The door to the study was open, allowing Draco to hear soft, familiar footsteps before the person came into view. He straightened in his seat and then, realizing what he had done, scowled in annoyance with himself. It was only Weasley. Why did he care anyway?

Perhaps because, over the last few days, he had realized how soon their forced time together was going to come to an end. Mouse was almost completely healed; his tail had straightened and now had such strength in it that when he hit Draco with it, it stung. It was clear the kitten was still learning his own strength, for each time that Draco yelped in surprise, Mouse would jump before rushing to Draco to apologize, his large head rubbing against Draco's chest. Once Mouse's potions were empty, once the month was up, Ginny had no reason to come to Malfoy Manor anymore.

The thought left Draco feeling strange.

"I've got a treat for you!" Ginny called as she turned into the study. Balanced easily on the palm of her hand was a large, cardboard box. Draco stared at her, and it, uncertainly for a moment.

"What the hell have you brought into my home now?"

Ginny rolled her eyes as she grinned at him. Draco's heart skipped a beat.

"I'm taking this to the kitchen. If you or Goyle want any, it's yours."

Draco stood from his chair and walked after her, eyebrows furrowed. She was simply going to walk through the manor as if it were her home to drop off some box? He wasn't sure how he felt about the idea that Ginny could easily lead herself there without Draco's direction.

Bloody woman.

"What is it?" Draco questioned again.

"Pizza."

Draco almost stopped walking in surprise. Pizza? Pansy had made Draco try pizza once, when she was drunk and upset about her parents. She had bought the pizza pie on a whim. When Draco had arrived at her flat, she and Theo were sprawled in the living room, eating slices of it. If Pansy hadn't been about to cry while asking him to try the food, Draco never would have.

"You—you brought pizza here?" Draco asked, his voice pitched high with annoyance.

His ancestors were probably rolling over in their graves at this very moment. He took a deliberate look around, trying to see if the ghost of his Grandfather Abraxis had suddenly appeared. There were no ghostly apparitions, though, and he looked back at Ginny to see her shrugging as she continued on her way. Draco stalked after her, annoyed.

"Angelina's pregnancy cravings have her eating a pizza pie easily every day. She can't get enough of it. When I went over for lunch today, George made me take all their leftovers. He's getting sick of pizza. And, honestly, if George is getting sick of some type of food, they've definitely been eating it too much. I mean, he's on the same level as Ron when it comes to eating as much as humanly possible."

They entered the kitchen and she slid the box onto the counter before turning to face him. She leaned against the counter casually and, for one strange moment, Draco felt that she looked as though she belonged there. Silly thought. But, still… Something warm and strange stirred deep in his belly. He inhaled sharply, hoping it would make the weird feeling go away. She grinned at him.

"Where's Mouse?" Ginny asked.

On cue, Mouse meowed, trotting into the kitchen. Ginny squatted down to pet Mouse in greeting before looking up at Draco. His stomach did that weird thing again. For fuck's sake, was he about to be sick?

"Are you hungry, then?"

Draco shook his head. He had been, before his stomach started acting all bubbly. The idea of eating anything right now, especially with Ginny staring at him, was vastly unappealing.

"Not everyone enjoys eating a pie of cheese," Draco drawled.

"Don't be daft," Ginny replied, picking the large kitten up. Mouse nuzzled her neck. "You'll likely finish the whole thing once I leave."

"I beg to differ."

"With some help from Goyle, then."

Draco frowned and she smirked.

"Perhaps," he allowed. "Are you going to have any?"

He waved at the box. Draco had never invited her to stay over for a meal, unlike Gregory. Part of him hoped she'd say yes. Instead, she pressed a kiss to Mouse's head and began heading out the kitchen.

"I ate plenty at George and Angelina's. If I eat any more, my coaches will have my head. Training season starts soon. I don't want to fall off my broom, weighed down by cheese…"

Ginny was still talking and Draco's lips twitched into a smile as he followed her back to the study.

She was flustered when she entered the study two days later. Cheeks red and eyes sharp, Ginny stomped through the doorway. Draco watched her. Instead of heading to the neatly lined potions as she normally did, Ginny flopped down on the couch, crossing her arms angrily over her chest.

One of his eyebrows lifted at the sight. She looked like a sullen child. Draco wanted to point this out to her, but feared she'd react more harshly than normal. The thought of getting hexed by Ginny was not an appealing one.

