Masquerade

Masquerade

Ms. Virginia Weasley,

You are cordially invited to a Masquerade Ball in celebration of the 1,000^th anniversary of the opening of Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. We hope that this will provide an opportunity to become reacquainted with old classmates and friends, under the cover of both costumes and masks. It shall be held in the Great Hall of Hogwarts on Friday, the 22^nd of August, beginning at 7pm and ending just after midnight. Please send an owl to inform us of your attendance.

Sincerely,

The Hogwarts Staff

Ginny cocked her head as she read over the short invitation, a small smile edging across her face. A chance to see old faces and relax in a familiar place was just what she needed after the past weeks. She poured herself a cup of tea and sipped it, still holding the letter. On the other hand, being "reacquainted with old classmates" was only jovial and enjoyable if they were the RIGHT classmates. A night spent dodging hexes from the Slytherins was hardly the relaxation tool she needed.

She set her mug of tea down on a table before ushering her cat, Shadow, out of her armchair. He gave an irritated mew, and glared at her reproachfully as she gently stroked his black, grey, and white fur.

"Oh, I'm sorry, your highness," Ginny giggled, scooping the kitten up and rubbing noses with him. "I forgot that you own me, and not the other way around." He purred contentedly as he settled down in her lap, basking in the special attention she lavished on his ears and neck.

Ginny picked up the invitation once again, gazing fondly at the school seal that lay imprinted at the top. "What do you think, Shad? Think I should give the ball a try?"

"Mrow?" Shadow stared at her as she stared back, giving her a puzzled glance.

"You say yes, your highness? Well, if I'm to go to a masquerade ball, we've got quite a bit of work to do, starting with that owl they want me to send." Ginny stood up, sending the disgruntled cat straight to the ground. "Let's get to work, Shadow!"

* * *

"Masquerade, painted faces on parade, masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you," Ginny sang happily as she rooted through her closet in hopes of finding a dress that she could alter for the Hogwarts Ball.

A loud crack sounded behind her, and she turned to find her brother, Ron, watching her with an amused smile on his face. "So, I'm assuming you're going to the Ball thing at school."

She glared at him menacingly. "Yes, and?"

"Don't get defensive on me," he said quickly, holding his hands out in a gesture of apology. "I was just asking." She snorted and went back to rooting through her closet.

Ron poked his head in over her, peering around. "What are you looking for, anyways?"

"A- mmph! A dress, Ron." Ginny grimaced as a shoebox fell directly on her head, and opened, spilling its contents all over the floor. Shadow, who had barricaded himself under her bed, darted out to take an old, ratty slipper hostage.

"Shadow! Give that back!" Ginny knelt down and stuck her head under the bed to recover the slipper from the "feline of doom". She jerked up as he flashed past her, kicking up dust. She sneezed, and her head smacked the bottom of her bed. "Bugger!"

"Gin, you alright?"

"Yes, Ron, I'm fine." She scooted out and sat up to see Ron holding one of her shirts up to himself and looking in a full-length mirror in the corner. He hurriedly threw it aside when he noticed her watching him and cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Ron, were you just-"

Ron quickly held up a finger, stopping her mid-sentence. "Uh uh, you know the golden Weasley rule. Ask me no questions..."

"And I'll tell you no lies," Ginny finished for him, grinning. Together, they went back to their closet search, sorting through all sorts of clothes.

"Ginny, I'm going to regret asking you this, but do you even know what you're going to go dressed as?"

Ginny stopped and pursed her lips in thought. "No, I was hoping that I'd see something that would inspire me. I guess it's not working very well."

Ron glanced around at the piles of clothes that lay around them. "No, I don't think it is."

He sat her down on the bed, snatching a pad of paper and a quill off her bed-table. "Now, let's brainstorm what types of things you'd like to go as. And no, don't say anything. I know Hermione's starting to rub off on me."

"Didn't even think of mentioning it." Ginny chuckled as he gave her a measuring glance. "No, it's all right, Ron. The last time you tried to help me with something like this, you ended up turning me into a pumpkin."

Ron flushed red. "That wasn't entirely my fault, you know."

"Yes it was. Now go home to Hermione, and don't tell her about how my shirt would have looked on you; she'll send you to counseling."

Ron rolled his eyes and Disapparated away.

Ginny sighed and picked through a pile of clothes on her bed. "Blech...when was the last time I went shopping for anything new. I swear, someday, I will get my bum over to Diagon Alley and buy myself so many..." She trailed off, picking up a tight leather top, sleeveless, with a thin slit along the top, just below the neckline. She looked at it speculatively, then grabbed a pair of loose, white fighting pants that she had gotten through her hand combat training class.

