in which the wood is chopped
Ginny had never imagined this would be happening in a billion years. If she could tell her past self, Merlin she would be so disappointed.
Around Draco’s kitchen table sat an outright strange collection of people. Pansy was watching the group with near-excited eyes, which would normally have been a regular occurrence, but considering the situation, was nothing short of inappropriate. Blaise was practically wrapped around Charlie, consoling him, gazing at him lasciviously. Draco was frozen, his hand gently stroking Ginny’s own as the rock that had fallen into her stomach was growing heavier by the second.
And Ron. Ron.
Ginny’s darling, utterly overbearing, older brother was staring straight into her.
“And why can’t this just be fixed by potions? You’re a wizard?” Pansy asked.
Ron let out a short laugh, gazing at Hermione like there was some inside joke everyone else was missing.
Hermione sighed, clutching her husband tighter, “It’s not like that. Cancer isn’t a wizard disease, we don’t even know how he got it.”
“Maybe he’s secretly a squib now,” Blaise offered, clearly not reading the signs, “I’ve heard too much time with muggles can do that you know.”
“And I’ve heard too much time with coke can turn you stupid, but that’s proven by you,” Draco shot back. Ginny squeezed his hand gratefully, at least one of her friends had some tact.
Hermione shot Draco a tired, but ultimately thankful look.
Ginny didn’t know how to feel, and she wasn’t quite sure she could. The pounding headache and screaming muscles were a thankful relief from the utter despair that was burning through her heart. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Ron had survived the war - they all had. They were supposed to be allowed to live -albeit for her not happily-, but still alive nonetheless.
“We went to your place. And to Molly’s. And to Harry’s.” Hermione said, rage running through her eyes.
“Well you shouldn’t have gone to Harry’s, why would I be there these days?” Ginny didn’t care that they’d gone searching for her in all the wrong places. For the brightest witch in her generation, Hermione severely lacked common sense.
She spent nearly every night at either Draco’s or Luna’s, the last time she’d been home was maybe a month ago - probably more.
“Ginny, please,” Charlie begged, ever the mediator.
“Alright, Weasley’s dying, yadda yadda,” Pansy spoke, “I still don’t understand why you’re all here. You could’ve just fire called.”
Parkinson finally spoke the question on everyone’s minds. Why had they all come to Draco’s place, knowing full well who’d be there, and the state Ginny would be in.
“Right. Well,” Ron began, looking at Hermione for reassurance,”
“Go on, love,” Hermione murmured.
“Okay, well, I have a proposition.”
Pansy grinned, “Well love, if you wanted me to join you for a night, you really could’ve just owled, I’m not against a little charity myself.
Hermione frowned, and Ron just continued, used to the antics of Ginny’s friends. “I want to have a party.”
Well, that was something new.
“Come again?” Pansy asked her mouth just as wide as Ginny’s own.
“Well you know, I’m dying…” Ron trailed off, and that did nothing to aid Ginny’s confusion.
“Alright so, correct me if I’m wrong love,” Pansy began, “You want to have a party because you’re dying? A death party. Sounds rather dour if you ask me.”
Draco stood up, finally seeming to see Ron through new eyes. “No, I think I get it. A last celebration of life, we’re young, you missed out on so much.” Ginny noticed how he changed pronouns there, dropping himself from the sentence. Draco had never quite managed to manage his survivor’s guilt, his self-hatred.
Ron nodded, grateful. “Yes. But our house is so small, and we never really party, you know…”
Draco grinned, and he seemed to finally understand. “You want me to throw it for you. A nice Gryffindor party at Malfoy mansion. Never would’ve thought we’d reach that day.”
“So you’ll do it?” Charlie asked, finally speaking. Ginny’s heart broke at the way her brother’s voice wavered, his sorrow was felt throughout the room.
“Well, I didn’t say that. I mean parties are expensive, and this is a very big house,” Draco trailed off, glancing expectantly at Hermione.
Hermione and Ron looked at each other, seemingly having a conversation between the two of them.
“I mean,” Hermione began slowly, “We have some money saved up for…” A hand touched her stomach unknowingly and Ginny’s heart fell.
“Granger. That was a joke. Albeit a bad one. Of course, I’ll do it, I’d do nothing less for the heroes of the wizarding world.”
Ron nodded, something still holding him back from peace quite yet. “One more thing. This is, you won’t like it.”
“Well spit it out Weasley,” Pansy sighed, “We do have a party to plan after all.”
Ron and Hermione shared a glance again, and then Ginny could feel their gazes on her and Draco. She knew what they wanted to ask.
“You want to have Harry here,” Ginny said, and Ron and Hermione nodded nearly in sync.
“Done,” Draco said for the both of them, but Ginny knew he had his doubts.
“And Cho,” Ron said, chewing on his bottom lip as he stared back at the pair.
Draco audibly sighed, seemingly thinking the idea over in his head.
“Just say yes Draco, he’s not going to be around much longer,” Pansy muttered, and Ginny shot her a glare.
“Fine. Fine. We’ll have Potter and his little wife around for the party. But I swear to Merlin if I see him and his new witch fucking anywhere in this house, he’ll be thrown out on the spot.”
“Fair enough,” Charlie spoke up, finally standing as he extracted himself from Blaise’s grip. Ginny couldn’t help noticing the way his hands seemed to linger as he stood - coping mechanisms must run in the family.
They all left together after that, with only Ron giving Ginny a tight hug before they departed. Ginny let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding as the group finally left the wards.
Draco had given her access to all ward capability ages ago, and her senses always seemed on edge when someone she knew was in them.
“Well, I suppose we’d better get started on invitations,” Pansy finally spoke, glancing down at her nails.
“You all have fun with that,” Blaise stood, “I am going to catch up on some much-needed sleep.” He sauntered away, and Ginny couldn't help staring at his ass as he went, though she doubted he was the only one.
“Reckon he’s gonna fuck your brother?” Pansy asked, grinning toothily at Ginny.
Ginny scowled, and Pansy just laughed in response. “Lighten up love, you’re not the one dying.”
Draco just sighed, “God Pans, we need to have a discussion about manners, you’re truly a piece of work,”
“Yeah well, I’d like to work on that doomed brother of yours, Gin. Granger too for that matter.” Pansy replied.
“Pansy I swear I’m going to kill you one day,” Ginny replied, dropping her head onto the table.
“Pans, maybe let me and Weasley handle this one, okay?” Draco asked gently, sliding down to sit beside Ginny.
Pansy mumbled something and Ginny’s sensitive feelings, and wandered off, heading up towards the bedrooms.
“Love, this is the fun part,” Draco said, nudging Ginny gently.
“In what way?” Ginny complained, turning her head so she could still see Draco while lying on the table.
“Well, we get to decide who to bring. Specifically who to fuck. And some of those Gryffindors look quite a bit different these days,” Draco grinned, and Ginny tried to give him a smile, for his sake as well as hers.
“This is going to be a mess Draco. For you, me, Pansy, Ron. Fuck, for everyone coming, even Harry fucking Potter.”
“At least the papers will have some interesting tidbits on the Golden Boy the next morning,” Draco offered, conjuring a quill and scroll.
“Alright, Finnegan and Thomas?”
Ginny nodded, shutting her eyes.
“Brown?”
“Dead.”
“Patil?”
“One killed herself, one’s in rehab.”
“Hm. I’ll put the second one down for a maybe then,”
Ginny laughed despite herself. This was going to be a long morning.