"You look like you're in a good mood."

Ginny looked over at him when he spoke, her eyes narrowing for a moment before she let out a long breath. It seemed to help release some of the tension in her body. Though curious about what was wrong, Draco forced his eyes away from Ginny and onto the papers in front of him. Mouse, who was lounging in Draco's lap, stretched languorously before hopping down and approaching Ginny. He leaned against her legs happily as she pet him.

The study was silent except for Mouse's contented purring. Ginny remained on the couch and Draco focused on what he had been doing before she entered. Lately, he had found that whenever Ginny was around, he never seemed to finish his work. His precious hours to work on pending paperwork at home after leaving Gringotts each day were now lost. It was rather annoying.

"Sorry."

The single word broke the silence. Draco glanced over at her. Her gaze wasn't on him; she seemed mesmerized by Mouse, who had jumped onto the couch beside her, continuing to beg for pets. What, exactly, was she sorry for?

"It's been a rotten day," Ginny continued, before Draco could say anything. "My mum sort of—she expressed some concerns about my lifestyle."

That was surprising. Draco had always assumed the matriarch of the Weasley brood viewed her children as incapable of doing any wrong. What could Ginny possibly be doing that would upset her mother?

"Did you not laugh hard enough at something Potter said? Or was it mentioned that you've been hiding out with me at the manor?" he drawled.

A rush of nerves hit him as he spoke. Even though he meant it as a joke, Draco had begun to wonder if there'd be consequences to how much time she spent with him now. But a smile graced her face before she bit it back. She leaned back into the couch cushions.

"Merlin no, my mum isn't insane," Ginny replied. "It's just… I'm not ready to get married or settle down or—or have babies. I thought I was, you know? I think I got her hopes up a bit. Harry wanted to get married years ago and I thought I did too. But then we both realized it wasn't right—"

"Smart move on your part. Couldn't imagine being chained to Potter for life."

"But my mum was ready for it. I know my mum wishes I were more like Hermione sometimes—"

"Granger?" Draco's face scrunched. "Do you compare yourself to her often?"

Ginny stared at him, frowning.

"Um, no. Of course not. Just something I know my mum's thinking. Hermione has a great job, married my brother in this beautiful, fun wedding not long after school. They're talking about having kids. It's what my mum wishes I was doing."

Draco almost rolled his eyes. He picked up the parchment he had been looking over earlier, skimming it.

"Well, I don't think your career with the Harpies is anything to scoff at," Draco muttered. "And it's not your fault that Potter's an idiot who couldn't handle you."

When his eyes flicked up from the paper, he realized she had been watching him, an odd look on her face. Warmth flooded his cheeks. Had he said something wrong? Ginny had never looked at him like that before. Then she blinked and stood from the couch, walking over to the potions. Mouse followed her happily, ready for his nightly medicine.

"What about you?" she asked as she gave Mouse his potions.

Draco blinked.

"What about me?"

"I mean," Ginny said, sighing, "at least I have brothers for my mum to bug. Combined, they've given her three grandkids-another on the way-so she's mostly content right now. You're an only child, though. Doesn't your mum have some… some crazy expectations for you?"

"The only thing my mother wants is for me to not end up in a cell beside my father."

Ginny grimaced. Draco hesitated; telling Ginny that all his mother wanted was for him to not to end up in Azkaban wasn't the complete truth. If Ginny's mother only wanted her daughter to settle down, then Narcissa certainly had higher expectations for Draco: Right the wrongs of the past, restore the Malfoy name to its previous glory, marry a pureblood witch, have several children who wouldn't fail as badly as Draco had, worm his way into the Ministry again, free his father from Azkaban.

A dull ache seemed to form behind his eye and Draco rubbed his forehead. There was a reason Narcissa had fled to France, where she spent most of her time. Draco wasn't doing what she wished quickly enough. His interest in Gringotts wasn't something his mother quite understood. She appreciated his love of money but couldn't comprehend why he'd want to work beside goblins and commoners rather than try to work his way up through the Ministry.

"Think you'll be able to manage it?"

Draco stopped massaging his forehead. His eyes met hers.

"Manage what?"

"Staying out of Azkaban." Her lips quirked. "Or will you try to end up there just to spite her?"

"As long as you don't tell any of your family members about the horrific things I've been doing at the manor, I'm sure I'll be able to stay far away from that pit of misery."

Ginny laughed.

