Ginny Weasley and the Heirs of Darkness

Chapter Four: The Machinations of Lucius Malfoy

Redheads. Every direction Draco looked, there seemed to be a redheaded witch or wizard standing in his line of sight. But where was Georgine, the Belleton daughter he'd been talking to? She was the one coming to Hogwarts this year, the one who mattered.

And, if Draco was perfectly honest with himself, she was a girl he definitely wanted to know better. He'd never seen a girl that unselfconsciously beautiful- unlike her older sisters, she'd worn no makeup- and the fact that she was sarcastic and confident as well-

He smiled, suddenly sure that he'd be seeing more of her. There was no way a girl like that belonged anywhere but in Slytherin House; she was sure to be sorted there. Draco turned to Eliane. "Where did Georgine go?"

The vacantly pretty girl looked up from the magazine she'd been reading as they walked. "Hmm? Oh, she's up there with Frédéric, examining their new wands."

Draco followed Eliane's gaze, his eyes resting on the pair of twins. He nodded. "Thank you." Eliane, already re-absorbed in an article entitled "How to Snag That Rich Young Wizard Without a Love Potion," nodded absently.

Just as he was about to reach for Georgine's elbow, a voice calling his name made him hesitate. He turned, and saw a very welcome sight: two heads of golden blond hair, which belonged to his friend Damian Godswift and Damian's younger sister, Laurana.

Odd family, all in all, the Godswifts. The parents had been a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw when they were at Hogwarts, but Damian was one of Draco's fellow Slytherins, and Laurana was, surprisingly, a Hufflepuff. And yet the siblings were nearly inseparable, in spite of their diametrically opposite houses. Laurana often gave Draco pause; with her razor wit and astonishingly dry sense of humor, he would have paid dearly to know what she could have possibly told the Sorting Hat for it to have put her into Hufflepuff. Sometimes he wondered if she were plotting something-he would have laughed to know that her fellow Hufflepuffs often wondered that very same thing.

"We've been trying to catch you since before Ollivander's," Laurana said accusingly, tucking a gold curl behind her ear, which sported an array of silver-studded piercings. She gave Draco a mocking glare. "Damn tall people, you walk too fast."

Draco shrugged in mock self-deprecation. "I know, I'm terribly sorry. When I realized I'd been given the body of a Greek god, I railed against it, but it was already too late, and I'm afraid I'm stuck," he apologized jokingly. Laurana just snorted delicately, rolling her amber-colored eyes.

"Whatever," said Damian, who hadn't been blessed with the sort of patience necessary for a truly good round of verbal sparring. "Anyway, Malfoy, how's your summer been?"

The two of them weren't the type of close friends who owled much over the holidays (as far as fellow Hogwarts students went, Draco typically only wrote to Julius Tritt, Slytherin's Quidditch captain), but they visited each other's homes from time to time and did enjoy each other's company in the Slytherin common room- Damian was a masterful Wizard Chess player.

Draco shrugged, keeping an eye on his father and the Belletons as they moved away, so that he didn't lose them entirely. "Survivable. My mother dragged us to Greece for a few weeks, which was alright."

"Oh?" asked Laurana. "We were in Santorini this summer. Were you?"

"No," Draco replied, shaking his head. "We were meant to go, but my father decided he was allergic to vacation about halfway through, so we all came back to England." He turned to Damian. "I saw in the Prefects' Quarterly that you were appointed this year."

Damian nodded, looking vaguely annoyed. "Along with Pearl Gedgrave. I think it was for lack of a better choice, honestly," he said, obliquely insulting his fellow Slytherin fifth-years. "I really don't want to do it." Damian was one of those brilliantly lazy people who hated putting himself out for anything, but if his marks weren't perfect in spite of his lack of effort, he would sulk as if the world had come to an end.

Draco pretended to be insulted. "But I'm a prefect, Godswift. Lucky you, getting to join me every week in tossing bits of parchment at Granger when she gets too long-winded about Moaning Myrtle's rights to privacy, or whatever she's on at the time." His silver eyes sparkled nastily. "I assure you, it's worth it just for the look on Weasley's face when I do it."

Damian shrugged. "Sure, whatever."

"Speaking of Weasleys," Laurana interrupted, "did we really see you chatting with Ginny Weasley outside of Florean Fortescue's earlier?"

Affronted, Draco raised an eyebrow. "Me, talk to a Gryffindor? A Weasley Gryffindor? Hardly."

Laurana crossed her arms over her chest. "It certainly looked like Ginny. And besides, I'm a Hufflepuff, and you're talking to me."

"You don't count," Draco replied, dismissing her with a gesture. "Besides, it wasn't the Weasley runt, it was Georgine Belleton."

