Ginny Weasley: Maid in Malfoy Manor

Ginny Weasley: Maid in Malfoy Manor

*

Chapter Eleven:

Fatal Attraction

"Ginny, after you're through washing the dishes, you could go to the back garden and pick up the vegetables Matilda was requesting," Mary ordered. "And be careful! You won't want to break anything ever again after your disaster with the ancient alliance cup. Honestly, I still can't believe how you got out of that one!"

Taking one swift look at the kitchen, where Ginny was laboriously scrubbing ceramics and pans alike, Mary rushed out of the kitchen door, probably to check what the others were doing with their own chores to complete. It seemed like ever since Vanessa visited the Manor almost three weeks ago, things had been hectic and tense around the mansion. Everybody seemed on edge and overly stressed about the upcoming wedding. This confused Ginny for she saw no reason for them to be so uptight. After all, the wedding was still more or less four months from now. There was plenty of time! Why were they in such a hurry?

These thoughts brought Ginny renewed vigor to scrub the stubborn dirt off the pans more forcefully. The wedding was getting to her nerves more than she liked. Especially now that her life roughly consisted of working her head off for an event she hardly thought was worth celebrating.

Life at Malfoy Manor, after being back from visiting her parents and Ron, was uncannily peaceful. And though that was a good thing for most people, it bothered Ginny. Her daily routine, which consisted of kitchen chores, serving of the family's dinner and random wedding preparation tasks, was getting quite tiresome. But though she tried hard to refrain from thinking about it, what was really bothering her, from the moment that she had set foot in the manor after her one day visit, was Draco's indifference to her. No, not just normal lack of concern that masters have for their servants, it seemed that he was purposely trying to avoid her.

Not that Ginny was expecting a kind of special treatment from him, even given the fact that she had gone to the ball with him and had a surprisingly good time. But there really was this distinct coldness that suddenly radiated from the sarcastic but profound boy that threw Ginny off. As much as she wanted to deny it, she knew that there was something wrong. He wouldn't disregard her all of a sudden, especially after saving her from near extinction with that Slytherin alliance cup fiasco that she had stupidly gotten herself into.

It had been two weeks since he had last spoken to her. The last time, he merely asked her to clean his fireplace again, and then rushed off to go somewhere else, leaving Ginny alone in his vast bedroom. The Ginny two months before would have probably relished the silence of the deserted room, but this Ginny was just plain confused. There were so many things that she wanted to say to him, about the ball, about the chaotic dinner with his fiancée, who she had grown fond to call the Frozen Queen of the Artic City, and especially, what she had said to her. This was what bothered Ginny the most. She couldn't put head nor tails to the comment, but she had a funny feeling that she somehow knew, deep inside, what she was talking about. But it was preposterous! There was no way that she could've known!

Known what anyway? Nothing happened! At least nothing that could be seen by the naked eye.

Ginny finished the last of the pans and put them carefully to their respective racks and left them to dry. She then picked up a basket that would be later filled with various vegetables from the garden for the Cook's delight if she did her job right. She then opened the back door and went out to the manor's ironically sunny backyard. It didn't seem right that a family so into sinister activities had a garden as alive and vibrant as this one.

Everything was quiet, and Ginny was forced again to succumb to her thoughts as she cut into stems and flowers. She tried with all her might not to think of the horrid things that kept popping to her brain, but it was no use. She was starting to feel more foolish by the second. She tried in vain to push the thought aside that maybe, there was nothing wrong with Draco, but there was definitely something wrong with her. Who was she to think that after a stupid ball, she was entitled more attention from him? And why, all of a sudden, she wanted to actually have more attention from him?

What was wrong with her?

It seemed that she had asked that question way too many times already, since the day that she had accepted this stupid job. But she couldn't help thinking again about that monumental night when everything she believed in came tumbling down, and she was forced to accept the new idea that things were really not as black and white as they may seem...

***

"So."

"So."

"How's dear old Ron?" asked Draco in a desperate attempt to fill in the heavy silence. They had been going like this for a while now. Talking then bickering, having a decent conversation then squabbling fervently, enough to make feisty cats ashamed.

Ginny stiffened as if taken off guard. Draco could tell that she really didn't want to talk about it and this made him feel worse. It was really not his intention to make her feel more uncomfortable.

