Who Followed Who?

Ron burst through the door of the Burrow feeling considerably happier than he'd been in several days. He greeted his mother with a bear hug, then surprised his father by doing the same for him. Molly went back into the kitchen to finish preparing dinner while Arthur and Ron sat down in the family room.

"You're in an especially good mood today," Arthur observed, smiling. It was nice to see someone in his family happy, after all of the unpleasant things that had been going on as of late.

"I am," Ron agreed, grinning cheekily. Arthur laughed.

"Does it have to do with the wedding? Where is Hermione, anyway?" he asked, missing the way Ron's happy expression faltered momentarily. "Isn't she coming for dinner?"

"I don't think so," Ron answered, shaking his head. "I didn't tell her we were having din-" his voice died as there was a loud knock on the door. Arthur stood and went to answer it.

"Ahh, that must be her now." Ron sat frozen in his chair, hoping against hope that Hermione - or Harry, for that matter- had not been stupid enough to try and come to the Burrow. Arthur came back into the family room wearing a puzzled expression. "There's a woman at the door asking for you, Ron." Ron frowned, then stood and went to the door.

"Hi, Ron," she breathed, smiling nervously. Ron gaped at her, then quickly stepped out onto the front porch, pulling the door shut behind him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. She forced another smile.

"I thought... well, I'm not here to be unfriendly. I mean, I'm heading to the Manor for dinner this evening, and I wondered if maybe you might like to come. I thought you might like to see your sister." Ron opened and closed his mouth several times before giving up hope for coherent speech, and simply stared at her.

"You know, it took a lot for me to come over here," she hissed finally, putting her hands on her hips. "You could at least speak to me."

"Right," he said, shaking his head. "Right. I just- I mean, you are who I think you are, aren't you?" She gaped at him for a moment, then laughed.

"Oh, Gods," she gasped between giggles. "I know it's not funny, but I can't help myself. The look on your face was priceless. Why don't you tell me who you think I am, and I'll tell you whether you're right or not?" He glanced around to make sure that no one was watching, then leaned towards her a bit.

"You do know that my house is being watched, don't you?" he whispered. She blinked at him. "It was very stupid of you to have come here, especially being who you are."

"What exactly do you mean by that?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

"I just meant that with you being connected to him-" she frowned.

"Him who?"

"Malfoy!" he hissed angrily. "With you being so closely connected to him, it wasn't very wise of you to have come here. What if you've put my sister in danger?"

"I haven't," she assured him, her smile returning. "Now, are you coming with me, or not?" He considered her offer quickly, glancing repeatedly at the house behind him.

"I'm not sure I'd be welcome there by anyone other than her," he said, his brow furrowing.

"You'd be my guest. They wouldn't be so rude as to kick you out or ask you to leave, unless you insult them."

"How do you know I wouldn't?" he asked, looking wary.

"Because I can tell that you're dying to see your sister. Now, tell your parents you're going out, and come on already!"

Ron turned and opened the door. Poking his head inside, he called, "Mum, Dad, I'm going out for dinner. I'll be back in a bit." Before his mother could protest, he'd shut the door and was following Pansy down the driveway.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Ginny took special pains to brush her hair, although she couldn't explain why. She brushed until her hair shone, then brushed some more. When she finally quit, it wasn't because she was satisfied with the way her hair looked; it was because her arm just wouldn't cooperate with her commands to keep brushing. She sighed and put her brush down, then stood and examined herself in the mirror.

She'd originally balked at the idea of wearing the clothes Narcissa had purchased for her as every day clothes, especially since she was more used to wearing jeans or other such casual clothes. The clothes Narcissa had given her were far more dressy than jeans. She turned this way and that, scrutinizing her appearance.

After Draco's reaction to her in the silk blouse and fitted slacks, she had to seriously reconsider her position on wearing such nice clothes just to lounge around in. She'd selected an ivory blouse today, and wondered if it was too racy to wear around the Manor - or more specifically, around Lucius. She blushed as she realized that she didn't mind it being low-cut around Draco; she wanted his attention. She fingered the little pearl buttons at her wrist and eyed her skirt. It was navy blue and plain, but then again, the shirt would attract enough attention without having to wear something racy below the waist. The hemline of the skirt grazed the tops of her knees, and she giggled at her reflection.

