Will I

CHAPTER-12

"My God, Ginny!" Hermione burst in looking livid and shocked. "What are Fred and George playing at?"

Ginny idly turned the page of the Muggle fashion book she was reading, "What To Expect When You Are Expecting" by Natina Welson. Draco had given it to her, so that she could 'pass her time and stop her empty mind's devil workshop.'

"What happened? I thought you must've grown used to them by now?" she asked Hermione, still not looking up from the book.

"Nothing, except that they know it can be risky and they are still doing it."

Ginny steeled herself not to laugh. Since when had George and Fred cared for risks? "Doing what?"

"Hosting a party."

"A party?" Ginny finally closed her book and looked at her sister-in-law, who looked scandalous.

"Yes, an overnight party for a few days!" Hermione snapped as she sat beside Ginny on the sofa.

Ginny put a hand on her shoulder. "First, calm down. Anger won't help in any way." Hermione took a few deep breaths and Ginny continued, "Now, tell me, what they are throwing the party for?" Hermione looked back at her with her eyebrows raised, obviously wanting her to guess the reason. She thought for a second. "Their Weasley Wizarding Wheezes anniversary?" she hazarded a guess.

Hermione read from a parchment, "The auspicious occasion of the completion of fifteen prosperous years of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes..."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "They take the fifth of September as their opening date, as the real orders -for the shop started when they came to Hogwarts their last year...so what's the catch?"

"I have to stop it!"

"But why? You know they like extravagance, sometimes exaggerated, but it's harmless!"

Hermione's eyebrows contracted in a straight line as she asked her, "Have you got the invitation?"

"But obviously they know-"

"Yes or no?"

"No, and nor do I plan to accept it!"

Hermione smirked suddenly and slammed the invitation card in Ginny's hands-

Dear Mr. and Ms. Ronald Bilius Weasley,

We, Mr. and Mrs. Fred and George Weasley,

Invite you to kindly attend a week's stay-in party at our beach house,

To join us in celebrating the auspicious occasion

Of the completion of Fifteen Memorable and Prosperous years of

WEASLEY WIZARDING WHEEZES, 93, Diagon Alley.

It will be a quiet party of very close relatives:

And a few other close acquaintances.

Hope you will grace our humble party with your benign presence.

"Well?" demanded Hermione as she folded the card.

"That's very typical of my brothers. And knowing them, they probably will be coming soon -to convince me as they're fully aware of my social absence due to my pregnancy," Ginny replied.

"Well, it's not going to work!" Hermione said triumphantly. "I will be sending a letter of refusal to them as soon as Ron arrives."

"You were supposed to be at the office, weren't you?" Ginny tried to change the topic. She didn't want Hermione and Ron to miss the party because of her.

"Yes, I am but Harry won't listen," Hermione sighed. "He won't let me even sit me in the office. He says it would stress me out at the Ministry and that I should stay at home as long as possible. So he practically dismissed me today."

Ginny snickered. It was archetypal of Harry to play the cautious man -doing everybody's welfare.

"Join us for the dinner if you want. And don't worry; we are not going anywhere when you will be alone here." Hermione left the apartment before Ginny could protest.

Just then, there was a burst of green flames and Fred appeared, instantly followed by George.

"Has Hermione arrived?" he asked fearfully.

"Yes."

"Damn!" cursed George. He turned to her. "We obviously planned to ask you first before sending the invitation-"

"-But Angelina posted Ron's invitation earlier-" quipped Fred.

"-than it was planned to. But surely-"

"-you will accompany us-"

"-won't you, dear?" finished George.

She would love to, she conceded to herself. But knowing her twin brothers, there would be a herd of reporters which would create a risk of exposure. "No," she finally said.

"Then surely the party is cancelled-" started Fred.

"What's the use of partying," joined George.

"-When our darling sister won't be there-"

"-In the party, free from any reporter!"

Ginny quirked an eyebrow. "Then who are the few acquaintances?"

"They are Harriet and maybe a few dealers-"

"-who don't even know you, let alone the fact that they'd never blab about you in the press."

Ginny asked George, "Why isn't Harriet's name with Harry?"

"Well, they're not legally married for once," started Fred

"And second, we don't consider that brat in our family-"

"-whatever we might say to Harry."

George turned very serious suddenly. "Trust us, Ginny, there aren't going to be any reporters."

That was the problem. She did trust them. "Okay, but on one condition."

"What?"

"I get to bring a friend of mine with me."

Fred ginned maliciously. "And may we know who this friend is?"

"Why should I tell you his name?" Uh-oh! she thought.

"Ah," he merely commented. "Sure, bring whoever you want with you."

"Well, we must go," George said and waved to Ginny lightly as Fred took a pint from her floo pot and vanished quickly. George soon followed his brother.