"I'll have you know that Ginny Weasley is a friend of mine, Draco," Laurana snapped, eyes sparking dangerously. "Say another word about her and I swear-"

"Who's Georgine Belleton?" Damian interjected hastily, noting his sister's rising ire. Draco reflected again on the fact that Laurana was a Hufflepuff- she might be a sarcastic little thing, but she was loyal as hell.

Draco gestured at the redheaded contingent, his father's platinum hair standing out in the crowd. The group had paused so the girls could window shop, which meant they weren't too far away. "French witch. Apparently she and her twin brother got themselves kicked out of Beauxbatons, so they're being sent here." He grinned at Damian. "Wait until you see her- she's gorgeous." Deciding to harass Damian a little, he continued, "Might even give Blaise and Bronwen a bit of competition."

Damian's cheeks flushed angrily, and he glared at Draco; Laurana just rolled her eyes. Damian's interest in dating either of the Zabini sisters was a favorite Slytherin House joke- to everyone except Blaise and Bronwen, who doggedly ignored him and cheerfully compartmentalized him into the friend category, respectively. "Red hair?" he asked derisively. "I don't think so. I prefer brunettes."

"We know," Laurana smirked, punching her brother's arm. "Come on, Damian. We need to go pick up the last of our things, and Draco's in danger of losing sight of his father."

Damian nodded. "Yeah, I suppose. See you in a few days, Malfoy."

Striding towards the apothecary where the Belletons and his father were currently standing, Draco rejoined the group, guessing he probably hadn't been missed.

"Draco," his father's voice called, "where have you been? You need to meet the twins; they'll soon be your fellow Slytherins."

Or maybe he had been.

"Sorry, sir," Draco said comfortably, knowing Lucius wasn't actually annoyed, "I ran into the Godswifts."

Lucius nodded. "That's fine." He beckoned his son forward. "Draco, this is Frédéric and Georgine Belleton."

Draco's gaze fell on the twins, and he felt a start of surprise. The girl Lucius had just introduced as Georgine was not the pretty witch Draco had been speaking with earlier, he was sure of it. He felt a vague disappointment; perhaps the girl who he had thought was Georgine was actually a different Belleton sister? But he had been sure Eliane had said she was Georgine....

He peered more closely. This girl looked similar to the first, but her hair had been curled, and she definitely had traces of liner and shadow around her eyes.

Her eyes. That clinched it- they were azure blue, not the coffee-brown of the first girl. Feeling his father's gaze boring into him, Draco managed a smooth, "Pleased to meet you." He met Lucius's eyes, and received a curt nod of approval. What was going on?

They spent a bit longer with the Belleton family, helping them locate various stores, but whatever information Lucius and Nicodème had needed to share, Draco had missed their exchange- he hoped his father would discuss it with him when they returned home, because he was rather curious. He also wanted to know why his father had insisted on introducing him to Georgine, when Lucius knew full well that they had already encountered each other at Florean Fortescue's. Draco frowned- his father must have noticed, too. How could he and his father tell that Georgine was two different people, when her family couldn't?

Making their farewells, Draco and Lucius slipped away from the Belletons, heading to a part of Diagon Alley that permitted Apparition. Draco still didn't have a license to Apparate, so Lucius handed him a small packet of Floo powder.

"You can use the fireplace at Flervish and Knouts," he told his son, as if they hadn't done this a thousand times before. "Go to the one in my study- there are things that need to be discussed."

Draco hated traveling by Floo, with its messiness and its knack for inaccuracy, but it was infinitely preferable to the indignity of holding his father's hand when Lucius Apparated. He hadn't done that since he was small, and the tradition of returning to Malfoy Manor from Flervish and Knouts, Knockturn Alley's premiere pub, was one that had started around the time Draco began his education at Hogwarts. Nodding acknowledgement to Xander Flervish, the proprietor, Draco headed for the fireplace, tossing the powder into the flames.

"Malfoy Manor, study," he enunciated clearly.

Preceding his son home by several minutes, Lucius had already sent a house elf to fetch tea by the time Draco arrived. Settling comfortably in a chair before the fireplace, Draco sipped his tea, waiting for his father to speak his mind. Lucius paced, panther-like, for a moment before seating himself across from his only child. His child, he noted, was really not much of a child at all anymore. Occasionally, Lucius wished he and Narcissa had considered having more than one, but it was rarely a good idea for there to be more than one Malfoy per generation.

Besides, Draco was all that Lucius could have asked for in a son. Except for one thing, and that was about to change.

"Draco," Lucius began, meeting and holding the boy's gaze, "what is your opinion of Pansy Parkinson?"

With a groan, Draco slid deeper into his chair. "She's the bane of my existence." As a fellow Slytherin, Pansy was fine. As a girlfriend, she was a nagging, screechy torture device with legs.

Lucius's mouth quirked slightly, but he didn't smile. "I thought as much. And what did you think about young Georgine Belleton?"