Her dresser drawer was thrown open. Leather wrist bands, a few good daggers, all sharp, and a pair of flexible leather shoes, soft, but sturdy. Finally, she opened a battered cedar chest and removed a sword, the scabbard hung on a strap that fit comfortably over her shoulder, leaving the sword easily accessible when she reached back.

With a slight smirk on her face, Ginny stood in the middle of the open room, muscled tensed, and feet spread in the defensive stance. Shadow jumped up onto the bed, looking at her curiously.

Without warning, she ripped the sword from its sheath and launched into a patterned routine long unpracticed. As she continued, she felt the familiar motions becoming more fluid, the rhythm of the sword and the feeling of the fight overcoming her. With a cry, she lunged forwards, freezing in the end position, perfectly balanced.

She shook herself and glanced over to see Shadow sitting on her bed, claws dug deep into her comforter and fur on end.

"Oh, my poor little Shadow, did I scare you with the big, sharp thing?" Ginny cooed, gathering him into her arms. "It's ok, Shad, I just got a little carried away." He hissed as she continued to pet him, slowly beginning to relax after his scare.

Ginny sighed, a tired smile touching her lips. "It's just been a long time since I went through that section of my Auror tests. Now I'm stuck doing desk work for a stupid fat man who only needs me around because he's too lazy to write his own reports. Shad, it's been two and a half years, and I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever finish training."

Shadow purred, obviously having forgiven her for her display earlier, and nuzzled her hand. She smiled again and grabbed the invitation off her bedside table. "You have to admit that this will be something they're not expecting. I can see people showing up as princesses, or as Greek goddesses, but I do believe I'll be more comfortable as the unattainable, murderous warrior woman, Femme Fatale!"

Her manic laughter filled the room before she cleared her throat and muttered, "Stop looking at me that way, Shadow, I am NOT a power-hungry maniac," before placing her costume in a corner of her room and padding off to the kitchen to get another mug of tea.

* * *

"Each of you will walk to this door, one at a time, and take a sip of Veritaserum so that we can be sure that you were indeed invited to this celebration. The great Unmasking will be at midnight, but please, keep your masks firmly in place until then. We welcome you all to Hogwarts tonight, and hope that you find this ball a memorable and enjoyable experience." Severus Snape stood at the doors of the Great Hall, thoroughly sick of saying that stupid speech over and over and over again. Really, couldn't Dumbledore have put him somewhere else for tonight?

He watched as young men and women walked in, dressed in beautiful robes with their faces masked. Even with masks, however, it didn't take him long to recognize the trademark Weasley hair and height of Ron, and the perfectly proportioned smile of his date, Ms. Granger. A princess and her knight in shining armor; he scoffed at the clichéd costume that he had seen many times tonight.

Potter, he reluctantly admitted, had done better, as a gypsy man, carrying a fiddle and bow that he occasionally played with a surprising level of skill. Of course, his creativity may have come from his gypsy dancing woman, Luna Lovegood.

He shook his head as even more students poured into the Hall, some alone, some in couples or in groups. In a slight break, he relaxed against a wall and sighed, closing his eyes. Music traveled up the corridor and he grimaced; waltzes had always sounded dreadfully dull to him. Someone quietly, yet firmly cleared their throat beside him and his eyes flew open.

A young woman stood staring back at him, adorned in a leather shirt, white pants, and leather wristbands and shoes. Her dark auburn hair was pulled back in a tight bun, tied securely with a leather tie that brought out the copper glow of her hair. A long sword hung at her back, nestled between her shoulder blades, and large hazel eyes peered out from over a black, veil-like material that covered the lower half of her face.

"Name?" He asked, confused in spite of himself. No girl he remembered would have dressed like this, distinctly lacking glittering jewels and skirts. No girl had the nerve to carry weapons with the cool air that this young lady held about her. No girl had the same acute balance and focus in her manner that radiated from this young woman.

She laughed lightly, a low, amused noise. "Why, Professor Snape, don't you know that this is a masked ball? Masks off at midnight, but until then, everyone remains nameless." She took a sip of Veritaserum and confirmed that she had been invited, and with that, strolled into the Great Hall. Severus stared after her, trying to figure out who that mystery woman had been.

Ginny walked among her old classmates, the soft fabric of her shoes making no noise on the marble floor. She found herself in the midst of a glittering group of grandly dressed wizards and witches, and completely enjoying the curious glances directed towards her. Females looked at her with surprise and some hesitation, while the men seemed to give her interested looks out of the corners of their eyes when their dates weren't looking. Turning down two offers to dance, she settled herself in a shadowed corner by the window and allowed herself to become immersed in the sights and sounds of the party.

