Prompt: A D/G oneshot in which Ginny has Draco's baby and he doesn't know. Include the line, "I don't want to wait for our lives to be over. I want to know right now, what will it be?"

Useless Author's Note: I love Kristi to death for giving me this private prompt. hehe. *points to favorite author's list* I'm quite proud of this piece, but reviews and criticism? Always appreciated. And now... ladies and gents... for the REAL stuff:

Another Lie

Drip. Drip. Drip. She could hear the steady sound of water drip, drip, dripping… falling into some pool of itself somewhere. Somewhere in the dark.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Without faltering for a moment the water continued to fall, but she couldn't see it. Could only hear it, so close to her in this place where she couldn't see. It was somewhere in front of her… somewhere near. This steady fall of water.

Drip. Drip. Drip. And she could feel it, too. On her knees on the cold hard floor, she could feel the water pooled around her them. It wasn't cold, but lukewarm. Body temperature. She could barely feel it against her because it matched her temperature perfectly. But she could still feel the wetness, the thickness of the water, as though it was mixed with dirt from the stone floor.

Drip. Drip. Drip. And she smelled it, too. It was a rich, intoxicating smell. It was a smell that made her thirsty, that made her want to reach her hands down and cup some of that water to bring to her mouth. It was surely sweet, pure water… it had to be. It smelled like the outdoors after it had rained, like a spring when you were parched… and like the salt of the ocean.

Drip… drip… drip… It was slowing down, not nearly so steady anymore. Slowing, slowing, slowing… slowing… drip… drip… drip… She stood up slowly, reaching out with both hands. She quickly hit stone, a hard wall perhaps. Her fingers glided along it for as far as they could without moving her feet, until she felt something. It was a muggle light-contraption. The thing that lit their funny electric candles. She flipped the switch, and the light above her flickered on and off, on and sputtering back out again, and finally back on to stay.

Panic hit Ginny in the gut when the light revealed the source of the water. She screamed, unable to tear her eyes away from her son. The infant's body was laid out on his back on a low stone alter, spread eagle. Blood had oozed into the night gown that he wore and was dripping slowly down his arm, over her hand, off of his little finger, and onto the floor. His blue eyeswere glossed over and lifeless. Ginny seemed frozen in place, able to move only her eyes, and she followed the blood drops to a pool on the floor. But it was much more than a pool: the entire floor was flooded with blood, an impossible amount. The mother leaned forward and retched as she realized that she had not smelled the salt of the ocean.

Finally, she was able to rush forward and throw her body across the alter, grabbing at her baby. She could still feel the acidic vomit on her chin, the blood on her knees, the tears in her eyes. She embraced her baby son, held him tightly to her chest. She couldn't find her wand, and so there was nothing that she could do.

When at last she looked up, he was there: standing in front of Ginny and her baby was the man that had killed him. His hair was unkempt and tangled and he didn't appear to have shaved in weeks. In his eyes burned a fury that seemed to radiate throughout the room and pierce Ginny all the way to her soul. He smiled a wicked smile and brushed sweat off of his forehead, away from his lightning scar-

Ginny sat up in bed, a small cry escaping her lips. She was panting and disoriented, every breath was coming in its own great heave. She couldn't remember what was going on; could only remember her baby. She just had to get to her baby. She flipped the covers off of her body and her feet hit the wooden floor. She rushed through the dark to the other side of the small room, so fast that her hands collided with the side of the crib before she could stop herself. She feared that the noise and the motion would wake him, but snatched him up out of the bedding anyway. She held him to her chest as he woke up, still unsure of why she needed him so. He started to fuss, no doubt startled by his abrupt awakening.

And then it all rushed back to Ginny… the room and the blood and him. It had been Harry. Ginny bounced up and down with her baby in her arms, shuddering at the thought of him being lifeless and cold. She was glad that she had woken him up, glad that he was crying. Dead babies didn't cry.

"Sshh," she breathed into his ear, still bouncing and rocking him back and forth in front of the crib, "it's okay, it will all be okay." The words were meant for herself as well, however, as she walked slowly back to her bed and sat down, still cradling the infant. She smiled as his fussing started to quiet. Ginny let one hand go to her neck and she began to fumble with the buttons there, slowly undoing them one at a time until her nightgown was open to her navel. She stroked her baby's face and smiled as she offered him her breast, which was eagerly accepted. Mother and baby both sighed as the suckling began.

Ginny's mind was still moving a hundred kilometers a hour as she watched her son breastfeed. She was tired of having dreams about Harry, especially now that he was gone for good. It wasn't that she missed him, oh no… it was that she didn't need the daily reminder of what her life didn't have to be.