Ginny spent the rest of the day wondering and contemplating how she would convince or coax her 'boy-friend' to accompany her. At the end, with no result, she slept, pushing the thought of the party out of her mind. Finally, at eight o'clock, Draco banged through the door and woke Ginny up.

"Come on, sleepy head, for now is the only time to enjoy," he said jovially, pulling the covers off her face and switching on the lights.

"What?" she wailed sleepily back. "Let me sleep!" She shrugged back the covers.

"And what will you do what later in the night, a tango?" he snapped back as he gently pulled her up in a sitting position.

"Okay. If I may ask, where are you dragging me off at such an ungodly hour?" she asked him, giving him a dirty look.

"Firstly, this isn't an ungodly hour. It's only eight in the evening. And secondly, you are going to get as fat as a beach ball if you keep your lazy bum stuck here. Let me tell you, Malfoys do not date fat women, it only makes them-"

"Where are we going?" she interrupted, yawning.

"As your 'replacement' boyfriend, I feel obliged to take you out for a date since we rarely go out. So, I am escorting you to a nice muggle play, followed by a lovely romantic dinner," he announced dramatically, bowing low like a house-elf.

"Save all such exaggeration for your flirting," she brushed him off and got up, yawning again widely. "Formal or semi-formal?" she asked.

"How would you dress for your date? In 'typical Weasley' rags, perhaps?"

She scowled at him and went over to her wardrobe, still not decided on her dress. Consequently, she spent the next half an hour in selecting her dress. That too was selected by Draco only, if he had not interrupted, she might have spent another half an hour. It was a beautiful white dress, which she thought clashed horribly with her hair. She reached for her makeup box, Draco caught her hand in midair.

"No makeup," he said. He flicked his wand and Ginny's curly hair straightened considerably. "You look beautiful as it is," he finished softly and kissed her forehead.

Ginny didn't know what to say, and while trying to blink away her tears (she failed miserably at that) she hugged him fiercely on an impulse. He staggered for a second in surprise and then laughed softly as he hugged her back lightly.

"Now we just need to work on your walk," he said as a matter of fact.

"What's wrong with how I walk?"

"You walk like a man," he explained blandly.

Ginny gaped at him, affronted. "I what?"

"You walk like a man; straight-hipped with long, forward strides. No sway at all. Your bum should swing a little," he replied caustically, trying to hide his grin.

Ginny's fingers tightened around the glass of water, threatening to snap the glass in half. "My bum should swing?"

"You move far too purposefully," he went on, ignoring the warning in her tone.

Ginny couldn't believe his gall. "But then, everything about me is efficient, isn't it, Malfoy?" she retorted playfully.

Malfoy smirked and after glaring at each other for a few seconds, both off them started laughing.

"Come on, or else we will be late," he finally gasped between laughs.

They reached for the play just on time. Draco had heard of the play from one of his new colleagues and much to his dismay, it turned out a romantic one. As far as Ginny was concerned, it was extremely touching play of about a couple of hours which Ginny felt lasted only a few minutes. To her immense surprise and amusement, when she had turned to Draco as the play ended, she saw Draco sniffling and wiping his tears away with the sleeve of his shirt.

She was still teasing him, laughing hysterically as they filed out of the theatre. "And then when the king-" she started.

"I was not scared!" he cut in shortly, his voice adamant like a child claiming to be brave.

Ginny donned a false, horrified expression. "My blood circulation nearly stopped!" She showed him her left arm. "You gripped my arm so tight."

"That was because I was really annoyed."

"Uh-huh..."

"I was annoyed that a play could be so-"

"Touching," Ginny supplied the word.

Draco glared at her. "No. It was so infuriating that I grabbed your hand in frustration and nothing else."

"I suppose those tears were also because of frustration, were they?" she pressed, enjoying every moment of teasing him.

Squabbling, they walked to a newly opened French restaurant nearby, Le Manoir.

"Typically your choice, Malfoy," Ginny muttered as they entered the grand restaurant. "Ostentatious and lavish."

He gave her his trademark smirk and guided her to the receptionist, a petite French girl probably in her middle twenties. "I have a table booked for two," he said in his school time 'you-better-see-whom-you-are-talking-to' tone.

The girl gave him a bright smile. "Your name, sir?" she asked politely.

"Draco Malfoy."

The receptionist glanced at her book and nodded at them. "May I lead you to your table?" she said but didn't wait for an answer and lead them to a secluded corner, where a table was arranged for two people.

The receptionist bowed and left them. Draco turned to Ginny, his eyes questioning.

"Well," Ginny said as she raked her eyes over the table, "for me, it's splendid. But coming from you, maybe it's just mediocre. Tell me Draco," she turned to him. "Can't you do anything a little less dramatically?" She waved her arms around. "I mean, why the need to waste money?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Compared to you, it's nothing. If you take no offence, I might comment on the usual lack of extravagance in your life, which you deserve," he said and pulled out the chair for her. After settling her, he brandished out a rose for her and gave it to her. She snickered as she took the rose, but he paid no heed.

