A Girl's Best Friend

A Girl's Best Friend, Part II - Chrysolithe

"The chrysolithe brings honour and dignity. It also fortifies the soul and brings wealth to its bearer."

Icatemaloyupi. Stones of the Gods and their divine properties.

Mexico, I^st century A.D.

A few days later, Ginny found herself on the front porch of Malfoy Manor. The wards protecting the house had temporarily been modified to allow for her visit, so she had strolled down the alley leading to the manor without fearing defensive spells. This allowed her to gaze at the perfectly manicured lawn through the trunks of the cypresses lining the alley. Albino peacocks could be seen strolling along the lawn, their snow white feathers shimmering in the late afternoon sun. A fountain marked the end of the driveway and gurgled peacefully, topped by a marble allegory of Justice. Ginny found the irony devastating.

Before she had even knocked on the massive front door, Ginny found herself ushered into the manor by a properly dressed.house-elf. Since Hermione Granger had found her way into the higher ranks of the Ministry, legislations regarding all sorts of creatures- from house-elves to centaurs, and, some would argue, even Muggle-borns- had been thoroughly revamped. Support from Arthur Weasley, when he had enjoyed five years as Minister of Magic, had made Hermione's campaigns such a success that few were those today who would publicly mistreat a house-elf. Ginny was glad to see that the Malfoys, for once, were no exception to the rule.

She found Draco in the greenhouse, lounging leisurely on a seat of white rattan. He looked as dignified as the bronze busts of his ancestors, lining the corridors of the manor, his patrician features having come a long way from their adolescent pointiness. He rose to greet her immediately and with the uttermost politeness, a fact that still surprised Ginny whenever she stopped to linger on it- which, admittedly, did not happen often. She understood that, in order to reclaim their threatened position in the Wizarding world, the Malfoys had undergone a great number of changes, and politeness toward Muggle-lovers and people of lower extraction were rather small in that respect. Following trials that had remained private, Lucius Malfoy had been sent to a newly built prison for two years. Narcissa Malfoy, due to her positive intervention with respect to Harry Potter's life, had spent two months in a nearby facility. Draco Malfoy, acquitted on most points, was left to arrange his parents' affairs and pay the consequent fines that had been settled upon.

Several years down the line, however, the Malfoys were well on their way to regaining their prestige, if in a more subdued way. They seemed determined to protect everything they could so that their son could have the life they had envisioned for him, but aside from that, they refrained from intervening in political and economic affairs. Many foundations, amongst which St. Mungo's and the Wizarding Association for the Protection of Orphaned Children, received copious amounts of their fortune, and most people seemed content- proof that money is indeed the key to most people's hearts, or at least forgiveness. Ginny Weasley, for her part, cared little for the Malfoy family's wellbeing, and trusted Draco to spare her the displeasure of running into Lucius Malfoy.

Draco kissed her hand and pulled out a seat for her, then proceeded to pour them both a cup of tea. As the amber liquid filed the tea-cup, Ginny allowed herself to appreciate the greenhouse where all was soft, green, and damp. That environment of light and vegetation was so different from her own, but she had often felt that some trees, with their luxuriant foliage and bright flowers, were the most beautiful jewels one could ever behold. Here, however, even Nature was subdued, white and yellow flowers augmenting the ivies' arabesques with a muted palette.

"So, Miss. Weasley, how have you been?"

"Very well, thank you. And you?"

"Fairly occupied, but then again, that is to be expected," Draco said with a dismissive shrug.

"I'm sorry, what is it that you do?"

"Aside from being on the Boards of Malfoy Enterprises, the Malfoy Foundation for Post-War Reconstruction, and the Malfoy Society Against Illiteracy, I am the CEO of Heaven On Earth."

He had to smile at the absolute incredulity Ginny's features immediately displayed. She was not one to hide her emotions well, yet he could sense, behind the composure of her cool façade, some unsettling secrets that were not without power.

"In case you are wondering, this is not the label of some erotic film company of sorts."

A brief flicker of amusement crossed her eyes.

"No? What is it then?"

"Heaven On Earth is composed of a series of spas, hotels, and restaurants located throughout England. These specialize in the well-being of wizards and other... magical beings. We offer everything from massages to relaxation concerts, tasting menus and jacuzzis."

As if to punctuate his words, a soft breeze ran through the greenhouse, making the leaves and flowers shudder in its path.

