Ginny Weasley and the Heirs of Darkness

Georgine raised an eyebrow, thinking to herself that the Malfoy family was certainly a lot more like the Belletons than they would ever be like the Parkinsons. Everyone knew that Pansy's family was nouveau riche, and new to the Dark Arts persuasion as well. Families like the Malfoys and the Belletons would make derisive comments about Muggle-borns, but in the end, it didn't really matter, as long as part of the family maintained a pureblood strain. It was the Malfoy family policy of one child per generation that was preventing them from any Muggle marriages. But Georgine decided to leave Pansy with her snobby little delusions for awhile longer. Sometime in the future, Georgine would tell her friend about her own Muggle brother-in-law, and take sadistic delight in watching the older girl's paradigms shift. But not today.

***

"Okay, you can look," Bronwen said, wangling the last hairpin into place.

Ginny opened her eyes, and her jaw dropped. "Bron- I- wow- is this really me?"

The Slytherin giggled. "I hope so, I wouldn't put that much work in for anyone else." She turned a critical eye to Ginny's clothes. "You're positive you like it?"

Fingering the gorgeous black silk, Ginny nodded emphatically. "This dress is beautiful." Imported from China, it clung slinkily to Ginny like a second skin- with a few simple spells, Bronwen had adjusted the cut so that it fit Ginny as if made for her. An elaborate coif and delicate brocade slippers completed the ensemble. She chewed her lip nervously, marring the lip-color spell and causing Bronwen to frown. "Are you certain I should be so dressed up?"

"Positively certain. I can guess the exact place he'll take you."

"Tell me," Ginny begged.

"I think not," Bronwen replied smugly, checking her watch. "Five to noon, Gin, you'd better go. Draco will be early."

"He will?" Ginny asked, realizing how little she really knew about the boy she would be spending the afternoon with.

Bronwen nodded, grinning evilly. "Yes, he's always early, or at worst, punctual. Unlike someone I know...."

"Oh, go jump in the lake," Ginny groused. "The squid could use some fattening up."

Laughing, Bronwen gave her friend a quick hug. "Best of luck to you, Gin."

Ginny nodded, her eyes bright with a giddy mixture of excitement and nerves. "Root double-hard for Fiona and Laurana, since I won't be there."

"I will, I will! Now go, before he leaves without you!" Rolling her eyes, Bronwen pushed Ginny out of the prefects' bathroom and in the direction of the Arithmancy hallway.

***

Not willing to embarrass himself by fidgeting nervously, Draco released some of his tension by drumming his fingers impatiently against the stone wall of the corridor. Where the hell was Ginny? He absolutely detested lateness; this was not a good start to their first date.

Clop, clack, clop, clack. Draco couldn't see anything, but he was almost certain he was hearing the distinctive sound of someone running down the hallway in shoes that wouldn't quite stay on her feet. A moment later, Ginny came around the corner. She was no longer running- apparently she hadn't wanted him to see her hurrying- but her face was slightly flushed, and a few tendrils of hair had escaped from her upswept style, gently framing her face. Draco felt his pulse quicken- she was achingly lovely.

"Sorry I'm late," she said breathlessly.

"Not a problem," he replied, the words tumbling out of his mouth in spite of the fact that he'd been annoyed with her only moments before. "You look amazing."

Ginny smiled, her gaze taking in his black silk shirt, gray wool trousers, and heavy, expensive robes. Draco knew he looked great, but there was a gratifying thrill in seeing an appreciative glow in Ginny's eyes. "I see we're a matched pair," she replied lightly.

Graciously accept a compliment and then deftly return it: Ginny's poised manner rivaled that of Narcissa Malfoy, and Draco found himself marveling at the fact that the girl before him was Ron Weasley's sister. If it hadn't been for the red hair, he'd have suggested she was somehow a Weasley by mistake. Draco guessed that Bronwen Zabini had given Ginny more than a little bit of coaching. Returning her smile, he offered her his arm. "Ready to go?"

To his surprise, she hesitated. "That depends," she said slowly. "Where exactly are we going?"

Ginny didn't trust him, Draco realized irritably. Maybe he shouldn't really blame her, after some of the experiences she'd had, but it still rankled a bit. "At this very moment, nowhere," he replied, vexed. "But I had planned on taking you to London."

Ginny's eyes widened. "How?" she asked.

Draco's frown turned into a smug smile as he noted the incredulity in her voice. "Are you a pureblood witch or aren't you?" he asked mockingly. "Floo powder, what else?"

"But-" Draco could almost see the thoughts racing through Ginny's mind. "Are we allowed?"

"Does it matter?"

Ginny considered for a moment longer, then a wicked gleam shimmered in her eyes. "Is this entire conversation going to be conducted in questions?" she teased.

