, but she couldn't pinpoint it. She started to remove his black cloak, hoping to lower his temperature. But she must have moved him a little too much, because a deep, slightly hoarse voice gave her a start.
"Hey, Irish, get me some water, would ya?"
Ginny jumped up, hitting a metal tray and causing it to fall with a clatter, along with everything on it.
"Or if that's too hard for you, I could get it myself." A voice that could only belong to Malfoy said.
Draco made to get up, but swore loudly when he was overcome with pain.
"Get back in bed." Ginny said quickly, pushing him back against the pillows a bit harder then necessary and straightening his sheets.
Draco did a double take when he took a proper look at Ginny. He opened his mouth to say something, but the entrance of a Healer Kelley interrupted what he was thinking.
"Weasley, what could you possibly be doing that would make that much noise?" asked Kelley. He rounded the corner and came to tower over Ginny.
"It seems Irish here's gone a bit mad, sir." Draco said calmly.
"I have not gone mad!" Ginny said angrily.
"It's alright, Irish, you're amongst friends." Draco said in a would-be-caring voice. That is, if he weren't Draco Malfoy.
"Sir, can I talk to you for a second." Ginny asked, nodding her head to the door.
"No." Kelley said shortly.
"Haha! Good one, sir." Draco laughed, distinctly reminding Ginny of her older brother Percy.
"Sir, may I please go get our patient a sedative?" Ginny asked through gritted teeth, glaring at Draco.
"No, but you may go get us some lunch. I think they're serving Mexican in the cafeteria today, and I do love a good fajita." Kelley said. Ginny glared one last time at Draco before departing.
"Glad we got her out of the way." Kelley said, closing the door.
"Me and Irish go way back," Draco said.
"Does she know?" Kelley asked, lowering his voice and pulling out his wand long enough to put a silencing charm on the room.
"So Dumbledore told you too?" Draco laughed. "That man really knows how to run his mouth..."
"Well, I'm the head of this hospital, and, seeing as we wouldn't have taken you in otherwise, I had to know." Kelley said.
"Irish doesn't know. We haven't seen each other in a year and a half. She still thinks I'm evil little Malfoy; a clone of my father." Draco said, sadness in his eyes. "I can't tell anyone. It'd be risking my life."
"That must be tough. I mean, especially now, everyone thinking you're on the dark side, when you're really working twice as hard to help save their asses."
"It isn't easy being a double agent." Draco said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice as he put his hands behind his head. Hoping to get off of the topic, Draco said, "How much longer is it going to take her?"
But before he could even get the sentence out, Ginny came walking in with two trays.
"Healer Kelley, one of your patients is bleeding out." Ginny said calmly, setting down a tray in front of Draco.
"And we were having such a wonderful conversation." Kelley said with a frown. He headed toward the door and, before leaving, saw Ginny eyeing his tray. "Weasley, don't eat my food."
Once he was gone, Ginny rolled her eyes and started muttering curse words under her breath. Just as she was reaching to move Healer Kelley's tray, she could hear him shouting her name.
"I'm not eating it!" Ginny yelled angrily, her stomach growling quietly.
"No, not that." Kelley said, poking his head around the door. "I just wanted to tell you that, because this is the best excuse to get you out of my way, I'm assigning you to Mr. Malfoy until his stay here is over."
"But—!" Ginny started, but he had already left. She turned back to Draco with an angry look on her face.
"Looks like we'll be spending a lot of time together, Irish." Draco smirked.
"Malfoy, why do you keep calling me that?" Ginny asked, glaring at him.
"Because 'Weasley' just reminds me of your brother and you are nothing like your brother." Draco said, looking her up and down. "Well, you know, except for the whole being really idiotic and easy to annoy."
"Well my name's Ginny." She said, trying to control her anger and not stab Draco with his plastic fork.
"Fine, then you have to call me Draco." He said, smirking. "Or Drakie. That's always been a favorite of Pansy."
"Irish is fine." Ginny muttered angrily, grabbing Draco's tray a little to forcefully and causing mash potatoes to fall into his lap.
Note: Puniceus Flamma means purple flame in Latin. I had to make something up because they never said what the curse was that hit Hermione in the fifth book.
Also: I will update every Friday...er, just thought you should know.
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