Ginny Weasley and the Heirs of Darkness

Chapter Fifteen: Serpentine Encounter

Apparating into the Malfoy Manor dining room with a distinct 'pop,' Lucius inhaled the glorious aroma of roast lamb and cucumber salad. "Greek again tonight, Narcissa?" he asked his wife, who was lounging on a settee near the fireplace.

Narcissa Malfoy smiled, setting aside her embroidery work: a pair of gloves that would eventually read "D.N.M." on the cuffs. "Good evening, Lucius," she said, accepting his kiss with a smile. She'd been feeling healthier than usual recently, and it was nice to see that Lucius mirrored her good mood. "How was work?"

He ignored her question, sitting down next to her and examining the pair of gloves. "How many monogrammed items does Draco need?" he asked.

Narcissa shrugged. "Well, he'll wear them, and you won't, so...." She leaned her head against Lucius's shoulder, nuzzling her cheek against the rich brocade of his cloak. It was a marvel, really, what a comforting presence her husband could be. Particularly considering how revolted she'd felt the first time he touched her. An eon ago....

"-even listening to me?"

"Not in the least, darling," she murmured contentedly.

"As I was saying," Lucius continued irritably, "speaking of our son, I saw him today at Flerving and Knouts."

Attention instantly captured, Narcissa sat up, staring at her husband in wide-eyed amazement. "In London? Draco?"

"No, one of our many other children," Lucius snapped. "Yes, Draco."

Narcissa's blue eyes narrowed. "And?" she prompted, tone cool. She shrugged out of her husband's embrace. "Why was he there?"

"He was on a date." Lucius's eyes scanned his wife's face. "With Ginny Weasley."

Ginny Weasley.... Narcissa had heard the name before, but she couldn't quite place it. "One of Arthur and Molly Weasley's brood?" she hazarded.

"The same," Lucius said crisply, nodding.

"And?" Narcissa repeated, wondering what Lucius thought of it. She knew full well his opinions on Muggle-loving families. Narcissa herself had no real problems with Muggles, though she agreed with her husband that Muggle-born children, no matter how talented, had no place in the wizarding world. They simply didn't belong; and more importantly, they were a constant threat to wizard secrecy. Narcissa would never understand why people like the Weasleys wanted to take such an unnecessary risk.

Lucius's eyes were fixed on the fire. "I'm the one who told him to pursue her."

Realizing that the sleeve of her silk dressing gown was sliding off her shoulder, Narcissa yanked it up again, feeling incensed. "Oh, isn't that nice?" she asked frostily. "And how long have you and Draco been planning this without me?"

"Since August."

"August," Narcissa said dully. "How kind of you to not inform me for nearly four months." She reached over, grasping Lucius's jaw and letting her nails lightly graze his skin. Forcibly turning his head, Narcissa drew her husband's face close to her own. "Tell me, Lucius," she commanded imperiously. She felt sick- she hated when Lucius treated Draco like a pawn instead of as his son.

Eyes glittering with an amused malice, Lucius lightly slapped her hand away. "If you're worrying about Draco, Narcissa, you needn't. Your son is fine." He chuckled. "Really, what could the Weasley girl do to him?"

"But is she safe from him?" Narcissa asked, fully aware of just how like his father her son really was. Draco had some of his mother in him, but not as much as she would have preferred.

Lucius stretched, resting comfortably against his wife, exulting in her warmth. "She'll be fine. Ginny is different from the rest of her family."

Narcissa trailed her fingers through Lucius's hair, the short platinum strands soft against her skin. "Oh, is she?" she asked, voice dangerously quiet. "Why don't you tell me about how different she is, Lucius darling. And why she's so important to you."

***

Five vials of bat's blood, one teaspoon of dried frog skin, one pinch of thyme. Ginny rubbed her eyes tiredly; she'd been working on homework all of Sunday afternoon, and she particularly detested Potions. She received decent marks, but the only two subjects she really excelled in were Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. She was trying to put in more effort this year, since the O.W.L.s were coming up in the spring, but she knew she wouldn't come close to Bill's and Percy's scores. Schoolwork just didn't interest her.

"Ginny, Charlie'd like us to come visit him. Do you have time?"

Ginny checked the clock on the wall. She had thirty minutes before she had to leave for rounds, and she was nearly finished with her homework; the rest could be done in the morning. "Sure, Ron," she told her brother.

"Great." Ron turned, calling across the common room, "Oy, Harry, Hermione, let's go."

Ginny felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. If she'd known Harry and Hermione were coming, she'd have declined. "Can't it just be the three of us, Ron?" she asked quietly. "Just family?"

Ron frowned. "Ginny, Harry and Hermione are family."

"For your information, I'm not dating Harry anymore, Ron," Ginny hissed.

"He's still family," Ron said stubbornly. "And I'm sure you two will work out your problems."

Harry and Hermione were within earshot, so Ginny couldn't say anything else, but she wanted to shake her brother silly. When would Ron get it through his thick head that she and Harry were never going to be together again?

"Afternoon, Ginny," Harry said.

Ginny gritted her teeth. Ron and Hermione were ahead of them, hand in hand, talking about classes; there was no hope of escaping to her brother. Additionally, she felt terribly guilty about the things Draco had said to Hermione the day before- she really didn't want to see the wounded expression in the other girl's eyes. She was stuck with Harry.

"Afternoon, Harry," she replied.

They walked in silence for a few moments until Harry finally said, "So, did you enjoy the game yesterday? I didn't see you."

"I was in the Slytherin stands with Bronwen," Ginny lied. She was a miserable liar, but she certainly couldn't tell Harry the truth. Assuming Hermione hadn't already told him....

"Oh," Harry said, cooling considerably. "Are you sure you were with Bronwen?"

Ginny's heartbeat sped up. "Who else would I have sat with?" she asked, feeling edgy.

"Malfoy, perhaps?" Harry returned snidely.

"What?" Ginny sputtered. "Did- what did Hermione tell you?"

"Hermione?" Harry echoed blankly.

Hearing her name, the older girl turned around. "Hmm?"

Harry's brow was furrowed. "Ginny said you have something to tell me."

"I didn't!" Ginny exclaimed, feeling trapped. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all staring at her.

"Why don't you tell Harry and Ron where you were yesterday, Ginny," Hermione said coolly. Ginny met the other girl's eyes, seeing the hurt there. Hermione wanted everything repaired. Like Ron, she wanted things to be as "perfect" as they had been in August.

Ginny felt a bolt of irrationality shoot through her. No one cared whether she was happy, no one cared whether or not she even liked Harry anymore. All that seemed to matter was what Harry, Ron, and Hermione wanted. Well, Ginny was tired of the three of them always getting their way.

"I was in London."

Ron's and Harry's eyes bugged. "London?" they said in unison. Ginny's mouth narrowed to a thin line, masking her surprise. So Hermione had kept her word- she hadn't told them. "G- gin," Ron stammered. "Who with?"

"Oh, why don't you guess, Ron," Ginny said, tone saccharine. "You've been paranoid about it for weeks."

Harry beat Ron to it. "Malfoy. You were in London with Malfoy." The look in his eyes made Ginny feel sick with guilt, but she held her ground.

"Yes."

Ron was so angry he was nearly incoherent. "Gin- how could you?" he finally sputtered.