"Do you want it to be?" Draco countered dryly, mirroring her smirk.

Ginny grinned, rolling her eyes and taking Draco's proffered arm. "Let's just go." She coughed, struggling to hide her amusement. "I mean, let's just go, shall we?"

They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments, until Draco led Ginny through the entrance hall and toward the staircase that led to the dungeons. "Wait, don't we need to go to Hogsmeade to use the Floo?" she asked, edgy. Her hand slid off Draco's arm, and she folded her arms over her chest, radiating nervousness. "Where are you taking me, Malfoy?"

He frowned, stung by her sudden cool demeanor and the end of first-name familiarity. "I told you. London."

Ginny pressed her hands to the lower part of her face, exhaling through her fingers. "This won't work. I had my doubts, and now I'm certain."

Draco stared at her in disbelief. This couldn't be happening- he did not take rejections. Especially not from a Weasley, no matter how desirable this particular Weasley was. And especially not when he'd been planning on this for months. "What?" he demanded.

"London is not in the dungeons," Ginny snapped, a stubborn set to her jaw.

"No, but a Floo connection is," Draco replied, a wave of relief washing over him; was that all that was bothering her? He arched an eyebrow at Ginny. "Why, are you afraid?" He could read her personality well enough to know she'd rise to the challenging note in his voice.

Ginny made a derisive noise. "Hardly." Her eyes narrowed. "But I don't trust you."

"I'm wounded to the very core of my being," Draco said, playing his tone so that she wouldn't be able to tell whether or not he was serious.

A tiny smile. "At least not yet," Ginny amended, good humor cautiously creeping back into her expression. "Win me over."

Taking her hand again, but this time keeping it pressed in his own, Draco smiled back, oozing confidence. "Oh, I will."

***

"There's a Floo connection in the your common room?" Ginny demanded, staring at the Slytherin fireplace with a mixture of scandal and envy in her eyes. "But how- doesn't Dumbledore-"

Draco shrugged. "We assume he knows about it, but he's never said anything. And it's only a one-way; you can't get into the castle on it, except for prefects' training, so we'll have to come back via Hogsmeade. But I thought this would be easier than trying to sneak past the pitch while everyone's out there." He gave Ginny a long, measuring look. "I'd appreciate it if you kept this a secret. Even if Dumbledore does know about it, it's likely he'd shut us down if this leaked to the rest of the school."

Ginny nodded. "Got it." Her mind was racing. She knew most of the Slytherins hailed from wealthy families, but to afford a virtually superfluous one-way Floo connection.... One-ways were always more expensive, because of the protective locking spells involved; Ginny was awestruck at the sheer number of Galleons that had been spent.

Draco pulled a small alabaster jar off the mantel, dusting Ginny with a fine sheer powder. "What's this?" she asked.

He looked askance at her. "Anti-Floo," he replied. Ginny felt a flush of embarrassment. Of course- anti-Floo. It was what kept a person ash-free when traveling through the Floo network. Her family never bought it, considering it to be a wasteful expense, but of course the Slytherins would have it. She felt even more distanced from Draco than she had before; this just wasn't her world. But she was going to make the effort- she was a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors did not give up so easily.

"Do you want to go first or second?" Draco asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Ginny blinked. Going second would put her all alone in the Slytherin common room for a few moments- what if someone were to walk in, and Draco wasn't there to explain for her? But going first would have her Merlin-knows-where all by herself, and with a one-way connection, Draco could just strand her in London if he was feeling malicious. Visions of having to walk to the Ministry of Magic and explain to her father that she'd been on a botched date with Draco Malfoy and had gotten herself abandoned in London flashed through her mind. "Is there a third option?" she asked, hoping a tinge of amusement would mask the weakness in her voice.

"We can go together."

A frown marred Ginny's features as she hesitated. Her mother had warned her a thousand times that joint Flooing could have disastrous consequences, but at that very moment, it seemed like the best option. Besides, Molly Weasley had never said exactly what those consequences were.... "I've never been. What do we have to do?"

Draco's mouth curved into a slow smile. "Well, it requires close physical contact, preferably at the mouth-"

Ginny cleared her throat warningly.

"-but something less will suffice for now," Draco finished smoothly.

The expression in Ginny's eyes was one of thoughtful appraisal. "Fine," she agreed. She slid her arm around Draco's waist, trying to ignore how strangely nice it felt to be close to him. "Will this do?"

"For now," Draco repeated, reaching for another jar. "The phrase is 'Flerving and Knouts.'"

"Flerving and Knouts," Ginny echoed. Draco nodded his approval, transferring some Floo powder from the jar and into Ginny's free hand. He kept some for himself, then looped his left arm around Ginny's waist. "Ready?"

