Who Followed Who?

Draco was bent over his desk, scribbling wildly on a piece of parchment, when his father entered the room. The quill he'd been holding dropped to the desktop, and he stared. It wouldn't have been such a surprise to see his father this late at night, if his father hadn't been in his room. As a rule, Lucius Malfoy never entered his son's room; hadn't in the twenty (almost twenty-one) years that his son had walked the earth. Malfoys were private creatures, and didn't like to share their personal space.

"Is something wrong, Father?" Draco asked, standing quickly. Lucius sat down in an overstuffed chair near Draco's desk and shook his head.

"There's nothing wrong, so to speak," he drawled softly. He motioned towards Draco. "You can sit back down and relax." Draco did as he was told and waited expectantly for his father to continue.

"Do you remember your Uncle Rodolphus' brother, Rabastan, Draco?"

"Of course, Father. Is he quite all right? Has something happened to him?"

"No, nothing has happened to him," Lucius said, shaking his head. "Unless you count Lavinia." Draco frowned.

"Lavinia Jugson?" he asked. His father nodded. "What's she done to him?"

"Oh, not much - just fallen in love with him," Lucius shrugged. Draco's eyes widened slightly; he wasn't sure he liked where this was obviously going. "They're engaged to be married."

"Oh?" he asked, trying to force his voice to remain steady. Lucius was close to his son, though, and was immediately aware of the change in the boy's tone.

"Is something wrong, Draco?" he arched an eyebrow. Draco tried to force down the lump in his throat. Damn that insufferable Weasley for being right!

"No- well," he knew it was no use to lie to his father. He rubbed his face with his hands, then gave his father a look of defeat. "Yes, there is something wrong. How would you feel if I brought a Weasley as my date to the wedding?" Lucius' eyes widened, but he said nothing for several minutes.

"Are you in love with her?"

"Sweet Circe, no," Draco protested immediately, holding his hand up. "I've been following her since I saw her that day in Hogsmeade, and this evening she managed to use a portkey to take me back to her flat."

"She what?" Lucius asked, raising both eyebrows. It was clear to Draco that his father was impressed, even if it was grudgingly so.

"She took me back to her flat, and she -" Draco snorted softly with laughter. "Father, you're never going to believe this - she practices Ceromancy." To his surprise, Lucius did not laugh. Instead, his features darkened thoughtfully.

"Ceromancy? And in your estimation, how well did she do?"

"I thought she was a little yampy myself, until just now. She did a reading for you," he said, shaking his head. "And she said that there was a marriage in your future."

"Clever little girl," Lucius murmured. Draco stared at his father. Had the entire Universe shifted, and he'd simply not gotten the memo about it? Why was everyone acting so strangely today? "What else did she say?"

"She made a bet with me. Told me that she was so sure she was right, that she'd take me to Potter and her next meeting with him if she was wrong." A very amused smile tugged at his Father's lips.

"And your end of the bargain was?"

"To bring her to the wedding she'd predicted, as my date," Draco said miserably, sitting back in his chair. "I never would have agreed to the bet at all if I had thought she was anything more than a total crackpot, Father."

"This is a very promising turn of events, Draco," Lucius said, rising from his chair. "While you know my opinion of the Weasleys, I find it highly interesting that the girl is dabbling in what she surely knows are the Dark Arts. I also find it somewhat curious that she would take you back to her flat voluntarily when she has no doubt been consorting with Potter and that fool Dumbledore. She's bound to know that you're a follower of the Dark Lord. What on earth could have possessed her to do all of this?"

"She did say something that day in Hogsmeade," Draco said, straightening a bit. "Said that she liked being alone, and away from all of the people who are around Potter all the time." He paused momentarily, thinking. "Shall I bring her to the wedding then, Father?"

"By all means," Lucius said smoothly, moving to the door. "A deal is a deal, and Malfoys never go back on their word." With that, he was gone, leaving Draco to stare after him with growing curiosity.

When Lucius had returned to his own bedroom, he found Narcissa sitting at her vanity table, brushing her hair with long, deliberate strokes. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head, then lowered himself onto the bed. She turned and smiled at him.

