Who Followed Who?

It was not unusual for Ginny to sleep past ten o'clock anymore. There used to be a time when she would be awake before the sun had even risen; jumping out of bed, eager to begin the day.

Things weren't like that anymore.

She had taken to sleeping in quite frequently, as there was nothing else to do with her day. If she had an appointment, it was always scheduled after one o'clock. If she had no appointments or errands for the day, she was prone to staying in bed, huddled beneath the covers, for as long as her body would allow, only feeling compelled to leave the bed when her stomach grumbled its protests.

Today was no exception.

She had just pulled the covers up to her chin and rolled so she was facing away from the window, when she heard a distinct pop. She groaned and pulled the covers over her head, hoping that whoever was in her flat would get the hint and just leave.

It was, therefore, unfortunate for her that the person who had apparated to her flat was a man on a mission.

"Weasley!" he snapped, yanking the coverlet off of her. She grunted in protest, shivering at the sudden loss of the warmth the blanket had provided. "Get up! It's damn near noon, and you're still in bed! You've slept half the day away!"

"So?" she asked waspishly. "What do you care?"

"I don't," he answered, folding his arms over his chest impatiently. "But my Mother does."

"Your Mother?" she sat up so quickly, it made Draco's head spin. "What has she got to do with anything?"

"She's got a great deal to do with you- at least for today," he said, raising his eyebrows. "So are you getting out of bed of your own volition, or do I have to use my wand and force you to?"

"I'll get up if you'll tell me what she wants," Ginny said, raising her own eyebrows.

"It doesn't work that way."

"It had better, or else you'd better know some pretty damned good spells to haul my lazy arse out of bed." His jaw dropped slightly, and a chuckle escaped him before he could stop it.

"Are you challenging me?" he asked disbelievingly.

"No, I'm stating facts. So in the interest of saving time, why don't you just tell me what it is that your Mother wants with me?"

"She would like to speak to you about your lack of wedding attire," he said, bowing slightly. "Is her highness sufficiently pleased now? Will you get out of bed?" she gave him a lopsided grin and stood.

"Her Highness is well pleased," she laughed, moving towards the closet. He blinked several times. What had gotten into him, speaking to her and teasing her as though she was almost ... a friend?

He watched as she retrieved an outfit from her closet, then headed into the bathroom to wash up and change. He was absolutely surprised when she left the door to the loo open, and turned his back so he would not 'accidentally' see something he shouldn't have. He could feel his face growing warm; he knew that she would probably laugh at him if she knew that he was so modest about seeing a woman's body, but he couldn't help it.

For all the things that people said about him, Draco had never been an overly sexually promiscuous person. He had lost his virginity at eighteen, although it had been somewhat of a painful experience. He'd had the biggest crush on Daphne Greengrass while they'd been at Hogwarts, although he'd never told anyone but his Mother and his best friend, Marcus, about it. His Mother had arranged for a garden party for his graduation, to which she invited the Greengrass family.

Draco had been delighted to see Daphne at his party. She'd looked positively radiant in her summery dress, all ruffles and femininity. She'd fawned over him all afternoon, and he'd finally gotten up the courage to ask her on a date. She'd said yes, and a very happy Draco had thoroughly enjoyed the remainder of the party.

The next evening, he'd gone to her home to pick her up for their date. Her parents and sister were out to dinner, leaving her there alone. She'd invited him in and proceeded to seduce him, plying him with fine wines from her family's stores. When it was all over, she'd asked him to leave.

Two days later, he had been walking through the aisles at Flourish and Blotts', trying to find a particular book for his father, when he'd heard her giggling. He remembered smiling as he rounded the corner.

His smile had fled as quickly as any feelings he'd harbored for her.

She was pressed up against the bookshelf, with one leg wrapped around Marcus Flint, giggling as he nuzzled her neck. Draco stood frozen, paralyzed in disbelief. It was that moment that Daphne had turned her head and shot him a brilliant smile. She whispered something to Marcus, who looked up and shrugged in apology to Draco, then went back to kissing Daphne.

Draco had never spoken to either of them again.

He sighed. It wasn't that he didn't want to have sex, or that he disliked seeing a woman's body - it was quite the opposite. He just didn't want to ogle someone he didn't know. Sex was a sacred thing for his family, he knew that well enough from speaking to his Father about it on several occasions. His Father had advised him to keep to himself, lest he desired false paternity suits and besmirching the good family name. Draco also felt that, when he engaged in such activity again, he wanted to do it with someone who looked at him the way his mother looked at his father.

Was that too much to ask for? Someone who loved him for him, and not what he could offer them by way of financial security?