"If you forgot, Ginny," he continued their talk, "I am a Malfoy and my father unwittingly left all his possessions to me in his will. So, I have enough money to spend it over the next seven generations of my family."

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "What about the eight generation?"

Draco had trouble preventing his eyes from rolling again. "You won't ever get over your Weasley conservative attitude, will you?" he asked sarcastically. "I thought being an Auror would give you enough sense of generosity. Regarding my eight generation, surely they would have to learn to earn their own money if they want to spend it." He raised his hand slightly and the maitre d' arrived beside him, as if conjured from thin air.

He bowed deeply as he placed the menus on the table. "Your orders sir?" he asked in a heavy French accent, which would have made Fleur bristle.

Ginny quickly scanned her menu. Almost all of the dishes were probably too heavy for her stomach to digest and she looked fearfully at Draco, but he just winked at her and mouthed 'just-take-a-chance, it-won't-hurt' to her.

She coughed and straitened up slightly. "I would like to order Escalope de turbot with Caesar Salad."

"And monsieur?"

Draco looked amused, and ordered for himself, "Consommé and the duck -crispy. Bring along half a bottle of your best red wine."

The maitre d' bowed and left.

"I wanted to ask you for some guidance," Draco blurted as soon as he left.

"For what?" Ginny pretended a surprised expression, even though she was expecting such a sentence from Draco soon.

"A few days back, a nice gorgeous lady joined our office," he paused. "I want to take her out for a date, you know. It was only 5 days ago that she joined the office and I feel as if I have known her all of my life..." And thus they spent the next half an hour discussing how he should try to woo the lady and take her out for a date.

They were finally interrupted when three dishes covered with silver domes were placed in front of them. On a nod from the maitre d' the three domes were lifted in unison by the waiters. The food and other arrangements ware magnificent, especially the group of the three men, playing soft violin only for her, while the onlookers threw them appreciative glances. Ginny felt it would be churlish not to admit it, so she heartily did.

Ginny knew she was also stalling the inevitable for later, even though she knew this was the best time to do it. As she finished, she finally mustered up the courage. "Draco?" she asked as she took just the tiniest sip of her wine.

"Hmm?" He put the last bite of his duck in his mouth and reached for his glass of wine.

"Will you go out with me?"

"Sure, I'll go anywhere with you, including hell. Where do you want to go?" He raised his glass to his lips.

"To Fred and George's move-in party at their beach house."

Draco choked so violently on his wine that a waitress rushed to them, alarmed and the musicians stopped for a second in alarm.

"No, no. It's okay. I'll see to it," she muttered to the waitress, who left them uncertainly. The music started again. She gave a tissue paper to him. He coughed silently into it for some seconds.

"You really did ask for the hell," he finally gasped. "Are you crazy? The youngest of your elder brothers is crazy enough for me to handle. I suppose I am grateful that you brothers didn't kill me during the war itself." He wiped his mouth and put the napkin down. "I literally shook from top to bottom whenever I came for an order meeting, fearing that finally one of your brothers would finally kill me that time."

"Which one?" she retorted.

"Pick one!"

Ginny looked at him, hurt. "Bill is not that bad."

"Well, Bill and Charlie were sensible enough as long as I didn't direct my sight on them. Percy was always dumb, to come to the point," he conceded a little.

Ginny sighed. "That leaves only the twins and Ron."

Draco thumped on the table lightly. "The only three who will be most present there to torture me. Ginny, please be sensible, those three will probably kill me before I even raise my foot to enter their threshold." Ginny kept giving him her most innocent and dewy eyes look and he finally gave in, "Okay, I'll try." He raised his hands in defeat. "But technically there might be a problem. There's a pretty strong rumour going, of a new manager joining the bank soon. When do you want me to take leave?"

"A week, starting from fourth of September," replied Ginny gleefully, unable to hide her joy.

"That should do it. The manager will be joining this week itself, so it will give me enough time to ask for a week's leave if," he added a bit loudly, as Ginny clapped her hands in delight, "the manager is generous enough to grant me one." His voice suddenly turned non-committal.

So, Ginny didn't raise the topic again even after they finished their dinner. Draco motioned for the bill and in an instant the bill was on their table.

"Are you sure there isn't a witch or a wizard associated with this restaurant?" Ginny asked suspiciously, uncomfortably noticing the speed of the workers.

"I'm sure," Draco replied as he put his 'Kre-ditt' (Ginny still didn't understand its function) card on the bill and stood up. The card was swept up the next instant by the waitress. Ginny turned to him to warn him, but he nodded at the waitress and continued, "This is a completely Muggle restaurant. Of course, they have to keep up their service speed if they want to impress their customers. There's nothing magical in the way they served us." He helped her stand and steered her towards the gate, clutching her right arm in a light courteous manner.

