Ginny didn't bother getting up from George's bed when he let himself into his dorm that night, just raised her head to glance at him. "It work?"

She had been conjuring paper nifflers and they were burrowing into the covers around her.

"Too well," said George. He looked around the room casually. Most of his dorm-mates were in bed already, some of them looking put out that Ginny was lounging around while they were trying to sleep. "Common Room's clear," he commented.

Ginny nodded and rolled off the bed, gathering her little niffler transfigurations and tucking them into various pockets in her pyjamas.

They sank into the deep chairs of the Common Room. Ginny leant forward, freckled face lit up with curiosity. She studied him for a few long moments before creasing her nose. "I can't tell. Did it go well or badly?"

George lifted his shoulders and let them drop. "I'm as in the dark as you are," he said. "I won, if that makes a difference. I thrashed her utterly."

Ginny grinned and bounced in her chair. "Brilliant. I was worried for a while that you wouldn't be able to keep up."

"Hey!" protested George, scowling at her. Millicent might have been incredibly talented, but Ginny was his sister, her faith in him should have been unwavering.

Ginny shrugged, not seeming to care that she had wounded George soundly. "It doesn't matter," she said. "You won. So tell me everything."

George dropped back in his seat and told Ginny about his night as she let her paper nifflers crawl between her fingers.

She laughed when he told her about the conversation he'd had with their father and nodded her approval. "Good. You're in the lead now. Don't let her get it back."

"I don't know that there's going to be a game to play after tonight," said George.

Ginny frowned at him. "I don't follow."

"She freaked out," said George. "I don't mean publicly. She was still perfectly civil, but she wouldn't let me walk her back to Hogwarts."

Ginny pursed her lips, eyes narrowing. "That's hardly surprising," she said. "I wouldn't walk back with someone who'd stroked my tail and had that creepy conversation with their dad about me."

"She demanded that her parents escort her back," said George. "I'm pretty sure she threatened them."

"So what?" asked Ginny.

"So she's done," said George. "She's not going to take this prank further."

Ginny frowned and sat back in her seat, chewing her thumb-nail.

The portrait swung open and Hermione stepped in. She yelped when she saw them and stepped back before squinting and relaxing.

"Oh," she said. "I'm surprised you're both up." Instead of heading for the stairs, she came into the Common Room and took another seat nearby. "I…ah…heard that you and Millicent had dinner tonight," she said, not quite making eye contact with George. She'd been behaving strangely since Millicent had tricked George into this whole Yule Ball thing. Was probably still mad about the supposed prank that George was playing on Millicent.

He should probably tell her that the whole thing was a prank; but not one orchestrated by him or by Fred. The perverse part of him that delighted in teasing made an executive decision not to. "Yup," said George, grinning at her. "Worst night ever."

Hermione scowled at him. "You're not usually this nasty," she said, voice flat and cold.

George shrugged. "She's Slytherin."

"She has feelings!" Hermione exclaimed. She got so worked up about things that George couldn't resist pushing further.

"Obviously," he said. "You'd hardly ask someone without feelings out for a prank. They wouldn't be crushed and humiliated at all and all of that effort would have gone to waste. No, Millicent doesn't lack feelings; she lacks brains. I can see no way in which this won't be hilarious."

"George," said Ginny, reproving because she didn't like him teasing Hermione even when it was so damn fun.

Hermione glared at him. "Can't you see how awful what you're doing is? Not just that you're doing this in front of the whole school, but to bring her parents into it – to bring your parents into it – to let her think she has that much of a chance. George, it's wrong."

"But funny," said George. "And it's not as though I'm doing it to Eloise Midgeon or Luna Lovegood."

"As though that's worse!" exclaimed Hermione. She'd flushed a blotchy red and was becoming incoherent with fury. "The Slytherins are very attractive…I mean, the Slytherins possess some very attractive traits – if you'd just give Millicent a chance!"

"Have you seen her make-up?" asked George.

Hermione stood up so abruptly that the paper nifflers scattered to the safety of Ginny's sleeves. "I suggest you rethink this," she said in the tone of someone giving an ultimatum.

George laughed. "I'll take it under advisement."

Hermione looked as though she was going to say more, but must have realised that it wouldn't make any difference because she tossed her hair over her shoulder and stormed out of the Common Room.