"Did you tell Draco the news about Lavinia and Rabastan?" she asked. He nodded and rewarded her with a smile of his own.

"I did, and he shared a bit of his own good news with me." She was still smiling.

"Oh?"

"He already has a date lined up." She clapped her hands excitedly.

"Oh, Lucius! That's wonderful news! Who is she? Is it that lovely Parkinson girl? Ornella was just telling me the other day that-"

"No, Cissa. It's not Ornella's daughter. It's Arthur Weasley's daughter." Narcissa's smile faded quickly and her face turned deathly pale.

"My son has asked a Weasley to the wedding?" She pressed a delicate hand to her breastbone.

"It's not as bad as all that, Cissa. The girl has apparently grown tired of Potter and has taken an interest in our son. And from what Draco tells me, she's been dabbling in the Dark Arts."

"She what?"

"I think you'd be interested to know what she's doing," he said, his eyes glittering. She rose from her seat and lowered herself onto the bed next to him.

"Is she doing something fun?" she asked distractedly, cuddling up next to him. A protective arm went around her and pulled her closer.

"Indeed," he murmured. "She's practicing Ceromancy." Narcissa's head shot up and she stared at her husband.

"Ceromancy? But how did she learn it, Lucius? I thought I was the only one who-"

"I know, sweet. But apparently she knows how to practice it, and is quite proficient. She predicted a marriage to Draco, and they made a bit of a wager on its accuracy."

"A wager? Is that why he's asked her to the wedding?"

"He hasn't asked her yet. She must have a bit of an adventurous streak in her. She told Draco she would take him to Potter and one of his meetings if no marriage came about, and he told her in return that he'd take her as his date to said wedding if it should occur." Narcissa laughed softly, despite herself, and rested her head on her husband's chest again.

"Poor Draco," she laughed. "He never has been able to pass up a game of chance, has he? Do you think young Weasley knows what she's gotten herself into by asking to come to the wedding with him?"

"That's the strange thing about it, Cissa," Lucius said, rubbing her arm lovingly. "I think she does."

~*~

The next morning found Draco sitting at the breakfast table, hunched over a cup of black coffee, and generally looking as though he hadn't slept a wink. Narcissa smiled brilliantly at him as she took her own seat.

"Are you quite all right this morning, poppet?" she asked, picking up a delicate china cup that was full of hot tea. He sighed.

"I suppose Father has told you of my bargain?"

"He has," she assented, buttering a warm scone. He waited for her to say something further, but when she remained silent, he cleared his throat.

"Mother, aren't you unhappy about this? I mean, she's a Weasley." His mother looked up from her scone and smiled.

"I was upset at first, but after speaking to your father further on the matter, I'm actually quite excited about it." Draco's jaw dropped.

"Excited?"

"Didn't you say the girl practices Ceromancy?" he nodded. "Well, she and I have something in common, then."

"What?" he squeaked. "I thought it was an obsolete discipline, and beneath a Malfoy to practice it."

"Heavens no, child," she said, wiping her fingertips on a cloth napkin. "I began using it a long time before I met your father. When the two of us were married, he encouraged me to continue it because I was fairly accurate with it."

"Yes, well," he pouted. "Then I suppose you and Weasley do have something in common. She was spot on with this prediction."

"It doesn't surprise me at all," Narcissa said, eyeing her son thoughtfully. "Your father is well aware of her lineage, and has told me that her mother was a Prewett. The Prewetts have always been rather gifted seers. I understand it skips a generation."

"So that would mean that her mother doesn't have the gift, then?"

"Precisely," she nodded. "It's rather fortuitous that your girlfriend shares a passion of my own." Draco nearly choked on his mouthful of coffee.

"Girlfriend? Mother, she is not my girlfriend, nor will she ever be," he said, mopping coffee off of the table. "I am following her in order to get information from her, or possibly even coerce her into joining our cause. I have no romantic interest in her whatsoever."

"Things change, Draco," she smiled. He pulled a face.

"Not this."

"Famous last words," she said, rising from her seat. She bestowed one final, breathtaking smile on him as she moved towards the doorway. "You may want to ensure that she has a suitable gown for the wedding. Have a lovely day, darling."