"Hey!" he exclaimed suddenly, stopping. He was looking to his left.

"What?"

He leant in her and whispered, "Let me introduce you to the dazzling woman I was just ranting about." He led her to a table where quite a professional dinner was taking place between two women, still dressed in their office clothes.

"I believe I told you to get some rest, Syl!" Draco's voice showed some exasperation as he playfully addressed one of the women.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy." A beautiful woman stood up graciously and shook her hands with him. The other woman, who was probably more comfortable with him, just flashed him a brilliant smile and greeted him, "Hey, there Malfoy!"

"Let me introduce two equally bewitching ladies to each other. Ginny, this is Sylvia D'Souza, my new colleague."

Sylvia laughed softly. "Save all the flattery, Mr. Malfoy."

"And you save all the formality."

"Nice to meet you Miss D'Souza," Ginny said as she shook hands with her. Ginny looked at her critically and knew that Sylvia was all opposite of Draco, even more different than Sarah.

While Draco was sharp featured with his pale skin, Sylvia had extremely soft features with a rosy tinge in her skin. In contrast to Draco's steely (often cold) gray eyes and shiny blond hair, Sylvia donned an oval face, accentuated by big blue eyes and unimaginably long black hair with smartly done brown highlights, which were presently plaited and fixed in a messy bun. The only feature common which could be easily seen between the two was their tall and lean body. Ginny estimated Sylvia's height to be about five feet ten inches, only a couple of inches shorter than Draco. Ginny had a hunch, that Draco was indeed very serious about her.

"Please, call me Sylvia. And nice to meet you Mrs. ..."

"Weasley, Ginevra Weasley. Call me Ginny." Ginny didn't correct the word Mrs. to avoid unwanted awkwardness. Sylvia's smile widened.

"She is a friend of mine," Draco explained, snaking his arm around Ginny's swelled stomach -and suddenly she felt exhilaration. She could feel the difference in his hold of her. It was purely a brotherly possessive act. She looked at him happily, and saw him looking back at her adoringly. "And -a very special one at that."

"Well, looking at you two, it seems that you have already finished your dinner," Sylvia said. Her tone turned apologetic, "If you don't mind the pun -I would have loved to join you. But I just got here, and Maria and I have some important office work to do."

"Still immersed in office work, Sylvia? I told you, you ought to give yourself rest," Draco chided.

Ginny could see Maria, waving her hands furiously behind Sylvia's back at Draco but he was too busy chiding her to notice.

"Keep working like this and they might cancel the idea of new manger and promote you instead," he smirked.

Sylvia grinned mischievously and Maria slammed her forehead and banged it mutely on the dining table.

"And from what I've learnt, the new manager is a real slob, getting the hell out of everybody," he joked.

And then Ginny knew as she looked at the despair on Maria's face what she had been trying to communicate to Draco. Ginny wanted to laugh, but constrained for Draco's sake. She had to get him out of this muddle he had got himself in, before it was too late.

"Draco, darling...er...we need to go,' she whispered timidly, tugging on his arm.

But Draco paid no heed to her and continued ranting against the manager. Finally Sylvia's mobile rang. She picked it up and muttered a quick but clear, "Yes, sir. I'll join tomorrow," and cut the phone.

"What are you joining tomorrow?" Draco asked, still laughing softly.

Finally Maria spoke, her voice quiet and stuttering, "M...Miss Sylvia is our new Man -Manager, Draco. She was just trying to... mingle with us during this week."

Only Ginny saw Draco's smile alter for a nanosecond, before he smiled even wider, but she knew better. Draco's demeanour had faltered, which was noticeable to Ginny only because of her job as an Auror. Now he was desperately trying to cover for his job. She motioned for the waitress, who brought the card back to her as she moved a bit away from Draco to give him some air.

After waiting for a couple of minutes, she went back to rescue him. "Well, it's late and we must go," she announced as she took Draco's arm in a firm grip. She turned to Sylvia. "Please don't mind. He babbles a bit."

She laughed softly. "Sure I won't."

As soon as they kept their first step outside the restaurant, Draco visibly slumped and his confident air deflated as he continued to walk.

"I messed it up."

"She looked sensible enough to me to take it seriously," replied Ginny fairly.

"Now I won't even get holidays to accompany you to Fred and George's party."

"You're willing to go if she gives you the leave?" Ginny asked hopefully.

"I intended to."

Ginny said a silent prayer to Sylvia to grant him enough leave for a week. "You are promising to come if she lets you?" she again confirmed.

Draco read the hope in her voice. "Keep hoping. I don't think I'll get it now, after I said so much to her, even if she sleeps with me," he paused for a moment. "Either that or maybe I'll get a very long holiday, stretching until I get a new job."