DISCLAIMER: I pretty much don't own anything here; J.K. Rowling does - and George R.R. Martin for one reference I made!
A/N: WOW. Ok... It's been AWHILE since I updated this! I have a good reason though - I had a heart transplant (exactly) 4 months ago, so I've been recovering from that! And before that... I was obviously sick.. so yeah. My goal is to get back on track and finish this story! Sorry if this chapter may not be up to par with the others - I've been staring at it for days, but I have to move beyond this chapter to get through the rest!
three. lessons.
For all of the complaints Ginny had about the circumstances at the Manor, she could not complain about the luxurious bed she was given to sleep in. She wasn't sure if it was because she was so exhausted from yesterday's ordeal or if the bed proved to be so comfortable that she had fallen asleep so quickly. The morning gong had gone off, signaling that there were forty five minutes until breakfast would be on the table.
"I could get used to these delicious meals, I have to admit," Ginny greeted her roommate who had just returned from the bathroom. The red-head extended her arms above her head, yawning and stretching.
"Agreed! It beats my shoddy attempts to make a meal any day," Lena replied as she got out her morning clothes. "I regret not taking homemaking classes at Beauxbatons. I couldn't be arsed about it then, thinking I wouldn't need any of those types of skills… Apparently I forgot I should have learned to take care of myself at the very least!"
"Rather a strange twist of fate that a potioneer can't combine ingredients to make something nontoxic," Ginny commented, giggling.
Lena sighed as she pulled her top over her head, "Irony at its finest. I am rather well-versed in numerous types of poisons and innocuous concoctions, however."
Following her friend's example, Ginny went over to the wardrobe to pull together something presentable to wear. Yesterday's outfit was not very well received by Narcissa and she wanted to rectify that. The only problem was that she had such few clothes that were presentable. Aside from the couple of weddings and Ministry functions, Ginny didn't really buy elaborate outfits. She was saved by the lime green robes that were a part of a Healer's uniform for most of her days. The incredibly expansive wardrobe only proved that point. It felt almost barren with her few garments carefully hung up. She was sure she could reach all the way to the back of an alternate universe. Picking out a fresh blouse and skirt, Ginny brushed her hair into a simple bun. She was going to start off the morning right, even if today was going to be a challenge.
When she got down to the long breakfast table, she felt so plain in comparison to the other witches' wardrobes. Ginny couldn't help but pitifully sigh at the sight of the other girls' clothes. Though her clothes were tastefully appropriate, they couldn't compare to the expensive brands and styles the others had. Any of her other dresses would have been too "low cut" or "racy" like her Aunt Muriel would chastise.
Ginny and Lena occupied a seemingly shunned expanse of the long dining table. Many of the girls kept giving Ginny (and Lena by mere association) unsatisfactory glances throughout their meal. She couldn't help but roll her eyes. Surely the group had gotten over her seemingly extraordinary presence in the Conservatory?
In between bites of her bangers and mash, Ginny muttered, "I feel like I'm back in Hogwarts or something. These buzzing bees can't seem to quiet down."
Lena shot the current offenders a dirty look and ushered Ginny to wave them off. "Forget them, Gin. It's evidently too much for their tiny brains to process..." With a growl, Lena added to an outraged pudgy girl, "Yes, I'm looking at you, you cow! Focus on your own damn breakfast!"
Ginny sighed discontentedly as she forced herself to finish her breakfast. Lunch would not be for a while, and she really needed to keep her strength up if she was to deal with Narcissa's wrath, the catty girls' attitude, and Draco Malfoy. She shot a customary haughty glance in the direction of Draco.
Once again, he was laughing and enjoying himself a jolly good conversation with his blokes. He looked so well rested and at ease. It was evident that this was his natural habitat and he thrived in it. Ginny audibly growled, clenching her fork tightly in her fist. It was completely unfair that he seemed unfazed by yesterday's predicament. Why was he so nonchalant about their strange arrangement? It bothered her even more that it didn't bother him. Stupid, strange, sadistic Slytherins. She gave him another look, shooting imaginary daggers out of her eyes, before returning to her morning meal.