Ginny searched frantically for a response. "If you want to point fingers of betrayal, Ron, consider these two," she said hastily, indicating Hermione and Harry. After what Hermione had told her yesterday, Ginny didn't really believe the two were secretly dating each other, but it was the first thing that came to mind as a diversion. "They've been seeing each other behind your back."

Ron's eyes widened. "What?" he demanded, shocked and horrified. He was silent for a moment, and it was clear from the expression on his face that he was jumping to the same conclusions Ginny had. "I- never mind. I don't want to be around any of you." Glaring furiously at Hermione and Harry, he spun on his heel, running off down the corridor.

Hermione ran after him, but not before giving Ginny a stricken look. "How could you?"

Ginny already regretted what she'd done. She was angry at Harry and Hermione for trying to control her, but she shouldn't have said that, and she knew it. Harry was staring at her, a horrified look in his eyes.

"How could you say that about me and Hermione?" he demanded, echoing Hermione's words. "She loves Ron, and I-" He looked miserable. "I love you."

Ginny's heart contracted painfully, and her sickened feeling intensified sharply. "Harry, you don't love me, you love the idea of me. You want to be with your best friend's sister, but you have no idea who I am."

Harry's face was bright red. "Damnit, Ginny, I do! I've known you since you were ten-"

"And you seem to think I'm still that ten-year-old girl!" Ginny snapped.

"I do not! Gin, I-"

"Potter," drawled Draco's cool voice, "you aren't harassing my girlfriend, are you?"

Ginny spun around- she hadn't even heard Draco coming up behind her, and apparently Harry had been too angry to notice.

The redness in Harry's face drained to a ghostly white, and Ginny realized that seeing her with Draco was the final straw for him.

"Draco and I have to go on rounds, Harry," she said hurriedly. "We'll talk about this later." Taking Draco by the arm, she dragged him down the hallway to the prefects' meeting room.

"Take it easy, Weasley," Draco said, rubbing his arm where her fingers had dug into his skin. "I can walk on my own."

Ginny ignored him. "Did you mean it, Malfoy?"

Draco gave her a quizzical look as he crossed the room to check his mailbox. "Did I mean that I can walk on my own? Certainly."

Ginny released an exasperated sigh. "Did you mean it when you told Harry that I'm your girlfriend," she clarified irritably. "Or was it just to make him angry?"

Scanning his mail, Draco seemed to be pretending he hadn't heard her. "Well?" Ginny demanded.

Still Draco didn't bother to look up. "When I saw you earlier this year, Weasley, you were my dream girl," he said finally, almost as if it were an afterthought.

"Why the past tense?" Ginny asked, heart hammering.

"Well," Draco said, sifting through the notices and flyers from Cho and Jaron, "you're still fairly attractive." His eyes flicked to Ginny's clothes. She was wearing her typical weekend attire: a short black skirt and old T-shirt. Draco cleared his throat. "Especially in that skirt. But before, well...."

"Yes?" Ginny asked tensely.

"Before, you were Potter's girlfriend."

Ginny's jaw dropped, and then she started to giggle in relief. "You liked me better when I was Harry's?" she demanded in mock incredulity.

Draco shrugged fluidly, tossing the bulk of his mail into the wastepaper bin. "Well, it gave me something to work for," he said, moving closer to her.

Ginny ducked away from him, snorting delicately in derision. "Actually, you still have quite a lot to work for, Malfoy." She glared at him. "You haven't yet answered my question."

"Which one?" Draco asked as he jotted a quick reply to one of his letters on a sheet of parchment.

"You told Harry that I'm your girlfriend," Ginny said through clenched teeth. "Did you mean it, or did you just say it to annoy him?"

Draco folded the parchment in quarters, sealing it with a quick spell. "You'll learn that I always mean what I say, Weasley." His gray eyes were fixed on her with an intensity she hadn't seen yesterday, and she shivered in delight. Faster than he was, she brought her hands up to his face, standing on tiptoes to meet his mouth with her own. "Ginny," he breathed before their lips touched....

"Ahem."

Ginny and Draco leapt apart, startled, to see Filch and Mrs. Norris in the doorway to the prefects' room. Filch glared at the two of them. "This is hardly the place or the time," he said irritably. "Malfoy, you're not on duty tonight. Where's Walter Shelby?"

"He wasn't feeling well," Draco said, "so I offered to take his place." Ginny stared at him, but Draco's eyes were fixed firmly ahead at Mr. Filch.

Filch clearly didn't believe that any Slytherin, particularly Draco Malfoy, would be struck with a severe enough case of volunteerism to take prefect duty for a Hufflepuff; it was quite obvious Malfoy was there to see Miss Weasley. But he had to have two prefects, and it was nearly impossible to get students to take Sunday night duty. Malfoy and Weasley would have to do. "Fine," he grunted. "Here's your list. Try to remember that you're here to guard the castle. Mrs. Norris and I will check the dungeons. Come along, my sweet," he said to the mangy cat.

As soon as Filch was gone, Draco started to reach for Ginny again. "We seem to be continuing yesterday's trend," he complained. Ginny backed away from him, a teasing smile playing at her lips.

"You told me you had rounds tonight," she accused.

Draco shrugged. "I do."

"But you didn't yesterday, when I told you I would be on duty."

"No. But I told you I would have rounds tonight, and now I do." He raised an eyebrow at her. "You didn't really think it was just a fortuitous coincidence, did you?"

Ginny shook her head, the corners of her eyes crinkling with suppressed laughter. "And Walter Shelby?"

"He seems to be suffering from a mild case of indigestion. I was there when he fell ill, and kindly offered to take duty for him tonight."

"Draco, that's terrible!" Ginny cast a horrified look at him. "Poor Walter-"

"Oh, he's fine," Draco said dismissively. "He only felt ill for a few moments, and now he's gotten out of having Sunday evening rounds." He smirked. "And he doesn't have to have rounds with you, which should really improve his evening."

Ginny stuck out her tongue. "You don't seem to mind having rounds with me."

"That's because I know you're a good kisser, Weasley. Shelby hasn't been enlightened." Draco moved closer to her. "I figured we'd keep it that way."

Sniggering, Ginny backed away from him again, skimming Filch's list. "We should get started." She showed him the sheet of parchment. "Preferences as to where we begin?"

"Owlery. I need to send this reply."

Ginny brightened- she hadn't seen Pigwidgeon in awhile, and it would be nice to visit him. Hopefully Ron didn't have him out on a delivery. "Alright," she agreed.

The halls were empty of students, so Ginny slipped her hand in Draco's, enjoying his warmth. My boyfriend, she thought, pleased. Finally having Harry had been a vindication, the culmination of a five-year crush. But with Draco... the feeling was heady intoxication. She loved the way he kept her guessing, the way he challenged her. She would have been happier if their relationship was still a secret from Harry, but she didn't want to think about Harry right now- or Ron and Hermione, for that matter. It only made her feel guilty.

"What are you thinking about so intensely?" Draco asked as he opened the door to the Owlery for her.

Ginny blinked. She must have been lost in her own thoughts for quite awhile, if they were already to the Owlery; it was a long walk from the prefects' room. "Nothing," she said, trying to keep her tone light. Draco gave her an odd look, and she knew he could tell she was lying, but he didn't comment on it.

"This," he said instead, gesturing to a magnificent gray eagle owl, "is Argentus." The owl turned his deep amber eyes on Ginny, giving her a measuring look. Ginny reached up to scratch the feathers on his neck, and the owl's eyes closed as he leaned into her fingers. Draco tied his missive to Argentus's leg.