"He's fine," Ginny murmured. "He may have lost his 20/20 vision but he still hates you with intense passion so that rules out neurological damage as far as I can tell."

"Oh, well, good for him," Draco replied. "Tell him the feeling's mutual."

"Will do."

"Though who knows, I might actually pay a visit and give the regards myself."

Draco almost laughed out loud when he glanced at Ginny and saw her looking horrified. Draco was sure that if she was eating something at that moment, she would be choking to death right about now.

"You know that's a great idea," Ginny replied. "Mom would welcome you with open arms armed with kitchen knives and Ron would try to break your royal neck. He may be blind, but he could still sense the general direction of your head, seeing how enormous it is. Dad's unconscious most of the time but I know he'll be sending major karma vibes your way. Hmm, sounds like fun, let's go right now."

Despite himself, Draco laughed. And before he knew it, he was laughing so hard his sides were hurting. Ginny was looking at him as if he had grown a third head but was trying hard to suppress a smile herself. This brought Draco into another fit of laughter.

"What?" Ginny couldn't help but laugh too at Draco's uncharacteristic attitude.

When the sudden gush of amusement had died down, Draco suddenly turned serious and looked directly at Ginny, his piercing silver eyes probing hers, a faint smile still etched in his lips.

"You lot really hate me that much, huh?"

It was not a question, just a mere statement in a tone that sounded foreign even to Draco's ears.

"Well, we try," Ginny answered. "Ron attempted a spell once that would make you sprout mushrooms and grow tentacles all over your body, but it kind of backfired because he heard the instructions wrong, seeing that he's blind and all."

"Seriously?" Draco had a peculiar smile painted on his face. He had no idea why this strange, possibly bogus tale was amusing him so.

"Yes, then Mom baked your family a cake once," Ginny added.

"Oh, very thoughtful of her."

"Yeah," she continued. "It was a cake that would burn your intestines from the inside out, but it never got to you for some reason. I think the owl ate it. Or one of your servants."

"Now, that was unfortunate."

"Very," Ginny agreed. "Your father should really have a talk with your staff. Can't have servants that would probably eat half the food at the wedding now, can you?"

Draco laughed.

"You're playing with me, Virginia,"

Ginny smiled mischievously. "So what if I am?"

***

"Draco, can I have a word with you?" The stern voice of Lucius Malfoy was enough to snap Draco out of his reluctant reverie. He didn't mean to be thinking about that night again, but there it was, stuck in his brain, repeating over and over again as if charmed by Flitwick into a perpetual loop.

"Yes, Father?"

The two wizards were in the garden, sitting at the manor's sunny patio. One was reading the newspaper with a smug look on his face and one was pretending to read a book entitled, "Darkness and Beyond: A Complete Guide to Magic's Most Potent and Dangerous Spells". Draco couldn't help thinking that, to a stranger's eye, he and his father looked strangely out of place in the sun-drenched backyard, dressed in all black and reading evil themed books, appearing to have a father and son bonding session.

"I was just wandering over the china cabinet in the main sitting room earlier, looking for the head sculpture of great uncle Scorpicious, when I noticed that the Slytherin Alliance Cup, which was given to our family thousands of years ago, is missing," Lucius started.

Draco stiffened. He could tell that his father was eyeing him very closely.

"Really?" Draco answered, cautious not to look too anxious. "Why do you need the head of great uncle Scorpicious for? It'll look dreadful in the living room. Or any other place where it could be seen. Better leave it be, hidden inside the china cabinet where it can terrify no one."

"You do not amuse me, boy," Lucius snapped. "Where is the Alliance Cup?"

"How would I know?" Draco replied nonchalantly.

"Are you sure that you have no idea where it has gone?" Lucius asked once again, a vile threatening sound already evident in his voice.

"Maybe it got misplaced," answered Draco. "I too, have many experiences of my boxer shorts, the one with little snitches on them, missing from my room and suddenly rematerializing at the servants' quarters. Honestly, I have no idea how it got there."

Lucius eyed him suspiciously.

"Why are you asking me, Father?" Draco replied, becoming more agitated by the second. "Better ask Mother too, maybe she used the cup for tea at one of those parties she likes to keep throwing."

Draco couldn't help but think that there was this possibility that his father already knew what had happened and was just testing him.