She looked very much like a rich man's secretary.

She picked up her wand and eyed her hair thoughtfully in the mirror. It was nice down, but she never saw Narcissa's hair down. Her hair was always presented with elegant, and sometimes elaborate, coiffures. Ginny muttered the spell she'd heard Draco use when he'd fixed her hair, then examined herself. Her hair was piled in a mass of curls at the back of her head. She nodded, satisfied, and applied the tiniest bit of pale lipstick. Narcissa's words echoed in her mind. She wanted to tell Draco how she felt, and today she would try. She would look nothing less than spectacular when she told him, either - perhaps then it would be harder to resist her.

She took a deep, steadying breath, then began the walk towards the library. Her high heels clacked against the floor, alerting anyone nearby to her presence. When she entered the library, Draco stood quickly and turned to look at her. His jaw dropped, and she felt a tingling sensation spread through her limbs as his eyes traveled slowly over her.

"Well," he breathed, standing straighter. "Well, well, well. Have I forgotten a special occasion?" He gestured towards the chair she had occupied when they played chess, and watched as she sat down and crossed her legs. He sat in the seat opposite her and stared.

"I thought that maybe it might be better if I dressed well, as opposed to dressing in my regular clothes. I feel so out of place here wearing jeans when I'm the only one who's doing it." Her cheeks were beginning to feel warm.

"You fit right in now, don't you?" he murmured. His voice betrayed no emotion, and she wondered at it.

"If I've offended you-" she began. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees as he looked at her.

"I've already called you my girlfriend," he said, his voice even. "Did you think you would offend me by dressing the part?" She tried to ignore the sensation of her stomach doing continuous flips.

"You know what they say about names," she said softly. He arched an eyebrow. "A rose by any other name..." her voice trailed off as he leaned even closer. "N-Not that I'm calling myself a rose, I mean-" she stuttered. She berated herself silently. Why was it that he should have this effect on her, making her forget things she'd been about to say, and making her feel as though she were nothing more than putty in his hands?

"Your regular clothes are perfectly acceptable here," he said, never taking his eyes off of her. "Although I much prefer you in what you're wearing." She smiled, and he leaned back in his chair, relaxing. She waited for him to speak again, but when he didn't, she took the initiative.

"Did you have anything planned for today?" she asked.

"Why, did you?"

"Well, sort of, but I was going to wait and see if you had anything in mind, so I wouldn't ruin anything you might have planned."

"No, I hadn't planned anything," he drawled softly. "I rarely plan things ahead of time."

"Really?" she asked, giving a soft laugh. "You strike me as the type who has his entire life mapped out."

"Too much planning is boring. What are you doing today?"

"I thought that I might go back to my flat and pick up a few things," she said, absentmindedly fingering the little pearl buttons at her wrist again. "And it's not long before Christmas, so I thought perhaps I might do a bit of early shopping."

"Indeed," he said quietly, his eyes on her face. "And were you planning on doing all of this alone?"

"Only if you had better things to do and didn't want to accompany me," she said, her heart pounding inexplicably at the unreadable expression he wore.

"Do you think it safe to venture back to your flat alone?" She blinked at him.

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, Potter, for one. Rumor has it that he's hell bent on retrieving you and putting an end to the brainwashing we're obviously doing with you here." She stared for a moment, then burst into raucous laughter. When her giggles had subsided, she wiped the moisture away from her eyes and smiled broadly at him.

"Oh, Gods," she laughed. "Harry has never shown this much interest in me before. Maybe it was his fight with Ron that made him so determined." Draco's eyebrows rose in question.

"Your brother and Potter had a falling out?"

"It would seem so," she nodded. "When he was here to see me, he told me that he and Harry had fought, and he'd called off his engagement to Hermione. He even showed me the ring as proof he'd gotten in back from her." Draco looked interested.

"He's not marrying her now?"

"No. And to answer your earlier question, no, I'm not afraid to go back to my flat alone. Do you really think Harry poses a threat to me?"

"One can never be sure."

"Trust me, I can," she laughed again. "Too bad for him I'm not besotted with him anymore - he'd have an easy go of it all if I were."