By this time, Ginny should have been his wife. They had, after all, been engaged to be married. Not that Ginny wouldn't had have a perfect life with Harry, but she would have had a good life. Harry had been her one schoolgirl love, and someone that would have cherished her for the rest of his life… had it not gone so horribly wrong. It was right after the war, the first time she had looked at Draco Malfoy in a different way. He was beautiful and they were both grieving… he, the loss of his Lord, and she, the loss of her brother. They had learned to cope in such a wonderful way…

And so it went on for months, their secret rendezvous at the Manor. Their feelings of mutual grief expanded and grew until they blossomed into a love like no other. Draco Malfoy and Ginevra Weasley had fallen in love. Both the boy and the girl, so naive still and yet so aged through the war and their grief, knew that they could never make it work. The two were so different and would never be able to change all that had happened between their families.

And so, Harry proposed. Ginny accepted, allowing him to court her body and mind in between secret visits to Draco. But Harry would never touch her soul. Wedding plans went on, life went on… and Draco was wed. Nothing changed except for the frequencies of the rendezvous… they became more frequent. Ginny's original rule remained firm: Draco was allowed to love her, to please and to be pleased… but he must never penetrate her. Ginny knew that, if she were to get pregnant, the whole ruse would be over. But it was so hard not to make love, to really make love, with the man who had her soul. Often times she would leave Draco with a content heart but an unsatisfied body… she would go straight to Harry and drag him to bed where she would promptly copulate him. And she knew that Draco often did the same with his Astoria.

Ginny's thoughts were interrupted by the baby stirring, and she switched him to the other breast. Repositioning herself, the thoughts began again. She remembered that night, the night when it had been too much…

Ginny had been laid out naked on the Malfoy's guest bed, with Draco propped up by her side. He had cradled her head in his left arm while his right hand caressed her, eventually finding its way to his favorite place… his long, skinny fingers had been thrust inside of her one at a time. He stroked inside of her as he did, causing her body to shake and her back to arch. She had clutched at his chest, her eyes closed and her mouth wide open. Now two fingers… and three… and she had continued to shake and to grab at him, pleading for him to stop. It was too much for her. But Draco hadn't stopped… he had climbed on top and slid himself inside of her for the first time. Their hips had rocked in time faster and faster, until Draco finished with Ginny's name on his lips.

Ginny sighed as she remembered that night. It had been over with that night. Her baby boy had been conceived in that moment, and she never saw Draco again after he found out. For awhile, they corresponded via owl. Ginny told him that she was sorry, but she couldn't be with him anymore. She had fallen in love with Harry and was ashamed of the way she had been treating her fiance. Somehow, Draco had been too heartbroken to realize how much of a lie it was.

Months slowly passed, and the Weasleys had to find out about the new addition that was on its way. "It's Harry's," Ginny had announced, ignoring a skeptical Harry. They had used protection, what were the chances that they had conceived this baby? But, nevertheless, Harry had been thrilled to find out that he had a son or a daughter on the way. Harry grew fond of laying in bed with her, stroking the baby.

That was, until the sixth month. It had all ended the day Harry found that locket in Ginny's bureau. The M for Malfoy couldn't be explained away, and Ginny had confessed with a hopeful heart. But Harry had announced that it was over, and just like that the wedding was off.

Ginny smiled down at her little boy who had fallen asleep at her breast. She stood slowly and carried him to his crib, laying him once more in his blankets. She felt safe again, knowing that her dream was just a figment of her imagination. Harry would never hurt her or her baby. Ginny re-buttoned her nightgown as she returned to her bed and curled up beneath the blankets, ready to wait until morning. She wished she could get the image of her Malfoy Prince out of her head, get the sounds of his breathing out of her ears. She could not. The truth was, she missed him with all that she had. Every morning she got up and envied the woman that was privileged enough to wake up beside him, and every night she went to bed envying the same woman who got to lay beside him and beneath him at night. It should have been her.

But no matter how in love with Draco she might have been, she would never tell anyone that she had born his baby. Harry knew, but Harry had agreed to silence. In return, Ginny had told everyone that it was in fact Harry's baby… but that she had broken off the engagement. It was a lie, of course, but what was another lie? It was nothing. The only problem was the way that Harry wanted nothing to do with the little boy… Ginny couldn't blame him, of course. She wouldn't want anything to do with a baby that turned out not to be hers either.

But the baby was beautiful. Ginny smiled to herself, thinking about her son. He made this all worth it, the whole mess. She hadn't named him yet, though. He was still just her lovely, beautiful, precious little baby. Her son…

The mother yawned in time with her sons even breathing. As troubled as her thoughts were, her body was beginning to shut back down. She knew that she needed her sleep before the boy woke up again, but she just couldn't seem to shut down her mind. Minutes passed and Ginny finally climbed from her bed again and padded quietly over to the desk that rested on the wall with the crib. She pulled out parchment and a quill, uncorked the ink pot, and began…

Dearest Dragon, (that was what she had always called him, lest a letter be intercepted)

I need to speak to you very soon. It is very important, and I can't sent it via this - or any - owl. Please tell me when I can come and see you.