But that can't be, Draco thought. Or else he'll be furious by now.

Lucius looked at him intently and Draco met his unwavering gaze. Then after a few moments, Lucius seemed to give up, but there was still suspicion marked along his face.

"I'll talk to your mother when she gets here from Knockturn Alley," said Lucius, turning a page of the newspaper in his hand. "If she doesn't know anything about the sudden disappearance of the Slytherin Alliance Cup, then it will be the servants' turn to quiver." He then proceeded into reading his newspaper as if nothing happened.

Draco blanched. He was thankful that his father had resumed reading the paper or else, he might have noticed that his son had suddenly turned into a sickly shade of pasty white. He had not expected his father to react this way to such a seemingly insignificant thing. Okay, well, maybe not that insignificant. Draco knew that the Alliance Cup was one of the most prized treasures of the whole Malfoy clan, but Draco didn't realize, up until that moment, how importantly his father took the safety of his most valued possessions. The Cup was like any other cup in the house, in Draco's honest opinion. And though it came from Slytherin himself, thousands of years back, it did not hold any magical powers that objects of that age normally had. One would've thought that coming from Slytherin, it would possess magic beyond imagination, but it was just a dirty old cup. Fancily made, yes, but just a cup nonetheless.

That was why Draco only hesitated for a moment before putting the remains of the ruined cup into the bin.

Draco's head was reeling. He knew, that the moment his mother clarified that she had nothing to do with the disappearance of the Cup, the servants would be in an unenviable situation and no doubt, upon interrogation, Mary would happily confess everything to Lucius. Then Ginny...

It all came to him in a sudden wave of understanding. He couldn't let his Father come to the point of questioning the servants, because by then, all was already lost. He knew what his father was capable of doing when he was angry, and in Draco's opinion, the disastrous consequences of his own actions were not at all worth the breakage of one silly cup.

But you didn't break the cup, remember? Draco's sinister side was starting to show itself in sardonic currents of logic. Why make it your problem when you did nothing wrong? It was even you who actually tried to prevent the incident from snowballing, but you can't do anything now. It's not your problem, leave it be.

But Draco couldn't. However spiteful he was, he knew that he would never forgive himself if one stupid ceramic cost another's life. Draco knew that his father would not hesitate, even for a second, to punish the guilty servant as he saw fit. And that usually included torture weapons of various shapes and sizes or, even in not so extreme cases, a jet of intense green light.

And before he could think of anything else, Draco made up his mind.

"Okay, you got me," Draco confessed, wincing internally while waiting for the outburst to come. "I broke the glass."

Lucius looked up from the paper that he was reading with remarkable speed, his eyes as wide as saucers. A disbelieving gaze fell upon Draco.

"You what?"

***

He did what?

Ginny was stunned. She couldn't move. She didn't mean to overhear Draco and Lucius' discussion in the patio, but the vegetable garden was way too close to where they were lounging in. Ginny had temporarily forgotten her task and listened in intently, incredulity seeping through her veins.

What was he thinking?

"What the hell were you doing rummaging through the china cabinet in the main sitting room?" Lucius bellowed, his face contorting into a terrifying expression of rage. "What were you thinking even breathing near the Alliance Cup? You know how precious it is, irreplaceable! One of the most valued possession of our family that-"

Ginny still couldn't believe her ears. Was this actually happening? Was Draco taking the blame for himself? Just like what she had done to Emma?

"Father, I know, and I'm...very regretful of what happened," Draco apologized. If one could call that an apology. He seemed uncomfortable, as if incapable of saying the actual word, but actually looked remorseful, despite the fact that he had nothing to apologize about. "I was... looking for old aunt Masthiusa's old... um... Mirror of... what's it called? The hand held mirror that would throw compliments every time you look into it. Well, I was searching through the closet and accidentally bumped into the cup and it fell..."

Lucius looked aghast and was still unconvinced. Ginny knew that it was a weak story but was still immensely grateful for Draco for saving her from Lucius' wrath. She couldn't imagine what would happen if she was the one confessing to Lucius about breaking the Slytherin Alliance Cup. Why he was saving her, well, that was another question...

