Birthday Celebration - Part 8

The gleeful expressions on the faces of Fred and George told Harry that they would never let Ron live this down.

The people that get close to you have a nasty habit of ending up dead… If they're going to insist upon following me, it was more than likely that one or all could…

Harry shuddered, knowing he'd never survive their loss. Voldemort could never know that the surest way to destroy Harry would be to hurt any of them. He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't.

"Harry," Ginny said softly, taking his hand. Her eyes were glazed and slightly vacant, but she still appeared to sense his inner turmoil.

His head was spinning, and he suddenly felt very old and tired. He may have only just turned seventeen, but he felt as if he'd already lived several lifetimes.

"Everything will be okay," Ginny whispered, shifting so she could burrow her head under his arm. "Try not to worry so much."

"Oh, isn't this a sight," a drawling voice said from the doorway.

Harry looked up to see Draco Malfoy leaning against the doorframe, an undecipherable expression upon his pale face. His blond hair was unkempt, hanging over his eyes in a very un-Malfoyish way.

"What do you want?" Ron asked, jumping to his feet and wavering slightly.

"I came to investigate the cause of all the noise. I hadn't realized I was interrupting your pathetic little party," Malfoy sneered.

Ginny started to laugh, wrapping her arms around her waist to try and control her giggles.

Harry smiled at her, amused, while she caught her breath.

"He really does look like a ferret," she said, gasping.

"Shut it, Weaslette," Malfoy said, his gray eyes flashing. "You pathetic little blood traitor. Consorting with Potter and the Mudblood – you're a disgrace to your heritage. Of course, you always had a thing for Potty anyway, didn't you?"

"Watch your mouth," Ron snarled, clenching his fists.

"Leave her out of it, Malfoy," Harry snarled, jumping off the bed and raising his wand. He'd been looking for an outlet for his tension all evening, and the blonde represented the perfect opportunity. "Don't let me ever hear you speak to her that way again."

Ginny had stopped giggling and was desperately trying to focus on what was happening.

"Leave her out of it? She's already at the center of it, Potter. God, you really are naïve, aren't you? Snape already told the Dark Lord all about your little girlfriend. It's no more likely she'll survive this war than you will," Malfoy said.

The people that get close to you have a nasty habit of ending up dead…

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry demanded through clenched teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing that his words had any effect on Harry. "I'm certain you were only too happy to confirm that before Voldemort turned on you."

"I was just wondering why the Light's precious Chosen One is holed up in a bedroom getting pissed with his little band of cronies while everyone is waiting for him to save the world. I don't think their faith would be that strong if they could see you now, Potter."

"Why not?" Ron asked belligerently, moving to stand in front of Harry. "I think it would do everyone some good to see that Harry isn't letting V-Voldemort interfere with him living his life."

Malfoy flinched at the name, his eyes widening slightly that Ron had said it. Harry thought it was the first time he'd ever heard Ron actually say it, and wondered how much of that was the Firewhiskey talking.