"Well, well, well… Look who's here," said a silver-haired boy with a pale pointed face--- Draco Malfoy. Still with his usual sneer, malicious grin spread wide across his face, as though Christmas decided to come three months earlier. She hated that. She really did. "A Weasley."
Ginny tried to stare straight to those cold, gray eyes, mustering her courage--- and a lot of strength--- to gain her sense of control; she was afraid that if she didn't, she's probably gouge Malfoy's eyes out and do away with him (which wasn't bad at all despite the image of a bloody lifeless Draco). But then, her presence with even just a single Malfoy would be questionable--- let alone be on the front door of their formidable looking mansion.
Ironic it might be but after life at Hogwarts, she was finding things to be more and more difficult in Auror Studies every single day. Her brothers--- Bill, Charlie, Percy, the twins Fred and George--- were all working very hard, regularly sending money to her mother and father. But her brothers, nevertheless, were living outside their house in some apartment, boarding house or at their jokeshop… Even her older brother, Ron, who was taking Auror Studies one year level higher, wasn't in the house. He said he'd be on vacation with Harry and Hermione to God-knows-where. How she ended up in the Malfoy Mansion, she wasn't sure how. But it all started when she was ruffling through the pages of The Daily Prophet, disgusted at the rumors that You-Know-Who had a powerful heir. Accidentally, she ripped a page of Percy's article--- a tribute to the ex-Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge--- and saw it, for the first time. At the lower right hand corner of the "Classified Ads" section (adapted from the Muggle newspapers) was…
WANTED (15 galleons/ week!)
Who: a maid
Requirements: about 17- 26 years old
graduated from Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft &
Wizardry
must be pureblood
Where: apply at Vaurex Hill, London enter the only mansion that can be seen or is present
How: ask for the master of the house
Wow… I can apply for this! Ginny thought excitedly. For the past few months, her and Ron's Auror training were constantly competing for money. And, well, her family wasn't much of a beholder of money. She was too embarrassed to ask for more allowance--- especially when she'd been having rows with her mother about independence ("Ginny, dear, I don't think you're capable of looking after yourself in these--- these kind of things… " said Mrs. Weasley).
So, tomorrow that day, after another argument with her mother, she wrote the application form in sheer determination to prove herself. The reply said she would be expected at Sunday.
Which was why she's standing outside the double stone doors of the Malfoy Mansion, with the heavy rain pouring down and everything. Actually, she saw the silver letters of "Malfoy" at the gate (amidst flashes of lightning and the roar of thunder), but she didn't expected to see Draco Malfoy in there.
I mean, seriously, there are other Malfoys than Draco and his family. Aren't there? Ginny reasoned, as she proceeded on, opening the gate. Which was a total mistake.
How could she forget? Pureblood families were very limited among wizards. Of course there was only one Malfoy family in London.
"You???" Ginny almost shouted. Suddenly, she felt very self-conscious. She didn't know why. All that she noticed was that her flaming red hair (which was almost in level with her elbows) were drenched in rainwater and she was a total mess. Her black cloak was wet, her peach dress looked like it was never ironed, and her sandals feet were wet with mud.
"Me," Draco shot back in the same monotone he often used when talking to her.
An awkward silence followed, accompanied by rolls of thunder and lightning. Just when Ginny thought she ought to set off in the rain again (she still hadn't passed her Apparition exam, in which she failed two times already), Draco unexpectedly stepped aside the door to make way.
"C'mon in."
"Ginny froze, struck with mixed amazement and terror.
"Did you say something?" Ginny asked disbelievingly, thinking that she might be hallucinating.
"God, I hate it when I talk to stupid people! I said come in, Weasley," he answered, rolling his eyes. "I don't want your death in my conscience."
"Do you HAVE a conscience???"
Draco ignored her question.
"Are you going to come in or what?" he asked impatiently.
Ginny glanced at the gates and at the grounds. The rain was still pouring on like a giant never-ending shower and, if she wasn't mistaken, she could actually get lost… She thought of her family…
Ginny, you're not used to taking care of yourself…
Ginny, you can't! What if Malfoy's planning to gat revenge by killing you or something?! I don't think you can protect yourself… Especially against that worm.
Ginny, I don't understand. We're sending enough money, right? We'll work on our jokeshop and if you're okay, you can live with us. We can't let you off alone.
Ginny, you can't live without any family members with you! You just can't!
Ginny?
Ginny?!
Ginny!!!
" Alright already!" she stomped all the way inside.
"You don't have to yell…" Draco muttred, annoyed.
Up at the ceiling was a great chandelier, filled with glittering crystals and numerous candles. The stone walls were almost bare, if it weren't for the torches of silver snakes wit green eyes. Nearby, there were two soft upholstered chairs with back and arms facing each other, both the same color of darkness. The floor was carpeted with a rich green material all over, sparkling with some kind of silve dust.