Now Draco sat up again, silver eyes guarded but aglitter with curiosity. "Now that depends, Father," he said slowly, unconsciously employing his "scheming" drawl, something he generally avoided when speaking to Lucius. "The first Georgine, or the second?"

"Very well done, Draco," Lucius approved, his eyes, identical to his son's, showing his pleasure. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his thighs. His expression was slightly predatory, calculating, and Draco wondered exactly what his father was planning. Lucius never looked this intense unless he was about to achieve something masterful. "The first.

"Were you attracted to her?"

Schooling his expression, Draco only just managed to hide his surprise. Was Lucius a doting father? Yes, he had even feigned interest during most of eleven-year-old Draco's anti-Harry Potter rants, only becoming annoyed when Draco voiced them in public. Did he spoil his son? Yes, he had indulged Draco's every whim from the moment Draco could utter the words "I want." Did Lucius occasionally treat Draco as a miniature version of himself? Yes- no son had ever been so included in his father's affairs.

But did he have an active interest in his son's personal life, a desire to know which girls he fancied?

Absolutely not.

"Why?" Draco returned.

Lucius reclined again, eyeing his son almost warily. Draco suppressed another jolt of surprise- since when did his father look at him that way? "Just answer the question," he ordered.

"Yes," Draco responded, not bothering to be secretive. Lucius could read him so well that there was really no point in trying to hide anything.

"Good." Lucius rose, resumed his unnerving pacing. "You may go to dinner, Draco. I believe your mother is waiting."

Draco felt a flush of anger- that was what Lucius had wanted to speak with him about? "I'd rather not, sir," he said carefully.

Amused, Lucius spun sharply on one heel. "Not hungry?" he asked sarcastically.

"I might be later. Perhaps after you tell me what all this is about," Draco replied, refusing to give ground. Verbal sparring was a skill his father valued, and he intended to live up to Lucius's expectations.

"Very well, it can't hurt to tell you now," Lucius finally decided, after giving his son a measuring glance. So like Lucius himself, was Draco. And yet he hoped that his son would be able to make correct choices where he himself had erred. A perverse pride welled up inside of him- for the creation to exceed the creator was a sure sign of brilliance. Draco could be his masterpiece, triumphing where Lucius had failed.

"I want you to promise me something, Draco," Lucius began, tone harsh. "You will consider my words carefully before you react."

Draco gave his father a curt nod. "Agreed."

"I want you to make the first girl yours." Draco's platinum eyebrows shot up, but true to his word, he remained silent, waiting for his father to continue. "You liked her?"

"Yes."

"Then this request shouldn't be too much of a hardship, am I correct?"

"Yes, sir." Draco's expression read nothing but puzzlement.

"Good. Now. That girl was not Georgine Belleton- Georgine was the young witch I introduced to you."

Draco nodded again. "I had guessed as much," he said, tone neutral. "Who was the first girl?"

Lucius's smile was almost feral- part of him was decidedly enjoying watching his son's internal battle. On the one hand, Draco was clearly struggling with his naturally teenage desire to rebel against something as absurd as an order to fall in love with someone. Yet his genuine interest in the most promising girl he'd ever encountered was obviously forcing his hand.... "Are you sure you're truly ready to know?" Lucius asked, cruelly drawing it out.

A flash of shocked realization shot across Draco's face, and Lucius knew the boy had understood.

Draco could almost hear Laurana's voice inside his head: "Did we really see you chatting with Ginny Weasley outside of Florean Fortescue's earlier?"

"Ginny Weasley," he said, voice hollow. "Father, is this meant to be some kind of perverse joke?"

Lucius's face was impossible to read. "Hardly," he replied. His tone was flat, as if he were caught in a web of memories a million miles away from the current place and time. He shook his head, and his expression was once again amused, commanding. "Ideally, in fact, you would at some point marry her."

Placing his teacup on the side table with a loud click, Draco rose, moving to where his father was standing. Already as tall as Lucius, Draco's gaze was even with his father's. "Why?" he hissed, flinty eyes sparking.

"You don't need to know," Lucius said coldly, effortlessly exercising his stronger power of will. Draco would be a match for him someday, perhaps, but not yet. Certainly not today, when the boy's hormones were racing and his emotions were high. "Just take my word that it's to your advantage, and hers at well." Lucius's eyes took on a cruel gleam. "After all, haven't you told me yourself that she's adored Harry Potter for years? Think of the satisfaction of twisting that adoration in your favor," he finished, knowing he had found the weakness in his son's armor.

"Now, tell me you will do it."

Harry-hatred ignited, Draco agreed readily. At some point, he would need to learn to control that temper, but for the moment it served Lucius's purposes. And it was for Draco's own good.

"Father?"

"Yes?"

"How long have you planned this?"

