Yes, I am finally back! I'm so sorry for the long wait; I hope this chapter will be worth it. Thanks for all the reviews last chapter! There were seven of them, which is almost double the amount I've had for earlier chapters. Are you all still alive and reading?

Disclaimer: 'Tis not mine. All Jo's.

Ginny arrived to the try-outs almost three quarters' hour too early, but Gwenog and the rest of the team were already there.

'Ginevra!' Gwenog exclaimed. 'You're here early.'

'Yes, I – I had a bit of a quarrel with my husband,' Ginny replied.

'Ah, I see. Who were you made to marry?'

'Draco Malfoy.'

A few murmured condolences followed this statement; Gwenog looked especially sympathetic.

'Well, it's great that you're here earlier, because as I said, I've pretty much made up my mind and I'd love to have you on the team. You just have to convince the rest of the girls, but it shouldn't be a problem for you.'

'Thank you,' Ginny said with a smile.

40 minutes of great Quidditch ensued, until the other applicants started to drop in. When it looked like all had arrived, Gwenog flew up to Ginny.

'You can go home now, Ginny. Expect a letter in a few days; I've got to see some bloody wicked game from one of those to make me change my mind.'

'Okay. Thanks,' Ginny replied with a big smile. Gwenog shook her head.

'No, thank you. I haven't seen anyone play Quidditch like that for a long time. And remember, if Malfoy ever bothers you, just floo me, and he'll have an entire Quidditch team to deal with.'

Ginny apparated directly into her own room, where Tinny was waiting, wringing her hands.

'Young Mistress!' she exclaimed upon seeing Ginny. 'Young Master has been waiting for young Mistress, he wants to speak to her.'

Ginny ran a hand through her hair in frustration. Wouldn't he let it go?

'Where is he, Tinny?' she asked.

'Young Master is in his room. Young Master has invited young Mistress there.'

'I see. Thank you, Tinny.'

Ginny swept out of the room, into the bedroom, and then continued to Draco's room. She didn't stop to knock, but simply walked in.

'You wanted to speak to me?' she asked haughtily. She was not going to lose her temper again, not like she had this morning.

'So you're back.'

'Yes.'

'Did you do well?'

'Yes.'

'Is it likely you will make the team?'

'Yes.'

'Would you mind explaining why you feel the need to do this?'

'Because I want to, and because I can't spend my life sitting down, doing nothing. You may be able to, your mother may be able to, but I was brought up differently. I was brought up in a house that never was quiet, with a family that never did nothing. This is the opposite. I have to do something, or I'll go mad. If you don't understand that, then at least try to respect it.'

'And it must be playing professional Quidditch?'

'Quidditch is what I like most.'

Draco sighed deeply.

'Will you at least promise me you will find something else to keep yourself from "going mad" once you get pregnant with our first child?'

'I promise,' she replied, after only a moment's consideration.

'Well, that's something,' Draco muttered under his breath. Ginny folded her arms.

'I still don't see what the problem is, though. Why is it bad that I, Ginny Malfoy, want a job? And why is my being a woman a problem?'

'I'm surprised you haven't worked it out by yourself,' Draco sneered. 'It's very simple. To have a Malfoy work is bad because it suggests that we don't have an ever-growing fortune big enough to let us live like this for about 500 wizarding lifetimes. And if it is one of the Malfoy women working, it suggests that I rely on my very recent wife or my mother to bring in the money we apparently need, instead of doing something myself. And that is not good for what little good reputation the Malfoy name still possesses.'

Ginny felt a twinge of guilt, but she quickly supressed it. Okay, so perhaps there was a little more to this than his being a sexist pig, but that didn't mean she'd let him stop her from fulfilling her dream.

'I understand your concern. I won't change my mind, though.'

Draco didn't reply to this, but said, after a moment, 'Mother arrived a half-hour ago. I imagine she'd like to see you.'

'Where is she?'

'I believe she is in her rooms.'

'And I can walk into those rooms –'

'There is nothing to prevent you from entering her rooms.'

'Very well. Tinny!' Ginny called. Tinny was there immediately.

'Yes, young Mistress?' She was still looking somewhat worried.

'Take me to Narcissa's rooms, Tinny.'

'Tinny will, young Mistress.'

