Who Followed Who?

"It really is much cozier than I had thought it might be," Ginny murmured, her eyes darting over the priceless works of art that graced the walls of the corridor. Draco's hand had long since been withdrawn from her back, leaving her feeling a bit bereft. He grinned at her.

"How had you thought it would be?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I suppose I thought it would be severe, for lack of a better word. Imposing and cold. In any case, not nearly as warm as it is. It's really rather inviting, isn't it?" She smiled. He nodded, knowing that she was referring to the rich gold tones of the carpet and tapestries. "I guess it's a stereotype, but I was expecting something along the lines of the dungeons at Hogwarts - all decked out in Slytherin green and silver." He chuckled.

"Do you know that that was the hardest thing for me to get used to at school? I loved being in Slytherin, but I always hated those dungeons. They were too drafty. What was Gryffindor Tower like?"

"Wonderful," she gushed happily. Her school years had been the best of her life; she had been a part of a group, and she had felt loved and wanted. Those were the things that she associated with Gryffindor Tower. Draco watched with bated breath as the emotions played across her face, finally coming to rest on happiness. "It was open and airy and always warm."

"It figures," he chuckled. "You lot get the pick of the castle, and we evil Slytherins were stuck away in the dungeon. Dumbledore was probably hoping that he could forget us if he put us there." She rolled her eyes but laughed at him.

"Oh, this is lovely," she said breathlessly, her eyes locking on a painting. He nodded.

"This is one of my favorites. Are you familiar with the artist?"

"Of course I am," she said, eyeing the painting reverently. "I'd recognize a Renoir portrait anywhere." He was mildly impressed. "But I had thought that this portrait was destroyed many years ago." She turned to him with a confused expression.

"The one that was destroyed was a fake. This is the real one." She turned back and eyed the flowers with awe. "Am I to believe that you appreciate fine art?"

"Of course," she said, finally tearing herself away from the painting to walk down the hall with him.

"Then let me show you my parents' private gallery." He escorted her down the corridor and through a set of double doors. Once inside, she stopped and let out an audible gasp. She turned to him with wide eyes.

"Draco, this is incredible! Look at all of the-"her words died, and she hurried over to a painting of sunflowers. "Van Gogh!" she announced. He watched with growing amusement as she moved to the next painting, which was of a woman in a hat. "Matisse!" As she looked at all of the portraits, she shouted their names. "Cézanne! Picasso! Monet! And-"her breath escaped her as she stopped in front of a painting that was all swirling midnight blue and bright yellow stars.

She turned to look at him, and the rapture on her face nearly made him stumbl backwards.

"My favorite Van Gogh work of all time- Starry Night." She turned back to the painting and stood with her hands clasped against her chest, taking the portrait in greedily with her eyes. He moved to stand next to her and eyed it thoughtfully. The truth was that, although he had an eye for art and he loved buying it, he'd never really looked at this painting before.

His parents had allowed him to start buying the pieces after he'd been through the heartache with Daphne, and he'd slowly been building up the collection since then. He'd seen this one and it had struck a chord in him at the time, so he'd picked it up. He hadn't been back to look at it in ages, but he had clearly been in the wrong for doing so - apparently Ginny Weasley saw something in it that he had not seen.

Their art gazing was interrupted by a man coughing, and they both turned reluctantly to see Lucius smiling at them. He strode in and appraised the portrait they were both staring at, then turned to his son.

"I must admit, I rather like it, Draco. Is this the newest addition?"

"Yes, Father. I just purchased it last week."

"What do you think, Ginny?"

"I adore it," she said, her eyes focusing back on the picture. "Van Gogh was my favorite artist, next to Monet. Without a doubt, though, this is my absolute favorite piece of art. You have an excellent collection, Lucius."

"You are a collector, too?" he asked, slightly surprised that a Weasley would be familiar with the art in his gallery. She shook her head and looked somewhat dejected.

"I'm not a collector, but I am an avid browser." He chuckled. Of course, the girl his son would fall in love with would be nothing less than highly intelligent, with good taste. He'd expected nothing less.