Your Lover

Ginny stared down at the parchment in her hand, wishing that she could say more. I miss you. I love you. She smiled to herself as she folded her note and stuffed it into an envelope. She then sealed it and tiptoed towards her bedroom door. With only a slight sense of foreboding left over from the nightmare, Ginny slowly opened the door and tiptoed out into the hallway. The house was still silent, her parents and brother fast asleep in their own rooms, unaware of anything going on. Ginny crept down the stairs and into the kitchen where Pig sat, asleep on his roost. She cooed softly to the owl, stroking his sleeping wings. Pig let out a kind of bird's sigh in response and looked up into her eyes.

Ginny was struck with gratitude for this little bird. As she handed him the letter she remembered all the times that he had carried secret notes to a secret lover without complaint. Eager as always, Pig grabbed the letter in his beak and cocked his head towards Ginny.

"Take this to the Manor," Ginny whispered conspiratorially to the bird, "and make sure that he gets it." She was answered with a coo as Pig hopped in place for a moment before taking off out the open window.

Now all that was left to do was to wait. Ginny continued to watch out the window even after the bird had disappeared into the night sky. She counted stars until she lost track, forgetting what had been counted already, wondering if maybe he did the same… but the mother in Ginny soon told her that it was time to catch what little sleep she had time for before the baby woke up and demanded all of her.


The little boy in Ginny's arms fussed quietly as she regained her balance. She had never Apparated while holding him before, and it was harder than she would have thought. The dizzying sensation must have frightened him, the poor thing. But there had been no other way to get here… Floo powder wasn't safe for an infant and, besides, she didn't want to show up with ash smudged all over her. That would never do.

Ginny rocked her boy until he hushed, and then she set off across the green grass to the rear of the Malfoy gardens. Fenced in, of course, there was one place where the wrought iron bars were missing. This was where Ginny had always snuck in before, waiting in the gardener's shed until Draco came to collect her, announcing that the coast was clear.

And so Ginny waited inside the little wooden shed, baby asleep. The gardening tools were all perfectly clean and looked brand new. It seemed like a long time before the door opened and he walked in.

Draco Malfoy was as lean and as handsome as ever. His hair was shorter than it had been last time, combed neatly back. His steal grey eyes looked excited or nervous, Ginny couldn't tell which. He wore black pants and a button up… as if he knew how much Ginny liked that pair of pants and he was only doing it to tease her. He closed the door and stood facing her, staring into her face, lips slightly parted.

"Draco," Ginny breathed, "I missed you." She blurted before she could stop herself, clutching Baby to her chest tighter.

Draco glanced at the baby in her arms, his lips pursing slowly as he did, "What's that?" was his answer.

Suddenly, Ginny wished that she had just told him through an owl. Her mind seemed to go blank, and she felt nothing but an urge to wrap her arms around Draco and feel loved. She had to remind herself for a moment that she was this baby's mother and had to look after him. "This is… your baby." She was finally able to say, hold him out towards the man.

In response, Draco crossed his arms. "Why didn't you tell me?" he finally hissed. He looked like he had been punched in the stomach as he eyed his son.

Ginny lowered her eyes and pulled her son back towards her body. "I want you to… help me care for him. I'm sorry about what's happened, but I thought that Harry would raise him and it would all be okay." She felt guilty beneath the harsh glare of the Malfoy, and wanted only to see the spark of love in his eyes again, either for her or for his offspring. "He is yours," she whispered.

He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. "Ginevra," he said, his voice hard, "I have a beautiful wife with a baby on the way. I haven't spoken to you in nearly a year." His eyes seemed angry. "I wish… that I had known that I was a father a long time ago."

Ginny's heart sank. "I only want for him to have a father… and to have a lover again."

Malfoy threw up his hands. "I have a lover, and she isn't you," he said, but added quickly, "Gin… I miss you, really. I did love you, with my entire heart and my soul. But when you left me, you changed that."

"Take me back?" she asked, "I love you. I always have! And I don't want to wait for our lives to be over. I want to know right now, what will it be? What will we be?"

Draco took a step closer, placed his hands on Ginny's shoulders, and grabbed her lips between his own. He opened his mouth and forced his tongue inside of her, tasting her tongue, her cheeks, her lips. He kissed her with all the passion of the man that she once knew, and her hopes rose for herself and for the baby that she cradled in between their bodies.

And then it was over.

Draco stepped back abruptly, licked his lips, and said, "We will be what we have been: nothing. I have a lover already, I have a baby on the way already. I don't need you." But a tear was rolling slowly down his face.

Ginny's eyesight fogged over with tears as well as she stared at her former lover. She couldn't say anything, couldn't find it in herself to. Not even when he turned and opened the door, walking away from the young half-family in the garden shed and slamming the door behind himself.

The baby awoke and began to cry, his mother's tears joining his own in small little rivers flowing down his tender cheeks.