"Flerving and Knouts," they intoned together, stepping into the flames. Ginny felt the familiar whoosh as they were catapulted through the network, dozens of hearth fires passing them by. Finally, a particular fire loomed in front of them, and they burst into the front room of an elegantly-appointed pub.

The maître d' looked up from his reservation book. "Ah, young Master Malfoy. We've been expecting you."

"Phelps, I'm sorry we're late," Draco apologized smoothly.

"Not a problem, Mr. Malfoy, we've held your father's usual table for you."

"Actually, could we have a different one?" Draco smiled charmingly at Mr. Phelps. "Much as I admire my father, he's really not who I want to be thinking of while I'm on a date."

Mr. Phelps nodded graciously. "Understandable. And who is your beautiful guest? I can't say I've ever seen her here before."

"I imagine not," Draco muttered under his breath. A brilliant smile for Mr. Phelps. "A witch from the continent- one of the French Belletons."

Mr. Phelps raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Welcome, miss. I hope our humble accommodations meet your high standards." He and Draco proceeded to make arrangements for a new table, so Ginny distracted herself by examining her posh surroundings, making a derisive mental note that they were anything but "humble." The furniture and wall paneling were cherry, accented by brass and red velvet, and the already-low lights were further dimmed by amber sconces. The front windows faced out on a lane, but it was nothing that looked familiar to Ginny- clearly, this pub was not on Diagon Alley. And yet, they were certainly still in Wizarding London, since the pub had a Floo connection....

"Draco," Ginny whispered as Mr. Phelps led them to a secluded table near the back, "where exactly is this place located?"

"Twelve twenty-one Knockturn Alley," Draco replied, smiling at her.

Ginny inhaled sharply, and her eyes lit, but she waited until they were seated and had sent Mr. Phelps off with a beverage order before commenting. "I've wanted to come to Knockturn Alley for ages," she breathed excitedly, "but of course my parents, they wouldn't let me. The only people I even knew who had been here were Bronwen and Harry, and-" she faltered suddenly. "I'm sorry." Embarrassed, Ginny glued her eyes to her menu, and then nearly fainted when she saw the prices. Starter courses for more than the cost of a new wand!

Noticing the way Ginny's eyes widened and her cheeks colored with a furious red as she skimmed the prices, Draco reached across the table and gently closed her menu. "Would you mind if I ordered for both of us? You do like French cuisine, don't you?"

"O' course, I am one of zee faymous Belletons," Ginny said, primly patting her hair in a spot-on imitation of Georgine.

Draco chuckled. "Glad you're not angry about that."

"It's understandable," Ginny replied with a shrug. She examined him for a moment, the corners of her eyes crinkling with suppressed laughter.

"What now?" Draco demanded. "Find more freckles on me?"

She giggled. "No. Actually, I'd forgotten about that."

"Well, what is it, then?" he asked impatiently.

Ginny brushed an errant strand of hair away from her face. "It's just- well, it's strange, being around you like this," she admitted. "Don't you think?"

"Being around myself? Bizarre indeed."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant."

He nodded. "And I agree, it's odd. But it's a pleasant sort of odd," he continued, leaning forward, eyes glinting. "And I-"

"Are you ready to place your order, Mr. Malfoy?" their server asked, placing goblets of ice water in front of Draco and Ginny.

Ginny saw irritation pass over Draco's features, but his face was schooled into a pleasant smile by the time he looked up at the waiter. "Of course," he said calmly. Opening his menu again, Draco ordered what seemed to Ginny to be a very long list of items, including a bottle of red wine. She would not even think about how much money they must be spending.

Their food came quickly, delivered to their table by the waiter rather than materializing on their plates the way it did at Hogwarts. Of course, Ginny realized, feeling foolish. Human service is more costly than magic. The food was exquisite, but Ginny found herself paying almost no attention to it. She was dimly aware of putting forksful of richly flavored beef Bourguignon into her mouth, but she was much more interested in her conversation with Draco. To her delighted surprise, it was wonderful to talk to him. Even when he wasn't being bitingly sarcastic, he was entertaining, and Ginny was pleased by how much his sense of humor matched her own.

"-so after that, what choice did I have? I said, 'Well, I imagine so, but I wouldn't count on it.' Ten minutes later, his potion exploded, and his hair was green and feathery for a week."

Shoulders shaking with laughter, Ginny struggled to not spit out her mouthful of chilled strawberry soup. "Brilliant, Draco," she said finally, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

Draco grinned. "Glad you appreciate it. Professor Sprout wasn't too pleased, but-" A shrug. "Why they would have me tutor the Hufflepuffs, and give the Ravenclaws to Granger, is beyond me." He frowned. "Sorry," he said, with a cavalier air to his apology. "I had intended to not say anything that would offend you today."

