Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews and support! You guys make my day. This is a bit shorter, but I graduate in two weeks, so don't worry. The next chapter will have more to it. :)
Every year, Draco's parents had a grand Christmas party at the manor.
Only the most elegant witches and wizards were invited, of course, nothing but the best. But Draco never minded all the stuffy adults, because they often brought their children, too, and Draco could run and play with wild abandon without his parents worrying too much about the noise or the fuss. It was always a wonderful evening, full of Great Britain's magical elite, a real Who's-Who of the times.
But to Draco, it was just the best holiday of all. And not just because of all the food or the decorations, and not because his friends got to come over and play. But because, at the end of the night, when all the guests had gone home and the Manor was finally quiet again, Draco's parents would curl him up in their arms and they'd all go to their suite, where they read together until Draco fell asleep.
Then, in the morning, they had their own little Christmas together, just the three of them.
It was on days like those Draco most often recalled his parents smiling, and it was also one of the few times he saw his father as truly affectionate. Sometimes, when Lucius thought no one was looking, he would watch Narcissa appreciatively before reaching over and drawing a hand over her face, so that his fingers brushed the top of her hairline, down over her ear, and then to her jawline, where his thumb swept the soft edges of her face and brushed just under her lips.
Narcissa, on these rare occasions, would smile truly, brilliantly. And small Draco would watch from his spot, the very example of admiration.
It was difficult to notice at first, but after the day George and Vera visited, things started to get… better. The days began to blend together in a way that they hadn't before. Instead of passing by Ginny in a meaningless array of bleak and unremarkable instances, Ginny found the next few weeks to be surprisingly enjoyable.
Fun, even.
Such as that day Narcissa brought over her snooty friends...
"… planning on an upgrade for the foyer here," Narcissa was saying to her well-to-do guests as she led them along the bright sunlit dining room. The two elegant witches nodded in approval, making noises of agreement whenever prompted.
Just then, a blur raced by one of the large windows, rocking the hinges.
The three women paused, and one of them leaned over and peered curiously at the tall glass. "What on earth was that?" she asked, and Narcissa raised a brow before plastering a smile on her face.
"I'm sure it was nothing – an owl perhaps – "
But then something blazed by again, and this one was accompanied by a blustering roll of wind that blasted open every window in the room, creating a gust that nearly bowled the three women over. Startled, Narcissa straightened quickly only to see – to her mounting rage – a Snitch hovering just in front of her, wings beating furiously. Then it was off, out of the opposite window, and she knew what was coming next before it even happened.
"I SEE IT, MALFOY!"
That was when two large blurs raced through the open window, just over the heads of the women, through the dining room and straight out of the opposite window after the Snitch, creating such a billowing gust of wind that all three of the witches looked like they'd just stepped out of a tornado.
After a moment, Narcissa cleared her throat, smoothed back her wild hair and said chipperly, "Tea, ladies?"
Or that day they experimented with some Weasley-esque inventions...
"I'm not sure we're supposed to light this in grass," noted Draco, looking down at the monstrosity of fuses and magical explosives they'd made.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the update, Filch! Now hurry up already!"
They did so, and as soon as the firework was lit, a ring of grass around it erupted in a popping purple flame. "Oh, bloody hell – "
"ABANDON SHIP!"
The two bolted, but even from the inside of the house, Lucius Malfoy could hear his small garden shed explode into a furious blaze of Merlin only knew what.
"This is why," he said to himself, "I only had the one."
Or that time Ginny really, really did her best...
...Ginny sat at the long Malfoy dinner table, her fingers firmly grasping the fork, her feet doing their very best not to twitch. Draco sat directly across from her, and the only other occupant at the table was a very irritable Narcissa, since Damien was gone more often than not.
After nearly twenty minutes of uneasy silence, Ginny screwed up her best attempt at a smile and said to Narcissa, "So… this is very good." After a pause, she ventured politely, "Is it like… a – family recipe?"
Naricissa's eyes slowly slid to Ginny, her pretty lips pursed into a tiny sour pucker. "Are you suggesting," she asked, scandalized, "that I made this meal myself?"
"Merlin," Draco pressed a hand over his face.
"BLOODY HELL, MALFOY! I TRIED!
There was also the day Ginny helped Draco out...
"Okay, so explain to me again," said Draco, "why you would prefer to fix this, instead of just letting me take it to a shop?"