The Great Hall had never looked so festive, each of the walls decorated in a different color for the four student houses; fiery scarlet for Gryffindor, midnight blue for Ravenclaw, a warm glowing yellow for Hufflepuff and forest green for Slytherin. Grinning, Ginny looked up at the Staff table to see her old professors serving refreshments. On the floor, couples twirled together, oblivious to the others around them.

The night wore on, and Ginny slowly emerged from her corner. She had found Harry, Luna, Ron and Hermione, and also Neville, Dean, Lavender, and Parvati. The Slytherins had formed a tight group over on their side of the room, and the bulks of Crabbe and Goyle were easily noted, as were the particularly unique voices of Pansy, Millicent, and Blaise.

Ginny found herself socializing with everyone, Gryffindors and Slytherins, third year students and people who had graduated decades before she had. She talked Quidditch with the boys, kept a comfortable silence around the gossiping girls, and entertained the young ones with some basic fencing steps. As the great clock struck nine, she found herself back near her corner, satisfied with the night so far.

She saw him before he even started towards her, dressed all in black with a black mask tied across his face. His long blonde hair was tied low on his neck, keeping it out of his face, and she saw both the ornamental dagger at his belt and the outlines of hidden ones in his sleeves and waistband. She was willing to bet that similar daggers could be found in both his boots.

Ginny watched him out of the corner of her eye as he stood, chatting with a group of men. They each cast glances towards her, eyes lingering a bit longer than necessary. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, a sudden burst of adrenaline sped through her veins, keeping her ready for anything. She kept her eyes focused on the dance floor as the man in black left the group after exchanging a few knowing glances, and began walking to her smoothly.

He approached her from her left side, and she rolled her eyes. Did that little fungus brain really think she wasn't just as capable on her left as she was on her right? As he reached out to touch her shoulder, she snatched his arm and tugged hard, moving into a throw that she particularly enjoyed. To her surprise, he slid with her pull, bending low to keep with her and swung her around to pull her flush with his body, their hands clasped.

Hazel eyes locked with grey ones, both refusing to blink. Finally, an amused twinkle met his eyes, and Ginny smirked back at him beneath her veil.

"Well, it's certainly nice to meet the resident warrior lady," the man said, shaking their clasped hands, his voice a pleasant tenor with a hint of dry wit laced through his words. She nodded, keeping her eyes locked with his.

"You must be training with Fenglass; I don't know anyone else who can counter that throw so perfectly. Are you studying to become an Auror?"

He shrugged a bit and answered, "I actually finished my training, so I've officially been an Auror for six months, now."

She grinned at him. "Congratulations! How long did it take for you to be accepted?"

"About three years, I believe, and a bloody long three years it was, too."

She threw her hands up. "Thank God!" He looked at her skeptically. "It's been two and a half years and more than half of that has been doing paperwork. I was wondering if I'd EVER get my degree."

He chuckled softly at the relieved look in her eyes. "I wouldn't worry too much. With reflexes like that, you're sure to be accepted in no time, and you'll finally be able to get to work. Hey, maybe you'll be in my department, and we can sit around and do absolutely nothing."

"There's a department that does nothing?" she asked, astonished.

"Of course; Fudge's personal favorite, Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Ginny winced sympathetically. Everyone knew that the DADA department was being suppressed by the Minister of Magic's firm denial of any Dark Arts that might come up. Cornelius Fudge had been the Minister for as long as anyone could remember, but there were plenty who knew how inept he was for the post.

"Must be as frustrating as all the paper work I have to do," she grimaced.

He nodded. "You've heard of the AFL?" She nodded. The Anti-Fudge League was a set of wizards who were trying to get Fudge removed from office. "The entire DADA department started that up. We have to have SOMETHING to do besides sitting about all day and eating donuts."

"Donuts? You mean those Muggle pastry things that Muggle police men sit around eating?" Ginny asked in horror. "Oh Merlin, it's bad enough when the trainees get honey in their tea, but can you imagine how hyperactive they'd be with actual sugar?"

He laughed again, and this time she realized that she had been trying to provoke it.

"Mademoiselle, allow me to introduce myself as the Man in Black," he said dramatically, bowing over her hand and laying a light kiss on her fingers.

Ginny bit her lip, amused. "And you, of course, may think of me as the Femme Fatale." He nodded at her, the arch of his eyebrow softening the smirk that she was sure hid beneath his mask.