"Home with this one, Argentus," he told the owl. Argentus didn't budge, still nuzzling against Ginny's fingers. "Ginny," Draco said, "he'll never leave if you keep on like that."

"Oh," Ginny said, feeling foolish. She retracted her hand, and Argentus opened his eyes, glaring balefully at his owner.

"Well?" Draco said crossly to the owl. "She's not here to be with you. Go on, now." Still looking disgruntled, Argentus spread his wings and soared off into the night. Draco turned to Ginny. "Where next?"

"Just a moment." Grabbing a handful of owl treats from a nearby jar, Ginny climbed the steps to where Pigwidgeon normally roosted. "Pig?" she called. "Are you here?"

Hedwig, who had been sleeping nearby with her head tucked under a wing, blinked awake, hooting softly when she recognized Ginny. "Good evening, Hedwig," Ginny said, offering the snowy owl a treat.

"Is that your owl, Ginny?" Draco asked her, surprise clear in his voice.

"No," Ginny replied, patting the pretty bird. "She's Harry's." She froze, and there was an awkward silence. "I, er, I don't have an owl. But I usually use Ron's." She gave Hedwig another pat, then moved away, still searching for Pigwidgeon. "Pig?"

A fluttering of wings and a rustle of feathers, and suddenly Pig was flying around Ginny's head, chirping excitedly. Hedwig shot him a nasty look, but he paid her no heed. Ginny chuckled, offering the tiny owl her wrist to land on- he was little enough that it didn't hurt.

"What is that owl's name?" Draco asked, as if he couldn't possibly have heard Ginny correctly.

"Pigwidgeon," Ginny replied, narrowing her eyes. "Why?"

Draco snorted. "Trust Weasley to name his owl something absurd like that." He peered more closely at the miniature bird. "If you can even call that an owl."

Ginny fed Pig another treat, cuddling him affectionately against her chest. "For your information, Malfoy, I named him, and yes, he is an owl," she snapped defensively.

"Oh," Draco replied, clearly struggling not to laugh. Ginny glowered at him as she set Pig back on his perch.

"He was a gift from Sirius Black, you know," she continued irritably.

"Really?" Draco asked, just a tiny bit impressed.

Ginny nodded, an odd expression on her face.

"What?" Draco asked.

"I was just thinking... if this is going to work, we still have a lot to learn about each other," Ginny said slowly.

"Like what?" Draco asked, tone flippant.

Ginny's mien was serious. "Like the fact that I don't want to hear you insulting my brother. Or his friends. That includes Harry."

"Potter?" Draco demanded, clearly angered by her request. "Why the hell do you care about Potter?"

"Because I just do, Draco!" Ginny cried. "He's practically a part of my family-" She winced, realizing that she was being hypocritical; twenty minutes ago she'd told Ron she didn't want Harry as a part of their family. She took a deep breath, letting out all of her words in one hurried rush. "Look, it shouldn't matter to you, anyway. I chose you over Harry, what more do you want from me?"

Draco considered this for a moment, noting that Ginny was trembling with emotion; she was wound rather tightly. "Fine," he conceded. "I won't say anything else."

Ginny's eyes lit, and to Draco's surprise, she threw her arms around him. "Thank you." He staggered under the impact of her sudden weight against him, and it took him a moment to recover his equilibrium. Ginny was so frenetic and impulsive, very different from the Slytherin girls he knew.

As she wrapped her arms around his neck and sought his lips with her own, Draco realized just how much he appreciated the pleasant change of pace that Ginny Weasley could be.

***

While Draco was enjoying Ginny's kisses, Harry was wandering aimlessly in the corridors, reflecting on moments he had shared with the youngest Weasley. Realizing that he was nearing the library, he decided to go inside- one of the study rooms at the back would be the ideal spot for a nice, long sulk.

Harry pushed the door open, reveling in the respite of the dark solitude before he muttered, "Lumos."

A girl shrieked, sitting bolt upright in her chair. On seeing who she was, Harry leapt back a pace. "Ginny, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to follow you...."

The girl lit her own wand, and Harry saw the light reflect off her bright blue eyes. It wasn't Ginny at all- it was Georgine Belleton. "I'm not Ginny," she replied, wryly tapping the Slytherin badge on the cloak she had tossed over herself as a makeshift blanket. "Though you do seem to run into me when you're trying to escape her, hmm?"

Harry squinted. Georgine looked more like Ginny today than usual: she hadn't worn makeup, and her hair was hanging long and straight down her back. Apparently the curls weren't natural. "I'm really sorry," he repeated lamely. "I'll let you return to your, er, nap?"

"It's alright." Georgine peered back at him. "Want to sit? I haven't talked to you in quite a while." Her gaze was shrewd, and Harry felt painfully transparent. Not to mention guilty about the way he'd treated her the last time they'd spoken.

"Alright," he said hesitantly. Georgine swung her feet off the nearest chair, and Harry sat.

"So, what did she do to you this time?" Georgine asked conversationally, a teasing lilt to her tone.

Harry raked his hands through his hair. It was uncanny, talking about Ginny to someone who looked so much like her. He met her eyes, which helped- the frosty azure blue was nothing like Ginny's warm sable color. "She-" he faltered for a moment, then collected himself. "She's dating Malfoy."

Georgine raised an eyebrow. "So? I thought you were expecting that."

"Well, yes," Harry said, wincing, "but it's not the same as seeing it...." He squirmed for a moment. "Let's talk about something else. Please?"

Georgine shrugged. "Certainly. What do you want to talk about?"

Harry's brow furrowed. "Er, I don't know. How has your term been so far?"

"Fine," Georgine replied, quirking an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Oh, I just wondered how you were faring over in Slytherin," Harry said idly. "I've seen you with Pansy Parkinson a few times." From Harry's tone, his opinion of Pansy was quite clear.

Georgine forced an expression of chagrin. "Oh, you know, I don't really care for her." She dropped her voice, as if afraid someone might overhear her. "But she seems to like me, and she protects me from the other Slytherins." A shaky, nervous giggle. "You must think I'm such a coward."

"Not at all!" Harry protested. "I think you're doing very well, considering."

Georgine propped her elbows on her knees, the expression in her eyes a hopeful one. "Harry- I know we don't know each other very well, but I- I'd really appreciate your friendship."

Harry beamed at Georgine. He knew intellectually that she wasn't Ginny, but having a girl who so looked like Ginny gazing at him with such an earnest expression on her face- it was wonderful. Without really thinking about what he was doing, he leaned forward and kissed her.

Georgine was sorely tempted to lean comfortably into the kiss. Harry was good-looking enough, and it had been eons since she'd been properly kissed- most of the boys at Hogwarts had a lot to learn. But she needed to have Harry utterly convinced of her sweetly innocent persona, and falling all over him in the library was not the way to do that.

Reluctantly, she pushed him away. "Harry," she murmured demurely, staring at her hands, which were clasped in her lap, "it's not that I don't like you, but I don't think you're ready yet." She sniffled pathetically. "Especially not with a girl who looks the way I do."

Harry was instantly apologetic. "Georgine, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me!" he exclaimed. "I promise, I'll never do it again-"

"Don't say that," she replied, smiling shyly and meeting his eyes. "I didn't mind- I just think we should wait."

A smile glimmered in Harry's eyes, but it quickly dissolved. "I'll bet Ginny and Malfoy aren't waiting," he said miserably.