"I tried mending it though, but we both know that it's useless," Draco continued, his tone becoming tenser. "It repels magic, you see-"

"Yes, I know the cup repels magic!" Lucius yelled at the top of his lungs, his face turning into a distinguishable shade of red. "What I don't get is why you were looking through the china cabinet when you are well aware that the mirror is in your Mother's bedroom and has been there for almost a decade now!"

Draco looked caught off guard but he quickly regained his composure, much to Ginny's relief.

"Oh, it was there all along? I have no idea!" Draco let out an obviously phony laugh that even Ginny cringed when she heard it. Draco was fighting to keep his head above water and Lucius was looking more and more murderous by the minute. "I thought Mother placed it on the china cabinet, along with the other handed down items from our ancestors. I think I heard her mention something, not too long ago, about the mirror being exceedingly talkative that she decided to put it away."

Lucius, with his fury, was rendered speechless.

"Father, it doesn't matter," Draco said, confidence somehow seeping to his voice. "The purpose of the cup was to show the whole wizarding world how powerful our family is, to the point of having that close a relationship with Slytherin himself. But Father, we don't need a stupid cup to prove that anymore. They loathe us but they fear us also. We rule the wizarding world and there is nothing that they can do about it. A decade ago, we might have needed that silly old glass to prove to the world how dominant our family is, but gone are the times when that senile Dumbledore and Harry Potter: "The Boy Who Died" ruled our world. They are finished, rotting ten feet below the ground, just as they should be. The wizarding world is now ours. And if that's not a concrete proof on how tremendously powerful we are, then I don't know what is."

Lucius' face was turning back to its normal color. He seemed to be considering Draco's insight very seriously.

"It's just a cup, Father," Draco added, an ominous smile etched in his pale lips. He seemed to be enjoying himself. "We are as powerful without it."

Ginny felt a pang of sorrow in her stomach as she heard Harry's name fall out of Draco's mouth. It had been quite a long time since she last heard the name said in such contempt and indifference. In such blunt cruelty.

They are finished, rotting ten feet below the ground, just as they should be.

As much as she was grateful for Draco for saving her from inevitable doom, she still felt an innermost hatred directed solely at the boy who treated them like crap for years, who was incredibly cowardly, but had the nerve to insult the bravest and most honorable person she, and the whole wizarding world, had ever known.

He hadn't changed at all.

Ginny cowered in the corner, hiding behind the bushes, trying with all her might to stop a tear that was threatening to fall from her eyes. She did not want to cry. She won't. She owed Harry that much. She needed to be strong, for her family, for him. From that moment, she didn't yearn to talk to Draco anymore, she was better off without him, and it repulsed her to think that she even wanted him to pay more attention to her. Screw him and his fiancée, who was in no position to be threatening her with anything. Nothing had happened between them and nothing ever will.

***

He hasn't changed a bit and it was stupid for me to think that he ever will, Ginny thought as she furiously pushed the soapy mop along the kitchen floor. How dare he speak ill of Harry like that?

It was already after dinnertime. Ginny had point blank refused to serve the family dinner that night so Mary gave her extra work taking care of the dishes and the kitchen floor. Ginny felt another pang of grief as thoughts of Harry and happy memories of their Hogwarts years intruded into her brain. With the monotony of tending the floor, there seemed to be no escape from the painful reminiscence of a yesterday that now seemed like a fairy tale.

Had it really happened? Had she actually attended Hogwarts for six years? Made friends and had the time of her life? Had she actually been a part of a one big happy family that consisted of more brothers that she could handle? Ate immeasurable amounts of food and wore personalized sweaters at Christmas? Had the infamous Harry Potter actually fell in love with her, just like what she had been dreaming and daydreaming for years? If all of that were true, then, where were they now? Where was everybody?

Ginny wiped the sweat from her brow and the tears off her cheeks. A year after the Final Battle, Ginny rarely cried for all that they had lost. She had managed to present a brave face to everybody. This was one of those rare moments that she let her grief and her sorrow wash over her in thick waves of regret and longing.

Ginny dipped her mop in the pail full of soapy water and started to soap up the last dry square in front of the doorway. She tried to compose herself. Crying won't do her any good. At that moment, the kitchen door swung open, banging Ginny on the forehead and practically knocking her over. What the-?

"Oh!" a voice exclaimed. Someone stepped into the room and rushed towards her. "Are you all right?"