Ginny's eyes sparkled. "Only for today?" she asked sarcastically. "An admirable intention. But I'm not offended. Hermione and I aren't very close."

"Really?" Draco asked, clearly surprised. "I had just assumed-"

Ginny shook her head, a brittle smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "She's very sweet, and she means well, but frankly, she drives me insane."

Draco gave Ginny an appreciative look as he took the check from the waiter, passing the man what seemed to be a mountainous pile of Galleons. "That might be the best thing you've said today," he commented, rising from his seat and offering her his hand. "Ready?"

"Where to now?" Ginny asked. "Tell me you're going to take me on a tour of Knockturn Alley," she begged.

"I'm going to take you on a tour of Knockturn Alley," Draco repeated in a monotone, as if she'd put him under the Imperious Curse. He smirked. "I will, actually. But first I thought you might like to see something here in the pub."

"Alright," Ginny replied. Draco took her hand, leading her toward the back, to a set of intricately carved doors. Swinging one open, he said, "Lumos," and wand light stretched itself into the room's dark corners. "A meeting room?" Ginny asked, noting the banquet table and chairs, the large fireplace. She sneezed; everything in the room was thickly covered with a layer of dust.

"Not just a meeting room," Draco said, voice tinged with a quiet reverence. "The English headquarters of Grindelwald."

Ginny turned awe-filled eyes up to Draco. "But his presence in England- it was never confirmed by the Ministry-"

"Most people at the Ministry," Draco said, tone abruptly scathing, "couldn't find the tips of their wands without help. Grindelwald did have supporters in England. Ask my grandmother about it sometime; she knew him personally."

"Amazing," Ginny whispered. She grinned at Draco. "Your family supported Grindelwald, hmm? What's a nice girl like me doing here with you?"

Draco feigned surprise. "Why, Weasley, are you a nice girl?"

"Nah, not really," Ginny said, eyes twinkling merrily. Draco disentangled his hand from hers, slipping his arms around her waist instead.

"Good," he muttered. "Wouldn't want you ruining my reputation."

"No, I suppose we couldn't have that," Ginny murmured, sneaking her hands up to Draco's neck. Their lips met, and she relaxed into him, enjoying this kiss far more than their first one. Away from Hogwarts, with no fear of discovery or interruption-

"Well, Draco!" said a jovial voice, cutting through Ginny's cloud of pleasant sensation. She reluctantly pulled herself away from Draco, heart hammering madly, nerves afire. So much for no interruptions. A tall, dark-haired man stood before them; Ginny guessed he must have been about the same age as her father. "I heard Tom's got a few rooms available down at the Cauldron, if you're in need of one," the man continued.

Ginny was close enough to Draco to hear him grind his teeth. "Mr. Tritt, how are you?" he asked, his body language belying his pleasant demeanor. He turned to Ginny. "You know Julius Tritt, Slytherin Quidditch captain? This is his father, Gareth."

Gareth Tritt nodded at Ginny pleasantly. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your companion, Draco?" He winked. "Honestly, I think the girls of Slytherin get lovelier every year."

"Georgine Belleton," Ginny said smoothly, offering Gareth her hand, which he shook enthusiastically.

"One of Nico's brood, eh?" Gareth asked. "Divine to meet you, dear." He peered closely at her. "A French beauty with an English complexion," he commented. "How interesting."

Ginny shot a panicked look at Draco. What did Mr. Tritt know? Draco slid his arm around Ginny's shoulders. "Well, Mr. Tritt, it was very nice to see you, but Georgine and I have other plans for the afternoon, so if you'll excuse us-"

Gareth nodded. "Of course, Draco. But I'm sure your father would appreciate it if the two of you stopped by and said hello."

"Well, I would if my father were here," Draco began.

"He is. At the large corner table in the front." Gareth Tritt's brown eyes were suddenly anything but warm, and Ginny wondered nervously what she had stumbled upon.

Draco blanched. "My father is here?"

"Indeed, why don't you join us for dessert? We've just been meeting here, discussing some big news at the Ministry...." Without waiting for an answer, Gareth guided the two teens to a table occupied by several well-dressed men, Lucius Malfoy included.

"Why, Draco," Lucius said, rising from his chair. "What a coincidence, meeting you here." He smiled at his companions. "I'll see you later; tell Xander to add my meal to my account. Draco?" Obediently, Draco followed his father out of the pub, and Ginny had no choice but to follow. Out in the street, Lucius started walking, pretending to window shop. Normally Ginny would have been craning to see all the sights of Knockturn Alley, but at the moment she was too nervous to care. If someone had told her a week ago that she would be in Knockturn Alley with the Malfoys....