And after that, nothing Georgine said could pull him out of his bad mood.

***

Much to Draco's chagrin, however, Harry could not have been more incorrect. Things had been going beautifully one moment, and then suddenly, Ginny was three feet away from him and glaring angrily.

Draco crossed his arms over his chest and glared back. "Now what, Weasley?" he demanded, his irritation clear in his tone.

"Too quickly, Malfoy," Ginny snapped, yanking the edge of her shirt down over the edge of her skirt, then primly patting it into place. "You're moving way too quickly."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "You didn't object yesterday," he said, expression half smug, half annoyed. "And if you've changed your mind, you could have just said something, instead of shoving me partway across the room."

"It's my clothes," Ginny replied simply, offering no further explanation.

"What?"

"My clothes," Ginny repeated with a sigh, lowering her eyes so he couldn't see her embarrassment. "Mum put a charm in them, so that if they're touched too much by a boy...."

Draco snorted in a strange hybrid of derision and laughter. Then his expression sobered into puzzlement. "But yesterday-"

"The dress was Bronwen's." Ginny hadn't wanted him to know that she had nothing appropriate to wear on a date with him. Draco knew she was poor, but Ginny had a feeling he didn't really have any concept of just how poor she was. Who was she fooling, thinking he'd want to be with her, when he could have a pretty Slytherin like Blaise or Pansy, who could match him Galleon for Galleon? She braced herself for the mocking words of repudiation.

"Oh," Draco said mildly, shrugging. "Well, I suppose we ought to continue checking rooms, anyway," he continued, forcing the words out as if they pained him. It was apparent he'd much rather stay in the Owlery and kiss Ginny, but if her attire wasn't going to cooperate, there was little point to it.

Ginny stared at him in amazement. "What?" Draco asked.

A tiny, infuriating smile played around the corners of Ginny's mouth. "Oh, nothing," she said airily. "You just continue to surprise me, that's all." She took his hand again- hers was small, warm, a bit slippery.

Draco decided to ignore her cryptic response. "The Great Hall corridor next?"

Ginny nodded agreeably, and the two of them walked the halls in companionable silence. That in itself was a surprise to Draco- companionable silence was generally something that took years to cultivate. He'd never really achieved it with anyone except his parents, and Crabbe and Goyle. Admittedly, though, the latter was less a companionship and more a dull-witted lack of speaking.

Draco was startled out of his thoughts by Ginny's abrupt shiver, which reverberated down her arm, causing her hand to tremble in his. "What is it? Are you cold?"

"No- Draco, did you hear that sound?"

Absorbed in his thoughts, he'd heard nothing. "What sound?"

"Shh. Listen."

Straining, Draco could just barely make out a low sobbing sound. "It's just Moaning Myrtle, Ginny," he said dismissively. "Her toilet is right over there."

Ginny moved closer to the bathroom door. "She sounds more upset than usual. I think we should help her."

Draco suppressed both a groan and a complaint about altruistic Gryffindors; he didn't think his new girlfriend would appreciate either one. "Fine," he muttered, letting some of his irritation seep into that single word. Ginny cast him an amused look as she opened the door.

Draco heard Ginny gasp, but he couldn't see much, since she was in front of him. Instinctively, he put his hands on her shoulders, simultaneously pulling her to him and peering around her head. His eyes widened at what he saw, and he sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh-" he started to say, before Ginny tumbled backward against him. A bright light flashed, and then everything went dark.

***

"Ginny-" A hand was shaking her shoulder. Ginny blinked, and her bleary eyes finally focused on the face floating above her: Cho. And behind her, Jaron.

"Cho- what happened?" Ginny tried to sit up, and instantly regretted the move; blood rushed to her head, and she winced in pain. "Ow," she murmured, putting a hand to her temple.

"Well," Cho began, "you and Draco were-"

"Draco!" Ginny exclaimed, bolting upright again in spite of the pain. "Where is he? Is he alright?"

"I'm fine," croaked a tired voice from nearby. Draco was seated on the floor, his head leaning back against the wall. He gave her a wry smile, and Ginny weakly returned it.

"Do either of you remember anything?" If Cho had noted the intimacy in Ginny and Draco's shared glance, she shrewdly chose to ignore it.

"Well, we were checking the corridor, and I heard sounds from the bathroom. We went in to check, and we saw- we saw-" Ginny faltered. "I can't remember!" She turned distraught eyes on Draco. "Can you?"

He shook his head wearily. "I remember putting my hands on your shoulders, and then- nothing."

"Miss Chang, Mr. Stebbins! This is outrageous! These two should be in the Hospital Wing, not undergoing an interrogation!"

Ginny had never actually seen the ultra-confident, supremely organized Cho look chagrined before. "We're sorry, Madam Pomfrey," she said as the Mediwitch bustled up, her arms full of supplies. "I- we were waiting for Professor Dumbledore to arrive." She frowned. "He always does, when the Danger Alarm goes off."

Danger Alarm? Ginny made note of that information. She hadn't known anything of the sort even existed.

Madam Pomfrey mirrored Cho's thoughtful frown, speaking while she bent to attend to Ginny and Draco. "He hasn't yet arrived?" she asked. "But...."

"I got here first," Cho affirmed. "I was here for about ten minutes, then Jaron arrived. They just came to- I thought that I could maybe find out what had happened before the Headmaster appeared-"

"The Headmaster is in London," Professor McGonagall said crisply, causing everyone to look up in startlement. Ginny hadn't even heard the professor coming. "Feel free to take these two to the Hospital Wing, Poppy. I'll get the rest of the information from Cho and Jaron."

Madam Pomfrey helped Ginny to her feet; Draco declined assistance, wobbling to a standing position on his own. "I'd rather go back to the Slytherin dungeons," he started to say.

"I don't care what you'd rather, Mr. Malfoy, you and Miss Weasley will be spending the night in the Hospital Wing. Now, march."

Ginny cast a reluctant look back at Cho, Jaron, and McGonagall. Something was bothering her about what had just been said, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Then she shrugged, leaning on Draco for mutual support. Either it will come to me tomorrow, or it just isn't that important, she finally decided, following Madam Pomfrey down the hall.

***

Miraculously, the Hogwarts rumor mill didn't get ahold of the story of Draco and Ginny's presumed attack until Thursday afternoon; by then, Professor McGonagall had decided it was identical to the attack on Ron earlier in the year. Neither Draco nor Ginny were able to discuss the incident, so gossip queens like Lisa Turpin, Parvati Patil and Sally-Anne Perks were left sorely disappointed.

"I told you, Bronwen, I don't remember anything," Ginny said to her friend that evening before dinner. "I really don't." She sought frantically for a topic that would distract her friend. "And neither does Draco," she added.

Bronwen latched onto the subject of Draco eagerly, as Ginny had surmised she would. "How is everything with him?"

"Fine, I think," Ginny replied with a shrug. "You've probably seen more of him this week than I have. We decided it would be better if we weren't seen together very often, so we've mostly been owling each other with notes." She hated having to keep things a secret, but the last thing she wanted was more gossip with her name attached.

"Notes?" Bronwen demanded. "That's pathetic, Ginny."

Ginny shot Bronwen a glare. "When you're in a situation like mine, you may comment all you want," she snapped. "Until then, shut it."

"Fine, honestly," Bronwen muttered. Her eyes shone evilly. "So, back to Sunday night- do you think it was You-Know-Who-?"