Draco was jolted from his thoughts as Ginny emerged from the loo, scrubbed clean and smelling suspiciously like cotton candy. He watched with growing curiosity as she brushed her hair and left it hanging in soft waves, and he clucked his tongue. Before she could protest, he had waved his wand and muttered a charm, and her hair was piled up at the back of her head. She turned and stared at him.

"Where did you learn that?" she asked, with no trace of amusement in her voice. His cheeks flushed slightly, but he retained his cool demeanor.

"Are you quite ready?" he drawled, replacing his wand inside his robe. She turned and eyed herself in the mirror, surprise still etched across her face.

"Just a second," she said, opening the top drawer of her dresser. She pulled her wand out and stuffed it inside her threadbare robe, then turned to him and nodded. "All right."

"We're going to make a quick stop in Diagon Alley," he informed her, turning on his heel. "Mother needs a few things." She remained silent, which Draco was entirely thankful for.

Once they had reached Diagon Alley, Draco led her towards the entrance to Knockturn Alley, where he fished a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. She frowned as she examined the list of supplies his mother had written, then looked up at him with a half-smile.

"Give me fifteen minutes." Before he could respond, she had taken off down the congested thoroughfare. He stared after her in amazement; how could she have known that his Mother had instructed him to have her fetch all of the items? He sat down on a nearby bench, forcing himself to ignore the cold, and waiting for her.

When she returned less than fifteen minutes later, she was holding two large brown paper parcels, and she looked to be struggling with them. He took one from her and was about to ask her how she'd known when she gave a violent shiver. He remembered that she had still been in bed that afternoon when he'd come to retrieve her, and he hadn't seen her eat anything. Not to mention the fact that he was terribly aware that her cloak wasn't something he would have even allowed one of his servants to wear.

A strange feeling flooded over him, and he sighed silently. It wasn't a totally foreign feeling -sympathy- it was just alien to him to feel it towards a Weasley. He got a firm grip on her arm, then led her to the booth of one of the many street peddlers, where he purchased her a large cup of hot chocolate. Never one to pass up the confection himself, he indulged in a small cup as well. She thanked him quietly, and was sufficiently preoccupied with her drink that she didn't watch where he was leading her.

Once they were inside the store, however, she gazed up at him with wide eyes. He ignored her as best he could and called out to the Sales Witch behind the counter, who was at his side quicker than Ginny could utter "accio." He spoke to the woman in hushed tones, so Ginny couldn't hear, and the woman gave Ginny a once-over with her eyes before nodding and bustling away.

"What's going on?" she asked quietly, not wanting to attract the attention of anyone else in the store. Draco gave her an appraising look, slightly impressed with her non-Weasley-ish behavior. She had accepted the hot chocolate without question. She had run his Mother's errands without question. She had, he realized with a start, even paid for his Mother's supplies, without asking to be repaid. Before he could say anything, however, the Sales Witch returned with an armful of heavy, dark green material draped over her arm.

She held it out to Ginny, who hesitated briefly before touching it. Draco was amazed at how reverent the girl seemed; he knew that even though she was poor, she had seen and worn things like this before. The girls in her dormitory had let her wear some of their things for the Yule Ball, and if he remembered correctly, she had worn something similarly fancy to her brother's graduation.

"Well, go on, dear," the woman said impatiently. "Try it on." Ginny's eyes shot up in surprise, but the woman shoved the cloak towards her. She put it on reluctantly and gave Draco a questioning look.

"Turn," he ordered. She obliged and turned a small circle before looking at him again. He was too busy with the Sales Witch to meet her eyes, though. "I'll take it. She'll wear it now." He picked up Ginny's old threadbare cloak from the floor, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. He held it out to the woman, wrinkling his nose in obvious distaste as he did so.

"Dispose of this. She won't be needing it any longer."

Ginny watched numbly as Draco paid for the cloak and strode out of the store. Once she had fallen into step beside him again on the street, she turned and looked at him.

"Your Mother taught you that charm, didn't she?" her voice was soft but firm. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and saw the softened look on her face. She wasn't trying to taunt him or otherwise degrade him, which caught him off guard. He turned his eyes back to the street in front of him and gave a curt nod. "Why did you buy this cloak for me?"

"I should think the reason was obvious," he snapped, his patience wearing thin. He felt odd around her, as though she knew things about him that she shouldn't know, and he didn't like it. He didn't like feeling sorry for her. He didn't like liking her company, which he found he was doing at the moment. "You're going to meet my Mother, and the Manor is quite drafty. Can't have you chattering in front of her -it's distracting." She eyed him thoughtfully, then clamped her mouth shut as they stepped inside a small pub.

Draco pulled her to the fireplace and held out a small pot of floo power.

"This is the only way to get to the Manor," he said quickly, his tone of voice clearly indicating to her that he didn't feel as though he should have to explain himself. "Let's go."