"You're not besotted with Potter?" Draco asked, his voice taking on a teasing note. "And pray tell, who would you be besotted with now?"

"Hmm," she said, looking thoughtful. "Let me think. I can't say I know what he looks like now, but I do recall Blaise Zabini being rather fetching." Draco laughed in spite of the small flame of jealousy that sparked at her mention of anyone's name but his own.

"I could contact him and arrange a meeting, if you'd like," he said, reaching for a quill on the nearby desk. She lunged forward and clapped her hand over his, laughing.

"Don't you dare, Draco Malfoy!"

"You've no need to fear," he said, grinning cheekily. "I don't like sharing my things." Her face flushed crimson as she sat back down.

"You're an awful tease, has anyone ever told you that?" She smiled.

"Oh, but I'm serious," he said, shaking his head. He winked at her, and she giggled. "I don't like to share."

"You speak of me as though I'm a piece of property," she said, attempting to look displeased. Secretly the thought that he considered her to be his thrilled her, and she wondered at the feeling. She remembered a time when Michael Corner had called her his, and she'd slugged him for it.

"Aren't you mine?" he asked playfully.

"Hardly," she laughed, sticking her nose in the air. He chuckled softly.

"Then please, my lady, tell me. What must I do to make thee mine?" She snorted as he batted his eyelashes at her.

"Please," she laughed. He grinned.

"Well?" She rolled her eyes.

"All right, if you insist on continuing this charade," she sighed melodramatically. "I suppose you should woo me with chocolates and roses, and fine jewelry. Don't forget the poetry, either," she added, smiling.

"Anything else I should remember?"

"Hmm, no, I think that's it," she shook her head, highly amused with his game. "Isn't that the way that all ladies are wooed and won in romantic stories? I mean, stopping short of putting me into a hundred year sleep and waking me with a kiss?"

"But that definitely sounds like more fun for me," he said, grinning. "At least I'd get something out of the arrangement then." She tossed a small pillow at him as she laughed. He thought for a moment, then frowned. "Do women really like poetry? It sounds a little poncy to me. I don't know any men who even read it, let alone read it in front of a woman."

"Draco, I was teasing," she laughed again. "Although, now that you mention it, I haven't seen you act poncy enough for my tastes lately. I mean, I know how you are about your hair, but..." her voice trailed off, and his jaw dropped. Before she knew what was happening, he'd leapt off of the chair and pounced on her, his fingers launching an assault on her ribs. She laughed until she cried, and still he tickled.

"Oh, sweet Circe," she gasped. "If you don't stop, I'm going to wet myself!"

"Can't have you ruining those new clothes now, can we?" he laughed, halting his attack. She was still trying to catch her breath when she realized that he was straddling her on the couch, and the red on her cheeks deepened.

"You're the cruelest person I've ever met," she pouted, closing her eyes. "To torture me like that, and almost make me ruin this expensive sofa!" He laughed again.

"You liked it."

"That's beside the point," she said defensively. She opened her eyes when he stood, and inspected her clothing. She frowned at him as she stood and attempted to smooth out the wrinkles in her shirt. "Look, you've gone and ruined my nice new shirt. I look awful now!"

He stepped forward and began smoothing out the wrinkles himself, and she froze, her breath caught in her throat, as his hands brushed gently against her. "There now, it isn't as bad as all that." When his eyes met hers, his movements stopped.

She stared breathlessly at him, not knowing what to say, and almost positive that he could hear her heart racing. The air between them hung heavy and charged; she began to ache for the touch of his hands again. He drew a ragged breath before speaking.

"How in the bloody hell am I supposed to keep my hands off of you if you keep inviting me to do it?" he asked quietly. "Whenever we're alone together, I end up touching you, kissing you. It isn't proper, and it's foolish of both of us." She nodded silently and her face fell.

"You're right, of course," she agreed, still struggling to calm her racing heart. "Maybe we shouldn't be alone together anymore. I wouldn't want to do anything to make you lose face." He stared at her.

"Me? I could care less what anyone thinks of me," he said, shaking his head. "I have enough money that people will fall over themselves trying to kiss up to me. It's you I was talking about." Her hand fluttered to her throat as she stared at him with wide eyes.

