And now, Part 2 of

Of Ginny, Draco, and the Dress of Many Colors.

"This is where the cocktail party is being held?" Ginny raised her eyebrows.

She and Luna were standing in front of a squat, uninspiring-looking, three-story building painted black. It was attached to a larger building with a gaudy sign over the entrance that read Madame Mysteria's Exclusive Clothing Shoppe: Coming Soon!

"Oh, yes. I'm sure the door is here somewhere…" Luna peered at the peeling black paint on the brick wall.

"This just seems like such an odd location," said Ginny, sizing up the building. It was far from impressive. Actually, it reminded her of a Muggle parking garage where she and Ron had once got lost, and he'd vowed to never ride with her in a car again.

"It's neutral ground, don't you think?" asked Luna.

"That's a point," said Ginny. "Anywhere in the Ministry wouldn't have come across as very neutral. And I suppose that there weren't exactly any upperclass purebloods who offered their mansions."

"Actually, Blaise Zabini was very insistent that we should hold the party in the gazebo outside his ancestral home." Luna was pressing on various bricks now. "And he was far from the only one."

"I don't even want to think about what generations of Zabinis have got up to in that gazebo," muttered Ginny. "Just don't tell me that Draco Malfoy offered the outdoor poolhouse at Malfoy Manor where they used to torture house-elves who left a wrinkle in one of his dress robes during the ironing."

"No. He was one of the few who didn't make an offer," said Luna.

"I'm sure that Malfoy thinks he's above the need to curry favor with the Ministry," said Ginny. "Well, he's not. He should watch his step, if you ask me." She rather hoped that Luna wouldn't ask her exactly what she meant by that. Her friend had to know that Ginny and Draco Malfoy had been involved in a few run-ins lately connected to the Ministry issue.

She could handle the entire evening as long as she didn't run into Draco Malfoy. And it was true that he seemed to consider himself above any need to make himself agreeable to the postwar world. It was as if the Malfoy place in it must remain intact, regardless of how far everyone else from his class might have slipped from theirs. So she saw no reason why he should turn up at that cocktail party honoring Harry Potter's latest achievements. Although, when she thought about it, she couldn't quite put her finger on exactly what those impressive latest achievements were. But then, Harry was always accomplishing some tiresome heroic thing or other; that was what made him a hero.

A door swung open in the brick wall, breaking into her thoughts.

"This way," said Luna, crooking a finger.

Ginny stepped into a dimly lit corridor. "How on earth did everyone else find their way in?" she asked.

"They went through the front door," said Luna.

"Then why didn't we?" asked Ginny.

Luna didn't seem to hear her. She kept moving ahead briskly.

A door marked Ladies opened on one side of the corridor, revealing a plump, comfortable-looking, middle-aged woman with a blonde wig set slightly askew.

"Ginny! Ginny dearest," she said in a plummy sort of voice, enfolding Ginny in an overly perfumed hug.

"Uh… hello, Aunt Edna," said Ginny in a muffled voice, half-buried in Edna's rather moth-eaten furs.

Edna put Ginny back from her at arms' length. "You're looking so well, dear. How's your lovely mother? Good, very good, I really must drop by sometime. And I'm so glad to see that you're wearing the lovely dress."

"Do you mean that Luna showed you the dress first, Aunt Edna?" asked Ginny, surprised.

"No, I don't very well see how she could have done that—hello, Luna dear, by the way—seeing as how my gift is an original creation I happened to stitch up myself in a spare hour," said Edna, examining Ginny's dress. "I don't quite remember the style being so very revealing, Ginny dear."

"Um—" Ginny fumbled to make sense of it all.

"But I suppose that young people will alter modest clothing," Edna went on. "In my day, one wouldn't have been allowed to leave the house in that frock, but times change, don't they? Yes, yes they do."

One thing seemed clear enough; Edna had mistaken the dress that Ginny was actually wearing for the hideous concoction that Edna herself had given her. The only problem was that Ginny didn't understand how such a thing could possibly be happening. Even if Edna thought that Ginny had altered the style, the colors of Edna's dress were unlike anything that Ginny had ever seen before, or devoutly hoped that she would ever see again.

"It's a beautiful dress," said Ginny, trying to feel her way.

"Thank you, dear. I'm so proud of the color scheme," said Edna, preening. "The combination is unique, if I do say so myself."