"Draco," Lucius began, his voice full of false cheer, "you didn't tell me you had plans with Miss Weasley today." He nodded at Ginny, favoring her with a pleasant smile. "Good afternoon to you."

With a struggle, Ginny forced her mouth into a strained smile. Lucius recognized her. Not terribly surprising, she supposed. "Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy." She tried to suppress a shiver, remembering the first time Mr. Malfoy had spoken to her: "Here, girl- take your book- it's the best your father can give you-" That had been when he gave her Tom's diary...

"So," Lucius continued, "what have the two of you done so far?"

"Just lunch, sir," Draco replied, glancing edgily from Ginny to his father.

"Oh, is that all? Do you have any further plans?"

"Some shopping. Maybe dessert." Draco's responses were clipped, nervous. Ginny had never seen him this way.

Lucius turned to Ginny again. "Have you been enjoying yourself with my son, Miss Weasley?"

Even if she hadn't been, Ginny certainly wouldn't have shared that with Lucius Malfoy. As it was, she could be perfectly honest. "Yes, sir, I have." In spite of her fear, Ginny marveled at that. I've been enjoying myself. With Draco Malfoy. I kissed Draco Malfoy!

"Good." Lucius gestured, and Ginny saw the familiar sights of Diagon Alley up ahead of them. "Why don't you take Miss Weasley somewhere more suitable, Draco?" He prodded his son gently forward. "Like Florean Fortescue's?" Another kindly smile, wicked cruelty hidden in its depths. "Have a pleasant day," he called as he headed back toward the offices that housed the Ministry of Magic. "I'll see you at home for Christmas, Draco, and don't forget to send a letter to your mother."

As soon as his father was out of sight, Draco pulled Ginny into the first nearby shop, which turned out to be Flourish and Blotts. The place where she'd set eyes on Draco for the first time- Ginny would have laughed at the irony if her heart weren't still lodged in her throat. "What just happened, Draco?" She narrowed her eyes. "And I want you to be perfectly honest with me," she warned. "If the two of us are ever going to be a 'we,' you've got to tell me the truth."

Draco nodded, and for once the expression in his eyes was utterly serious; he was cognizant of the situation's gravity. "Alright," he said, gesturing to an overstuffed leather loveseat. "But you have to promise you won't be angry."

Ginny sat down, a thoughtful frown on her face. "I can't make that kind of promise, Draco, on the chance that I'll be forced to break it. But you'd best tell me anyway."

He sat next to her, keeping some distance between them. A sigh escaped his lips. "Fine. Ginny, asking you on a date was not originally my own idea."

Two bright spots of color appeared on Ginny's pale cheeks, and Draco could see the rage that blazed in her eyes. "Not originally your idea," she said slowly. "The word 'originally' is the only redeeming part of that phrase, so this had better be good. I take it this was somehow your father's idea?" The concept seemed wildly far-fetched, but it appeared to be the conclusion Draco was leading her to.

"Yes, it was."

Ginny looked at him expectantly, the anger still clear in her gaze. "Continue," she said coldly.

Seized by his usual desire to respond with a flippant, even nasty, comment, Draco fought back the urge, struggling to be honest with her. "That day when we saw you... when we thought you were Georgine Belleton?"

"Yes?" The ice had yet to thaw.

"My father recognized you right away. Before I did, even." In an uncharacteristic nervous gesture, Draco raked his fingers through his hair. "When we got back to the Manor, he asked me what I thought of you."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, her demeanor slightly less chilly. "And?" she prompted.

"And I told him the truth. A wizard would have to be blind to not notice you." Draco chanced a glance at Ginny; the compliment didn't seem to be sitting very well with her.

"So you and Mr. Malfoy decide that I'm 'cute,' and suddenly you have permission to date me in spite of the fact your family thinks mine is scum," Ginny said venomously.

Draco decided it wouldn't be wise to tell Ginny that, for his part, she was essentially correct. Nor did he feel it would be prudent to share Lucius's cryptic remark about marriage. "Something like that. I didn't tell you," he continued, "because I knew you wouldn't take it well-"

"Understatement," Ginny interrupted dryly, her expression unreadable.

"-and I wanted to find out what my father was planning."

"So he somehow discovered that you were at Flerving and Knouts today, guessed that you were bringing a date, and sent Mr. Tritt to seek us out. Which would explain the 'French beauty, English complexion' comment- he knew I wasn't Georgine," Ginny mused. "All that because your father wanted to be certain you were with me and not someone else?" Draco nodded, and Ginny shivered, a sick feeling developing in her stomach. "Why me?" she whispered.

"Because you're the sexiest girl at Hogwarts," Draco replied with a flippant smirk, trying again to smooth the situation over with a compliment.

