Disclaimer: Me no own!

Opening A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to get this one up, readers. (All five of you!) I got a bit distracted by Return of the King, I'm afraid, and I've found my LotR and Harry Potter obsessions really don't cohabitate very well (that's not going to stop me from writing a crossover though. Mwaha!). Also, my ruddy mac has been automatically and sporadically shutting down programs again, so I lost quite a bit of this chapter at various times. Grr! Here it is though, complete and reassembled. Thanks for your patience. This chapter is dedicated to my good friend Eryn, who said this fic was "bloody brilliant," and totally made my week. :-D

AuroraNoctifer: Thank you sooooo much for your comments – that really means a lot to me. I was a bit worried about the way I'd done a few things, but you've banished my fears. I am eternally grateful – I hope this chapter lives up.

Julkat007 and Lucius Magical Pimp Stick (nice name): I am definitely going to keep updating this one. Got the whole thing planned out in me 'ead, it would be silly of me to let it rest. Thanks for your comments!

Electryone: He's not really in "awe" of her beauty – just a little fascinated by her in general, as she is with him. I had to show some attraction there. ;-) Thanks for your comments!

Rune: Yeah, I'm a bad girl, but so are you….mwaha. Love your story, by the way. Update on Blanc et Noir soon, will you? That last chapter was a bit of a cliffhanger. I dunno what they did to Lucius…maybe they didn't allow him the latest copy of Playwizard and his weekly pedicure? ;-) No seriously, I was imagining grunge, chains, beatings, unforgiveables and the whole nine yards.

Um yes, reviews are always appreciated. tries not to beg

Chapter four: Tea and Sympathy

Ginny awoke to the sound of rain tapping gently on the windowpane. Though her unconscious mind had retained the knowledge of where she was and what she was doing there, she felt strangely disoriented. She rose groggily and peered at the clock on the bedside table; she was surprised to see that it was quite late, already nearing eleven o'clock.

"Cappy has brought Miss Weasley's breakfast," squeaked a voice at the foot of Ginny's bed, startling her considerably in her morning-induced brain fog. The elf put a tray laden with bacon, toast and eggs on her lap and then stood looking up at her curiously as she thanked him.

"Cappy has washed Miss Weasley's clothes," he informed her, "he has put them on the chair." Cappy indicated the large white easy chair by the window. Once again Ginny thanked him, but he remained standing at the foot of her bed, staring up at her.

"If Cappy may be so bold," squeaked the elf in a timid voice, "he has not seen so pretty a lady in a long time – not since Mistress left."

So is that what he was told? Thought Ginny. "Thank you Cappy," she said modestly. He smiled a toothless smile at her for a split second and then his face became serious again.

"Master has asked that Miss Weasley join him in the drawing room for coffee when Miss Weasley is dressed," he gave her a courtly bow, and then disappeared.

Ginny hoped she could find the drawing room on her own.

After she finished breakfast, dressed, and brushed her hair and teeth, Ginny set out to find the drawing room. Fortunately, she was met by Cappy on the way down and ushered through the expansive halls into a medium sized room decorated in green and black, with leather armchairs centered around a forest green Persian rug facing the large fireplace on the opposite wall.

Malfoy was seated in one of the black armchairs closest to the fire, staring into its brilliant orange depths.

Ginny felt a chill run through her to look at him seated there, cold, impassive; imperious. She felt fear of him once more, fear that had been banished after their conversation over dinner the night before. She approached slowly.

"Ahh, Miss Weasley," Malfoy greeted her, "I trust you slept well enough?"

"Yes, thank you, the bed was very comfortable," Ginny replied a little stiffly, settling into the chair across from him. Cappy poured her a cup of coffee and made himself scarce.

"I owled the ministry first thing this morning, Miss Weasley," Malfoy informed her, "but I don't expect a reply from them until this evening. They're not usually very prompt," he commented with a sneer.

Ginny had a sudden thought.

"Why didn't you floo me home last night, Mr. Malfoy?" She wondered why she hadn't thought of it before.

"For the very good reason that I'm not connected to the Floo Network," Malfoy replied, and then with a half sneer said, "Do you not think I would have done so last night if it had been an option?"

"Why aren't you connected?" Ginny asked curiously, choosing to ignore the incendiary tone of his question.

Malfoy sighed. "After I was released from Azkaban prison I had an endless stream of visitors to offer their 'condolences' for the loss of my wife and son – and to gawk at me and collect fodder for gossip about my sanity. One day I found my study vandalized and decided it had gone too far. I had myself disconnected immediately. Is that a good enough reason for you?"

"Yes, of course it is," Ginny replied with a scowl, feeling that he was in a rather rude and inflammatory mood that morning.

Malfoy scowled as well. "If I ever locate the bastard who invented the brilliant tradition of visiting a person when their loved ones have died, I will personally crucio him," he drawled irritably.

Ginny nodded serenely at his remark. "It was probably someone had never experienced the loss of a loved one," she offered. "When we lost Charlie we had all manner of witches and wizards coming in and out. I don't know how my mother felt, but I certainly didn't feel like entertaining."

"Charlie…he was your brother?" asked Malfoy.

"Yes, the second oldest of my family. We lost him in the war. It was a difficult time for all of us. Harry took me away for a day when I felt I couldn't stand it any longer – oh how I thought he was a hero for it at the time." Ginny's tone was bitter, causing Malfoy to cock a blond eyebrow.