Ginny ran a rag over the handle of the broomstick and smiled, pleased. "Because Malfoy, if I'd let someone else fix it, then I couldn't do this!"
Then she turned it to flash him the other side of the broom, which now read – THE FLYING FERRET.
"I hate you," he told her flatly, as Ginny laughed herself into a fit on the ground, wallowing around in the grass like the dirty little troll she was.
Or the day she nearly beat him.
"Check," said Ginny, her chin in her hand.
She nearly missed Draco's look of surprise on the opposite side of the chessboard, but when she caught it, her features instantly brightened. "Did I – did I catch you off guard, Malfoy?"
"No," he said, but she could see he was pressing back a smile. "I knew that was coming."
"Liar!" Ginny straightened and pumped both fists in the air. "Admit it, Malfoy! You didn't see that coming!"
"You're still going to lose," Draco said with a chuckle, but Ginny folded her arms over her chest smugly and shook her head.
"Doesn't matter. I'm getting better."
Draco rolled his eyes, but his smile remained.
And then one morning a few weeks later, it snowed.
"Malfoy!"
Ginny pounced onto his bed and he groaned. "Malfoy, it's snowing!"
"We live in England," he grumbled. "How rare is snow?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "But it's the FIRST snow! That's important!" She jumped back off the bed, bare feet padding along the floor before she tossed herself against the frosty window and smiled. "Wait," she said, "What month is it?" She really needed a calendar.
Draco rolled over in his bed and squinted at her. "November, you harpy. Shut up."
"November…" Ginny murmured, glistening eyes on the snowfall out of the window. It was still soft, light, like a layer of sugar placed delicately on the many fixtures of the Malfoy grounds. The courtyard she could see from the bedroom window was slowly falling to sleep under a blanket of sparkling white particles, and Ginny's chest swelled with affection for the sight of it.
If it was November, that meant she had been at the Manor for nearly six months.
Turning on the window seat, Ginny wrapped her arms around her knees and watched the growing opaqueness of the window; a misty seal of frost crept over the edges, as if it were trying to sneak into the room and disturb its warmth. Snow had always seemed sentient to Ginny.
It wanted her out there.
"I'm going outside," she told Draco, before dashing around the room. Only then did she realize she didn't have any gloves or a hat or anything, not even a coat. "Malfoy, I'm taking your stuff."
Draco mumbled something into his pillow, but Ginny disregarded it.
A few minutes later she was gone, out of the door, stomping down the hallway in her graceless way. Twenty minutes later, Draco approached the window of his bedroom, a cup of hot coffee in his hand. Peering out of the window, he spotted Ginny out in the courtyard, running about in the snow.
Ginny was wearing Draco's black coat, which ran very long on her shorter frame, and one of his matching black hats, pulled down far over her ginger hair. She'd taken his gloves as well, too long for her fingers but suitable enough, it seemed, to gather all the snow she could and plop it into an ever-growing pile.
Shaking his head, Draco settled on the window seat and watched her, finding that he enjoyed it quite a bit.
Just a few days after the first snowfall, Ginny sat on the floor with Bleaker, dealing out cards.
After a few rounds, Ginny let out a groan. "Oh, you beat me again, Bleaker!"
Bleaker tittered. "Missus Weasley is too kind to Bleaker."
"Damn right she is," said Draco, appearing in the room from the hallway. "Go clean something." The elf nodded graciously and disappeared. Ginny made a face, and Draco raised a brow.
"Why are you still in your pajamas?" he asked, and Ginny returned his sarcastic look.
"What? It's only 9 AM. Who do I have to look fancy for?"
"Well," said Draco, "I don't think even a vagabond like you should wear pajamas to Diagon Alley." Ginny blinked confusedly for a moment, before suddenly, delight took over her features and she leaped to her feet.
"What, you mean – I can go? Today?"
"Got the signature this morning," he said, carefully pressing back a smile. He waved the parchment, but Ginny was already bouncing on her feet.
"Yes, yes! Oh – wait – hang on – I'll go change, don't you DARE leave without me!" Then she rushed into her room to change, quickly brushing out her hair. Once she was done, the two stepped outside of the manor, where a light snow remained. They exited the main gate to get to the apparition point, but Draco paused and held up a hand to stop her bouncing.
"Now, Weasley, remember that Diagon Alley isn't going to be exactly the same – "
Ginny made an impatient face.