"Thanks," Ginny replied irritably, looking anything but flattered. "But right now, I'm trying to figure out if dating you, wonderful or not, is really worth being Voldemort's pawn again." Her tone was redolent with pained irony.

A nearby witch gave Ginny a horrified look and shuttled her small child away from the young couple. "Mummy, that girl forgot to say 'You-Know-Who....'"

Draco smiled at Ginny's throwaway compliment, but his expression quickly sobered. "Ginny, I think it's just my father. I don't think it has anything to do with... him." Flourish and Blotts was really not the place to be having a conversation of this nature.

"The two of them tried to kill me before, so what else could it be?" The light hit Ginny's eyes, and Draco saw that the primary emotion there was fierce determination. "What else could it be, Draco?" she demanded.

"My father doesn't want to kill you!" Draco snapped, voice pitched at a hoarse whisper.

"Oh, really? Have you asked him?"

"No," Draco admitted. "He told me he'd explain over Christmas."

Ginny laughed; it was a raw, hollow sound. "Oh, so it's at least guaranteed I'll live that long, then, is it?"

"Don't you think that's a little arrogant?" Draco asked, mimicking her cool façade. She seemed to want unpleasantness- fine. He'd give it to her.

"Arrogant?" Ginny echoed, uncertainty creeping into her voice for the first time.

"You honestly think You-Know-Who, if he's even back like Dumbledore seems to think, would waste his time coming after you again?"

Draco saw the embarrassment that flashed across Ginny's expression. "Oh." She fidgeted. "Then what does your father want from me?"

"I told you I don't know," Draco said, exasperated. "I'll find out over Christmas. So why don't we worry about my father if and when he becomes a problem?"

"Because it's too easy!" Ginny snapped. Her eyes narrowed. "Don't you agree that the whole thing is just a bit too convenient? You and I meet in Diagon Alley. You don't know who I am, so you're nice to me for a change." Draco started to open his mouth, but Ginny raised a hand to silence him. "Don't bother to deny it. Anyway, then your father suddenly decides we're meant to be?" She scowled. "It's all just a little bit too neatly arranged."

"Well I'm so sorry," Draco said sarcastically. "I'd hate for everything to actually work out well, wouldn't you?" He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Ginny. I don't know what's happening, and I swear I'll tell you if I find out anything-"

"You do?" Ginny asked, eyes glinting with an idea. "Then swear it on my wand."

"What?" Draco shot her a look of incredulity. "For Merlin's sake, Weasley, don't you trust me?"

Ginny made a derisive noise. "I already told you I didn't. Like and trust are two very different things. Swear it."

Draco knew he didn't have much choice if he ever wanted her to trust him. "Fine," he said irritably, waiting for Ginny to pull her wand out from the pocket of her robes. She handed him the other end so that the length of maple connected their hands. "I swear to tell you if my father has any plans that will harm you-" Draco began.

"Or anyone in my family," Ginny added.

Draco glared, but he continued, grumbling, "or anyone in your family. Happy now?" he snapped, releasing the end of her wand.

Ginny nodded, feeling the warm glow that had shot through the wand and into her hand when he said the words. Draco was magically bound to be honest with her now- a wizard oath was a very powerful thing, something even a Slytherin wouldn't dare break.

Rolling his eyes, Draco muttered something unintelligible- and likely unpleasant- under his breath. "Good," he said finally. "Now that your paranoia attack is over, do you suppose we could return to our date?"

Ginny didn't respond, chewing her lip thoughtfully. "Agreed," she finally said pragmatically. Suddenly, she smiled impishly, catching Draco a bit off his guard. "By the way, you still owe me a kiss- we have yet to complete one properly."

Draco returned her smile- this was a request with which he could quite easily comply. Cupping Ginny's face with his hands, Draco lowered his lips to hers, thrilling to the authoritative way she kissed him back. Pansy had always been a wet fish, but Ginny was an active, fiery participant. Draco slid one hand to her shoulder, trailing his lips away from hers and down to the smooth flesh of her jaw and neck.

"Excuse me!" said an indignant voice. Déjà vu, Draco thought irritably, wishing he could hex the portly old man who was glowering at them in indignation. &qt;This is a bookstore!" the gentleman continued. "You two belong back at the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower, not in my shop." Waving a feather duster at Ginny and Draco, he shooed them out the door.

"I have a feeling Professor Sinistra would disagree with his suggestion of locale," Ginny muttered when they were outside again. "We seem destined to never have an uninterrupted moment."

Draco grinned, twining her fingers with his own. "Then we'll just have to keep trying, I suppose."

"Oh, really?" Ginny asked, laughing. She shivered suddenly. "Brr. It got really cold this afternoon."