"Jacuzzis?" Ginny asked, perplexed.

"A Muggle invention of fascinating interest. Perhaps I will show you some day."

Ginny shrugged, and took a bite of her lemon tart, utterly unaware that Draco Malfoy had just discretely flirted with her. He, perhaps more surprised by the realization than she herself would have been, mentally checked himself.

"Either way, I trust that you are here to discuss business of a different matter."

Again, she gave him a look that held neither interest nor lack thereof. Purely neutral awareness.

"Yes. I would like to understand your relationship with Astoria Greengrass."

"I'm sure many people would, including her and myself," he joked.

"Do you think perhaps you could try to explain it in terms I can understand?" she asked, smiling. "Events, happy moments, common ideas?"

"Astoria and I met at Hogwarts. I suppose we had been in contact prior to school, seeing as our mothers were friends and our fathers frequented the same... circles... but her older sister, Daphne, was in my year, and, seeing as Daphne herself wasn't particularly pretty, I never gave the family a second thought."

Ginny snickered softly.

"I was indeed a gentleman of profound maturity at the time. I believe I may have helped her in Potions a few times, at her mother's request, but she was definitely too young for me at the time. Later on, I was... elsewhere occupied," he explained as a polite euphemism for his attempts to murder Dumbledore and subsequent year in Voldemort's proximity, "and it was not until after the end of the war that I could pay attention to much else."

Ginny tactfully looked at her cup of tea, marvelling at the finesse with which the golden threads sprawled across the China. She looked up to see he was staring at her, his eyes hard.

"After the trials, few were the... friends... who remained by my side. The Greengrasses were part of those, and though I understand that Daphne at some point hoped to catch my eye, it quickly became obvious that Astoria was the one who could brighten my days."

"What does she do?"

"What do you mean?"

Too late, Ginny realised she had made a blunder.

"For a living," she clarified.

Draco smiled outright, and she was surprised by how uncalculated his smile appeared.

"Why, Miss. Weasley, surely you would know better than to ask what people like Astoria, Daphne, or my mother, for that matter, do for a living?"

Ginny replied with a curt smile, unhappy that she had been caught.

"Of course."

"I suppose attending tea and discussing the latest trends in fashion does not particularly count as 'doing' much, but being the wife of a Malfoy is not as easy as it seems."

"Of course not."

Draco actually laughed.

"My, my, so much sarcasm. I could probably explain to you what the duties of a Lady of the Manor entail, but, seeing as this would probably take much of the afternoon, I will simply give you some homework for the evening."

He called the house-elf that had been keeping an eye on them.

"With your permission, of course," he added for Ginny's sake.

She nodded, absently fascinated by the manicured elegance of his gestures.

"Dimply, bring the Malfoy Code of Conduct to Miss. Weasley please."

The house-elf vanished in a heartbeat.

"Code of Conduct? The Malfoys certainly do things right," Ginny said lightly

"Naturally. This book has been in our family for generations, and I do believe it will give you a few ideas as to what I expect from my wife - namely, Astoria. You won't be surprised to hear that she expects me to behave like the Lord Malfoy as he is described in -"

The house-elf reappeared with a "pop", holding a fairly small book. He handed it to Ginny.

"Don't be fooled by its size," Draco said cheekily. "I promise you many surprises."

Ginny wondered if he was referring to the many spells that could make a book contain much more than it appeared to, or whether this was his idea of a sexual innuendo. She refrained from commenting, trying to remain unaffected by either possibility.

"I'll be sure to read this. I am sure it will help me understand a lot about your couple. Thank you."

He nodded.

"So, please tell me, what is it about Astoria that you like?"

Draco stopped to ponder the question. He seemed a bit confused, then shrugged, and smiled.

"Often, the most obvious answers are the hardest to give. Let's see. She and I get along very well. I'm not an easy person, and neither is she, but for some reason we manage not to tread on each others' toes. She always knows exactly when to stop. She always knows exactly what to say. It's almost as though a part of her can sense what I need at any given moment, and I would like to say that it's because she and I are so similar. Perhaps it is the very same thing that makes me understand what she wants and what she needs so often, as well."