"You're worried about protecting my honor?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"What else did you think I meant?" he asked, frowning. She shook her head and turned her face away from him so he wouldn't see the emotional tears that had welled up in her eyes.

"I don't know," she said softly. "But thank you. For wanting to protect my virtue, I mean - not that anyone really cares about it, except for my brother."

"I care about it," he said. "If I didn't, I would have had my way with you by now." She turned to face him, the surprise she felt registered on her face.

"What?" For the first time since beginning to speak to him again, she saw his cheeks turn red and embarrassment wash over his expression.

"You heard me," he said, averting his eyes. She reached out tentatively and touched his hand with her own. When he didn't pull away, she threaded her fingers through his and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. He looked up at her and the tension eased from his face.

"We're just tempting fate, aren't we, being alone like this?" He arched an eyebrow, and she gave him an embarrassed smile. "Men aren't the only ones who think about that kind of stuff, you know."

"I don't think I'd be totally willing to give up my time alone with you," he said, tugging gently on her hand. She moved closer and nodded.

"What should we do, then? If you kissed me again like you did this morning, I'm not sure I'd be able to say no to you. I don't want to embarrass or shame your family." She held her breath, for fear that he might tell her that he wanted her to leave. Instead, he leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers. When he pulled away, she gave him a confused look.

"I told you, I'm not worried about what people think of me."

"And I don't care what anyone says about me. I just don't want to upset your parents, when they've been so good to me." He kissed her again, letting his tongue explore her mouth slowly. His pulse began to pound in his ears when she sighed, relaxing into the kiss. When he pulled away several moments later, her eyes were hooded.

"Maybe we should get a bit of it out of our system," he suggested throatily.

"How?"

"Maybe some snogging, a bit of light petting, and then maybe we'll be ready to stop?" as he spoke, his arms slid around her, and one hand came to rest lightly on her bottom. She gasped but didn't move away.

"What if we do that and find that it's not enough?" she whispered.

"Then we'd have to get married," he whispered back. Her eyes flew open and she stared at him in shock. Instantly he looked wounded. "You don't have to look so disgusted," he said, blinking. She shook her head.

"No, it's not that, it's just- well, I mean-" she stuttered, trying to find the right words. "I just thought- well, I didn't think I was someone who would be- fitting for you to even consider marrying. And I don't want to do something that's going to force you into something you'd regret later, either."

"Firstly, I decide who I want to marry, are we clear on that?" he asked levelly. She nodded. "Second of all, who's to say I'd regret it at all?"

"But I'm a Weasley," she said. "You hate everything about my family."

"I don't hate you," he said gently. "Are you saying that you would turn me down if I proposed to you?"

"You haven't asked, so how would you know?" she asked, beginning to think he was teasing her again.

"When I ask, will you deny me?" Her heart very nearly stopped beating.

"When you ask?" she breathed. He didn't move. "If you asked, and you meant it, I would consider it." Her cheeks burned with embarrassment at being so forward, but he didn't laugh at her. "But I won't hold my breath waiting for you, either."

"Ginny, don't toy with me," he said suddenly, looking pained. "Marriage is a sacred thing, and if I even thought for a moment that you might consider the idea of becoming my wife..." his voice trailed off, and her eyes roamed over his face, searching for any signs that he was teasing. When she found none, she began to tremble.

"You're not taking the mickey out of me, are you?" she whispered, awed. He shook his head slowly.

"Not even a tiny bit," he said, tightening his arms around her waist. "I want you, but I want to do it the right way. Do you want me?" She didn't hesitate before nodding. He buried his face in her shoulder, his hold on her so tight that she was having difficulty breathing. When he pulled away, he looked more composed.

"Perhaps you should go on about your errands alone today," he said, letting go of her. "I think I have some things of my own to take care of before dinner." Without another word, he left the library, leaving her staring after him in confusion.

Chapter Twenty Five

Narcissa looked up, startled, as Draco entered the sitting room. He sat down in front of her and grinned. She put her book down and folded her hands in her lap, waiting for him to speak. He took a deep breath.

"I want to ask Ginny to marry me." He waited for her to tell him that it was too soon, and that he hardly knew the girl, but she said neither of these. Instead, she smiled broadly and clapped.