"You owe me."

Draco stirred from his sleep at the familiar voice. Opening one eye, he saw Pansy standing beside his bed, her hands on her hips. She waited patiently for him to completely awaken. Pushing himself up, Draco stared at Pansy, confused. It wasn't Wednesday, and she hadn't been here when he had fallen asleep. There was also a smirk on her face—one she wore whenever she did something that Draco likely wouldn't be pleased about.

"Hell, Pansy, it's past midnight," Draco groaned after glancing at his pocket watch.

Pansy's lips stretched wider and she nodded.

"Yes, and I've brought you something."

"It couldn't wait until tomorrow?"

"Possibly," Pansy responded. "But I have a feeling she would've come to find you on her own. I didn't want her splinching herself. I can only imagine the consequences I'd face for letting that happen."

It took a second to process what Pansy had said, but when he did, Draco was out of bed before he could blink.

"Who did you bring here?"

Pansy's eyes twinkled, and Draco fought the urge to curse her. He walked around her, yanking his silk robe off the hanger, and spun around to face her angrily.

"Are you mad?" Draco hissed, pulling on the robe. "For fuck's sake, I have to work in the morning—"

"Yes, well, apparently Weasley doesn't," Pansy replied sweetly. "She was wandering around Hogsmeade, rather tipsy."

Suspicions confirmed, Draco ran his hands over his face. Any lingering sleep was gone. Adrenaline rushed through his system. Ginny was here, at the manor, drunk. Pansy was absolutely horrible. Once again, Draco wondered if he could trade his friends for new ones. There had to be some sort of exchange system somewhere.

"Why would you bring her here?"

"She asked for you, Draco. Once she spotted me, she came up babbling about you as though you were the dearest of friends. I'd say I was embarrassed by such a display of public drunkenness but—"

"—who are you to judge someone who is drunk in public with your own history?"

Draco couldn't help the jab as annoyance poked him. Pansy's gaze sharpened but she ignored what he said.

"I was going to say, I was rather envious. She desperately wanted to see you. I offered to bring her here. I thought you might want to enjoy some quality time with her."

It had only been a few hours since Ginny had come to the manor to give Mouse his potions. She had mentioned going to Hogsmeade to see Longbottom. And, of bloody course, Pansy enjoyed frequenting the Three Broomsticks when she was in a particularly good mood. That must be how they had run into each other.

"I think I'll take one of the spare bedrooms," Pansy told him, amused. "Give you two some privacy."

Draco left his bedroom without saying another word. He wanted to be annoyed—and he was, a bit. But other emotions were rushing to take over: worry, excitement, nervousness, glee. Ginny had wanted to come see him. But why? Or, perhaps she had wanted to come and see Mouse again. The kitten hadn't woken, even with the commotion, and was still buried in Draco's sheets. The idea that Ginny would come for Mouse, while realistic, made his stomach twist.

When he finally arrived at the study, he spotted Ginny right away. She had been laying by the hearth but turned her head when she heard him enter. She rushed to stand, a large smile on her face.

"You have such an early bedtime, Draco," she laughed as she walked up to him.

"You're drunk," Draco observed, his eyes flitting over her.

Ginny blew out her cheeks.

"I am not drunk. See?"

She held out her arms and lifted a leg so that she was forced to awkwardly balance. For a moment, she swayed before finding perfect balance.

"Yes, that proves it," Draco said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Sober as can be, clearly."

She giggled, and a smirk forced its way to his lips.

"Not to be rude—"

"That's a first."

"—but what are you doing here?" he asked. "It's rather late, isn't it?"

Ginny didn't seem bothered by his questions. She shrugged happily.

"Let's go flying. I want to go flying with you."

"I'd rather you not fall to your death on my property. Didn't I tell you only a few days ago that I was trying to avoid going to Azkaban?" Draco questioned, eyeing her. When she didn't respond, he prompted her again. "Ginny, why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you," she replied easily, her voice genuine and light.

A wave of warmth washed over Draco. Other than Pansy, Gregory, and Theo, no one wanted to see Draco. Without any permission at all, his feet stepped forward, bringing him closer to Ginny. She had to tilt her head back slightly to keep eye contact with him.

"Why?"

Something passed over Ginny's face—hesitation, perhaps—before it disappeared.