Lucius graced his son with an icy smile. "Do you remember when I slipped her the Dark Lord's diary?"

Draco's eyes widened. "That- that was before my second year-"

A sharp nod. "She is meant for you, Draco." Striding to the door, Lucius held it open for his son, his body language indicating that he would field no more questions on the topic. Speaking casually, as if they had been previously chatting about the weather, he said pleasantly, "Now, as I said before, I believe your mother is holding a meal for us in the dining room."

Feeling numb, Draco exited his father's study.

***

Dinner passed rapidly, Narcissa spending the meal grilling her husband and son about their day. She had meant to join them for the trip to London, but she'd woken up feeling ill, and decided to remain home. There had been a serious bout of dragon pox all across the United Kingdom the previous year and, having experienced a particularly bad case of it, Narcissa Malfoy still had the occasional spell of dizziness and nausea.

After politely inquiring about his mother's health and finishing the rest of his meal, Draco pled exhaustion and asked to be excused. Giving his son a knowing look, Lucius granted permission to leave the table but did not otherwise comment, leaving Draco to wonder if his mother had even an inkling of what had transpired during the day.

Not that Draco cared what his mother knew or thought, at the moment. Her opinion mattered, certainly, but right now he had too many things to think about for himself. Along with the heavy evening meal, he needed to digest the day's events.

Doffing his shoes and throwing himself across the top of his gigantic bed, Draco turned the idea of dating Ginny Weasley over in his mind, trying to evaluate it emotionlessly.

If he detached the name from the girl, it was an eminently pleasing concept. Of the three girls at the table in Fortescue's, she had been the one he'd noticed. She hadn't just been prettier than the other two; her eyes had been bright with a sort of quirky, cynical intelligence, and she had been enveloped in a distinct aura of devil-may-care. He'd seen how she coolly met his father's gaze- and how Lucius had been the one to look away first.

But- the name. Draco groaned, rolling over onto his stomach and punching one of the many pillows. Ginny Weasley. Weasley. How many times had Draco said the name, spat it out with venom in his voice? Too many to count....

But those had been directed at her brother, the Weasel himself, Potter's partner-in-crime.

Ron. Draco's lips curled into a sneer. He detested Weasley (and by extension, his family) almost as much as he hated Potter. And yet he could hear his father's words: "Ideally, in fact, you would at some point marry her." And be related to Weasley? Draco shuddered- what in the name of the nine hells could his father possibly be planning? Resisting the urge to run back down to the dining room and shake answers out of Lucius until his teeth rattled, Draco tossed the pillow aside and began pacing the hardwood floor in an unconscious paternal imitation.

Find the benefits of the situation, Lucius had always taught him. Twist every problem you encounter to your own advantage.

Fine, Draco thought angrily, willing the frustration to ebb. Pausing in his pacing, he began a mental list. The benefits of dating Ginny Weasley:

She had spent the summer becoming gorgeous, therefore he would be the envy of every male at Hogwarts. (And there were personal advantages to a beautiful girlfriend, too....)

It would mean he no longer had to deal with Pansy, who was not his type. Not at all.

It would incense Weasley, Potter, Granger, and all of their Gryffindor cronies.

Her sense of humor paralleled his- at least, from what he had seen today.

It would please his father. Keeping Lucius happy was important for a vast number of reasons, and most of them were locked in Gringott's high-security vault number eight ninety-seven. Draco intended to collect every last Knut of the Malfoy fortune, and if this was what it took... so be it.

He had agreed to do it. Unequivocally. If he could convince Ginny to date him, that was. Or even talk to him. He knew he'd been less than kind to her in the past.

Today, though, when she was speaking with him, she'd seemed at ease. And though her identity had been masked, she'd known who he was. And she'd flirted with him! He smiled. That decided it, really. Ginny had known perfectly well who he was, and still she'd chatted animatedly with him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. True, she might have been emboldened by her disguise, but his ego gently prodded him into believing her interest was genuine.

Satisfied with his conclusions, Draco crossed to his desk, curious to see how many days were left before start of term. As he reached for his calendar, he noticed the copy of Prefects' Quarterly that had arrived from Hogwarts the other day. He had already scanned the Slytherin names, but hadn't wasted his time on the other houses. His eyes now dropped to the Gryffindor column. The seventh-years were the same, and of course Weasley and the Mudblood were returning prefects this year as well. Fifth-years. Sure enough, Warren Channon and Virginia Weasley were listed as the fifth-year Gryffindor prefects.

Draco's eyes narrowed, and his mouth curved into a genuine smile. Prefects' training meant a near-empty Hogwarts, with only the four Heads of House, the twenty-four prefects, Head Girl Cho Chang and Head Boy Jaron Stebbins present. Assuming she was ever away from her watchdog older brother, catching Ginny alone would be almost too easy.

"Perfect."

***