"Nice place," Ginny said sarcastically.
Draco snorted.
"Whatever," he said, as he sat down at the nearest seat, his back facing Ginny.
Ginny walked towards the warmness of the fire eagerly, sitting at the other couch.
"Where's your father?" she thought aloud.
"Oh, him." Draco's tone was suddenly tinged with sour bitterness. It wasn't the same malicious tone Ginny was used to. It was… like rotten eggs or something. "He's not here. Don't worry. You're a pureblood, anyway."
"But that doesn't change the fact that you hate me. You must. I'm a Weasley."
"Well, I didn't mean that. My great, great grandfather hated mudbloods. So, he used an enchantment in this manor so that only purebloods can enter it."
"Well, I didn't think that obvious. So, where's your dad?"
"None of your business, Weasley."
For a while, the only sound that could be heard (except for the lashing rain on the windows at the far end of the living room and the occasional loud, rumbling sound of thunder) was the crackling of the fire. Ginny didn't know why she was actually staying. Normally, if she was asked what would she do in a situation like this, she'd probably say that she's better off soaked from head to foot and lost in the dark than be with Malfoy, a Slytherin. But she chose to stay…
A few more minutes passed… And a few more…
Ginny lost track of the time. She was glad that all was silent. Actuallay, she thought the first thing Draco would say, once she was inside, was that he'd tell her whole family her arrival in his mansion--- which would cause an uproar in the Weasley household. But, instead, Draco seemed to be lost in a stupor, staring at the fire at a trance-like state, as though he was petrified by something. But whatever it was, she didn't knew.
I mean, what would a rich, arrogant, pureblood maniac like Malfoy would want? Ginny thought, almost laughing. I mean, he's got everything! Well, almost. If he calls that cow, Parkinson, a girlfriend… he should be insane.
"You're cold, Weasley," Draco said in the same frozen tone. Then, as another unexpected action, he took off his velvet dark green cloak and threw it at her.
"Wha---" Ginny managed to speak out loud before the cloak hit her face. She removed it from covering her and tried to imitate Draco's cool tone. "No, thanks. I have my own."
Malfoy was wearing a turtleneck, jeans, and shoes all in black. He reached the clear glass windows and turned around to face Ginny, with a smug look on his face.
Why did I do that, anyway? he thought, angrily. Ungrateful, low-class, slow-witted girl!
Then Draco crossed his arms and said bossily, "You're trembling, Weasley. Or are too pathetic to notice that your cloak is wet?"
"I don't need your help!" she stormed at him.
True enough, she was shivering like a fallen leaf. Even the warmth of the burning fire I the grate, it seemed, was not enough to take the chill away.
"Suit yourself. I'll celebrate the day you die." Malfoy turned away and stared outside the window. Ginny didn't see what Draco was looking at All she could see was a blur of pouring rain in the darkness. It was as though night decided to come early. Or maybe it was night already. She wasn't sure.
Silence. Then…
"Don't you have any floo powder here?"
Draco didn't even bothered to look at her. Ginny was desperately looking, searching, for even just a little bit of floo powder near the fireplace.
"Nope. Since I disconnected our grate from the Floo Network, there's no point in buying some."
"Why did you do THAT?" Ginny muttered in a low voice, as she lowered her head to hide her face, which was slowly turning into the color of her hair.
"Mind your own business. Why don't you just Apparate?"
"I can't do that!" Ginny said hysterically. "I haven't passed my Apparition exam! What am I going to do???" She wrung her hands, as though expecting the answer to fall out.
Draco shrugged and walked away from the room, opening a secret passage from his right."
"Just don't bother me if you decide to get out of here." Draco paused, his hand at the stone door of the passage. "Oh, and about the maid thing--- since you're the only applicant who actually managed to get here--- you're accepted." He then proceeded on and the dark passageway closed.
Ginny sighed in resignation. What was she going to do? She can't Apparate: she could end up with separated body parts. She can't travel by floo powder: that dung Malfoy disconnected the grate. She can't fly: she haven't got any broomstick. And unless threstrals (heck, she can't even see them) where present outside the grounds, which she doubted wholeheartedly, she was surely stuck.
Geez… What luck! Am I jinxed or something? She sighed. Maybe this is just bad luck! I hope it ends soon.
She removed her own wet cloak and dumped it in the chair she was sitting in. Then, a lounge appeared out of thin air with a soft little pillow. She didn't even bothered to think where or from whom it came from. She was just so tired that she lay down, hugging the nice silver clothcase filled with soft cotton--- and slept.
A/N: So.... how was that? Good, bad, or horrible? Anyway, I'm in a computer shop right now and as my time is limited, I'll have to say bye-bye! Please R&R!
Reach for the stars!
Hazel Lyn