"I've been thinking about you. I mean—" She took a deep breath; it was clear she was trying to figure out what to say. "Percy announced his engagement to his girlfriend, Audrey, earlier at dinner and we opened some wine there to celebrate and then I met up with Neville at Hogsmeade and—it was weird, really, because I couldn't stop thinking about you and how much more fun I'd be having if you were there. Not that Neville isn't fun, but I think you and I have been getting on well, haven't we? And, I don't know, it's hard to explain to other people, but I tried with Neville. Neville knows me best, really, and he tried to understand. He tried telling me that I have some sort of—of crush on you, which is silly, but then I saw Parkinson and I saw it as some sort of sign and she agreed to bring me here, she was afraid I'd splinch myself if I tried to get here without help—"

"Wait, what?" Draco choked out.

Longbottom thought Ginny had a crush on Draco? And she had told Draco that? Was he still dreaming? Trying not to be obvious, Draco pinched his forearm. It stung briefly. He definitely wasn't dreaming. Had Pansy somehow slipped Ginny a love potion? No, no, that would be too cruel, even for her.

"I suppose it was overstepping, just showing up like I live here. Parkinson said you and Goyle would already be in bed."

"Have you fallen and hit your head?"

"I… I don't think so."

Perhaps Ginny was absolutely smashed. She didn't look it, other than the bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and rambling a bit more than usual. Draco shook his head. Maybe he had misheard her.

"Why would you think that?" she asked, reaching up and touching her head as though to double-check that she hadn't fallen over at some point.

"No reason," Draco replied, unwilling to remind her of what she had just said. "Do you want me to… to take you home? Or…"

Ginny stared up at him.

"Or what?" she pressed.

His heart was racing. There was something mischievous in her gaze that made Draco feel uneasy. No, not uneasy. He wasn't certain exactly what he was feeling. All he could think about was the fact that Ginny had been thinking about him since she left the manor. All he could think about was the fact that when she saw Pansy, someone she never spoke to, she had run up to the witch and asked about Draco.

"Come. I'll put you in one of the extra bedrooms. One of the house-elves will bring you water." Draco turned and started out of the study with Ginny slowly following. "Try not to go snooping through things, if you can help it. I'm not sure my mother has ever really had these rooms properly checked—"

"I think he might be right."

Draco looked over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed.

"Who?"

"Neville." She paused. "I think he might be right."

Draco stopped walking as though he had been hexed. Ginny stepped towards him, slowly, until she was beside him. Then she reached out, her small hand tugging at Draco's arm so that it fell to his side. She urged him to turn so that they faced each other.

"You're drunk," Draco said, breath catching.

"I thought we agreed I wasn't," she replied softly.

The brown of her eyes was warm, comforting, happy.

"Your balancing act proves nothing."

She shrugged, uncaring.

"Even if I was drunk, which I'm not, just a bit tipsy, it doesn't change what I'm saying."

The urge to run, to stumble away from Ginny so he didn't have to hear her, hit him hard. Draco swallowed thickly. He had only recently become accustomed to the idea that he enjoyed Ginny's company, that he'd experience a loss when she stopped coming by the manor. But what she was saying now, what she was trying to tell him, meant so much more.

"Let me take you to bed," Draco told her.

"Promise?"

His breath caught in his throat. Before he could try to explain what he had meant—that he would take her to a bed in a guest room, not his room, that she was intoxicated, so he would never… she stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her hands around his neck. Where she touched him, his skin seemed to burn. Draco let her move him again, his mind seeming to detach from his body. Her breath warmed his lips as she hesitated. A part of Draco wanted to lean forward, to close the distance between them, but he found he had no control over himself.

After a second, Ginny smiled slightly before leaning forward, pressing her lips to his.

Everything went completely quiet—all of the questions and worry in Draco's head, the ticking of the grandfather clock down the corridor, the cackle of the fire in the study. Her lips were soft, warm, familiar in a way that Draco was confused by. His body reacted then, coming back to life, and he stepped away. Ginny's hands dropped from his neck down to his arms and she grabbed him there to stop him from moving further away.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Her words were loud in the quiet of the hall. "That was selfish of me. I am a bit drunk. Are you—do you care if I stay here still?"

His blood sang. His heart raced. His lips tingled.

Draco tried to remain collected as he nodded. Silently, he led her through the foyer, up the staircase, and into one of the many empty bedrooms. When she fell onto the bed, asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, Draco left. He sat in the hall for a long while, back pressed against the cool wall, as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.