Heir Apparent

Disclaimer: The words are mine, but the Harry Potter universe and its characters are the property of J.K. Rowling, et al.
Content Notes: Allusions to character death, angst, and pregnancy.

Draco kissed her, once and kissed the swell of her belly. "I have one last request for you, Weasley," he said, in a voice that tried hard not to break. She lifted her chin, and looked down her nose at him, none too pleased with his fatalism when she needed so badly to remain positive-when the Healers had warned them both of the risks if she didn't, but Draco had continued to speak of his death like she had no stake in it, like their child had none. "Tell her the truth about me."

Ginny pressed her lips tight together and breathed deep before she said, "You haven't listened to any of my requests-or the Healers'-but I'd like it if you could stay safe. I do worry about someone other than myself."

Draco all but laughed in her face. "If she's not incentive enough for you to stay safe, what more can I do?"

"She is. She should be for you, too."

"She can live without me, and so can you."

"Stay safe," she repeated, with tears in her eyes and a tremor at those firm lips.

"I can't."

Before she could muster an argument or more tears, Draco disappeared and Ginny knew that unlike Harry, he'd never come back. He was no hero, even if he'd looked like one, sounded like one. She'd seen the liquid courage he'd tried so hard to hide and she knew that by the time he reached You-Know-Who, the spark would be gone from his eye and his face would be pale, his limbs soft, his nerves high. She knew he'd be as terrified as she was, but in the end, Draco wouldn't betray her-them. He had too much to lose, now and though he was convinced his name would die with him-convinced the child was a girl-he took some comfort in the fact that there'd be one more generation of Malfoys, one last generation before they left the world forever.

Laying a hand flat against her stomach, Ginny walked to the kitchen, sat down at the broad, pine table, and she wept. All that she'd gained-or stood to gain-had come at the cost of all that she loved best and she had to ask herself: What legacy was that for a child who could've had the world?

Author's Notes: I usually avoid unhappy endings, but I wrote the fic on a whim and nothing else seemed quite as natural. Of course, I'd very much appreciate your thoughts; thank you for reading.