" – and before you blame it all on me, as you always do, it's just a product of war. And it's getting better."
"Is Fortescue's open?" she asked, and Draco marveled at the fact that her first concern was ice cream.
"Yes," he said, amused.
"So let's GO already!" Then she stuck out her hand pointedly.
Draco observed her for a moment before he shook his head and stepped forward, sliding his hand into hers. A split-second later, they both disappeared with a pop.
As soon as they appeared together in Diagon Alley, Ginny's face lit up in a dazzling smile, one which Draco noticed with a hint of pride. She let go of Draco's hand, but kept close, and together they walked into the busy street.
Draco's cautious mood lightened considerably at seeing how much busier the streets were than they'd been a year before. It was true – businesses really were coming back, just slowly. Sure, there were still several empty streets, but he'd keep Ginny from those for now, give them time to make their comeback. For now, at least five of the busiest blocks were in great working order.
Ginny gasped loudly before running to a shop window. "Malfoy, look at this broom!" Before he could even respond, she hurried around the display and into the shop, moving up to the fabulous new broom models with an airy sigh of appreciation.
"This is just beautiful," she said, holding up her hands reverently. Draco was forced to agree.
"Damn fine model," he said, getting a tingle of excitement he hadn't felt in years. "Look at the handle design – totally updated. Top of the line."
"Ah," said the storekeeper, coming over to them. "You both have a good eye!" He proceeded to prattle on about every single detail of the Pegasus 2000, "Only just come out a week ago!" The shopkeeper said proudly. Ginny had never had a salesman pay so much attention to her, especially not in a full-price shop, and she soaked up every detail of the luxurious broom.
It was only after the salesman was dismissed that Ginny realized he must have recognized Draco. Ah, the attention rich people got, she thought wryly.
"Bloody hell," she said, finally noticing the price tag. "This thing is five thousand galleons! You could buy a house for that!"
"Who needs a house when you have a great broom?" asked Draco. "You can't put a price on what carries you hundreds of feet off the ground, Weasley."
"Ooh, what a philosopher you are," Ginny snorted with a grin. "Please, tell me more of your great life wisdom."
"Shut up."
"You shut up."
After they left the broomstick shop, the pair drifted in and out of various shops, and Ginny was just as delighted to see the things she recognized as she was at anything new. They went through the pet store ("You really need a cat, Malfoy. You seem like a cat person." "What do I need a cat for? I already have you to destroy things and not listen when I talk") and to the herbology store, where Ginny mused over the plants with delight.
They finally made it to Fortescue's, but as soon as they approached, Ginny balked. "I don't have any gold," she muttered. Draco gave her an incredulous look.
"Well, by an amazing stroke of luck, I do," he informed her wryly.
"I don't want to take your gold. I want a job."
"Fine," said Draco, "Your job is to stop complaining." At Ginny's scoff, he picked up her hand and deposited some Galleons into it. "There, for a job well done. Now go." Ginny stuck out her tongue, but the desire for sweet creamy goodness won out, and she trotted up to the shop with Draco.
"Alright," she said, "But only because I really want a treat."
"Mmhm." Draco looked over the menu. "It is really too cold for ice cream."
"Well, get over it!" Ginny exclaimed, now distracted. After a thoughtful perusal of the menu, she leaned in to the window. "Cinnamon twist for me! And – What, Malfoy? Oh! Chocolate for him." When they received their treats and Ginny tried to return his change, he waved her off.
"Keep it. Use it to by yourself a muzzle."
"Oh, you are so funny," said Ginny, settling down at one of the outside tables with Draco. After enjoying a few amazing bites, she sucked on her spoon before she pulled it out and pointed at Draco next to her. "I really do want a job, Malfoy."
"You're not good enough at anything to have a job," he told her lightly, watching people on the streets.
"I am at least eighty-million times better than you are everything," she informed him, spooning more ice cream into her mouth.
"Well, the terms of your newfound freedom are that I'm with you in public," he told her, shifting in her direction. "So until that is lifted, you're actually still under supervision."
Ginny groaned around her spoon before she jabbed it aggressively into her ice cream. "Why is this taking so long? My brothers got to do whatever they wanted within just a few months!"
Draco looked over at her with a smirk. "Well, obviously, they still think you're a danger. And so until you can convince them you're not, you'll need to be watched." He paused. "In other words," he said plaintively, "You're going to need to get better at acting."