Tinny took her hand and apparated her into a large, pleasantly decorated room somewhat resembling her own. Narcissa was sitting on a sofa, reading a book. She looked up when she heard the crack of apparition.

'Ginevra,' she said with a polite smile.

'Welcome back, Narcissa,' Ginny replied, mirroring the older woman's smile. 'Did you have a pleasant trip?'

'Why yes, I had. Our villa in French is quite lovely. We must take you there sometime.'

'It sounds wonderful.'

'I heard you and Draco had disagreed on something?'

Ginny started at the sudden change of subject, but she didn't look away.

'Yes. He expected me to give up on my dream and spend all my time in this house doing nothing. I told him that was not going to happen. We've reached an agreement now.'

'I'm glad to hear it. Has everything else met your expectations?'

'There's been a couple of surprises –' A glint in Narcissa's eyes told Ginny that Narcissa knew exactly what kind of surprises there had been. '– but otherwise, yes.'

After a moment of silence, Ginny added, 'If it isn't any trouble, I'd like to invite my friend, Hermione Granger, this afternoon.'

Narcissa wrinkled her nose a little, as if she'd suddenly detected an unpleasant smell, but the expression was gone almost as soon as it had appeared.

'Yes of course, Ginevra. This is your house, too, and you may invite whomever you like.'

'Thank you. I will floo her immediately. Tinny!'

Tinny appeared.

'Yes, young Mistress, what can Tinny do for young Mistress?'

'Take me to my room, if you'd please, Tinny.'

'Yes, young Mistress!'

Tinny took her hand and apparated them to Ginny's room. Once there, she dismissed the elf and kneeled in front of the fire place with a fist of floo powder. She threw the powder into the hearth.

'The Burrow!' she said loudly, putting her head through the green flames. She was immediately met by the sight of Molly baking bread, humming to herself. She hadn't noticed Ginny yet.

'Mum!' she yelled. Molly turned around with a surprised expression.

'Ginny, dear!' she exclaimed a moment later, coming to kneel in front of the hearth. 'How are you? Have you had enough to eat? Are you comfortable? Will you come over for a while?'

'Thank you, mum, but no thanks. I'm very comfortable – I have my own personal house-elf – and I have plenty to eat. I wanted to speak to Hermione, actually. Could you fetch her for me?'

Molly looked rather disappointed, but nodded after a moment. 'I'll go look for her. Will you visit next week?'

'I'll try to,' Ginny promised. Molly left the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with Hermione.

'Ginny!' Hermione exclaimed with a smile. 'It's wonderful to see you!'

'It's wonderful to see you too,' Ginny replied. 'Hey, do you want to come over this afternoon? Two o'clock? I'd love some company.'

'Yes, of course! I'd love to.'

About three and a half hours later, Ginny's fireplace was filled with green flames. Hermione stepped out of the fire, brushed off some soot, and looked around with curiosity.

'Wow,' she said. 'Wow. This is a really nice room.'

'Yeah,' Ginny agreed. 'It's my favourite, actually. Without my invitation, no-one but the house-elves and I can enter.'

'That's a good thing,' Hermione mumbled absentmindedly. Having finished looking at the room, she turned towards Ginny and started.

'Wow,' she said once again. 'You look really different.'

Ginny blushed and tugged a little on her robes. When Tinny had heard about the impending visit, she had gone to new lengths in preparing her mistress. Ginny felt very much overdressed, but Tinny had been stubborn.

'Yeah, well, Tinny didn't think I looked good enough in my normal attire, so she played dress up with me . . . more than usual.

'It's not like with Dobby, Hermione,' she added quietly, when she saw her friend's disapproving look.

'It's still wrong,' Hermione muttered. Ginny couldn't help a small sigh; Hermione, coming from a muggle home, had never been able to understand the mind-set and culture of the house-elves. Furthermore, her prejudices about the Malfoy family's treatment of their house-elves were so well-fixed in her mind, Ginny knew Hermione wouldn't view the matter differently until she had proof that it was indeed different.

'Tinny!' Ginny called. Tinny appeared immediately.

'Yes, young Mistress, what can Tinny do for young Mistress?' Tinny asked, practically jumping with eagerness. Merlin bless her little soul.

'Tinny, are you happy?' Ginny asked. Tinny's vigorous nods made her ears flap.