"Well, as much as I'd like to take the credit for being the one to impress you, I must digress. Draco is solely responsible for every piece of artwork in this room. This is his gallery; his baby, if you will." Ginny smiled warmly at Draco, and he grinned before turning his attention back to his father.

"Have you come to collect us for dinner?" he asked. Lucius nodded.

"Your Mother sent me to find you. Have you finished with your tour of the Manor?"

"Not quite," Draco said, falling into step beside his father. Ginny was struggling to keep up with their pace, and when Draco noticed, he slowed his steps. His father hid a grin. So the boy was falling, after all.

"Perhaps Ginny would agree to stay a bit longer after dinner tonight, and you can continue then?"

"I would love to," she said eagerly. Draco reached behind her and let his hand settle lightly on the small of her back. She was trying not to look too pleased as he led her into the dining room, where his Mother was already waiting for them.

"Well, the three of you certainly look happy," she laughed. "What have I missed?" Draco pulled out Ginny's chair, and then pushed it in as she sat down. He took the chair next to her and smiled at his Mother.

"I was just showing Ginny the art gallery, Mother."

"And how did you find it, Ginevra?"

"It was lovely. One of the most wonderful things I've ever seen."

"Excellent." Their light conversation continued throughout dinner, with the topic hovering around the subject of art the entire time. Lucius cleared his throat and switched gears as they sipped their coffee and brandy.

"Ginny, I believe there is something that merits discussing. It's been brought to my attention that you've been having some problems with your- er, friends, as it were." She blushed but maintained eye contact.

"Yes."

"I've been thinking about it, and Narcissa and I have discussed it at some length. We've decided that, should you feel inclined to do so, you are more than welcome to stay here, if you've need of a place to get away to." Ginny's eyes widened and Draco nearly choked on his mouthful of brandy.

"You want Ginny to stay here?"

"Only if she wishes it." Draco turned to look at Ginny as he wiped the brandy from his chin. She blinked. Staying with the Malfoys would almost be like a waking dream, she was sure of it. No Harry or Ron or Hermione to worry about. No pressure to have friends that she didn't want to have. Not to mention that she would have the almost constant company of Draco and Narcissa, and even Lucius wasn't turning out to be as stoic as she had thought. She looked up at Lucius.

"Might I take until the end of the evening to mull it over?"

"Of course," he assented, smiling. "Take all the time you like." He rose from the table and helped Narcissa up, then led her out of the room. Ginny stared down at her empty mug of coffee.

"I should have told the house elves that you prefer chocolate to coffee," he mused, his voice thick with amusement. She smiled at him.

"There's no need to go out of the way to accommodate me. Coffee is fine- this coffee is wonderful."

"Ginny," he said, taking a deep breath. "Do you want to stay here?" She fidgeted for a moment before glancing up at him.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I have grown fond of your family, and I enjoy spending time with you. I know that sounds terribly pathetic, given that we've spent a grand total of three days together, but-"

"It doesn't sound pathetic," he said, frowning. "Why would you even think that?"

"I just thought-"

"Do you not want to stay here?"

"That isn't-"

"Do you really think we're that bad, that you don't want to -"

"Draco Malfoy!" she snapped, her temper besting her. He stopped abruptly and stared at her. "Do you know that you have the most annoying habit of jumping to the absolutely wrong conclusion, and then yammering away about it without giving me a chance to speak?"

"Are you saying that you want to stay here, then?" She closed her eyes and counted backwards from ten.

"If you had given me a chance to explain myself, you would have heard me tell you that I didn't want to be a burden to your family. The three of you have already extended your good graces further than I'd ever imagined you would, and me staying with you would be overstaying my welcome."

"Don't be ridiculous! Father wouldn't have offered if that were the case, and you know it."

"It would be a welcome change, wouldn't it?" she laughed. "And after what you've shown me tonight, I have no doubt where I'd spend the majority of my time." His face fell a bit, and she noticed. "What did I say?"

"Well, I was rather hoping that you'd say you'd stay because of something other than the paintings."

"Like what?" she frowned. He lifted cool silver eyes to meet her warm sienna gaze.

"Like me." Her breath caught in her throat.

"Does that mean you wish me to stay?"

"It does." His voice was totally sincere, without the slightest trace of amusement, and it surprised her.

"I'll stay, then."