Ginny rose from the bench, an exasperated expression on her face. "I'm going to my meeting with McGonagall now," she said, giving Fiona, who was just arriving, a curt wave.

"What's the matter with her?" Fiona asked, raising an eyebrow at Bronwen.

Bronwen winked. "She's in love with a Slytherin."

Fiona made a choking noise as she dropped her books on the table. "Poor dear."

***

Ginny tapped on the door to Professor McGonagall's office before entering. "You wanted to speak with me, Professor?"

McGonagall nodded, gesturing at the chairs in front of her desk. "Yes. Have a seat." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "You are free right now, correct?"

"Until Quidditch practice at five."

A smile tugged at the corners of the professor's thin mouth. "Well, I'd hate to keep you from that, what with the big match against Slytherin on Saturday."

"We'll beat them, Professor," Ginny said confidently.

"I'm sure you will." Minerva McGonagall straightened a stack of papers on her desk. "Quidditch, however, is not why I called you in here."

"Oh?" Ginny asked.

"I've made arrangements for us to go to London after the Christmas holiday. Normally I wouldn't take you to register your animal so early, but by Christmas you should be able to hold the form long enough for registration. Besides, Professor Gillund tells me you need to do some research at the Library of Magick, and I thought we could cast two spells with one wand."

Ginny nodded. "That would be perfect." She chewed her lip nervously. "How long will I have to hold my form?" In recent lessons, she had managed to make her whole body scaly, and she could accomplish the slitted eyes and the forked tongue; however, she had yet to master the much smaller size.

"Long enough for them to make note of your distinct markings and coloring. Don't worry, Miss Weasley, you'll do very well." The professor hesitated for a moment, and it seemed as if there was something else she wanted to say. Then she shook her head. "Enjoy Quidditch practice," she said finally, in a clear signal of dismissal.

Ginny nodded, gathering her things and slipping out the door, closing it firmly behind her.

"About time I found you," a voice murmured in her ear as arms slid around her waist. Ginny smiled, turning to face Draco.

"Well hello," she purred. "Haven't seen you in awhile."

"I know," Draco complained, pulling her into a short side corridor so they wouldn't be caught right outside McGonagall's office. "I had hoped to remedy that."

Ginny sighed softly, resting her head against his chest. "It's good to see you. I've had an awful week." It was true. Harry sent her hateful looks at every opportunity, Hermione studiously ignored her, and Ron had spent the entire week in a moody funk. Charlie was still suffering from the dragon pox, Cho was still worrying about him, and Ginny had gotten to see very little of Draco. Or, for that matter, Fiona, Bronwen, and Laurana. She had been lonely.

Draco squirmed uncomfortably, startled by her frank words. He'd hoped to pick up where they'd left off in the Owlery- maybe her mother hadn't charmed her uniform. Instead, Ginny seemed to want... comforting? Draco didn't comfort people. He didn't have the faintest idea how. He coughed.

"Well, perhaps I can remedy that as well," he said, pitching his voice as a low growl. To his pleased surprise, Ginny looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement rather than tears.

"Really." She made it a dubious statement rather than a question, but there was an element of sarcastic teasing in her tone.

"Yes." Draco started to tilt Ginny's face up to his.

"Draco! Draco!"

A young Slytherin Ginny didn't recognize skidded to a halt next to them. "Draco," he panted, "Professor Snape sent me to search for you- there's news, something about your mum."

All the color drained out of Draco's face. "What about my mother?" he demanded.

The boy just shrugged. "I don't know- Snape's in his office, he said you should come right away."

Draco pulled away from Ginny. "I'll find you later," he said shortly, before breaking into a controlled sprint, heading down the hallway and toward the dungeons.

Ginny stared after him, trying to stifle her feelings of resentment. She was genuinely worried about Mrs. Malfoy, for Draco's sake. But she couldn't help feeling lonely again. Picking her bag up from the floor with a self-indulgent sigh of pity, she headed for the Quidditch pitch.

***

Typical of November, Saturday dawned chill, clear, and bright- perfect for Quidditch. In accordance with her recent low spirits, Ginny woke feeling tired and apprehensive. This was in spite of the fact that she'd spent all of Friday afternoon hiding in the library with Draco, which had been wonderful; he had been in an excellent mood, since the news about his mother had turned out to be a false alarm. Her condition had worsened for a while on Thursday, but by Friday morning, her fever had dropped, and she'd been able to sit up in bed and drink lukewarm liquids.

From the little Draco had been willing to say about his mother's illness, it sounded as though she'd been fluctuating like that for the better part of a year, similar to Katie Bell. The Gryffindor Quidditch captain had finally been able to resume practices, but Ginny knew the team hadn't been out on the pitch nearly as often as Katie would've liked; she just didn't have the stamina for it.

Nevertheless, Ginny was confident they could beat Slytherin. She wasn't thrilled about taking the field against both Draco and Bronwen, but she still felt that the Gryffindor team was superior- and though she'd never admit it to Draco, she thought Harry was the better Seeker, too.

The Gryffindor team's only problem stemmed from the personal feelings of the teammates. "Good morning," Ginny said cheerily to her fellow players, forcing a happy smile that was somewhat insincere. Harry glared at her, Ron glared at Harry, and Dean and Colin shared a significant glance. Katie, noting all of it, cleared her throat.

"Alright, all of you, this is ridiculous. Frankly, I don't care if you hate each other." She grimaced. "But if this spat some of you seem to be having affects your playing and your teamwork, I swear I'll hunt you down and make you clear things up. Understand?"

Colin, Dean, and Mimi nodded readily enough; the three of them had no issues with anyone else. Ginny shrugged, Ron pushed his eggs around his plate, and Harry glared sullenly at his juice goblet.

"I'll take that as a yes," Katie said, sighing. "As soon as the post arrives, we're leaving for the locker room. I have a few more things I'd like to say privately."

No sooner had Katie mentioned the mail than a hundred owls swooped in through the highest windows, all of them laden with letters and packages. Ginny watched enviously as a fleet of birds winged toward the Slytherin table; even on normal Saturdays, the Slytherins always received the most mail, but on game days the Quidditch team was positively bombarded with good luck gifts from home. She was certain Draco would be getting a parcel, though she didn't see Argentus among the flock.

"Hoot, hoot," an owl called softly. Ginny turned, surprised.

"Argentus!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" Without thinking, she handed the owl a bit of toast, and he nudged her hand appreciatively. "Why aren't you with your master?"

The owl thrust out his leg, and Ginny could see two tiny packages tied to it. The larger of the two had a silvery tag that read "Draco;" the smaller one said "Ginny." "For me?" she asked rhetorically, untying the small box. As soon as she'd taken it, Argentus swooped over to the Slytherin table, perching on the back of Draco's chair. Frowning, Ginny examined the tiny package, well aware that most of her housemates were watching her curiously. Even the more oblivious Gryffindors recognized Draco Malfoy's eagle owl, and they were all dying to know what Argentus had delivered to Ginny.

Well, she wasn't about to satisfy their curiosity. Besides, the tiny box was a puzzle; it had no visible way of opening. She'd have to ask Draco about it after the game- for the meantime, it could sit in her pocket.

Because as much as she, too, wanted to know what Argentus had brought, Ginny had something else on her mind, something that had been eating at her almost as much as the reasons behind Sunday night's attack. Pretending to leave the Great Hall with the team, Ginny doubled back for a moment, catching up to Hermione.