'Oh yes, young Mistress, oh yes! Tinny is very, very happy. Tinny is loving serving young Mistress!' the little elf replied. Hermione looked far from convinced.

'Then what about Dobby?' she asked.

Tinny's happy expression melted away as she started to wring her hands in what seemed to be both nervousness and sadness.

'Dobby had a very hard life, friend of young Mistress. Dobby was Master's personal elf. Master did not . . . be to house-elves like young Master, young Mistress, and Mistress is.'

'Really?' Hermione asked, leaning forward. 'You and the other house-elves are treated well now?'

This seemed to be a question more easily answered.

'Yes, the Malfoy family is very kind to us!' Tinny squeaked. Just like that, she had regained her happy enthusiasm, and in the face of that, Hermione was forced to let go of the matter.

In the awkward silence that ensued, Ginny found herself falling back on her mother's unfailing solution to all the world's problems.

'Tinny, will you get us something to eat? Fruit, or sandwiches?' she asked.

'Yes, young Mistress!' Tinny replied, and – looking relieved to have some sort of order to carry out – disapparated.

'She seems nice,' Hermione said a moment later.

'Yes, she's lovely. And it's nice having someone doing what I ask them to do – Tinny is pretty much the only thing I have control over at the moment.'

That statement seemed to do away with what was left of the awkward atmosphere.

'Oh, Ginny,' Hermione said, enveloping her in a hug. 'I'm so sorry. We're all in the same situation.'

'Yeah,' Ginny agreed silently, barely noticing the fruit and sandwiches that suddenly appeared on the small table next to them. 'Except last time I checked, Terry Boot wasn't a former Death Eater belonging to an ancient and prejudiced pure-blood family.'

Hermione pulled away and gave her a long look.

'I don't really think our new spouses' pasts matter; what matters is that we don't love them. As you don't love Malfoy, and I don't love Terry, we are in the same situation.'

'You're right. I'm sorry. I just . . . feel like my marriage will be more unpleasant than most people's.'

'I –'

Whatever Hermione had been about to say was interrupted by a knock on the door.

'Come in!' Ginny called. She did it without thinking, and immediately regretted it; as the house-elves could apparate in and out of her room without restraint, she could only think of two people who could be outside that door.

Please let it be Narcissa. Please. Narcissa can be cordial, I know she can, please let it be her . . .

Draco opened the door and walked in.

'Draco!' Ginny exclaimed, trying to sound calm.

'Ginny,' Draco replied. 'Miss Granger. I heard you were visiting, and I thought I should stop by and say hello.'

'Oh,' Hermione mumbled, clearly surprised. 'Hello, Malfoy.'

'Please, call me Draco. Any friend of Ginny's is a friend of mine.'

'Then . . . you may call me Hermione,' she slowly replied, looking utterly confused.

'Very well, Hermione. I didn't just come here to greet you, but wanted to offer you a tour around the Manor.'

'A tour . . . around the Manor?' she repeated doubtfully. Draco nodded.

'Yes. You'd better be able to find your way around here, as I'm sure my wife would soon like to have you over again. Wouldn't you, Ginny?'

'Yes, of course,' Ginny replied, trying her best to look unaffected despite the fact that Draco was acting completely out of character. What the hell was he doing?

'In fact,' Draco continued, 'that doesn't only go for my wife. My mother and I would both be honoured if you and Mr Boot would have dinner with us the 26th. You are marrying Terry Boot on the 23rd, aren't you?'

Hermione blinked rapidly; she had not expected Draco Malfoy to know that.

'Yes, I am. And I – I think I can speak for Terry when I accept your dinner invitation. You and your mother are, of course, more than welcome to attend my wedding.'

'We'd be glad to,' Draco said with a small smile. 'Now, are you ready for your tour?'

'Er . . . yes?'

'Wonderful. Come along then.'

Draco really did show Hermione the entire Manor, all the while maintaining polite conversation both with her and with Ginny. No word, no look, nothing at all indicated that Draco thought less of Hermione because of her blood status – a vast difference from the last time the two of them had actually talked. Hermione, after getting over her initial shock, seemed to enjoy Draco's conversation, and kept sending Ginny looks clearly saying: What's so horrible about being married to him? He's not at all like he used to be!

Ginny didn't buy it; she was certain Draco had not drastically changed his entire way of being since lunchtime. This was an act he was putting up for Hermione's sake, but Ginny couldn't quite figure out why. Why would he care about Hermione's opinion of him?