Ginny thought this over. "So you mean then," she said, edging closer as her eyes twinkled, "you realize now that I am always going to be a threat?"
Draco rolled his eyes a bit, but the effect was muted by his ice cream spoon in his mouth. He dropped the spoon into his cup and observed her with something dangerously close to appreciation. "I'm saying they would be unwise to underestimate you."
Ginny placed her chin in her hands and gave him a real smile, but softer than her others.
"Yes," she agreed quietly. "That is true."
Of course, a trip to Diagon Alley would not have been complete without a trip to George's shop.
Sneaking up behind him, Ginny waited until George was bent over, fixing some items on a shelf, before she popped him in the ribs and caused him to jump. "Agh – Ginny!" George let out a whooping yell and scooped Ginny up into his arms. "What're you doing here? You can go out now?"
"Yeah, I mean, you know," Ginny looked over her shoulder at Draco who slipped his hands into the pockets of his robes and greeted George with a nod. "With Malfoy, but yeah, I can visit now!"
"That's great," George said, hugging her close again. "When can I exploit you for free labor?"
"Soon," Ginny promised with a laugh. "I promise."
Draco rolled his eyes. "You just said you wanted to work for gold!"
"Whatever, Malfoy, it's a family business!" Ginny said, before twirling in her spot, delighted to see that George's store was quite busy. The shelves were full, people were moving about, talking, laughing, looking over the shelves. Sure, it wasn't the same as the joke shop, but she was thrilled to see George so productive and successful.
The lone twin showed them all around the store, although Draco had already seen most of it. Vera appeared, wearing an adorable little salesperson apron she'd made herself. She still couldn't speak much English, but she was more than happy to hug both Ginny and Draco, the latter of whom patted her shoulder awkwardly. Even through the language barrier, it was obvious she was a happy, bubbly person.
"We should get going," said Draco a short while later, and even though Ginny made a loud, aggrieved noise, she knew he was right. They'd been out all day. After giving George and Vera a reluctant good-bye, the two departed for the end of the street, which was slowly thinning as shoppers and workers returned home.
The sun had already dropped behind the tallest buildings of Diagon Alley, and it gave the streets a settled look of grey. As Draco and Ginny prepared to depart, Draco looked across a crowd of people. He paused, and when Ginny followed his gaze, she saw Lavender Brown emerge from a shop, carrying a tiny baby swaddled in a blanket. A moment later, a tall thin boy she recognized as Theodore Nott Jr. emerged behind her. After helping Lavender adjust her cloak more snugly around her shoulders, Theo put a hand on Lavender's back and they turned to walk away. Ginny thought she saw a glimpse of a smile on Lavender's face, but she couldn't be sure.
Looking back at Draco, Ginny's lips quirked. He offered her his hand for the Apparition, and she took it.
As the days passed, Ginny found herself more and more relaxed in the manor. Draco seemed to stay at home more often, handling business from the comfort of his own room as opposed to Diagon Alley, and Ginny found herself strangely glad for his company. On the days when he was gone for hours, Ginny found herself looking at the clock often as she waited for him to return.
This, Ginny told herself firmly, was only because she had no one else to talk to.
"What was your favorite subject in school?"
Draco considered Ginny's question from where he was perched just opposite her on the plush window seat. The pair sat facing one another, their backs against opposite panes and their legs extended, so that Draco's longer limbs rested next to Ginny's. On the other side of the frosted glass, the cool dark night showed only the occasional glimpses of heavy snowfall outside.
"Alchemy," he answered after only a moment.
Ginny stared in disbelief before letting out a laugh. "Alchemy, seriously? That's like – potions but with math."
"And what's wrong with that?" he asked, amused.
"Seems really hard. And I don't even remember that being offered at Hogwarts."
"You could only take it as a sixth or seventh year," he told her. "And you'd be terrible at it."
"Oh?" asked Ginny with an eyeroll. "You think I'm not smart, Malfoy?"
"You're not patient," he corrected her. The two took turns reaching in a bowl of caramel popcorn, their fingers brushing occasionally. "Alchemy projects can take years, decades even. You'd lose interest."
"So is that what you would've done for a job?" Ginny asked curiously. "If you'd been born a plebian who had to work for a living?"
"Maybe," Draco said. "Good thing I'm rich. What was your favorite subject?"