Ginny realised he was no longer talking to her so much as himself. She was glad he took the process seriously, as his interpretation of their relationship was extremely valuable for the engagement ring she was to make, and she had half expected him to say, "She's pretty. She's a Pure-Blood. She knows her place." Of course, that demonstrated a certain prejudice Ginny couldn't quite afford to reveal, and so she listened attentively.

"There's something about her, this air that she has... I want to protect her. It's not like she can't do it herself, of course, but she's so gentle and frail that I can't help it. I want to make sure that she will always be happy and provided for, sheltered and safe. It's very hard to explain."

His lips stretched into a thin, self-depreciative smile, but he meant every word he said and Ginny was touched by the fact. She thought she understood him, seeing as she herself had sensed that when she had briefly met Astoria. The urge to make her happy, to give her what she wanted, had been so sudden and surprising she had associated it with the seller's instinct; after all, if Astoria manipulated Draco into buying her jewellery, Ginny would be none the worse for it. She now realized the girl herself may have been a master at getting what she wanted from people.

"Does it make you happy when she is happy?" she asked.

"Absolutely," he replied immediately. "Sometimes it is even shocking the extent to which pleasing her can make my day."

Ginny nodded absently. The most interesting part of her job was sometimes the hardest, since listening to wizards detail their love for a woman often brought her back to her own, admittedly self-imposed, solitude.

"Where do you see her in ten years?"

"Married to me, of course."

"And?"

"Well, we'd both be doing pretty much what we do now. She would definitely not work. She would meet with her friends and discuss the future of wizarding politics. She would raise my child."

"Child?"

"Yes. I- I suppose, having grown up a single child, I would have liked to have several, but she seemed to dislike the idea. We agreed on one. Perhaps having siblings isn't as much fun as I imagine it to be."

He neglected to explain that Astoria had instead invoked her figure, and actually used Molly Weasley as the very reason why she would never have more than one child; he did not think that excuse would fly well with Molly Weasley's seventh child. A sad smile marked his words on Ginny's face, but, having had the sense that she had always been happy growing up amongst a horde of red-haired children, he could not fathom the reason behind it.

"So, all in all, a fairly conventional future," she noted.

"Definitely. Our parents would probably disinherit us if we did not follow the traditional path," he added, suffusing his words with enough amusement that she did not think it entirely true- but not entirely untrue, either.

For the following two hours, Ginny grilled Draco on his relationship with Astoria. Eventually, he eased himself into the role of interviewee, and found himself revealing more information than he would ever have suspected. Though he remained within the realm of acceptable confidences, he had the sense that he had rarely been this truthful with someone he did not know well. Ginny, however, did not seem aware of the intimacy her questions and his answers created, and carried on with the neutrality of a judge. She had always liked this part of her craft, since she now understood that being a jeweller entailed more than the mere selling of precious stones and expensive metals. What many thought of as an arid profession was instead a subtle craft, in which stones evoked personalities and jewellery could represent an entire relationship. She always took into account the unique aspects of the couples she met when forging their wedding bands or engagement rings, hoping to translate into a little piece of human craft the unending wonder that is human love.

She did not, of course, expect to ever craft such an object for herself - not since the war had ripped her of her certitudes and smashed down the barriers erected after her time in the Chamber of Secrets.

Draco, absorbed as he may have been, did not miss the changing emotions that washed across his interrogator's face. He saw that though impassibility and distant cordiality tinged most of their exchanges, occasionally sadness seeped through. It was the same sadness that marked her stern chignon and the dark shades of her clothing; it was like a veil of ashes cast upon the happy boisterousness of her final years at Hogwarts. When she was done asking her questions, she asked if she could see the house in which he had grown up and hoped to raise his children. He showed her around in relative silence, announcing the name and function of the various rooms, but otherwise abstaining from commenting. They both knew the Manor to be as she expected it, grand and formal as the old one had been, but thoroughly redecorated by Narcissa Malfoy after the Death Eaters' departure.

Both Draco and Ginny were grateful for the meditative mood that settled upon them then, as it allowed them to dwell upon the thoughts and memories excavated during the afternoon. He eventually escorted her to the door, and asked what the next step would be.

"I will need to meet with you one last time to finalize the ring. I will have a few more questions for you, as well as several sketches and some of the gems I will have decided to use. I will Owl you with my availabilities."

"Please do," he replied.

"Good day, Mr. Malfoy."

"Miss. Weasley."

As he watched her walk away, an indescribable feeling settled over him.