Who Followed Who?

Ginny was pacing. She knew it was bothering the other members of the Order, but at this particular moment in time, she didn't really care. She listened as Harry droned on and on about something he'd read recently in the Daily Prophet that he thought may have been a form of secret communication between Lucius Malfoy and his fellow Death Eaters. At the sound of this, she stopped pacing and stared at him.

It was all she could do not to laugh.

The boy really was too naïve, to think that Lucius Malfoy would use a public form of communication, protected only by the secrecy of a nom de plume to communicate with his friends. She felt fairly certain that if the elder Malfoy wanted to speak to someone, he would bloody well speak to them, with no pretense. She just could not picture Lucius sending "secret messages" through the newspapers - he had always seemed like more of an in-person sort of fellow.

She began to pace again, anxious to leave. The Order meetings were not nearly as exciting to her as they used to be. Then again, she used to be an active participant at the meetings. She'd almost felt wanted then; those times when they'd actually let her out and about, doing top secret things to aid them. That had only been at Fred and George's insistence, and she knew that now. The moment the twins had left for America was the moment that everything had changed.

She'd become invisible.
The Order could very well have existed without her. They never sent her anywhere any longer. She was barely remaining abreast of all of the news, and they never told her any of their plans. They'd raided several known Death Eater hideouts, and flushed all of the Dark Lord's supporters that they could find. For some reason, they had never been able to find Lucius Malfoy after he'd escaped from Azkaban, and that really pissed Harry off.

Things had been good with her family, though, until Ron and Hermione had decided to start dating. In one fell swoop, her best friend and closest sibling had both been torn away from her, and it hurt. They'd become so absorbed in each other, the only person that they hadn't managed to shun was, of course, Harry.

She sighed noisily, noting that even as she did that, the other people in the room ignored her.

There were other things she could be doing; better ways to spend her time. When Harry had finally stopped talking, the members stood up and stretched, then began to talk among themselves. Ginny found that Snape was eyeing her very thoughtfully, which made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She knew he was skilled in both Occlumency and Legilimency; years of eavesdropping on the Trio had taught her that. She appraised him coolly, letting him look her straight in the eye.

I know you're a double agent, Severus, but does your old friend Lucius know? Snape's eyes widened considerably. Before he could confront her, however, she turned and left the room, heading for home.

Once she had kicked off her shoes and turned the telly on, she removed her shirt and slacks, then reached for her nightshirt. A loud pop behind her made her jump in surprise, and she clutched the fabric to her chest in a feeble attempt to cover herself. When she turned around, she was face-to-face with a very embarrassed looking Draco Malfoy. His cheeks were crimson, and he was averting his eyes - looking at everything in the room, except her.

"Great Circe's ghost," she swore, relaxing minutely. "You scared the daylights out of me! Oh, you can turn around, you big faker. Quit pretending you're a prude." His eyes flew up in surprise to stare at her, but she'd already pulled her shirt over her head.

"You're not quite as modest as I took you to be," he mused aloud. She rolled her eyes and moved into the kitchen.

"As if modesty had anything to do with it," she said, rummaging through her cabinet for a pot. "I'm simply confident in the fact that you hold no interest in my body whatsoever, if not because I'm a Weasley then because I pale in comparison to the many other women you've had." She seemed distracted as she went about gathering the ingredients to make a pot of chocolate. He leaned against the door frame and folded his arms over his chest.

"You've not asked me why I'm here."

"I assume you're here to tell me that I've won my bet." He arched an eyebrow.

"And if I'm not?"

"You are," she replied confidently, stirring the ingredients in the pot. "You wouldn't come see me again so soon for any other reason."

"True. Well, you were right, but don't expect me to believe that it's a common occurrence. You just got lucky this time. Incidentally, I only came by to ensure that you had a proper gown ready for the wedding." She put the spoon down and eyed him thoughtfully.

"You're not fighting this very hard," she observed. "Why?"

"I gave you my word, and Malfoys never go back on their word."

"I have the sneaking suspicion that you're just anxious to see me make a fool of myself," she said, her eyes glimmering strangely. She turned back to the pot and finished stirring, and Draco craned his neck to see what she was doing.

"You've got quite the sweet tooth, haven't you?" he asked, his voice thick with amusement. She turned and gave him a surprisingly friendly smile.

"It's rumored that you have one, as well," she said. He blinked, and she removed two mugs from the cabinet. After filling one, she handed it to him. He sniffed at it, and she snorted softly. "Come on, Malfoy. You watched me make it. I didn't put anything in it."

