Who Followed Who?

Draco walked Ginny back to her room to fetch her cloak, but when she emerged wearing it, he frowned. "You can't wear that," he said disapprovingly. "It will get filthy out there."

"Well, you threw my old one out, so this is all I've got," she said, annoyed. He sighed, then turned and motioned for her to follow. She tossed the cloak over a chair, closed her door, and hurried to catch up to him. He led her through one winding corridor before reaching a large door with a dragon carved on it. He reached for the doorknob, and then hesitated.

"What's the matter?" she asked, seeing his cheeks flush. He straightened his back before answering her.

"Nothing," he said quietly. He opened the door and stepped inside, motioning for her to follow. As soon as she did, she gasped. She knew she was in his bedroom. It was too opulent, too ornate not to be his. She stood just inside the door, not wanting to encroach too much on his personal space, and watched him go to his closet. He rummaged through it for a moment before he found what he was looking for. Looking triumphant, he pulled out a heavy black cloak with hunter green velvet lining, and handed it to her. She stared at the fabric in her hand, and then looked up at him. He rolled his eyes.

"Well? Put it on, already." She obeyed and wrapped it around her shoulders, enjoying the heavy feel of it encasing her body. He nodded satisfactorily, and then grabbed his own cloak before turning and heading towards the door.

"Surely you can't mean for me to wear this to the stables," she said incredulously, following him into the hallway. He closed his door and turned to her.

"Why not? Isn't it good enough for you?" he snapped. She blinked.

"I don't want to dirty your cloak any more than I wanted to dirty mine," she protested angrily. His face softened a bit.

"It's an old cloak; I was about to throw it out, anyway."

"Throw it out?" she boggled, caressing the velvet with her fingertips. "It's in perfect condition, why would you throw it out?"

"If you like it so much, you can have it," he shrugged. "Keep it in case you ever decide to go back out to the stables again." She followed him outside the Manor and gasped in surprise as the bitter cold wind whipped her hair around her face. Draco was moving quickly, and she was having difficulty keeping him in sight because of the curtain of her hair.

"When we get back to the Manor, I'm chopping this all off," she grumbled to herself, reaching up a hand to push the copper strands away from her eyes. He stopped walking and turned to stare at her. "What?"

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing, I was talking to myself," she snapped. He stared at her for a moment, then shrugged and continued walking. She poked her tongue out at him when his back was turned.

When they reached the stables, Ginny was taken by surprise. The two large buildings didn't look like the typical accommodations used to house horses or any other animal of the like. She followed him through the large wooden door and, once inside, gaped at her surroundings.

Hundreds of cages lined the room, filled with a variety of magical (and non-magical) creatures. She rushed towards the biggest one, which made Draco smile. It pleased him that she took immediate interest in his own pet; the one creature that never failed to entertain him or make him feel better. She knelt in front of the glass cage and watched with growing fascination as the orange and black thing slithered about aimlessly. He squatted beside her, and she felt a wave of heat as his knee brushed hers.

"Ginny Weasley, meet my pet Runespoor." Her eyes widened as the creature heard Draco's voice and moved forward slowly.

"How do you do it?" she asked, amazed. "How have you kept it from ripping off its third head?" He felt an immediate flush of pleasure that she'd obviously done her homework where Runespoors were concerned.

"It doesn't actually take all that much effort," he said, shrugging. "I visit it once a day, and talk to it."

"Have you named the heads, then?" she asked, her eyes still glued to the hissing mouth of the head on the left. Draco grinned.

"Of course I have."

"Well?" she asked, turning to give him an expectant look. He pointed to the far right head.

"That one's Agrippa. The middle one is Uric, and the one on the left is Herpo." She laughed at him.

"Aptly named," she said, turning back to the creature. "So how is it that you've managed to save Herpo just by talking to them?"

"How is it that you know so much about Runespoors?" he asked curiously.

"I was interested in Care of Magical Creatures, and I paid attention," she said simply. He nodded appreciatively.

"I don't know how it works, it just does. They listen to me, and they listen well."

"How did you manage to get one? The Ministry keeps these under lock and key when they find them."

"My Father got it a few years ago from one of his friends," he explained. "He just wanted it for the eggs, so he gave it to me to take care of."

"It's beautiful," she whispered, mesmerized by the creature's movements. He eyed her thoughtfully. He'd only ever told one other person about the Runespoor, and that had been Daphne. She'd immediately expressed her disgust, and he'd never mentioned it around her again.

"Do you want to see the other animals we have?" he asked. She nodded, finally tearing her eyes away from the Runespoor. He stood and extended his hand to help her up. She slipped her delicate hand into his, and he suddenly felt compelled to keep holding it. When she had stood and his fingers were still clasped firmly around hers, she did not try to pull away, which made his stomach turn a quick somersault. He tugged on her hand and inclined his head toward a group of cages along the opposite wall.

She began asking questions about the care of all of the animals in the stables, and he answered easily. The conversation was flowing and he was just beginning to thoroughly enjoy himself when a wrinkled house elf appeared before them.

"Pamby is sorry to bother the young Master, but Master has sent her to fetch you." Draco frowned.

"Why? What is the purpose of this intrusion?" The house elf cowered before Draco.

"The Master, your Father, tells Pamby that you have a visitor." Draco's scowl deepened.

"Whoever it is, tell them to go away. I'm busy. They can come back later."

"The Master thought you might say that, sir. He told Pamby to tell you that the visitor is very important, and can't be sent away."

"Fine, I'll be there shortly," Draco sighed. The house elf disappeared as quickly as it had come, and Ginny wondered who was so important that their visit demanded Draco's immediate attention. He turned to her and gave a rueful smile. "Perhaps we can continue the tour of the stables later?"

She nodded. "That would be nice. I'd like to see the rest of the animals," she said, casting a longing glance at the second wing of the building, the wing they hadn't had a chance to explore. He hid his pleased smile and led her out of the stables, towards the Manor. When they were inside, to Draco's great disappointment, she let go of his hand and turned to go down the corridor that led to her room.

"Wait," he said. She turned and looked at him. "Where are you going?"

"You have a guest," she said, frowning slightly. "So I'm leaving you to your visitor, and going back to my room." He stared at her.

Didn't she care who was visiting him? Wasn't she curious? What if it was another woman? He silently berated himself for that last thought. Why should she care? He shrugged.

"See you later, then," he said coolly. When he had disappeared around a corner, she turned and went back to her room, shutting the door behind her. Why had he looked at her that way? And why had he held her hand? Why had she liked it so much? She puzzled. She removed the cloak he'd given her and pressed the velvet of the neck to her nose, inhaling deeply. It smelled like him. She folded the material gently and laid it atop a brocaded chair, then headed towards the bathroom to bathe.

Draco was puzzling over some things as well. He wondered why he had kept hold of her hand for so long, why she hadn't pulled away sooner, and why he'd felt so strange when she had finally let go of him. All of these things and more swam through his head as he went into the parlor where guests were received.

"Draco!" He stopped dead in his tracks as the woman rushed to greet him with a hug. When he did not return her embrace, she pulled away and wrinkled her nose. "Why do you smell as though you've just been working the manure pile of a stable?"

He rolled his eyes and glared at her. "Because I've just come back from the stables. And what, may I ask, has suddenly made me worthy of a visit from my ex-best friend's wife?"