"Hermione!" she called as the older girl started to mount the stairs.

Hermione turned, a smile of greeting on her face, but when she saw that it was Ginny who had called after her, her smile faded. "What is it?" she asked, grimly polite.

"I don't have much time, because I'm supposed to be in the locker room with the team, but I just wanted to apologize to you. What I said about you and Harry- it was terrible, and I know it wasn't true." Ginny took a deep breath. "And I'm going to tell Ron that. After the game." She looked down at her shoes. "I'm really sorry."

Hermione nodded solemnly. "I accept your apology, Ginny. But the truth is- with Ron, you needn't bother." Her hazel eyes were sad. "For whatever reason, he doesn't trust me. I should have learned that when Malfoy- well, I should have learned it awhile ago, and I didn't." She shrugged. "But maybe if you talk to him, he can fix things with Harry."

"Hermione-"

The other girl waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, Ginny. Good luck with the game." She turned and went up the stairs.

Ginny scowled to herself as she headed down the corridor to the front hall. On the one hand, she'd assuaged her conscience; on the other, the damage she'd done remained. She'd have to mull it over later, when she had the time. Meanwhile, there was a Quidditch game to be won.

***

And win they did. It wasn't an overwhelming win, like the one against Ravenclaw- Slytherin fought them tooth and nail for every point. But as Ginny had expected, Harry beat Draco to the Snitch, much to the delight of everyone but the Slytherins.

For Ginny herself, the game had been run-of-the-mill; she made her fair share of saves, but she also let several shots quite literally slip through her fingers. The celebratory mood of her teammates just wasn't contagious, particularly when Ginny knew how disappointed Bronwen and Draco must be, so she decided to go back to the castle by herself, instead of enjoying the party-like ruckus out on the pitch.

"Ginny! Gin, wait!"

Ginny turned to see her best friend jogging behind her, the crisp November air turning Fiona's exhalations into puffs of mist. "Congratulations," the Ravenclaw panted, clutching at a stitch in her side. "It was well played."

"It was alright," Ginny conceded with a shrug. "I was going to see if I could get a mug of cocoa and a few pastries. Want to join me?"

Fiona nodded eagerly. "More than anything."

Leaving the kitchen with hands full of treats, the two girls looked at each other. "Where to?" Ginny asked.

"Great Hall?" Fiona suggested.

Nodding her assent, Ginny used her hip to swing the kitchen's portrait painting closed. The girls were halfway down the hall when they heard adult voices floating down the corridor. By mutual assent born of an old friendship, the two shared a quick glance, then ducked behind a tapestry that was draped between two suits of armor. Adult voices meant teachers, and it was rather likely that teachers' topic of conversation would be the recent attacks, dragon pox, and the connection to Voldemort- all subjects that Fiona and Ginny were very interested in.

"Severus," cooed a feminine voice that Ginny recognized as belonging to Professor Gillund, "you know full well that there are a number of people who have... missed your presence these past seventeen years." Her voice dropped, so that Ginny had to strain to hear her. "People like... me."

There was silence for a moment, and Ginny noticed that Fiona was peering out of a fortuitous eye-level moth hole in the tapestry; she wondered what her friend was seeing. Finally, Professor Snape replied, "I can't," and his voice sounded oddly strangled.

Professor Gillund spoke again. "I know you feel the ache, Severus," she said in that satiny voice, which was nothing like her brisk classroom tones.

"I'll turn you in, Serena," Snape said, still sounding choked. Ginny wished desperately that she could see, because whatever was happening in the corridor had caused Fiona to clap her hand over her mouth in surprise.

"No, that's the beauty of it, love. You won't." A tinkling laugh, and then the voices floated away down the hall.

Fiona and Ginny waited an eternity before they finally emerged from behind the dusty tapestry, eyes wide. "What did you see?" Ginny immediately demanded.

The expression on Fiona's face was one of horror. "Ginny- Professor Snape- he's a Death Eater. She pulled up his sleeve, and I saw the Mark."

"Was," Ginny clarified dismissively. "He was a Death Eater." At Fiona's shocked look, she added, "I'll explain later. What else did you see?"

"Not much else," Fiona admitted. "Professor Gillund just pulled up his sleeve and caressed his arm. And he- Gin, I think he's in love with her. I think that's why he hasn't 'turned her in,' whatever he meant by that."

Ginny's brow was creased into a frown. For the moment, she forced herself to ignore the ludicrous notion that Snape could possibly be in love with anyone. "She must be a Death Eater herself. Why else would she have said that thing about people like her missing him? She must have meant missing him among the Death Eaters."

Fiona shivered. "Ginny?" she asked cautiously. "Do you think it could be Professor Gillund? Do you think she's the one who attacked you, Ron, Charlie, and Draco?"

"I just don't know," Ginny sighed. "For that matter, I can't figure out any kind of pattern to the attacks. Why me and my brothers? Why Draco?" Her frown deepened. "Because even if Ron and I were coincidences, the attack on Charlie was deliberate. Someone deliberately sought him out. But why?"

Fiona shook her head. "I don't know," she replied. "I can't imagine anyone wanting to deliberately hurt Charlie. Everybody likes him."

"Unless it has something to do with that project he's working on for Dumbledore," Ginny mused, chewing on her bottom lip. "Although why-"

"Because of the dragon pox!" Fiona interrupted. She leaned toward her friend excitedly. "Think about it. What's the project Charlie's working on? A dragon pox cure- so maybe someone wants it stopped. The someone who started the pox in the first place." Her voice dropped. "You-Know-Who?"

Ginny nodded thoughtfully. "That would make sense. So, do you think the fact that Ron and I were attacked was pure accident, or do you think we were sought out, as Charlie's siblings?"

"I'm not sure." Fiona looked pensive. "I'm inclined to say that both of you were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the fact that you're related to Charlie is just happenstance. It makes more sense, don't you think?"

Ginny shrugged- Fiona was better at puzzling things out than she was. "I suppose."

Fiona ignored Ginny's lackluster response; she was completely absorbed in her thoughts. "So, let's say it's You-Know-Who that's spreading the dragon pox, for whatever reason." She frowned. "That is what Dumbledore told you, right?"

Ginny nodded again. "What he implied, at least. It seems hard to believe, after everything that happened last year, but I don't know what else to think."

"I agree," Fiona said. "Alright, so it's You-Know-Who. Why dragon pox?"

"Well, he could be continuing the natural plague of it that happened last year," Ginny began.

"Gin-" Fiona interrupted. "What if it wasn't natural, last year?"

Ginny chewed her lip. "But why? What could he gain from that?"

"Well, who do we know that has it?" Fiona's eyes were bright with excitement, and Ginny could tell from the way her friend was fidgeting that Fiona had an idea.

"Er, Charlie," Ginny said. "Ron may have a mild case, Madam Pomfrey isn't sure. Draco and I weren't hit, for whatever reason." She closed her eyes, thinking. "Katie Bell definitely has it. And Draco's mum. Someone named Sprigg who works with my dad at the Ministry. A Gryffindor second-year, Siobahn Flaherty. Some Hufflepuffs...."

"And some Ravenclaws," Fiona added. "But no Slytherins." She sighed. "I hate to stereotype, but-"

"But it's suspicious," Ginny finished. "I agree." A pause. "Wait- Draco's mum...."

"Do you know for a fact that she was a Slytherin?"