After breakfast, the class filed into a large room filled with desks row by row. The room clashed with its decorations and current function. Amidst the ornamental wallpaper and ornery paintings was a large blackboard with wheels in the front of the room with a teacher's desk. Name tags were hovering above each desk, indicating where everyone was supposed to seat.
"I had no idea we were back in primary," Lena said, breezing by Ginny as found her seat. Luckily, they were sitting close to each other. Unluckily, her partner was sitting diagonally behind her. She didn't like having her back to him. It was like letting her guard down. Who knows what he would do to try to ruin this for her? She had only heard of the horrible Potions classes her brother and friends had to deal with in company of Malfoy; she could only begin to imagine what he could do as a full-fledged wizard.
The morning passed by uneventfully to Ginny's surprise. It seemed that the mornings the students would be taught various lessons on the topic of the week. For the first week of lessons, Narcissa had decided to provide an overview of Pure Blood Society, informing the class up to current events. She also lightly delved into an overview of some of the rituals, occasions, and etiquette of the tight knit community. Much to her disbelief, some of the information proved to be interesting. She learned interesting facts about her own families as well as the families of some of her friends. Mrs. Malfoy was a formidable professor, exhibiting a wide breadth of knowledge about Wizarding history and sociology. She was very organized in her teaching, her points well-organized and articulated clearly to the class.
Ginny supposed this wasn't so bad. They would be breaking for a light lunch in twenty minutes time. The daily session would reconvene in the afternoon for the practical portion of the day. The class would put into practice what they had been learning throughout the week. At the end of the week, there was an examination to test the students on the material. While Ginny Weasley was no Hermione Granger, she knew she could excel in this regard so long as she worked and studied hard…
…If only she didn't have the stupidest partner ever. Ginny could get full marks in all of their written exams, but they were also evaluated for how well each partnership cooperated as well as evaluated for their teamwork and collaboration. She couldn't imagine any of their practical exams going smoothly when Malfoy was her partner. Perhaps his lazy Slytherin tendencies would kick in and she would be able to deal with the brunt of the burden. While she didn't appreciate a partner who didn't do their work, Ginny would rather have control over the situation than let Draco Malfoy muck it all up.
Before she knew it, the class was dismissed for lunch much to the relief of everyone in the room. The determined former Gryffindor quickly shoved her belongings in her bag and made a beeline for the dining room. Breakfast had seemed like an eternity ago!
Draco was quite relieved when they were finally dismissed for lunch. He had avoided the Weasel the entire morning mostly because whenever he dared to speak, he infuriated her. Truth be told, whenever she opened her mouth, it infuriated him too. Draco would instead make matters worse with a snide remark, or worse laugh at her. It irritated him to no end that someone would be so ungrateful to be paired up with him that he kept overlooking the fact that he needed to be nice to her for the sake of the bet.
Unable to figure out a clever way to appease her and solve his own dilemma, he decided it was wisest to back off for the time being. It was best to quietly observe and study the situation at hand so he could create an informed decision. However, the morning session has been so boring. All of the things his mother was explaining to the class were things he had already known. He had heard this many times before; his own family tree intersected many times into this convoluted timeline of pure blood society. Instead he decided to doodle on his parchment, and when that did little to amuse him he focused on trying to irritate Weasley.
Try as he might, Draco kept trying to distract the Weaselette, but she wouldn't budge. He leaned in and tried to whisper and even resorted to throwing up crumpled up balls of parchment but she ignored everything. Instead she intently listened to every word coming out of his mother's mouth, jotting every so often. He was mildly impressed; her notes seemed quite detailed and neat. She had eerily become a bit more like Granger in her work habits.
After all of his failed attempts, he retreated to staring out of the window for the rest of the morning, effectively tuning out Narcissa. He wished his mother hadn't been so bent on making sure that she wasn't showing him favoritism and ensuring he comply with each portion of the program. Sure, now she decides to exhibit some tough love after being mummy's little boy, he thought wryly.