This man wasn't so bad, she decided, sneaking another glance at him. He had rather nice eyes, a wonderfully chiseled face with high cheekbones, and a strong, calm feeling of utter concentration about him. And, if he could counter a throw like that, well, that by itself got him into her good books.

They settled down in the corner together, watching as their friends and old classmates socialized before them. Ginny stopped wondering who the man was, and began enjoying his quick wit, sadistic thoughts, and the rare twinkle that lit up his eyes when she managed to amuse him. Time passed without their knowledge as they shared opinions, stories, and debates on every subject possible.

The clock struck eleven as they chatted about random topics, both having drunk at least two glasses of the rich red wine being brought around.

"My mother used to tell me stories of The Femme Fatale when I was young, and told me that if I ever disrespected a woman, that murderous woman would hunt me down and rip me to shreds while I slept to avenge her insulted sister." Ginny giggled at the thought of a young boy being told such stories.

"Seems the story did what it was supposed to, though. You're a perfect gentleman," she cooed, placing a hand on his bare forearm. He had rolled up the sleeves of his tunic, and she could just see the edge of the dagger handle that was tied to his arm.

"Well, it was much more entertaining than the stories of the skineets. Stupid little buggers, they were," he grimaced.

She raised her eyebrows. "Skineets? The little fairies who collect fern seed every full moon?"

"The very same," he replied, a twinkle of mischief appearing in his eyes. "And then as they flit around in the light of the moon, they stupidly run into trees..."

"And knock themselves unconscious..."

"And when they fall, all the seed goes flying about the soil..."

"And THAT'S why ferns grow at the base of large trees!" By this time, they were both laughing hysterically, leaning on each other for support.

"Gods, I didn't know anyone else even knew that story," Ginny sighed happily, wiping away a tear of mirth. "I heard it from my grandfather when I was about six, and never forgot it."

"Ah, yes, my mother told me stories every night before I fell asleep, until I turned eight. She wanted to keep telling the stories, but my fa-"he cut off abruptly, looking away. They sat in an awkward silence, Ginny inspecting the tile pattern on the floor while he played with the branches of a potted plant beside them.

"Can I have your attention, please?" They both looked over to the Staff table, grateful for the distraction. Headmaster Dumbledore was standing up, and looking out over the crowds, waiting for silence. The two of them made their way to the back of the crowd, silent as wolves.

"On behalf of the Hogwarts Staff, I would like to thank you all for attending this celebration tonight! It has been 1,000 years since Hogwarts took its first pupils, and many more have passed through our doors since then. In another hour or so, it will be midnight, and the Unmasking may occur, but until then, we have provided a small show for your entertainment. Will you please welcome the Weapons Masters of the Monastery of Siben, demonstrating sword, knife, and spear work!"

The crowd applauded as two men, dressed all in white, stepped to the middle of an open space on the floor and bowed to each other. Pulling out their swords, they engaged themselves in a quick paced sword fight, hacking and chopping at each other with brutal abandon. Ginny pushed to the front of the crowd, aware of the man in black following behind her. She watched them with her lips pursed and her brow wrinkled.

"Gods, they're horrible." She snorted at his shocked whisper, but thoroughly agreed.

"Look at the one with the long blade. He should obviously be winning, as he's taller, and has the longer blade arm, but his defense is so spotty that he's got no chance of beating his opponent."

"Ouch! Did you see that!" he replied, grabbing her shoulder. "What was he thinking, pulling a Callararo after that block?" Ginny shook her head in disbelief.

"Some weapons masters they are. God, I'm better than them." She scoffed as one of the men made a very poorly-executed block, and suddenly felt the man place his hands on her shoulders. She glanced up at him to see that twinkle in his eyes, but more intense, more mischievous than ever before. "Uh oh, do I want to know what you're thinking?"

"Oh, come on, it'll be fun, I swear."

"What, exactly, will be so fun?"

"You and me! We'll can do better than either of those two idiots; why don't we show them what real weapons training looks like?"

Ginny stretched her arm, leg and back muscles discreetly, checking to see that she had not stiffened too much over the course of the evening. She winked at the man and stepped forward into the open space, him following close behind her.

"If you don't mind, gentlemen, we'll be taking over from here." Ginny grinned, despite herself. The pleasant tenor voice that she had grown accustomed to hearing had gained a cold, dismissing tone, sending the two men in white back a few steps. They spluttered quietly and looked up at the Headmaster imploringly.

Dumbledore merely smiled. "Young man, if you believe you can do better, I am quite willing to see it done."

