Disclaimer-- I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters within. I just borrowed them for a little stroll... This is pretty much a standard What-happens-after-Voldemort-is-defeated fic, no slash, sorry. Please R&R!

A/N- This is just a little fic-let (fic-ita?) I was completely shocked at myself for writing something Harry Potter, but I decided to post it anyway. Enjoy!

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"A Weasley without red hair," Draco Malfoy drawled when Ginny opened the door, "is a Weasley gone wrong."

"Oh, hullo Malfoy. Suppose you've gone and gotten yourself in trouble again." She took in his ripped and muddied clothing.

Malfoy crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "Come in, then."

Malfoy entered with the grace of a displaced King and surveyed the flat with a sneer. "Muggles," he said, disgusted.

The youngest Weasley rolled her eyes and locked the door. "Want some tea, or something?"

"No!" he snapped, composure slipping. "I want to get clean and then remove myself from this stinkhole!" He swallowed and smoothed back his hair. His silk shirt was torn and splattered with mud, as were his pants and his usual fine coat was missing entirely. A large bruise colored the left side of his forehead and his lip was swollen and bleeding.

"What happened to you, anyhow?" Ginny asked, tucking her black hair behind an ear.

"Bunch of Death-eaters and a Dementor," he drawled, straightening his sleeves. "Nothing I couldn't handle. Which way's your washroom?"

The girl sighed and opened a drawer.

Malfoy leaned over the counter across from her. "Weasley," he said slowly, as though she were incredibly stupid and he didn't wish to confuse her, "Where is your washroom?"

Ginny shoved a bar of chocolate into his hand. "Here, eat this and then you can wash."

"Weasley, I–"

"Shut up and eat, Malfoy, you look like you're half dead and if you pass out in the shower, I'm not going in after you."

"I don't faint after seeing a Dementor, Weasley, I'm not Potter."

Ginny smiled winningly at him. "If you don't eat it, I won't show you the trick to turning the Muggle shower on. And good luck figuring that out on your own."

He sneered at her, but took a bite out of the chocolate. "Why'd you dye your hair black anyway?" he muttered. "Looks unnatural."

"You know very well why, Malfoy. London's Muggle population couldn't suddenly increase by seven red-headed siblings without the Death-eaters noticing. They'd be on the lookout for us. The undercover bit does work, despite what you think."

"I don't suppose your dear Potty's going to drop in soon," Malfoy said, glancing at the door.

"He doesn't live here, he and Ron are on the other side of London. Why, looking for a repeat of last summer?" She was pleased to see the arrogant git flinch at the memory.

After he turned on Voldemort in the final hour, Malfoy had reluctantly agreed to help the Order hunt down the remaining Death-eaters. Harry and Ron, not satisfied with Draco's supposed turn of loyalty, pounced on him and forced an entire vial of Veritaserum down his throat. After a six-hour confession of everything he had ever done, Harry and Ron let him go and gave their consent that he join the Order.

By the time Ginny had finished reminiscing, Malfoy had eaten the last of his chocolate bar and was staring morosely at her.

"Well?" he asked, a hint of temper in his voice.

Ginny grinned and straightened. Come on, I'll show you how it works."

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A/N- honestly, the only thing that bothers me about this fic is that I don't know how they refer to bathrooms in England. But 'washroom' sounded posh enough for a Malfoy. -g-

Allyp