Even if he was single at the right moment, he didn't really know why he was even in this room in the first place. Draco had had relations of some kind with most of the women in the room, but he had to comply with his mother's wishes. Though he was the sole heir to the entire Malfoy estate and the head of the house financially, his mother would always truly be in control. He tried to cheer himself up by remembering that there were some decent looking girls here and he could use a fun distraction.
As Draco settled down next to Blaise for lunch, he breathed a sigh of relief. Weaving a hand through his hair, he stole a quick look at Ginny. She actually seemed a bit peppy after the morning session, animatedly talking to her friend. It surprised him. Whenever he interacted with her, she was rude, brash, and ready to hex him at the first opportunity.
"That was a bunch of codswollop, wasn't it?" Blaise said, interrupting Draco's thoughts as he handed him the platter of sandwiches.
Taking a sandwich for himself, Draco replied, "Here, here. Half of the class probably knew all of that like the back of their hand."
"Apparently your partner didn't," Blaise responded, gesturing towards Ginny. "Say, how is the attempt at reforming Eliza Doolittle?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "I haven't even spoken to her since last night. The bint stomped on my foot!"
"Malfoy, knowing you, you probably deserved it," Blaise answered sagely, clapping his friend on the back.
"Here, here!" Maxwell interjected, joining the conversation. "The sand in the hourglass is slipping away, mate. You best get on with our bet."
"Thanks. For. The. Reminder," Draco spat out, gritting his teeth. Bloody idiot, always stating the obvious.
Eventually their conversation shifted topics and lunch began to pass on peacefully. Draco finally relaxed as he dug into his meal. Just as they were finishing, he overheard some of the commotion that was beginning at the end of the table.
There was Daphne Greengrass and her makeshift pack of minions. Draco smirked at the image before him. With her old friend Pansy Parkinson absent from the program, she felt obligated to take on the queen bee role. Her second-hand was the more mousey Tracey Davis, who happily indulged in order to meet Daphne's demands. A couple of other girls had also sat with them, forming what looked like the former Slytherin Horde from Hogwarts.
Daphne threw back her cascading blonde hair and said audibly, "Did you see what that Weasley pauper was wearing today? How sad it must be to barely be able to put two knuts together for a presentable outfit."
The girls all agreed, nodding their heads gravely. Satisfied with her cronies, Daphne continued, "Where does she shop anyway? The rubbish bin? Those designs and patterns are from a decade ago, at the very least."
The girls continued to giggle maliciously and make jokes at Ginny's expense. Every so often they turned to make sure she could hear their very loud conversation. Draco was amazed to notice that while Ginny's face was turning red, she had not made her way over to them to hex the daylights out of the women.
"…It's a shame Potter dumped her. I actually kind of admired her for that catch. A woman after my own heart," Daphne said, dramatically putting a hand to her heart. "She saw the galleon signs behind that name and went after it."
"I can't blame Potter though. He probably realized what a hopeless situation he was in. I'm surprised he came to his senses," she continued, as the girls began to get up to make their way up to their afternoon session. "Poor bastard. Must have had to support all of those ragamuffin Weasleys."
As they passed by Ginny and Lena, who were silent, Tracey quipped gravely, "I heard she had to take a job as a caretaker at St. Mungo's to support herself. She's probably used to all of that sweeping and cleaning though." The laughter of the girls rebounded as they walked out.
Draco noticed that by now Ginny was getting ready to charge the women. Luckily Lena tackled the red-head just in time, preventing her from doing something incredibly stupid.
"LET GO OF ME, LENA! LET ME AT THEM!" Ginny shouted from underneath her friend, struggling to break from her grasp. "When I see that Daphne I'm going to rip all of that blonde hair out of her scalp!"
Draco sighed. Daphne was laying it on incredibly thick. Eventually, however, the wheels in his brain began to turn. A wicked smile slowly began to appear on his face. Perhaps, he thought, he could use this fodder to his advantage.
That second session of the day became a crash course in introductions. As the class haphazardly gathered into yet another large room in the Manor, Narcissa began with her instruction. Weaving in and out of the class, she began, "Today, we will begin with the simplest of tasks. In proper circles, you are to greet each other with respect. There are no meek handshakes or murmurs of hello."