"Well, it might help if you wore gloves and a scarf," Draco replied. "Where are yours?"

"In the Tower," Ginny said, scowling. "Honestly, of all the Houses for a family of redheads to be sorted into, why did it have to be the one whose colors are scarlet and gold?"

"Ah, so it's vanity, is it?" Draco asked, amused. "You should have been a Slytherin, Ginny. Green and silver would be perfect for you."

"Ravenclaw blue and bronze would have done, too," Ginny replied waspishly, but her eyes were dancing.

Ignoring her, Draco draped his Slytherin scarf around Ginny's neck. "Perfect," he declared. "Maybe they'll let you re-sort. The fifth-year girls' dormitory is full, but you can sleep in my bed."

Ginny giggled. "How magnanimous of you." She fingered the end of the scarf. Someone- probably a house elf, nagged her conscience- had carefully embroidered "Malfoy" on it in bright silver thread. "This is beautiful."

Draco smiled proudly. "My mother does it," he said, to Ginny's relief.

She glanced at the Gringotts clock tower. "Five o'clock! We should be getting back to Hogwarts, Draco. The game is probably over, and we're sure to be missed." She wrinkled her nose. "If we're caught coming in together-"

"Things will be problematic for you," Draco finished for her, nodding. "You're right."

They took the Floo from the Leaky Cauldron to the Three Broomsticks, greeting Madam Rosmerta before starting the long hike up the hill to Hogwarts.

"It snowed!" Ginny exclaimed, delighted, as they stepped outside the pub.

"Oh. Marvelous," Draco said sarcastically, trudging through the drifts with a sour expression on his face.

Ginny's jaw dropped. "Draco! How can you not love snow?" she asked, aghast. A ghost of a grin flitted across her face. "After all, you match wonderfully."

"Ha ha. It's cold, it's messy...."

Grinning, Ginny ran ahead of him, slip-sliding in Blaise's delicate shoes. Scooping up two handfuls of snow, she wadded them into a snowball, launching it at Draco's head. Giggling madly at the shocked look on his face, she scrambled further up the hill. She could hear him coming after her, so she hurried as best she could, but the combination of flimsy shoes and freezing hands slowed her greatly, and she knew Draco was gaining.

"You're going to pay for that one, Weasley," she heard Draco call. He was right behind her....

Wham! Draco tackled her, treating her to her very own snowball in the face. Sputtering, Ginny slipped on the slick bank, and grabbed for the first solid thing her hand found- Draco's arm. Both of them lost purchase, and their feet shot out from underneath them- they crashed into the snow bank, a tangled heap of arms and legs.

Blinking, Ginny looked up at Draco, who had landed on top of her, pinning her to the ground. "Sorry," she said, utterly unapologetic.

He smirked. "Anything broken?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, but you're crushing me. Planning on getting up anytime soon?" she asked.

"I don't know," Draco replied, propping most of his weight on his elbows so she could still breathe. "I rather like the view from here."

"Really?" Ginny asked, slipping her icy fingers under his collar until she found bare skin. He shivered, but didn't move.

"Maybe we should try again for that uninterrupted kiss," Draco suggested.

Ginny smiled. "Maybe we should."

***

"And Chaser Quindlen scores! Ten points to Ravenclaw!"

Hermione sighed, rubbing her mittened hands together and breathing onto her fingers. Sandwiched as she was between Harry and Ron, she should have been warm, but the wind and snow seemed to seep into her very skin, and she couldn't stop shivering. "Can't we go in? This game has lasted an eternity," she complained.

Harry and Ron both looked at her in horror. "And miss the end?" Harry asked, scandalized. "Hermione, this is an important game! And Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are both fielding new players- we really need to keep an eye on the competition."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine. But I'm going indoors." Her boyfriend gave her a pleading look, but Hermione wasn't interested. "I'll see you both in the Tower, and you can tell me all about it." She ruffled Ron's hair with her mitten, causing several of the bright red strands to stick straight up. "Have fun."

Teeth clattering, Hermione clomped through the snow, feeling irritable.

Why was it that everyone in the entire school seemed to love Quidditch? Stomp.

Was she the only one who thought it was a waste of time? Stomp.

Even the Ravenclaws all seemed to adore the silly sport! Stomp, stomp.

On one particular stomp, Hermione's foot hit a patch of ice, and, arms flailing, she lost her balance, sliding down the hill. Her hands struggled to find something to grasp, but she continued to slip until she skidded to a stop next to a black lump that was just barely recognizable as two separate people. Rubbing the snow out of her eyes, she peered more closely. A girl's vivid red hair, spilled across the freshly-fallen snow, looked dark as blood in the setting sunlight.