The Man in Black nodded curtly at him, reaching for his sword. Ginny slid hers from the scabbard as well, a slight shiver going through her at the feel of the sword sliding along leather. They crossed blades once, twice, thrice, before pulling back and circling each other.

"So, is that sword merely a decoration, or can you manage it decently?" he teased, watching Ginny's shoulders and torso.

"Well, it would hardly be any use if I couldn't wield it, now would it?" she replied, eyes fixed on his chest, watching for any warning of an attack.

They sprang forward at once, clashing blades. Ginny's mind shut down to focus solely on the feel of the blade and the movement of her opponent. Each move came naturally, as if her body was one step ahead of her mind. This was it; the pattern dance of the sword, that drew its participants into the intricate footwork and pulsing rhythm. With a cry, she twisted her blade around his, and flung it out of his hands.

He sprang back a few feet and reached to his sleeves for his knives, only to find that they were missing. He looked at her, wide eyed.

"Looking for these?" she grinned, fanning the blades she had taken from his arms and waist out in her free hand. He stared at her for a moment, eyes angry and bewildered, before relaxing into gentle laughter.

"Ah, I yield."

She shook her head. "Not yet, sir. I believe I left you the blades in your boots, and I'm willing to do a bit of knife fighting if it's not too big a favor to ask of you."

The eyebrows rose in question, but he retrieved a long dagger and a weighted throwing knife from his shoes. Ginny removed the sheath of the sword from her back, setting it down off to the side before removing two of her own daggers, one from the back of her waistband, and the other from the side of her calf.

Half crouched in a defensive stance, they crossed blades in salute, and the man whispered, "Begin."

Ginny gasped as he attacked instantaneously. He pushed her back with quick thrusts and jabs that left her disoriented and panicked. Calming herself, she began building her focus to rest on only the two points of metal wielded by the Man in Black. He was fast; she would give him that, but she was fast as well.

They continued to battle, each losing one knife to a quick twist or a clumsy mistake. They came together, knives hilt to hilt, body to body in a stalemate. Straining against each other, Ginny made the mistake of looking into his cold, grey eyes.

"Game, set, and match," he whispered, wrenching his knife out and pressing it to the base of her throat.

"And I yield." She winked at him as they bowed to each other, surrounded by the applause of their peers. He wrapped a friendly arm around her shoulders as they walked back to the crowd, a comforting presence beside her as they were swamped by admiring observers.

"Hey, I'm going to go say hi to someone, alright?" Ginny asked, looking up at him. He nodded and let her go. She slipped through the crowd and to the corner where Ron, Harry, Hermione and Luna stood chatting.

"Guess who, Ronnikins!" she whispered, placing her hands over his eyes.

"Who?"

"Guess, silly!"

Ron laughed. "Yep, it's got to be Ginny; she's the only one who ever makes me guess." He turned to face her as she removed her hands, his eyes growing wide. "Ginny? That was you? Oh my god, you were great out there; a real natural!"

She blushed at his praise, scuffing a foot along the floor. "Nah, I was nowhere near as good as he was."

"Who was that man, anyways," Hermione asked, looking over to where the Man in Black stood.

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. But Merlin, he's amazing. He's smart, and sarcastic, and quick, and there's just this concentration that radiates off him, and he's good with swords, daggers, and he's an Auror, and he countered that throw that I did on you, Ron, and he can hold his liquor, and he likes cats. He's just incredible."

Harry, Hermione and Ron exchanged knowing looks, while Luna patted her on the shoulder gently. Ginny blinked. "What?"

Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders, sighing. "Ginny, dear, you are painfully obvious."

"Umm...what exactly is so obvious about me?"

"You LIKE him!" Hermione squealed, giggling. "It's really quite adorable, actually."

Ginny gasped. "No! I mean, I don't think so. He's a great guy, and he makes me laugh, and he's easy to talk to, and I like spending time with him, and I'm hoping to be placed in the same department as him when I finish Auror training, but that doesn't mean I actually like him, like him. Right?"

Ron smiled condescendingly. "Right, Gin. Now, go back over to your boyfriend, over there."

"He's NOT my boyfriend," she hissed angrily, pushing him off and stomping away. "Stupid, idiotic git, he's not my boyfriend. I don't know why I even bothered going over, should have known he would just tease me about everything, that stupid, arrogant wanker."

"Hope you're not talking about me." That familiar tenor voice, and Ginny whipped around to see the Man in Black standing behind her with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh, of course not! Just talking about that person over there. He always teases me about stuff like this."