Narcissa returned to the front of the room, and looked at all of her students firmly. "As such, the men will be practicing their firmest of handshakes and bowing. The women," she shifted to look at them, "will practice their curtseys."
Ginny snorted. She couldn't remember the last time she had actually curtseyed for someone. In fact, she was pretty sure she had never done that before. "Why can't we practice handshakes too? I have a fantastic handshake," she murmured.
Lena smirked, still keeping her eye on the demonstration in front of them. Narcissa was demonstrating with Kendra the importance of one's grip during the process of the handshake. She then shifted gears to demonstrate the second maneuver.
"All of the women of this pseudo-court will be curtseying to the audience at the Ball. A curtsey is performed by one of lower social ranking to one who has a higher senior standing. While we do not participate in front of the Queen anymore," Narcissa paused, looking visibly unpleased at the thought. "You all must still respect the higher ranking members of society that you will be introduced to."
"Kendra will demonstrate the maneuver for us," Madame Malfoy gestured to her assistant. "Remember to carefully grab the hems of your skirts-" Kendra followed the directions by grabbing the ends of her skirt, "and gently bend." She swept her right leg behind the other, gently bending in the direction of the older woman.
"Now, practice your curtsey and bows with each other. We will be walking around the room to assess and provide assistance if needed," Waving her hands, she indicated to the class to start the lesson.
Ginny felt silly curtseying to the girls around her but acquiesced to Narcissa's requests. Just when she thought she was beginning to get the hang out of it, Narcissa came towards her. Unconsciously, she took a gulp of air. Having to curtsey to Narcissa was very uncomfortable. She had seen Hannah and Lena get through the interaction smoothly and hoped for the best. But, Ginny felt every bit the pauper she had been called earlier as she bowed in front of Mrs. Malfoy. Narcissa towered over her regally with her well-groomed appearance and wispy robes. In an alternate reality, Narcissa would played the part of the queen with ease; her imperial attitude was on display at that very moment.
They shifted gears eventually, moving onto the second part of today's lesson. "We will now be moving onto practicing our posture. You must never slouch when in proper company. It looks very rude and unbecoming. It shows a lack of confidence in yourself, which is a very unattractive quality," Mrs. Malfoy explained, looking as if she was smelling something foul. Standing tall, with her chin upward elongating her graceful neck, she elegantly floated past the class.
Narcissa made her way to the boys' section to make sure they were following the demonstration, leaving the girls on their own for the time being. Carefully making sure neither Narcissa nor Kendra were looking, Daphne seized the opportunity. Pushing her way through some of the girls, she began to walk horribly, unable to move in a straight line.
"This is how a frumpy Weasley walks," Daphne stated, laughing wickedly. She hunched over and mused her hair, putting a vacant yet pained expression on her face. "Look, I'm Ginny Weasley, and I wear atrocious, outdated clothes. I can barely keep the roof over my head!" She bumbled to and fro', delighting in the laughter from a couple of the other girls.
Morgan Cornwall meanly quipped, "Just look at that ridiculous red hair. It looks like scraggly copper wires are shooting out of her head!" She pointed in the offender's direction.
"And those freckles, what a shame! You would have thought that she would have gotten that fixed by now. She's an adult, not a pig-tailed adolescent!" Tracey chimed in.
"The Weasel lot can barely afford to put food on the table let alone purchase custom glamour charms, Tracey," Daphne replied, crossing her arms as she settled in between the others.
Ginny snatched the heavy book on her head that was used to calibrate her balance. She was livid. How dare all of these girls continue to disparage her name?! Especially when she was a few feet away? She whirled around and bounded towards the girls.
"At least I didn't have to buy my face, Daphne," Ginny retaliated. A crowd was now beginning to form around the new rivals.
"If you did, I hope you kept the receipt because you were cheated," Daphne retorted.
"Wait a minute…" Ginny squinted her eyes, closely examining the offending girl's facial features. "Say, is this your fourth nose?"
Daphne gasped dramatically, looking scandalized at the insinuation. She clapped a manicured hand around her nose.