"No," Ginny said reluctantly. "I had just assumed." She shook her head. "It still doesn't make sense to me."

"What would they all have in common?" Fiona wondered aloud. "Ignore their Houses for a moment. What do we know about them, personally?" She pulled a small notebook and a pencil from her skirt pocket. "I'll take notes."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. Fiona was certainly intense about this, all of a sudden. "Alright," she said hesitantly. "Well, let's skip me, my brothers, and Draco for the moment. Katie Bell." She frowned, wracking her brain for information. "Uh, she's Quidditch captain, was supposed to finish last year but couldn't take her N.E.W.T. classes because of the pox. She's dating Rory Montague, and she's friends with Angelina Johnson, Fred and George, Alicia Spinnet...." Mentioning Alicia made Ginny think of something else. "And for some reason, she hates Cho."

"Cho Chang?" Fiona echoed, incredulous, marking that down. "Odd."

"Yeah," Ginny replied absently. "Er, Draco's mother. I really don't know much else about her, not even her first name. So that's no help." Ginny's eyes lit. "That reminds me!" She fished the gift from Argentus out of her pocket. "I haven't seen Draco today, except at the game- can you figure this out?"

Fiona, looking a bit cross about the tangent, took the tiny silver box anyway. "A puzzle box?"

Ginny nodded. "I think it's from his mother."

Fiona was turning the box over, examining it closely. "Hmmm," she muttered. "Perhaps this-" She took out her wand, tapping the box with it. "Enlargo."

The box expanded to roughly the size of a cauldron. A thin seam was now visible about an inch from the top. "It should just pull off," Fiona said.

Ginny tugged off the lid of the box, peering eagerly inside. "Oh," she breathed. Someone had stuffed the box full of treats, some of them the familiar ones available at Honeyduke's, some of them more exotic. "Laichee Tart," Ginny read aloud, pulling out a miniature pie. "Bavarian Creams, Ichigo Mochi, Crème Caramel Swirls, Sugar Maple Leaves, Mango Fandangos. Hmmm, what's this?"

An envelope, again with Ginny's name on it, had been Spellotaped to a blue velvet box. "Read the note first," Fiona said.

Ginny mauled the creamy vellum, causing Fiona to wince. "'Dear Ginny,'" she read. "'Best wishes with the game today. Draco has told me so much about you, and I hope to meet you soon. Enjoy the treats and the small gift, ~Narcissa B. Malfoy.'"

"Well, that answers the question about her name," Fiona said quietly, though Ginny ignored her, tearing into the velvet box.

"Ooh," she murmured, staring in awe at the delicate silver necklace that was nestled against the rich velvet. "Do you think it's real silver?"

Fiona leaned forward for a closer look. "No," she said decisively, to Ginny's disappointment. She hesitated. "It's platinum."

Ginny's jaw dropped. "Platinum?" she whispered. "But that's-"

"Very, very expensive," Fiona confirmed, lifting the crescent moon-shaped pendant. "This must have cost a fortune." She chewed her lower lip, looking apprehensive. "Gin, I don't think you should wear it."

Ginny shot her a sharp look, pulling the necklace out of the box and slipping it around her neck. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "It's a beautiful gift from my boyfriend's mother. Of course I'm going to wear it."

"It just seems-"

"Fiona, no one ever gives me jewelry, especially not this nice," Ginny said, fingering the pendant. "What are you so worried about?"

"Never mind," Fiona sighed. "Let's keep working on this list instead." But she still seemed uncomfortable about Narcissa's gift.

Ginny shook her head. "I'll work on it with you later. Right now, I think I should go find Draco. He's probably upset about the match."

"Then do you really think he's going to want to see you? Besides, this list is more important, Ginny."

"I want to see Draco," Ginny said stubbornly. Fiona raised an eyebrow at the vehemence in her friend's tone.

"Alright," she conceded, looking askance at Ginny.

Ginny beamed at her friend. "We'll work on it later, I promise." Leaving her empty cocoa mug on a bench, she scurried off down the hall.

***

Narcissa Malfoy burrowed her head deeper into her downy, silk-encased pillow, trying to ignore the buzzing sound from the night table next to her. Her head pounded- the last week had been particularly bad. One moment, she was fine, the next, she had a high fever and could hardly bear to breathe. A day later, she would be fine again.

Today had been one of the bad days. It had started off well- she had risen early to send parcels to Hogwarts with Argentus, then she and Lucius had enjoyed a leisurely brunch together. But halfway through her eggs Benedict, Narcissa had started to feel woozy, and her ever-protective husband had packed her off to their bedroom with orders to stay in bed, rest, and drink tea.

She'd been annoyed at the time, but she'd fallen asleep quickly, and begrudgingly, she admitted that she'd needed the rest.

Which was why she was rather displeased to be awakened by that wretched buzzing. "Lucius?" she called, hoping he was nearby.

"Master Lucius is in his study, mistress," squeaked a voice from the door. Blinking bleary eyes, Narcissa realized one of the house elves had addressed her. Puffy, that was the elf's name. Dobby's replacement. Narcissa scowled, exacerbating her headache. She hated house elves; she wished Lucius would just get rid of all of them.

"Should Puffy fetch the master for you, mistress?"

"No," Narcissa said. "Just- what is that buzzing sound?"

Puffy moved closer to the bed. "Puffy thinks it is this, mistress," the elf said. Narcissa propped herself up on her elbow, wincing in pain, to see what the elf held.

A platinum pendant of a waxing, nearly-full moon, hanging from a finely wrought chain.

The necklace, Narcissa remembered, feeling irritable with herself. If it was buzzing- then Ginny Weasley had put hers on for the first time. "Thank you, you may go," she said to the elf, snatching the necklace away and fumbling with the clasp, trying to ignore the sharp pain that throbbed in her temples and at the bridge of her nose.

Narcissa Malfoy only rarely dabbled in the Dark Arts; though she came from a family whose proud history was steeped in the darker side of magic, Narcissa couldn't see much use for it. She wasn't an altruist like her cousin Sirius, but she wasn't a regular practitioner like her husband, either.

When the Dark path was more expedient, however, Narcissa was not averse to using it. Early in her marriage, she had explored the sprawling, dust-laden attic of Malfoy Manor, and the pair of necklaces was just one of the many treasures she'd discovered. Simple experimentation had revealed their use, but she hadn't had a purpose for them until now.

Despite her demands, wheedling, and probing questions, Narcissa was positive Lucius had been less than forthcoming on the topic of Ginny Weasley. When pressed, all he'd said was, "She's meant for Draco, Narcissa." He'd muttered something else about a family prophecy, but had refused to show it to his wife. Normally, that would have sent her off to prowl his study in search of it, but in her current state, she was hardly up to it.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, she'd decided as she sent the necklace off to Ginny. What she'd written in the note was a lie; Draco hadn't breathed a word about his new girlfriend to his mother. The little Narcissa knew was what she'd gleaned from Lucius, and that was simply not satisfactory. If I want to find out anything, I'm apparently going to have to see to it myself.

Slipping the necklace over her head, Narcissa leaned back against the bed's headboard, bracing herself for the dizziness that always accompanied the master necklace's initial spell. While the waning half of the moon pendant carried an enchantment that encouraged the bearer to wear it, the waxing half did something far more tricky and sinister...

It allowed its possessor to see through the eyes of the one wearing the crescent moon half; in this case, Ginny.