He cocked an eyebrow. "He's bothering you?" His brow furrowed.

"No! No, it's all right, really. We're old friends; he's got a right to bug me every once in a while," Ginny gasped, not wanting to make a scene. He nodded, casting a discreet glance over towards Ron.

Ginny shook her head in mock exasperation and dragged him back to their corner, grabbing them two glasses of wine on the way. Pressing a glass into his hand, she raised hers to him. "Drink with me?"

He nodded, raising his glass. "To old classmates and to new friendships." She repeated his toast before taking a sip.

They stood in silence for a while, watching the glowing festivities around them. Ginny snuck a look at him out of the corner of her eye, surprised that the silence was a comfortable one.

He cleared his throat, and reflected, "I think this is the first time in years that I've been able to stand with someone and not feel like I should say something or do something. It's comfortable, you know?"

"I was just going to say that!"

The Man in Black winked at her. "Didn't you know? I'm a mind reader," he teased.

She snorted. "Yeah, and I can read the future in tea cups."

There was a pause of half a beat and then they both chorused, "Professor Trelawney!" What started as a few chuckles gradually elevated into hysterical laughter, as neither of them could stop laughing. As soon as one would start to regain control, they would look over at the other and break into fresh peals of laughter.

As they stood, still giggling like drunken fools, the clock struck midnight, the chimes ringing out over the room. A hush fell over the Great Hall, and Headmaster Dumbledore stood up. "We thank you all for coming to the celebration, and now, it is time for the Unmasking. If you would all remove your masks, and look upon the people you have become!"

Ginny looked up at the Man in Black, suddenly completely sober, and managed a shaky smile that he couldn't see. "Well? What do you think?"

He replied, just as awkwardly, "Who should go first?"

"Dunno. Want to flip for it?" Ginny pulled out a silver Sickle and he shook his head.

"If we're going to flip, it deserves, at least, a Galleon." He withdrew a large gold coin from his pocket and held it hesitantly. "Heads or tails?"

Ginny bit her lip. "Tails."

He flicked it into the air, watching the light bounce off it before it disappeared back into his hand. He held it out; heads.

"Well, here goes." He bent his head as he reached back to untie his mask. Ginny waited apprehensively; on the one hand, she wanted to know who he was, on the other, she was afraid of exactly who that mask hid.

He raised his head, a gentle smirk tracing his lips. That sharp nose, those perfect white teeth, that classic smirk, that tiny dimple on the right side... Ginny's mind screamed in shock and horror.

"Let me introduce myself as Draco Malfoy."

Her eyes widened as she looked at him frantically. God, no, not him, ANYONE but him. She stared at her old school tormentor, son of the man who, with his abuse of the Dark Arts, had inspired her to become an Auror. Her eyes ran over his face repeatedly, praying that his features would somehow shift into another's, but they remained fast.

A flicker of doubt flashed in his eyes. "Going to uphold your end of the deal?" he asked softly. Not knowing what else to do, Ginny turned tail and fled. She could hear him yelling to her, calling for her to wait, but she ignored him and pushed through the crowd to her brother and friends.

"Ron!" she cried, clinging to him.

"Ginny! How's it going? Why haven't you taken your mask off yet? Oh, have you found out who your little friend is?" Ron laughed, prying her off him.

Ginny shivered, not wanting to think about it. "He's Draco Malfoy."

Ron did a double take, his jaw dropping. "Excuse me?"

She nodded ruefully. "That's what I said." She moaned. "God, how could I have been so stupid! He was so nice; I should have known it was too good to be true. It just HAD to be that stupid arrogant toe rag!"

"Wait a minute, Ginny," Hermione interrupted. "He's not arrogant and stupid now, is he? You said yourself he was funny, and nice, and intelligent, and quick. You were going on and on about how wonderful he was, how he was the only one who could keep up with you, how he was an Auror. If he was really that horrible, do you think he would have been made an Auror?"

Ginny stared at her for a moment. "But, 'Mione, he'll hate me when he finds out who I really am!"

Harry shook his head. "Seems to me that he enjoyed spending time with you as much as you enjoyed spending time with him. We're all older now. I don't think he'd be stupid enough to throw away a great friendship on a stupid childhood grudge."

"But...but-"

Ron placed a hand over her mouth. "Ginny, as your older brother, I'm not happy that you like a Malfoy. But I know that I will never hear the end of it if I don't tell you to go talk to him. If you don't do this, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. He's changed, Ginny; don't hold it against him"

Ginny blinked, completely shocked. "You WANT me to talk to a boy?"