"Ginny?" Hermione gasped. The pair disentangled, and Hermione saw exactly who had been kissing her boyfriend's sister. "And- and Malfoy?"

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed, jumping up. "It's not what it looked like," she explained hurriedly. "We- ah, we fell and, er, landed strangely."

"Oh, really?" Hermione asked acidly, her eyes bright with shock at this perceived betrayal. "I fell, too, and I managed to land without my tongue ending up in someone else's mouth," she snapped. She spun around and started to stomp back up the hill.

"Hermione, wait, please!" Ginny called. The older girl turned back.

"What?"

"Please, Hermione, don't tell anyone. Especially not Ron and H- well, just especially not Ron."

"Especially not Ron and Harry, is that what you mean?" Hermione was trembling, and Ginny guessed it wasn't entirely from the cold. "Ginny, I don't understand you. I covered for you with Ron and Harry before, when you spent the evening in the Slytherin common room, because I felt it was your right to choose your own friends. But why I bothered, I don't know, because the very next day, you broke up with Harry!"

"I should think you'd be happy I did, Hermione," Ginny said nastily. "Now you can have Harry all to yourself." In her peripheral vision, she could see Draco start to open his mouth, so she shot him a warning glare.

"All to myself?" Hermione echoed. Her eyes lit with understanding. "That's why you've been angry recently? You think I'm cheating on Ron with Harry?"

Ginny nodded mutely.

"Oh, Ginny, no... not at all. Harry and I have been, er, working on a project together. But you, Ginny-" Hermione eyed the Slytherin scarf that was still looped around Ginny's neck. "Are you seeing him?" She wouldn't even look at Draco, but he was clearly the implied "him."

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes, I went on a date with Draco today," Ginny said coolly. "And you won't tell anyone." It was a demand rather than a question.

"No, I won't," Hermione sighed, radiating hurt and disappointment. "But I don't approve."

"Look, Granger," Draco said, unable to hold his tongue any longer, "there are lots of things I don't approve of, either. Your presence at this school is one of them, and the way you're treating Ginny is another. When she wants your opinion, she'll ask for it. Until then, leave her alone."

Hermione waited for Ginny to come to her defense, but Ginny just stood there, expression cold. "Fine," Hermione said shakily, turning her gaze back to Draco. "I just can't believe she would give up someone as wonderful as Harry for someone like you." Irreverently pleased at getting the last word, Hermione flounced up the hill to the school.

"So it's finally happened," she whispered to herself. "Oh, poor Harry...."

***

"You shouldn't have said that to her, Draco," Ginny said reproachfully as they walked up the hill in Hermione's wake. She slipped the bare fingers of her right hand into his gloved left one, greedily leeching away some of his warmth. "But thank you for coming to my defense."

Draco was scowling, hardly even paying attention to Ginny's words. "'I can't believe she would give up someone as wonderful as Harry for someone like you," he mocked in a cruel imitation of Hermione's higher voice. "The way I see it, you finally came to your senses."

"Oh, really?" Ginny asked, amused by his sudden childishness. Any mention of Harry seemed to do that to him.

Draco smirked. "Absolutely. You saw the error of your ways, realizing there are more important things to have in a boyfriend than fame and a headlong desire to rush towards certain death."

Suppressing a snicker at Draco's bitingly accurate portrayal of Harry, Ginny asked, "Oh? And just what would these more important things be?"

"Why, good looks and money, of course," Draco said, pretending to be shocked that she had even needed to ask.

Ginny frowned. "True enough," she said, sighing melodramatically. "Now if only I could find a boyfriend like that here at Hogwarts."

"I know someone you might like."

"Really?" Ginny paused for thought. "I have rounds tomorrow night, but if you would tell him to meet me in the library beforehand, maybe we could, er, get to know each other a little better."

"How convenient," Draco replied, looking pleased. "He has rounds tomorrow night, too."

"Perfect," Ginny said as they entered the castle. "But this is where we part ways." Eyes darting from side to side, she checked to see if anyone else was around. No one was in sight, so she stood on her tiptoes, giving Draco one last kiss- a quick one. "Uninterrupted," she said triumphantly.

"Yes, but hardly worth it," he complained. Ginny smiled at his sulky tone.

"I'll make it up to you," she promised, heading for the stairs that would take her up to the Tower.

"I'm holding you to that, Ginny," Draco called after her.

"Good," she replied. "Oh, Draco, wait!"

He came back up the dungeon steps, expression smug. "Miss me already?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hardly." She tugged Draco's scarf off her neck. "Your scarf."

"Keep it."

The corners of Ginny's mouth curved upward into a quirky smile. "Would you like mine in exchange?"

Draco shook his head. "You're the only Gryffindor accessory I want, Weasley. See you tomorrow night."

***