Suddenly, the small party came to a halt.

'Hermione . . .' Draco trailed off, concern clear in his voice. 'This is the drawing room. We don't have to go in there if it will bring up too many bad memories, but I want you to know that it's been thoroughly redecorated since you last saw the room. You wouldn't recognise it.'

'Oh,' Hermione mumbled, biting her lip. 'Completely redecorated?'

'Completely. Floors, walls, furniture, lamps – even the ceiling. It looks completely different.'

'Well, then. How bad could it be?' she asked, putting on a brave face, although Ginny was sure she was faking it.

'Hopefully not bad at all, but feel free to leave the room at any point. I won't consider it rude at all.'

'Thank you, Draco,' Hermione said softly.

They all entered the room, and Hermione looked around with wide eyes.

'It – it really is different. The ceiling is completely repainted!'

'Yes,' Draco replied, nodding gravely. 'We only changed it recently. Most of the room was redecorated directly after the war, but we left the ceiling as it was. That is, we left it until we heard that I would be marrying Ginny. I . . . don't know if you remember it, but I was watching when you were . . . tortured. You – you were looking at the ceiling the entire time. I thought . . . that if Ginny would bring you here, it would be better if the ceiling was changed, too.'

'Yes,' Hermione whispered. Then she repeated, in a stronger voice, 'Yes. Thank you, Draco. That was quite thoughtful. This room does hardly bring any bad memories at all, because it doesn't look like the same room.'

'I'm glad. Now, if we should move on? You've seen the Manor, but you haven't seen the gardens yet, and I believe the same goes for Ginny. Ladies?'

Hermione and Ginny were standing next to the fireplace. Draco was standing some feet away, but he hadn't left the room.

'We'll talk about this later,' Hermione whispered as she hugged Ginny, before leaning back and saying in a louder voice, 'Bye, Ginny.'

'Yes,' Ginny replied. 'Goodbye.'

As soon as Hermione had left, Ginny turned to Draco and exclaimed, 'What the hell was that all about?'

Draco shrugged.

'I don't know what you're talking about. I was just polite to your friend,' he smirked.

'Don't play games with me, Draco. Why did you act like that?'

'Honestly, Ginny. Are you this slow on the uptake because you are a Gryffindor or because you come from a family who never spent a moment thinking about their reputation?'

'Draco, I'm warning you –'

'Fine. Granger is your friend, but she's also a very influential member of the British Wizarding World, much as I hate to admit it. If she leaves thinking we're the poster couple for marital bliss, and if we can make your other influential friends come here and leave with the same impression, that's not only good for the Malfoy name, but it's also good for you. You may not be born a Malfoy, but you are one now, and if you think our bad name won't affect you negatively sooner or later, you're a fool.'

'But I –'

'What? For how long do you honestly think people will remember the part you played in the war, now that you're not engaged to Potter anymore? How long before you stop being Ginny the War Hero and start being Ginny the Malfoy wife instead? People remember old wrongs longer than they remember old services. That's the way things work. Sooner or later people will forget who you used to be, and they'll only see who you are now: my wife. It's up to you whether you want that to be a good or a bad thing.'

'What? How in Merlin's name could that be a good thing?' Ginny spat. His words were a harsh reminder of the absolute hopelessness of her situation, and the idea that there was a silver lining somewhere seemed absolutely ridiculous.

'If people like Granger and Potter think that the Malfoys are a respectable and open-minded family, they will without a doubt tell anybody who's willing to listen. If you make them – and all your other little hero friends – believe that we have completely changed views when it comes to blood status and muggle-borns' place in our society, the rest of the Wizarding World will believe so, too. And voila: when you introduce yourself, you will be met by admiration and helping hands, rather than disgust and cold shoulders. It's your choice.'

'Have you really changed views?' Ginny asked him quietly after a moment. He gave her a long look, but didn't reply. A moment later he had exited the room.

There. Ginny either has to lie to her friends or live more than 30 years in an unhappy marriage with a husband the entire world hates.

Next chapter will be the low-water mark (yes, believe it or not, it can still get worse) but then things will start to look up a little. Promise.

Please leave a review, it's the only payment a poor fanfiction writer gets. ;)

See you around for chapter nine!

Hannoie