Ginny crunched on some popcorn as she thought. "Transfiguration, I think. But I wouldn't have done something like that for work. If I could've had any job, I'd be a professional Quidditch player." She grinned, and Draco rolled his eyes.
"Let me guess. The Holyhead Harpies."
"You bet your ass," she said with a confident nod. "It's what I always wanted. I'd be their Captain, too. Focused and driven, like Oliver Wood, but a little less crazy. Because he was right mental, sometimes."
"I remember," said Draco dryly. After a few minutes of silence, he said looked over Ginny's face and said, "You can still do that, you know. The British Quidditch League hasn't disappeared or anything."
Ginny blinked, looking surprised. Then she crunched on more of their snack and looked out of the window. "Huh," she said. "I guess I just – I hadn't really thought about it in so long. I keep forgetting."
"Forgetting what?" he asked, curious.
Ginny looked over at him. "The future."
She leaned her forehead against the cold glass of the window. "That there even is one." The coolness of the glass seeped into her skin, and Ginny reached up, drawing a fingertip along the window so that it made a line in the misty glass. Draco didn't have anything to say to that, so he leaned back his head and looked with Ginny out of the window, out on to the snow-covered grounds. A strange ease settled over them both, and it was enough to lull Draco into a relaxed pose where he sat. After several minutes of comfortable silence, in which the only sound was the crackling of the nearby fire, Ginny nudged his leg.
"You're falling asleep," she said with a short laugh. "Go to bed, Malfoy."
Grunting in agreement, Draco slid down from the window seat, and Ginny did the same.
"Good night," he said with a yawn.
"Good night," Ginny replied as she shut the door to her bedroom, only just realizing what she'd said when her door closed with a click. She paused, standing in the darkness of her room, hand still on the door.
Then she let her grip fall away from the handle and climbed into her bed to sleep.
Out of all of her brothers, it was, surprisingly, Percy who came to visit at the manor most often.
"My schedule is more relaxed than theirs," he told her a week after Ginny's first trip to Diagon Alley. "I'm technically a tax collector for the Ministry, so I often leave the office during work hours." Ginny made a face.
"Ew, Percy. Of all the awful jobs you could have taken."
"What's wrong with collecting taxes?" he asked, astonished. "I'm doing a civic duty!"
"Yeah, but like, are you taking taxes for that horrible marriage law? Because if so, that's awful."
Percy sighed. "I collect all the taxes I'm told to, Ginny. And so far I haven't had to take anyone's last Knut, so please, do try and be supportive." Ginny tried her best to fix her facial expression in a more amicable manner, but it was hard. Draco was right. She needed to work on her acting.
Draco wasn't in the room – he was actually with his mother in the foyer – so Percy took that opportunity, as he seemed to do often, to ask about his treatment of Ginny. "Is he abusing you at all?"
"No, Percy," said Ginny, exasperated.
"I'm only asking," said her brother. "I want to know how he's treating you."
"He's fine," she said. "Really. Sometimes, he's not even a complete prat."
Percy seemed to think on this for a moment, and Ginny felt him looking at her necklace, the golden 'W' hanging on a delicate chain around her neck. "Do you think…" Percy paused. "Do you think he might actually be feeling some… remorse?" When Ginny's brows furrowed, he leaned forward and continued in a whisper, "Do you think you might be persuading him to come around to our side?"
Ginny's first thought, much to her horror, was that there was no 'our side.' But she quickly banished the thought. Of course there was still a fight on. It was just slow and hidden. Subtle. And so far, she had contributed nothing, but apparently, Percy was doing something, even if he wouldn't tell her what.
Ginny observed Percy's eager expression. "No," she said with a shake of her head, "No, he's not – it's not like that. He's still the same blood-purist, egotistical elitist he always was." She paused. "He's just… nicer about it, that's all."
Percy looked disappointed, but he simply shrugged and leaned back. "Well, if you think there's a chance he might ever help us… You should tell me. Immediately."
Ginny sighed heavily and pushed herself up from the couch. "Whatever, Percy. Malfoy doesn't think like that."
"So he's still loyal to Voldemort, then?"
Ginny picked up a quill and pressed the sharp end into the pad of one of her fingers. "As loyal as he's always been," she answered stoically.
"Hm," said Percy again, before hopping up. "Well, I need to be going. Be sure to write me if anything happens." With that, he left rather abruptly, and Ginny was left alone with her thoughts until Draco returned.