"Oh, sweeting, how wonderful!" she gushed, moving to hug him. "I'm so happy for you!" As if on cue, his father entered the room and headed straight towards a bookshelf that stretched from floor to ceiling. He was muttering to himself as he peered through his reading glasses. Narcissa stood and cleared her throat to get his attention. When he turned around, Draco stood as well.

"Darling, Draco has something to tell you." Lucius removed his glasses and smiled distractedly at Draco.

"What is it, Son?" Draco gave his mother a quick glance, and she nodded encouragement at him.

"I want to marry Ginny." Lucius' smile widened.

"That's wonderful," he said, clapping Draco on the shoulder. "Have you asked her yet?"

"No, I wanted to get approval from you and Mother before I asked her."

"You have my approval," Lucius nodded, slipping his glasses back on. "I think that the girl will make a fine addition to the family." Draco's relief was obvious.

"Really?"

"Absolutely." His father peered down his nose at something in the book he was reading, and he frowned. He held the book out to Draco. "Can you translate this passage?" he asked. "I was never very good with Latin. French I can manage."

"And beautifully, at that," Narcissa said, smiling at him. He chuckled softly, and Draco scanned the page quickly.

"From what I can make out, it's talking about some sort of key," he said. He turned the page and continued reading.

"So, have you found a ring to give her yet?" Narcissa asked. Draco shook his head.

"Not yet. I was going to go out and look around before dinner." His frown deepened the longer he read. He was silent for so long that Narcissa grew bored and left the room.

"A key?" Lucius puzzled aloud. "What sort of key?" Draco shook his head again.

"I can't tell. It's very confusing. The text jumps around a lot - in one breath it mentions a sort of gem, and in the next it mentions the key."

"Well, perhaps you can research it a little bit more for me," Lucius said, turning to look for another book. "I've been combing every book I can think of that makes mention of it."

"Mention of what, exactly?" Draco asked, looking up.

"The necklace of Eriphyle." Draco snorted.

"You mean the necklace of doom?" Lucius turned to look at him.

"How much do you know about it?"

"It's made of jewels, and it has a decorated amphisbaena on it," Draco said, furrowing his brow as he thought. "And it was part of a set of gifts to Harmonia from her husband, said to be made by the Gods in ancient Greece." Lucius nodded his approval.

"Yes, but it wasn't made by Gods," Lucius corrected him, handing him another book. "It was made by a very powerful wizard."

"A very stupid powerful wizard," Draco murmured, eyeing the page his father had opened the book to. "He wound up cursing the necklace instead of charming it."

"He did that purposely," Lucius said, nodding. "He didn't want anyone else to use it but his wife, but she never got a chance. She was a muggle, and the moment she put it on, the object killed her."

"Unlucky," Draco said, arching an eyebrow.

"Luck has nothing to do with it," Lucius said. "The woman simply wasn't powerful enough to wield the necklace. She wasn't protected by any spells. My guess would be is that she didn't even know that her husband was a wizard."

"Wasn't there a robe that went with it, or some other article of clothing?"

"It was a robe, you're absolutely correct. Enchanted as well."

"If no one could use the items except for his wife, what did he do with them?"

"After his wife died, he took the items with him on a trip to Egypt. No one knows why he was going there or what his intentions were regarding the things when he got there, because he was killed and the items were stolen. They fell into the hands of Cadmus, who thought them to be a gift from the Gods, and presented them to Harmonia as a wedding gift."

"She wore them without incident, did she not?" he frowned, flipping through the pages.

"She did. Cadmus had unwittingly married a witch, and a very intelligent one, at that. Before she even put the items on, she could feel their magic, and cast a shielding spell."

"So what use are they now? They bring death and destruction to everyone who wears them because of their curse." Lucius shook his head impatiently.

"I'd advise you to go back and read through the first book I handed you more carefully, Draco. The curse can be countered with a key." Draco's face lit up.

"And you're looking for the key, is that it?" Lucius nodded. "Have you got the items?"

"Not yet. The Dark Lord believes he knows where they're located, and as soon as the Ministry backs down a bit, a group of us are going to go and hunt for them."

"How long do you think it will be before you're sent out to look?" Draco asked.

"A week, maybe two."

"I'll keep going through these books," he said, tucking both of them under his arm. "And I'm going out in a bit, so I'll look around and see if I can find any more books."