"I know," Ron said, with a maudlin sigh. "I am an utter failure as a protective older brother. Now, get your arse back over there."

She wrapped him in a tight hug before whispering, "Thanks Ron." She gave a shaky smile to his companions before walking back over to the corner.

Draco sat next to the window, his feet propped up on the sill, a dejected, pensive look on his face. He rubbed the bridge of his nose restlessly, before dropping his head into his hands. Ginny hesitated before running a hand over his hair.

"Draco?"

His head shot up. He blinked, confused. "Hey, why did you go 'way?"

She sighed, and removed her mask. "Let me introduce myself as Ginny Weasley." She cringed, waiting for the snide remark that would leave her with a bad taste in her mouth, as she had experienced many times in school. To her surprise, Draco broke into laughter, doubled over, tears running from his eyes.

"Oh God, this is insane," he gasped, still howling with laughter. "Leave it to me to pick the one person who would hate me the most, out of all the people at this bloody party, and to have a great time with them. The irony, the horrible, cruel, absolutely hysterical irony!"

Ginny looked at him, concerned. He was laughing a bit more than she thought was physically safe and it seemed as though he might not stop.

He continued, "And not only that, but to think that this person, the little girl that I remember from Hogwarts, has grown up to be this gorgeous, fiery, spirited young woman who's training to be an Auror, and who can whip my arse in both sword and hand combat!"

Ginny took a step forward. He was gasping for air now, just about to fall off his chair, and shaking uncontrollably.

"And to think," he laughed, then became quiet. "And to think, I thought for just a second that maybe...just maybe..." He trailed off.

"Maybe what?" Ginny asked softly.

"Maybe you would be someone who didn't...didn't care that I was a Malfoy, that my father was a complete bastard, that I treated everyone like crud. I've changed, you know." His words had begun to slur, and he paused, his eyes glazed. "I thought maybe you'd be ssssomeone who hadn't heard of my reputation or my family or my father, and sssso you actually might- oh, never mind."

"Alright, now I KNOW you've had too much to drink." Ginny pulled him up to his feet and looked him in the eye. "Take a few steps."

He did so, but shakily. It was plain that he was more than a little buzzed, and a quick inspection of the surrounding area showed four empty wine glasses that would have explained it.

"You drank through four glasses of that stuff in the two minutes I was gone, when you and I went through three glasses in three hours." Ginny shook her head. Leave it to a Malfoy to get totally pissed in the shortest amount of time possible. "How are you getting home?"

"Appara-rating home," he crooned, playing with her hair. "I like your hair. S'pretty."

"Thank you, hun. But you know quite well that if you Apparate now, you'll only end up splicing yourself." Ginny sighed, looking him over. "I'd take you home, but Ron would throw a fit."

"I'm sssober, I ssswear," Draco said, shaking his head as if something was flying around it.

Ginny smacked her own forehead. "Sobering spells. Am I a witch, or what?" Pulling out her wand, she quickly muttered a sobering spell. It quickly took effect, leaving Draco completely empty of alcohol.

He flushed red and rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks, Weasley." She raised an eyebrow, and he immediately corrected himself. "Thanks Ginny."

They looked at each other for a moment before Ginny muttered, "It sounds funny when you call me Ginny."

Smiling weakly, he nodded. "Thanks, Weasley?"

"It's no problem," she answered softly, staring at the ground.

"Well," he said, just as she began to speak. They both stopped. "No, you go ahead."

Ginny took a deep breath. "Look, I know we weren't the best of friends in school, and the family animosity thing goes back to the day when our prehistoric caveman ancestors were bashing each other across the heads with clubs, but I just wanted to say that...I had a really great time tonight. You've grown up, Draco, and you've changed. For the better, I think."

She bit her lip. Swiftly, she stood on her tiptoes, and brushed his cheek with her lips. His skin was smooth and warm, and she noticed how he started when she offered this slight gesture of affection. Flushing red, she turned and sped out of the Great Hall, weaving through the crowd and out into the empty corridor.

As soon as she reached the outer gates of Hogwarts, she Disapparated home, heedless of the running footsteps behind her.

* * *

Ginny spent the rest of the weekend lounging about her small apartment, going over paper work, but mostly just thinking about the ball. In a way, she regretted running off so quickly, partly because of the distinct cowardly feel it had to it, and partially because she wanted to know so badly what he would have done if she had stayed.

Several times, she found herself falling into dreams of the two of them walking along the lake at school, sitting beneath the old oak, or lying side by side up on the Astronomy Tower. He would turn to her, and look at her gently, his big grey eyes filled with passion and love. He'd sweep her off her feet and kiss her soundly on the lips, and then...Shadow would brush against her arm or give her toes a lick, and she would snap back to reality.