"You don't sound very pleased with him now, Miss Weasley. Might I inquire why?"

It was not a request. Malfoy never requested – he ordered. She felt strange to be talking so personally with him, but why not? The rest of the wizarding world knew about it, why not Malfoy? He was bound to be more sympathetic than anyone else given his position, she reasoned.

Ginny cleared her throat. "I was supposed to marry him, Mr. Malfoy. We dated all through our last year of Hogwarts, and as most couples do, we made plans for a future together," Ginny was becoming unconsciously stiff in her manner, as she recalled the events so fresh in her heart.

"You know Harry, my brother Ron, and Ron's fiancé Hermione had to repeat their last year since they missed so much school during the war. I guess Harry was pretty confused after that," she sighed.

"This year instead of settling down as planned, he decided to take a job working for the New York branch of Gringott's. Ron too, but he'll be back over the Christmas holiday. I'd thought Harry was going to take me with him…but no such luck. Harry needed 'space,' he said. You know, after 'all of that stuff with Voldemort'."

She looked up at Malfoy with eyes filled with hurt and anger. "Space, I understood, but not space from me! I thought I was part of the solution, not the problem."

Malfoy looked as sympathetic as a cold-hearted bastard could possibly manage.

"I built all my future plans around the thought that I was going to be Harry's wife, so I have no plans now," said Ginny bitterly, acutely aware of how strange it was for her to be pouring her heart out to the blond wizard, on many levels.

"I'm certain it has been difficult for you, Miss Weasley," spoke Malfoy softly. "Women are often the ones who suffer most from war of any kind. I will not attempt to speak on the matter of Potter – we are both quite aware, I think, that I hate him. I don't believe you will trust me if I confide that I don't think him worthy," he said with a slight, malevolent smile.

Ginny laughed suddenly, though she had been close to tears. "Oh I don't hate him. I understand it, I suppose. I'm angry at myself for not seeing it coming."

"Pardon me, Miss Weasley," Malfoy sneered, "if I say I'm not surprised that you still somehow forgive 'Perfect Potter' even after he used you so ill." He clenched his teeth and a nasty look came over his face. "Potter has always gotten away with murder," he murmered darkly.

So Malfoy can be 'nice," Ginny thought, but only for a short period of time. It was obviously past that time. She squared herself in her chair and returned to the stiff manner of speaking. "Mr. Malfoy," she said crisply, "since you've never done anything to help others in your life, you obviously don't understand. After everything Harry sacrificed for the cause, it was only fair to allow him a certain amount of…room – in all things."

Malfoy stared at his lap irritably for a moment without speaking. Ginny decided a subject change was in order.

"'Perfect Potter,'" she repeated. "I've heard that name before. Did you call Harry's father that in school?"

"No, actually," replied Malfoy, his tone easing slightly, "I didn't know James Potter in school, he was two or three years behind me, and I didn't associate with students from other houses unless necessary. I must have picked it up from Draco."

"Ah yes!" Ginny exclaimed. "That's where I heard it! Your son called him that a lot."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "You knew my son, Miss Weasley?" he asked.

Ginny nodded. "I was in school with him for five years. I even played seeker against him when they needed a fill-in seeker for the Gryffindor team." She purposefully avoided mentioning Harry's name again.

After looking thoughtful for a moment, Malfoy turned back to her with a far more pleasant look upon his face. "What sort of things do you remember about him?"

"Well," Ginny began slowly, "I wasn't in the same house or year as him, so I don't know how much I have to tell you…," She paused to think – her impression of Draco Malfoy had been almost entirely negative. She searched her mind for something nice to say.

"He always got high marks in Potions," she said hesitantly, "it annoyed the hell out of Hermione."

Malfoy chuckled appreciatively as she thought a moment more. "He was a really excellent flyer, too. I'm really glad I only had to play him the once, when Harry got sick." She cursed herself mentally for mentioning Harry, but Malfoy didn't seem to notice.

"He was pretty creative, too…he wrote this song once, you know, for Quidditch, and even though it was against my own brother, I must admit it was rather clever."

"How did it go?" asked Malfoy.

Damn, thought Ginny, I am NOT singing for that man. She tried to hum it to get the words. "Weasley is our King. He always lets the quaffle in. That's why the Slytherins all sing – Weasley is our King," she recited. "That's all I can remember now, though there was more."

"I wish I'd been able to hear it," said Malfoy a little wistfully. He seemed dreadfully sad. Ginny wondered if telling him her recollections was really such a good idea.

"I didn't know him very well, Mr. Malfoy, but I'm certain your son would have made you proud in school," she assured him. Perhaps it wasn't entirely true – but then, Malfoy was Malfoy, and it was possible he'd be proud of his little git of a son for his haughty attitude and incendiary remarks.

Pride was not on his face right then, however. Only grief. Ginny felt more than sorry for him…she felt a unique and unspeakable kinship with him. There in his face was the melancholy she had so long felt.

Closing Author's note: Whew, lots of dialogue in this one. Next chapter we'll move into something more interesting, I promise! Incidentally, I am not trying to paint Harry as a bad person. I like Harry Potter, but anyone can understand how he'd have "issues" after everything he went through (and has yet to go through!) Lucius isn't very sympathetic because he's Lucius, and he has a point…but I don't want anyone to think I'm hating on Harry.