It had been unique, all right. But surely it couldn't be the color of the dress she was wearing? Ginny sneaked a quick peek down at her bodice. It was periwinkle blue with black trim, just as she'd thought earlier.

"What would you call it, Luna dear?" asked Edna.

"Eggplant and mustard-puce," Luna replied.

"The very thing I was thinking," said Edna, sounding satisfied. "Eggplant and mustard puce. I ought to be getting back to the party." She gave Ginny a moist peck on the cheek. "Just between you and me, dear, the guest list seems a bit odd. Thankfully, the hosts have seen fit to provide an open bar."

Ginny was starting to get the feeling that she'd need one. "Er—yes—I'll see you later, Aunt Edna."

"What was that about?" she whispered to Luna when Edna had disappeared down the other end of the hall. "You know this dress isn't anything like eggplant and mustard puce!"

But Luna was moving ahead of her again, whisking around the corner. Ginny had to almost run to keep up with her.

Then her way was blocked. Ron had stepped out in front of her, and she noted with dread that his face had that dull red undertone she'd seen before all too often. What was going on?

"Hello, Ron," she said in a careful tone. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"Oh, you didn't, eh?" he asked.

"Well, no. I wasn't completely sure who'd been invited; I wasn't even sure how many people would be here besides Harry—"

"Oh, you weren't, were you?"

Ginny groaned inwardly. Whenever Ron had started to repeat every word she'd just said with an interrogative added to it, the situation had always been teetering on the point of disaster. What she couldn't understand was how or why that might be true in this particular situation. Perhaps he'd been talking to Harry about… well, about the real cause for their recent breakup. But in that case, her brother would be angry with Harry rather than with herself; she knew Ron too well to believe anything else.

"No, I wasn't sure," she said calmly. Maybe there was a way to defuse this thing before it got properly started. "And I've lost Luna. Why don't we just go and find her?"

She stepped out into a brighter patch of light. Ron's face was definitely turning more red every second, she saw now. Maybe it really was only the light, though. "What is it, Ron?" she sighed.

He stabbed a finger at her chest. "You knew enough to wear that dress! That's what it is!"

Her eyebrows drew together. "Ron,we're not having this argument again. I'll wear what I like. Yes, Muggle clothing tends to be a bit more revealing that you happen to like, but I get more than a bit tired of going about in wizarding robes big enough to hide a Nundu under, and this is a cocktail party. The dress is quite appropriate."

"Appropriate?" spluttered Ron.

"Fine. Why don't you tell me what's wrong with it then?"

"Are you joking, Gin? You know what's wrong with it!"

"No, I don't. I mean, okay, it's just a bit short, I'll admit, but—"

"That's not what I mean! It's—it's—" Ron stabbed a shaking finger at her. "Slytherin green! As you know perfectly well! It's the exact shade!"

"Are you mad?" Ginny mouth dropped open. "It's blue with black trim."

"Oh, no it's not! It's that horrid green, with darker green trim." Ron shook his head, looking a bit sick. "I didn't want to believe it when I heard, but that dress… that dress…"

"Didn't want to believe what?" Ginny demanded.

"That you… that he… that you and Malfoy…" Ron could not seem to go on.

"That we've been arguing over the Ministry plans?" she asked, deciding to take the bull by the horns. "Because that's quite true. We have been. I'm not about to let anybody interfere with my project, and that's exactly what he wants to do. I'd be more than happy if Draco Malfoy disappeared off the face of the earth just about now, and I should have thought you wouldn't get too fussed about that particular opinion."

"You're sure that's all it is?" asked Ron, sounding a little hopeful now.

"Of course it is!" Ginny glared at her brother.

"It's only that I heard you'd been seen having lunch with him last week," mumbled Ron.

Ginny felt a sudden rush of heat threaten to rise to her face. That statement wasn't entirely untrue. She and Malfoy had spent the entire lunch hour trading barbs, she'd only accepted his invitation in the first place because she'd wanted a chance to feel out the enemy and gain some sense of his ulterior motivations, which he certainly must have, but… but if anyone had seen them, it wouldn't have looked good. The funny thing was that they'd eaten at an elegant restaurant where she hadn't seen anyone she knew, and she hadn't told anyone about the lunch except for Luna.

TO BE CONTINUED…