Ginny waited until she was gone and made a face. "Honestly, you don't have the capacity to be playing more than one game when you're up against Millicent," she said.

"Excuse me," said George coldly. "I'll have you know that I'm perfectly capable of running several difficult pranks simultaneously."

"Yeah? So what's your plan for dragging her back into the game?"

That was the question. George slumped back into his chair and glared into the fireplace. "I don't think I can. I scared her off; doesn't that mean I've won?"

Ginny snorted. "Are you kidding? She was well on her way to dragging you to the Ball. She managed to keep you locked into this prank for days; you've lost her on the first night."

"Say now, that's not fair," protested George.

"It is fair," said Ginny. "The Ball is in three days. If you don't get her there, you are not a third of the prankster that she is."

George left the fireplace alone and transferred his glare to his sister. "That's a pretty big expectation."

"I think Millicent would manage it if your roles were reversed," said Ginny airily.

George growled at her. It didn't help that she was right. Millicent had been keeping the twins trapped into her prank with ease before George had figured out what she was playing at.

Ginny grinned, setting her penetrating gaze on him. "Ask for help," she said. "You know you need it."

George sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he considered the matter. He did need it. He'd seen Millicent's expression when she'd gotten back to the table. He had freaked her the hell out. After that he'd be lucky to catch a glimpse of her during meal times; getting closer would be an impossibility. "Yeah," he said. "Help me out, Gin."

Ginny squealed in delight and threw herself back in her armchair, hugging herself and likely crushing all of her nifflers.

#

He woke up the next morning when Ginny pounced on him, her knee connecting solidly with his stomach.

He shoved her so hard she tumbled off the bed, but she was laughing when she clambered to her feet.

"Hermione's going to invite you on a walk today," she whispered, leaning in close enough that no one else would hear. "Don't give in too easily, but do give in."

"That's…" George pushed his hair out of his face and squinted at his sister blearily. "Have you got it figured out already?"

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "As though it was difficult. Don't screw up."

Then she twirled and headed for the door, disappearing through it and down the stairs.

George was eating lunch in the Great Hall when Hermione slipped onto the bench by him. He'd been right about Millicent. He'd not seen her all day, and she wasn't in the Great Hall for lunch. Hadn't been there for breakfast either.

"Good afternoon, Hermione. Forgiven me already?" he asked, reaching for a cinnamon star.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, giving him a hard look. "You're not the least bit sorry, and I can't forgive you until you are."

George paused, turning to frown at her. "That sounds awfully like a threat."

"Don't flatter yourself," said Hermione. "If you can't appreciate what Bulstrode is offering then it's not up to me to force it on you."

That didn't sound at all like Hermione. She usually tried to force all of her ethics on to other people.

"It isn't?" asked George.

Hermione glared at him. "I would like to talk to you about this though," she said. "For all you know you're making a huge mistake. You and Bulstrode could be fated. I mean, you don't know, do you? Sometimes people who you've always thought of as utter bitches turn out to be surprisingly – uhm – fascinating or something. You should give it a chance."

"No, no," said George. "I trust your judgement. If you've always thought of Bulstrode as an utter bitch then I'm not going to tempt fate with her."

Hermione looked disconcerted. "I've never thought of Millicent Bulstrode as a bitch," she said. "I've barely thought about her at all."

"What?" It was George's turn to be baffled. "You just said…"

Hermione held up a hand, shaking her head. "Stop trying to distract me," she said sharply. "I want to talk to you about this. Not here – anyone could listen in. Come for a walk with me after dinner. We'll have this out."

"I don't think…"

"George." Hermione's voice had all of the gravity of the Killing Curse and it shut George right up. "I'm telling you, not asking you. After dinner."

George grit his teeth and nodded sharply, bristling under the tone even though he knew that he was meant to ultimately give in. "It won't change anything," he protested.

"We'll see." Hermione didn't wait around to eat; sliding off the seat and stalking out of the Hall instead.

She had never had a fraction of this emotional investment in any of the other pranks he and Fred had played – and that was when they'd been conducting experiments on other students. It was odd that she was getting so irate over this. George wasn't sure what it was, but the girl seemed to be coming unhinged.