"Drink yours first," he ordered. She shrugged and blew on the liquid, then took a few sips. When a few moments had passed and nothing happened, he took a drink from his own mug. He turned surprised eyes towards her as he licked the chocolate off of his lips, but she had already moved into the sitting room and lowered herself onto the sofa, tucking her legs beneath her.

"This is different from any chocolate I've ever tasted," he marveled. She glanced up at him briefly, then focused her eyes back on the telly.

"It's an old recipe."

"Family recipe?" he inquired.

"No, just an old one."

"How was your meeting tonight with Potter?" he asked, sitting on the couch beside her. She gave him a look of surprise, but it confused him. Was she surprised because he'd been so forward asking about Potter, or was it because he'd sat down next to her?

"Uneventful," she shrugged finally. She had decided that there really was no point in lying to him; it was obvious that he already knew she met with the Order, even if he didn't know what it was called or who else was there.

"How so?" she watched out of the corner of her eye as he drained the rest of his cup of chocolate with one drink.

"I don't exist," she said quietly, turning her eyes back to the telly. He eyed her thoughtfully.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Exactly what I said, I don't exist. I could bloody well be invisible, for all they pay attention to me."

"Why have you been with them so long, if they don't pay attention to you?"

"Well, they used to pay attention to me," she said, sitting her mug down on the coffee table in front of her. She turned to face him. "They used to listen to my suggestions and ask me to do things for them. Is that how it is with you and your father? Do the Death Eaters just ignore you, or do they listen to you?" He gave a little start.

"The who?" She rolled her eyes.

"Malfoy, it does no good for you to pretend you're not one of them," she sighed, leaning back. "Harry knows you are, you know. It's not like it's something that you've kept extremely hidden, or anything." He sat his empty mug on the table and raised his eyebrows at her.

"If Potter knows what I am, then why hasn't he come to arrest me?"

"He has nothing on you," she said, standing. "You haven't done anything that calls for an arrest - yet," she added. He stood.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, his voice laden with suspicion. "Wouldn't they kick you out of your little group if they knew you were meeting with me?"

"Probably not. They'd probably just do what you're doing - pump me for information about the other side." He stared at her. It hadn't crossed his mind that Potter and his minions might do the same as he if they ever found out she'd been meeting with him. Now he really did have to coerce her to join him and his father, in order to keep them safe. She caught the distressed look on his face and laughed.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to tell them we've spoken," she said, shaking her head.

"Why not?"

"What's the point? I wanted attention, but do you think I want that kind of attention - the kind where everyone is scolding me like a baby for speaking to the enemy?" He relaxed visibly.

"Yes, well," he hated to admit it, but she had a point. "Back to the original purpose of my visit - do you have a gown suitable enough to wear to a wedding?"

"Suitable in your family's eyes? Probably not. When is it?"

"In one week. A week from tomorrow, actually."

"That doesn't give me much time to prepare," she said, frowning. He shrugged.

"You're the one who made the ruddy prediction and asked for this, not me," he drawled coolly. She rolled her eyes and headed towards her bedroom.

"Goodnight, Malfoy." He watched with something akin to amazement as she went into her room and shut the door. As he made his way back home, he wondered what had really transpired in her flat tonight - who had been playing whom?

Once safely back inside the Manor, he hung his cloak up in the foyer, and headed towards his room. He was stopped by his Mother and Father, strolling down the corridor.

"Well, how did it go?" his mother asked, smiling. "Does she have a gown?"

"No, she doesn't," he said, shaking his head. His mother's face fell slightly.

"Well? Didn't you offer to buy her one, or help her otherwise procure one?" He stared at his mother as though she were daft.

"And why on earth would I have done something like that?"

"The girl may prove to be of use to us yet, Draco," his father said reasonably. "You must take extra measures to ensure her friendship and good will."

"I didn't offer to buy her anything and she still gave me information," he said, shrugging. "She told me that Potter knows I'm-" he glanced at his mother, who was raising her eyebrows at him. "Well, Potter knows about me."

"If that's the case, why hasn't he arrested you?" Lucius puzzled.

"My question exactly," he said. "She said that he can't arrest me yet, since I've done nothing that warrants it."

"So the girl has already proved useful," Lucius smiled. He turned to his wife. "Cissa, might you have anything in storage that the girl could wear? It really would be a shame if she wasn't permitted to attend with Draco."