Monday morning found Ginny meandering up to her desk with a warm mug of tea in her hand. She waved at a few people she knew, and blinked sleepily when anyone spoke to her directly. When she reached the small cubicle that she shared with a coworker, Karen, she plopped down on a chair and rested her head on the desk.

"Late night?" Karen asked, smiling mischievously.

Ginny shook her head. "Nah, just the regular Monday blues. Oh, and Shadow's been hacking up hairballs left and right, so I've been a little worried about him. Other than that, though, nothing."

"Mmhmm. Nothing...sure." It was obvious that Karen was not convinced. "Well, whatever it is, it can wait. You've got a note from the upstairs branch."

Ginny looked over to see the tiny paper airplane flying aimlessly around her stapler. Snatching it out of the air, she pulled it open to see what it read.

"Apparently, I'm to report to the 7^th floor, Office 448. Doesn't say why, though." Brow furrowed, Ginny flipped the paper over to see if anything was on the back, but found it blank.

"Well?" Karen said expectantly. "What are you waiting for?"

Ginny grinned. "I'm going, I'm going. Don't sound so happy about it!" With a laugh, she made her way back to the elevator and up to the seventh floor. As the doors of the elevator slid open, she was confronted with a disturbing scene.

A table, stacked high with donuts, stood against one wall, while people walked the halls in a rather aimless fashion. Her trip past offices and desks showed people playing games, transfiguring pens into rubber chickens and back, and in one case, folding paper cranes that joined a rather extensive flock near the ceiling. Raising an eyebrow, she gazed at a blackboard, on which "Defense Against the Dark Arts" was crossed out, and "Relaxation with Pay" was written underneath.

She walked past all of this relatively quickly before looking for Office 448. There was 440, 442, 444, 446...and 448. Poking her head in, she let out a squeak of surprise and instantly clapped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment.

A blond head looked up at the noise. "Hullo, Ginny. Come on in."

"Didn't I tell you, it sounds funny when you call me Ginny."

"Does it look like I care, Ginny? Take a seat."

Ginny nervously took the offered chair inside, trying to resist the urge to bolt out the door. "So, um...is there any reason why you wanted to see me?"

Draco looked up at her. "Well, I figured since you just got promoted to Auror and assigned to my area, I might as well welcome you to the department."

"I what?" Ginny gasped, eyes widening.

"You got promoted to Auror on Friday night. They needed a signature from the Head of each Department, so I was called in. Congratulations seem in order."

"Why didn't you tell me at the ball?"

"I didn't know it was you, and when I finally DID find out, I was a little too caught up in chasing after you to tell you that you had been promoted."

"Oh," Ginny said softly. Suddenly, she blinked. "You never told me you were Head of this department!"

He smirked. "You never asked."

They sat in awkward silence for a few moments, looking at everything except each other. Finally, Draco sighed and broke the silence. "Look, I know our families aren't very friendly-"

"That's a nominee for the Understatement-Of-The-Year Award."

"And I know that it was a little awkward that night when we took off our masks-"

"Did I say Understatement-Of-The-Year? I meant of the century."

"Shut up."

"Sorry."

Draco sighed deeply. "Ginny, I'm going to be brutally honest with you. I had a great time with you at the ball. I don't care that you're a Weasley and that I'm a Malfoy; we both work as Aurors in the same place, in the same department, we like the same things, and we get along. And, I wanted to know, would you like to have lunch with me sometime?"

Ginny blinked, dazed. "Lunch?"

"Yes, Weasley, where you and I sit down together and consume food around the noon hour on some specific day."

If anything, it was his sarcasm that snapped her out of her confusion. "Yes, I think I'd like that, Draco."

"Good," he grinned. "Hey, someone has to show you the ropes around here, right?"

She laughed at the gentle relief that flowed into his face. "Right."

Clearing his throat, Draco stood and offered her his arm. "Well, as the hour grows closer to noon, what do you say we make that lunch date for today?"

"Eager, are we?"

"Not at all, Ginny, just trying not to procrastinate."

Grinning, she linked arms with him and they strolled off towards the elevator. "Draco? I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"Yes, this probably could be one of those clichéd little stories. That is, until my god-like sexuality overpowered you and you ran to my arms, begging for me to be yours."

"Arrogant prick."

"You know I'm right."

"So?"

Their light-hearted bickering continued until it was cut off by the gentle click of the elevator doors closing behind them.

-Fin-