Ginny froze. Though her vision was swimming and her head was throbbing uncontrollably, she couldn't help but be frozen in place.

What is he doing here?

"It's okay," Ginny finally said, steadying herself against the counter. She started swaying involuntarily, her vision still reeling from the piercing pain of her forehead colliding with the sharp edges of the door.

"Here, let me help you," Draco awkwardly offered and Ginny let herself be led to the servants' table. Ginny tried to avoid thinking about Draco's hand on her waist and how he smelled like pepper and freshly cut grass. You're mad at him, remember?

"I'm okay, really," Ginny assured him, primarily because she wanted him to leave as soon as possible.

"Are you sure?" Draco asked. His eyes had an odd look in it. Ginny couldn't place it.

"I'm fine," Ginny answered. "What are you doing here anyway?" She couldn't help but ask.

"I was..." Draco hesitated. "I was actually looking for you."

Ginny did a double take.

What did he say?

"You are?" said Ginny, quite taken aback.

"I just..." Draco hesitated once again. It seemed as if he was not used to these kinds of situations. "I just... wanted to apologize."

Now Ginny was confused. This must be a dream.

"For what?" Ginny couldn't think of any reason why Draco would be apologizing to her. She didn't even think that Draco was capable of an apology.

"I..." Draco started, looking terribly out of his comfort zone. "Let's just say that I know that you heard everything in the garden earlier, about the cup and the things I said, and that I'm... I just wanted to explain that I had to say it to reel Father in. I had no choice."

Ginny stared at him.

"A little Potter Abuse and I know he'll forget all about the Alliance Cup," Draco added, looking quite proud, as if that explained everything.

"Wha...?" Ginny was beyond confused. Then anger came rushing in. That's his sorry?

"Okay, that's it, that's my speech," Draco said, shuffling his feet and looking warily at his surroundings. He never looked so out of place. "You're a smart girl, you'll understand."

A beat passed. Then...

"That's your sorry?" Ginny exclaimed, genuinely furious at the clueless, arrogant blond in front of her. "You've insulted the bravest man the wizarding world had ever known and that's your sorry? That's not even an apology!"

Draco looked affronted.

"You should thank me, you know," Draco said; apparently back to being his conceited, selfish alter ego. "If I hadn't taken the blame, you'll be in big trouble. You should be worshipping me right now! Offering me flowers and a nice fruit basket!"

Ginny was beyond herself. How dare he?

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Ginny with all the sarcasm and spite that she could muster. "I forgot to thank you for abusing the memory of the only man I've ever loved. How can I ever repay you for such kindness?"

Draco unexpectedly had no retort to that. He actually looked surprised

"Oh," Draco said, more like whispered. "I didn't know you two were that... close."

How Draco had never heard that Ginny and Harry went out their sixth year, escaped Ginny. She thought that the whole Hogwarts knew about them. Even Witch Weekly printed an article about their inevitably tragic relationship. Apparently, even the professors of Hogwarts were more up to date with Teen news than Draco Malfoy was.

"We were," she replied.

Draco looked down at the floor and nodded in a defeated sort of way which didn't make sense to Ginny.

"Look, I just want to hear an actual apology," Ginny sighed, her resentment at Draco slowly subsiding. "Preferably with the words 'I'm' and 'sorry'."

Though he could never seem to go through with it, she appreciated his effort for actually trying. Lord knows that she expected a lot less coming from him. He didn't even have to try to apologize in the first place. Ginny didn't know that he saw her hiding behind the bushes.

Draco didn't speak but just continued to stare at the floor with a curious expression in his face. Ginny prodded some more.

"It's not that hard you know," she said. "It's just a four letter word, two syllables."

Draco looked up, his captivating silver eyes meeting Ginny's bewildered ones.

"I'm not Potter, Virginia," he said. "So don't expect me to suddenly be sharing my feelings in the middle of the night, asking apologies to everybody who I've done wrong. I'm not him and I'll never be."

There was a pause. Ginny didn't know what to say.

"If that's not good for you," Draco continued, "then I'm sorry."

He turned to leave but then stopped and turned around before reaching the kitchen door. Without warning and much to Ginny's astonishment, he grabbed Ginny's waist, tenderly touched her cheek and pressed his lips firmly upon hers.