Chapter Three: Double Eight Loop

"Who's going to win the game tomorrow?" Parkinson asked after they'd placed their orders at the bistro they'd found.

"Australia," Ginny said automatically.

"Morocco," Draco said in the same instant.

"You're joking, right?" Ginny asked him. "Australia's been an unstoppable force."

"Morocco's more technically proficient," Draco argued. "Australia's all show."

"Yeah, they made it to the Cup on 'all show'," Ginny snorted. "They've got incredible chemistry."

"Sure – and that's how they score so many flukey goals, but a well-organised team should be able to cut through them like butter. I'm telling you, Estonia should've put them down like rabid Doxies."

"So it's going to be a good game, then," Neville broke in.

"It's going to be a great game," Ginny corrected with a grin.

The group kept to more or less neutral topics throughout the meal: Quidditch, Vienna and Parkinson's upcoming apprenticeship at a fashion house there, the food they were eating. Ginny was grateful for the lack of animosity at the table (she'd been careful to keep her opinions to herself as Parkinson extolled the virtues of the fashion industry) and she suspected that everyone else was as tired of the constant tension as she was. Then, as dessert was served, Pansy asked, "What are you doing in the autumn, Draco?"

"I've received my acceptance letter from Durmstrang."

"You're really going through with it?" Ginny murmured, flaking her baklava with her fork.

"You – you're serious?" Parkinson spluttered.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Draco snapped, the fragile peace of the table broken. "Go back to Hogwarts? It's out of the question. Even if they let me come back, everyone would know why I hadn't been there last year. It just makes sense. I heard that Vince and Millicent will be there too." It sounded like a speech he'd rehearsed to himself countless times, and the fact that he would find that necessary made Ginny's throat constrict. She knew that what he said was true, but the way he said it... He sounded so matter-of-fact, like it was a foregone conclusion that he didn't have a friend left in Britain. He glanced over at her then, his eyes beseeching her to understand, and suddenly she did. The letters they'd exchanged – they'd all been about her. Her classes, her family. He'd only ever said he was doing well and attending to business, but she'd seen him over New Year's, gasping and clinging to her in the throes of nightmares, reliving painful experiences he'd forgotten. It would have been foolish to think that those problems had simply evaporated, but the reality was worse than that. She hadn't thought at all, hadn't analysed his statements to see if they made sense. She'd simply smiled at the parchment and continued on her day as he felt alone in the world. And now he would be alone, a self-fulfilling prophesy. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to feel driven away from Hogwarts.

"Well, between the three of us we'll make moving to the Continent the latest trend, then," Parkinson said. "But I meant why go back to school at all? You don't need your NEWTs to survive."

"I need work," he said. "Something to occupy my days with. I've been studying law."

Parkinson looked impressed. "Really?"

"Really. I've partnered up with a solicitor to look over Father's case."

"And?"

Draco pushed his plate away and dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. "I don't want to speak too soon, so I'll just say we are exploring various avenues at present."

"You've got the lingo down, at least," Parkinson laughed. Ginny looked over at Neville, who had been conspicuously silent since the conversation had turned to Draco, and hoped that she didn't look half so disgruntled as he did at the prospect of Lucius Malfoy ever regaining his freedom. Ginny hated Malfoy Senior – she'd hate him for the rest of her life for introducing her to Tom – but she couldn't bring herself to condemn Draco for trying to regain the only family he had left.

The bistro was on a busy street, and people were beginning to congregate at the pubs when they decided to head back to the hotel to sleep. Ginny longed to join in the festivities, but Draco was right – they'd moved through time zones and tomorrow was going to come early. She spied the red and blue of Australia's uniforms everywhere. Maybe she'd use some of George's money to buy a jersey. He'd understand. On the short walk to the hotel, Draco approached Ginny when Parkinson dragged Neville over to a darkened storefront. "How are you feeling?" he murmured.

"Still fine," she said, trying not to get exasperated. One moment of dizziness and suddenly everyone thought she was made of porcelain! "I'm sorry."

Draco waved off her apology. "Happens to everyone at some point, I imagine."

"No, I mean about the last few months. I should've seen you. Owled more."

"I've got to get one of those scarves before we go," Parkinson announced as she skipped up with Neville in tow.

Draco tapped Ginny on the shoulder. "Let's go," he said with a small smile. Ginny felt an echoing grin spread across her face, even as she noticed Parkinson narrow her eyes at her.

Parkinson had been altogether too benign since they'd first arrived at the hotel. She'd ignored Ginny as they prepared for dinner and not addressed her directly at the meal. Ginny's luck ran out when they returned to their rooms and the first thing Parkinson did was fix her with a piercing glare. "What are you playing at?" she demanded.

"Quidditch," Ginny answered promptly. "The World Cup, that is."

"You know what I mean," Parkinson growled. "Let him alone."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm not trying to steal Neville from you," she promised, "so there's no sense getting angry every time he talks to me. We're just friends."

"Wow." Parkinson continued to glower at her. "I'm talking about Draco."

"What?"

"You're taking advantage of him."

Ginny snorted in disbelief. "How would I possibly take advantage of him? He's the one who invited me here. I didn't ask to come. We're friends. If anything," she mused, thinking back over the past year, "he's been the one taking advantage of me."

"...You're an idiot," Parkinson snapped, and she stomped off towards the bathroom.

"Good night!" Ginny sang out as the door slammed shut. It had been all too easy to reduce the other girl to simple insults. She threw on her pyjamas and strolled out onto their small balcony.

"Hullo, Ginny." Neville was on the adjoining balcony.

She waved and leaned on the banister that separated them. "It's lovely out here, isn't it? I can hear the ocean."

He nodded. "Is Pansy coming out?"

"She's locked in the bathroom right now. She's in fine form tonight. First she accused me of trying to steal you away, then she accused me of taking advantage of Draco's hospitality."

Neville frowned. "Out of everyone here, I'm the one most guilty of that. Maybe I shouldn't have come, but she was so insistent."

"Well, I'm glad you're here."

"Did you think she was bringing Zabini, too?"

"No, I thought Draco only had two tickets."

He suddenly looked uncomfortable. "You'd meant to be alone with him? If you'd wanted to room with him-"

"Oh, no!" she broke in with a laugh. "It's not like that. I just meant I hadn't thought about the particulars. I just wanted to see the game so badly. Now that I'm here, I'm glad you – and Pansy – are here. I'd probably end up killing Draco if it was just the two of us. It's good to have another friend around."

"Oh," he said, his brow smoothing perceptibly. "Are you feeling better now?"

Not this again. "Of course I am!" she cried. "It was a dizzy moment, not a seizure! I guess I just didn't expect the Portkey trip to last so long."

"But hadn't you taken one before? I remember Ron talking about your trip to Egypt."

"I was younger back then," Ginny snapped. Neville looked taken aback by her venom. "I guess my tolerance might have changed when I grew up," she added in a more civil tone of voice, trying to sound less like his girlfriend and more like a decent human being. "But I really think it was just a one-off thing."

"I hope so."

"We should probably get to bed," she said, reluctant to chance Parkinson's moods again.

"You're right. G'night."

Parkinson was still in the bathroom. Ginny flopped into her bed and pulled the covers over her head before that could change.