"You won't find anything in a conventional bookstore or library," Lucius said pointedly. "The Ministry knows how powerful these items are, so they're doing their best to keep knowledge of their existence away from the masses."

"I'll figure something out," Draco promised. "I'll find a way to get some more information." Lucius smiled.

"I knew you would. You're always making me proud, do you know that?" Draco's cheeks flushed with pleasure.

"Thanks," he smiled. "I think I'll go and find Mother now. Maybe she can help keep Ginny occupied, or something. I don't want her to know what I'm up to." Lucius nodded, and ruffled Draco's hair once before leaving the room. Draco went back to his room and put the books on his desk, then went to find his mother. When he found her again, she was in the parlor.

"Draco, darling," she said, standing. "We have guests." Draco turned and his expression turned cold. Pansy was sitting on the couch next to Ron Weasley.

"Pansy. Weasley." He gave a curt nod, then turned back to his mother. "Mother, may I speak to you alone for a moment?" She nodded.

"I won't be but a moment," she said, smiling at Pansy as she excused herself. Draco went into the hallway, and his mother followed him.

"What is he doing here?" he hissed quietly.

"Darling, Pansy invited him over for dinner."

"What? Doesn't she realize that he's part of Dumbledore's inner circle? If he sees Father, all he has to do is apparate back and alert everyone, and they'll be here within moments to cart him back off to Azkaban!"

"Calm down, sweeting. Pansy knows that your father is here, so she knows the risks of bringing him here. She has to have a reason for doing it." Draco relaxed a tiny bit.

"You're right," he breathed. "I just wonder what it is. I hope she knows what she's doing."

"Was there something else you needed to speak to me about?"

"Yes. I was going to ask if you'd keep Ginny busy while I go out and run some errands for father. I'm going to look at rings while I'm gone, too." Her face lit up.

"Before you buy anything, you must have a look at your Grandmother's wedding set," she begged. "It's beautiful, and I think it would look wonderful on Ginevra." Draco smiled indulgently at her.

"All right, then, I will. Where is the set?" Narcissa smiled brightly.

"It's in the vault. Do you need help looking for it?" Draco shook his head.

"No, I'm sure I can manage. I'll look at it on my way out." He kissed her cheek and left, and she went back into the parlor. Pansy gave her a worried glance.

"Is everything okay?" she asked. Narcissa smiled graciously and nodded.

"Everything is fine. He was a bit surprised by Mister Weasley's presence, but nothing more. He had to leave to run some errands. So," she said, picking up her tea cup. "How is your mother?"

Pansy smiled. "She's wonderful, thank you so much for asking. She did want me to ask you when you'd be coming back for tea, though." Narcissa smiled again.

"I'm not sure, dear. We have a guest right now, so I'd like to wait until she leaves before I venture out. It would be too rude to go and have tea and leave her here."

"I'm sure mother wouldn't mind if you brought her. It would give me someone to talk to while the two of you catch up."

"In that case, then, I might have to come soon. We have so much to catch up on." Narcissa couldn't help but notice that Ron was nervous. He was fidgeting with his teacup, rotating it back and forth in his hands. "Are you quite all right, Mister Weasley? Is there anything else I can get you?" Startled, Ron jumped, and a bit of tea sploshed out onto the saucer. His ears immediately turned crimson.

"No, thanks," he said, sitting his cup and saucer on the coffee table in front of him. He sat back on the couch and tried to relax.

"Well, then, I expect that you'll be wanting to see your sister." Ron's face brightened immediately, and he sat up straight.

"That would be great," he agreed. Pansy hid her smile as Narcissa rose from her chair.

"I'll go and fetch her then, shall I?" She left, and Pansy turned to Ron.

"You don't have to be nervous around her, you know. She's not Lucius, she's not Draco, and she's very nice. She loves your sister." Ron sighed.

"It's hard not to be nervous," he said, staring down at the floor. "I'm in the house of someone who hates me, and it's really unnerving. Especially after I saw the look that he gave me when he walked in here."

"He wouldn't dare be rude to you, Ron. You're a guest of a guest, and it would be in extremely bad taste to be nasty to you. Besides that, he wouldn't dare be mean to you if he thought his doing so would alienate your sister." Ron squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them slowly to look at her.