"I suppose I do, but I'm not sure anything old would be fitting for the wedding. Perhaps I could take her on a shopping trip?" Narcissa's eyes lit up with excitement, and Lucius smiled indulgently at her.

"Of course, love," he nodded. "Will you be going to Paris, then?"

"You know I've been wanting to go back for the longest time," she nodded. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and watched as she scurried away to begin making plans for the trip. He turned back to look at his son, who was dumbfounded.

"I'm asleep, and this is the strangest dream I've ever had," Draco proclaimed, his eyes wide. "That's the only explanation for this."

"You're quite awake, my boy," Lucius murmured, smiling. "And quite lucky as well, you know. This entire situation with the Weasley girl is turning out to benefit us both."

"How is that, Father?"

"Your mother adores shopping and fashion, and letting her have her way with the girl is like giving a child a bag full of sweets. And when your mother is happy, I'm happy. And you- she's already given you a wealth of information, whether you realize it or not."

"How so?"

"She's told you that right now, Potter has nothing on you. She's also inadvertently told you that she is interested in the Dark Arts. And not so inadvertently that she's interested in you." Draco gaped at him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why else would she ask you to bring her to a wedding as your date, when she could just as easily have asked for you to give her the names of your dark brethren? Or the location in which I was hidden?"

"She probably knew I wouldn't tell her any of those things," he surmised.

"Perhaps," his father said, although he sounded disbelieving. "I'm rather inclined to think that the girl fancies you - either as a friend, or something more."

"That is utterly ridiculous, Father," Draco laughed. "She was raised and taught to abhor me. Why would she ever fancy me, in any way?"

"Consider the circumstances, Draco. You've told me that none of the times you've been in her presence has she asked you to leave. Furthermore, you've told me that even though she knew she was being followed by you, she hadn't alerted anyone else to the fact. She took you back to her flat, and if I'm not mistaken, you've been there again tonight, with no incident." Draco nodded, his throat going mysteriously dry.

"That's true."

"What did she do when you showed up?" Lucius asked curiously. "Did she act panicked?"

"No, quite the opposite," he said, feeling his face grow warm. "She made- well, she made a pot of chocolate, and gave me some." Lucius smiled.

"So our girl has been doing her homework, then, and knows you've a weakness for the confection?"

"She said something to that effect, yes."

"Doesn't it seem strange to you, Draco, that if she isn't interested in you in any form, that she keeps doing things to place herself in your presence? The wedding, for example?"

"I suppose I registered the fact somewhere in the back of my mind," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sighed. "But I just didn't want to think about it."

"Tell me, is the girl comely?"

"She's not abhorrent, if that's what you're asking."

"That's not what I'm asking, and you know it, Draco."

"She's - well, she's not what I'd normally consider attractive, no."

"But she's not hideous?" his Father sounded amused. Draco flushed.

"All right, she is attractive, for a Weasley," he admitted. "But she's not someone I would have looked at twice in passing."

"Neither was your mother, for me," Lucius drawled calmly. Draco's mouth dropped open slightly. "But she blossomed into a beautiful creature after we'd married, and now you'd be hard pressed to find a more beautiful woman anywhere, wouldn't you say?"

"Father, you're not trying to tell me-" Draco swallowed hard. "That you want me to marry her, are you?"

"No, Draco," he laughed. "I'm simply saying that if things between the two of you change, well...she is a pureblood, after all."

"But she's a Weasley," Draco pointed out. "Remember? Poor? Filthy? Blood Traitors?"

"She wouldn't be a blood traitor if she joined our cause," he shrugged. "And that is what you've set out to do, isn't it?"

"I suppose," he answered cautiously.

"Well, I was simply saying that should the girl decide to join us, there would be no harm in letting things progress further. You're not getting any younger, and your mother does want to see grandchildren sometime in the near future." Draco tried to ignore the feeling of panic he always got when someone mentioned his settling down and having children.

"The Weasleys have proven to be fertile, if nothing else," he choked out. Lucius laughed.

"No one is trying to force you into marrying her if you don't want to, Son. I was simply making some observations. Now, perhaps you'd be good enough to visit her again tomorrow and take your Mother along?" Draco shook his head vehemently.

"No, I won't take mother to that horrible thing that she calls a home. It's barely big enough to turn around in. I'll just bring her here." Lucius nodded.

"That will do just as well. Sleep well, my Son." With that, Lucius turned and left to find Narcissa, leaving Draco to wonder on his own exactly how interested Ginny Weasley could possibly be in him.