With a jolt of disorientation that wasn't dissimilar to Apparating, Narcissa could see, through her closed eyes, the hallway that led down to the Hogwarts library- she remembered it vividly from her school days. Narcissa wanted to look down at "herself," to get an idea of what Ginny looked like, but the drawback of the spell was that her gaze was linked to Ginny's; whatever Ginny decided to look at, that was what Narcissa saw.

A pretty dark-haired girl in Slytherin colors was coming down the corridor toward Ginny- Narcissa recognized her as one of Blaine and Brynne Zabini's girls. The girl nodded politely at Ginny, but didn't seem inclined to stop and talk.

"Wait, Blaise," Ginny called. Narcissa heard Ginny's voice as if it were her own, except that it echoed peculiarly. She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut against the pain of her headache.

Blaise turned. "Yes?"

"Did you happen to see Draco in there? I've been looking for him for the past twenty minutes."

Blaise's nose wrinkled thoughtfully. "Well, he is in the library, but I rather doubt he wants to see you."

"Why?" Ginny demanded. Narcissa detected a note of worry in her tone.

The expression on Blaise's face made it clear that she thought Ginny was a bit daft. "The Quidditch match?" she said. "I don't think he wants to see anyone who wears Gryffindor colors right now, not even you."

"But-" Ginny said.

Blaise just shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said, turning away.

Ginny stared after her for a moment, then pushed through the library doors. The light from the hallway caught the glass, and Ginny glimpsed her own reflection. At last, Narcissa thought, smirking slightly as Ginny paused in front of the reflection to arrange her hair and smooth out her clothes.

The girl was pretty enough, though not what Narcissa would have called classically beautiful. Her hair was a long, rich river of dark red (as Narcissa had expected, since she was a Weasley), and her eyes were dark and bright. She was a touch on the tall side, slender, and her skin was smooth and pale.

Narcissa could tell instantly what it was that had attracted Draco's attention about Ginny Weasley, though. As Ginny looked down to straighten her skirt, Narcissa noted how short it was; it was also hard to miss the heavy black leather boots the girl was wearing. Narcissa smiled. She's a touch rebellious. In spite of herself, Narcissa found herself liking the Weasley girl just a little bit. She should have known her son would choose a girl like this instead of a cutesy social climber like Pansy Parkinson or a beautiful but prudish snob like Blaise Zabini. Ginny Weasley had a spark of "sexy" that would suit Draco immensely.

Finished with her primping, Ginny wound through the aisles of books, occasionally stopping to greet someone or just wave hello. Finally, Narcissa spotted a familiar pair of designer dragon-leather shoes resting on an ottoman; Ginny must have recognized Draco's feet as well, because she rounded the corner, finding the rest of him slouched in an armchair, eyes fixed on his Herbology text.

Narcissa felt a rush of maternal pride at the sight of her son. He was so handsome, so impeccably dressed, with his prefect badge pinned to his robes- and he was doing his homework on a Saturday evening. What mother could ask for more?

Ginny pushed his feet off the ottoman, sitting so she was facing him. "Good evening, sexy. Want to have dinner with me? You could sit at the Gryffindor table, cause a stir."

To Narcissa's surprise, Draco didn't look up from his book. "I've got homework to do, Ginny. Go away." Narcissa frowned, irritated by Draco's rudeness. She thought she had raised her son to be polite. The Zabini girl was right- he was clearly not interested in spending time with any Gryffindors, even his girlfriend, after the afternoon's Quidditch loss.

"Draco," Ginny purred, resting a hand on his knee. "Don't be angry with me. I wasn't even on the same end of the field as you."

Narcissa tensed instinctively, knowing Ginny had chosen the wrong words. Draco's eyes lifted from his book, and they were steely with rage and bitterness. "I said I had homework to do, Weasley. What else do I have to say to get you to leave me alone?" His last words were an angry hiss.

Suppressing another flash of annoyance with her son's nastiness, Narcissa braced herself for the inevitable- Ginny would say something saccharine like, "Look, I'm sorry we aren't on the same House teams, but you can't be angry at me about something as silly as a Quidditch match." Then Draco would say something cruel and storm off, doing irreparable damage to his relationship. Narcissa knew this because Draco had her exact same temperament, and it was how she would have reacted to wheedling and cossetting.

To Narcissa's pleased surprise, though, Ginny didn't plead with Draco. Instead, she said, in a voice thickly edged with frost, "Thank you for making me regret my choice, Malfoy. I'll leave you to your homework, since you clearly prefer it to my company."

Narcissa couldn't help but smile- Lucius had manipulated her in much a similar fashion many times in the past. Draco would rise to Ginny's bait.

"Gin- wait."

Ginny turned sharply on her heel. She didn't speak, she just fixed her narrowed eyes on Draco, as if she were trying to pin him to his chair.

"What choice?"

"Between you and Harry," Ginny snapped. "I see now that it's certainly worth my time to endure the added hassle of dating a Slytherin, since you treat me so well."

Narcissa couldn't help but cheer for Ginny now- that was beautifully played, and she'd scored several shots on Draco's vulnerable points. Two bright spots of angry color appeared on Draco's cheeks, and he gestured at the ottoman.

"Sit," he said simply.

Ginny sat, and they stared at each other for a moment.

"I'm working on Herbology," Draco said finally.

"Oh."

"I have Care of Magical Creatures to do, too. I despise them both."

"Oh," Ginny said again, but this time she brought one of her hands to her mouth. Narcissa wondered if she was hiding a smile.

Apparently she was- "What's so funny?" Draco demanded.

"Mmm, nothing," Ginny replied evasively. Draco shot her a withering look.

"I was just thinking," Ginny said, "maybe you aren't good with your hands, and that's why you don't do well in those two classes."

"Or maybe it's because the teachers are incompetent," Draco muttered. Ginny slugged him. "Ouch, what was that for?"

"You know what for!" Ginny said, but there was a teasing lilt to her voice. "So, you think Professors Sprout and Weasley are incompetent, do you?"

Narcissa vaguely recalled that Draco had mentioned in a letter that "that stupid oaf, Hagrid," had been replaced by one of the older Weasley brothers. She smiled. Draco had probably deserved that slug on the arm.

There was a thoughtful expression on Draco's face. "Did you just say you think I'm not good with my hands?" he asked, irritation creeping into his tone.

"Maybe," Ginny teased.

Draco pretended to heave an exasperated sigh. "I would have thought, after yesterday afternoon, when you wisely borrowed clothes from Bronwen again-" Narcissa didn't have the faintest clue what significance that had, "-that you would know that's not the case." He raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Don't tell me I have to show you all over again?"

Ginny widened her eyes. "I'm a slow learner," she said in a simpering, innocent tone.

Draco leaned toward her, and Ginny closed her eyes.

Narcissa removed the necklace. She'd seen enough, and there were just some things about her son's life that she didn't want to know.

Seeing Ginny had reminded her of someone, though, and she wanted to ask Lucius about it. Narcissa decided she'd wait, springing it on him when he least expected it. Slipping the necklace in the drawer of her night stand, Narcissa took a sip of her sleeping draught, hoping it would clear her headache enough that she could fall back to sleep. As she drifted off, tucked under her warm, heavy comforter, Narcissa smirked triumphantly, thinking of how unpleasantly surprised Lucius would be when she confronted him about the similarities between Ginny Weasley and Lily Evans.

***