"Are you trying to say that he cares about Ginny?" She nodded.

"And I think she cares about him, too. They were playing chess the other night, and-"

"My sister played chess?" he asked, grinning. Pansy nodded, bewildered.

"Why is that funny?"

"She never plays chess," he said, shaking his head. "Because she always gets beat."

"Well, she was winning against Draco," Pansy offered. Ron slapped his knee and chortled.

"He must not be a very good player, because Ginny is awful!"

"I'll have you know that I take offense to that, Ronald Weasley!" Ron looked up when he heard Ginny's voice. She was standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips, looking regal. Ron swallowed hard and stood.

"Gin, you look - you look-" he watched as she walked to the seat that Narcissa had been occupying and sat down. "You look fabulous." She smiled.

"Thanks," she said softly. "You look good, too. What brings you here?"

"I invited him over for dinner," Pansy said. Ginny paled a bit.

"Does Draco know?"

"Does Draco know what?" he asked, striding into the room. Ron watched his sister carefully as Draco entered, noting that she did look happier when he'd come in. Draco sat on the arm of the chair, just as he had done the day that Pansy had brought Daphne over.

"I thought you'd left to run some errands?" Pansy asked, arching an eyebrow suspiciously. Draco smirked at her.

"I'm going to shortly. I was on my way back to my room to get my cloak when I heard my name mentioned. Nothing bad, I hope." He and Ron eyed each other appraisingly.

"Nothing bad," Pansy confirmed. "Ginny was just asking if you knew that I'd invited Ron to dinner." Draco turned his eyes to her and nodded.

"I know." Ginny looked tense.

"And you don't mind?" she asked quietly. He shrugged.

"Why would it bother me? Your brother came to see you. It's not my place to tell him to stay or go." Ginny's worried expression melted away, and she beamed at Ron. Pansy elbowed him in the side, a gesture that made Ron wince, and Draco raise his eyebrows in surprise.

"Now tell me why you were lying to Pansy about my chess playing skills," she teased. Ron grinned sheepishly.

"I don't know the meaning of that word, lying."

"Ron," she said, rolling her eyes. "You told her that I was a bad player. You know that you never beat me before, so why-" Ron faked a coughing fit. Draco was becoming highly amused by the exchange. It was immediately clear to him that the siblings were close, and he was envious. He'd never had a brother or sister to play games with, or to talk to. Pansy giggled.

"You've never beaten Ginny? How often do you play?"

"I play every night," he said proudly. "I've beaten lots of people."

"Yeah, Harry and Hermione. That's not something to brag about, Ron." Ginny was giggling along with Pansy.

"Why not?" he asked defensively.

"Because Hermione is terrible at any kind of chess, and Harry had no idea what it was until he was eleven. He hasn't had enough time to get good at it." Draco was having difficulty maintaining his stoic expression.

"Yes, well," Ron said, his ears burning. "Let's have another go at it sometime, and I'll put you in your place." Pansy and Draco exchanged amused glances.

"Hey, I have five minutes to spare before dinner," Ginny teased. Draco grinned proudly at her. She really was exceptional; the quickness of her verbal sparring with her brother was surprising to him. Then again, they had had their entire lives to perfect it. Ron nodded.

"Prepare to be vanquished!" Pansy couldn't help herself; she burst into a loud fit of laughter. Ron turned on her. "I'll take you too, Parkinson!" She sat up straight and looked at him in surprise, something strange washing over her as she saw the teasing light in his eyes. It was Draco's turn to laugh.

"Better enchant the pieces so they can't be taken off of the board illegally," he laughed. Ron's mouth fell open in mock surprise as he looked at Pansy.

"Oho! Do mine ears deceive me? Do I hear someone saying that you're a bad player?" Pansy turned pink and poked her tongue out at Draco, who laughed as he stood. Ginny turned to him.

"Aren't you going to stay and watch?"

"No, I've got some errands to run yet," he said, giving her a soft look. "But I'll be back as soon as I can." She nodded, and he tried not to be too pleased that she looked so disappointed. He nodded curtly to Pansy and Ron. "I'll see you both when I get back."

"Bye, Draco," Pansy waved. Ron simply returned the nod.