"How dare you!" Tracey pushed her way through, interjecting. "Daphne's incredibly sensitive about her nasal issues! She has a very serious medical condition and had to have a world class Healer from Luxembourg Flooed in!" Tracey sympathetically put an arm around Daphne's shoulder, comforting her overly distraught friend.
"She has a disease, alright," Lena quipped. "It's called narcissism."
As if she heard the mention of her name, whistling sparks of electric blue flew over the crowd, silencing them all. All of the young women turned to see a disapproving Narcissa looking back at them. She cleared her throat, "That is all quite enough, ladies! We will not have any sort of this behavior during class. It completely undermines the mission of this program!"
While the rest of the class settled back into formation into practicing their walks and posture, Ginny noticed a certain blond laughing at the situation. She didn't miss when Draco elbowed Maxwell in the ribs, gesturing to the scene that had just happened. As they both laughed, Ginny desperately wanted to wipe foolish grin off of Malfoy's face. Seeing the book in her hands, she smiled evilly.
"Oi, Malfoy!" Ginny shouted, the book in her hand. Bewildered, he automatically turned at the sound of his name.
SMACK.
That was the sound of Malfoy's face meeting the front cover of the book that was formerly in Ginny's hands. She couldn't think of a better way to remove that silly expression off of his face. Dusting her hands off from a job well done, she cheerfully walked away, taking great pleasure in hearing the groans of Draco Malfoy behind her.
Draco sank into an armchair in front of one of several fireplaces in the room, goblet in hand, with a deep sigh. The students were provided with a communal meeting place to enjoy their evenings. He was not in the mood to socialize and mingle with the others; it was time to relax. As his eyes watched the flames dance in the hearth, he couldn't help but be reminded of a certain red-headed witch. This had been the longest first day ever, and Draco could thank his lovely partner for that. Her dramatic cat fight had not only cost them demerits from their evaluation, but a lengthy lecture from his mother.
Of course, that didn't last long as Max and Blaise were not far behind. Draco groaned inwardly as they settled into the nearby armchairs. As much as he enjoyed the company of his best friends, he was in a foul mood.
"How's your nose doing, Malfoy?" Maxwell asked with a smirk, referring to the day's events.
"Just fine, no thanks to you," Draco responded icily. "Stupid girl is already costing us points and the week has barely started!"
"It's your own fault you were laughing like an idiot," Maxwell responded testily.
Draco's eyes narrowed. "And who was the cackling buffoon next to me? That book could have easily been thrown in your face."
"My last name's not Malfoy," Max replied coolly.
Before Draco could retaliate with an insult, Blaise quickly interjected. "Say, has anyone read the results from yesterday's winged horse races?"
Giving Max one last steely glance, he turned to Blaise grimly. "It was a dull and uneventful race."
Blaise raised an eyebrow quizzically at his friend. Evidently not taking Draco's word for it, he hastily snatched a copy of the Daily Prophet from a nearby classmate's hand, ignoring their cries of objection. Straightening out the paper, he flipped through the pages until he found the Sports section. Draco saw Blaise's dark eyes grow wider as his eyes traveled back and forth across the page.
Throwing the paper aside, Blaise cried triumphantly, "Ha! See, I told you I'd win! Now, be a good lad and cough up the ten galleons you owe me."
"You just got lucky! My poor dear Hestia got influenza and was unable to race this week!" Draco sniffed. His prize-winning winged horse was having a perfect streak up until she fell ill.
Blaise gave him a smug smile as Draco reluctantly stuffed the gold coins into the palm of his hands. Even if they were arguing, a Malfoy always repays his debts. Draco rolled his eyes as Blaise made a dramatic show of carefully counting the small stack of coins in his grubby paw.
"That, my friend, is just a technicality," Blaise responded as he pocketed the change.
"Doesn't matter! My horse always places first," Draco retorted.
"Just because you finish first doesn't mean you're any good," an annoyingly female voice said behind him. "I'm sure you've heard that before."
Draco whirled around to see Ginny Weasley, glaring at him smugly, arms crossed in front of her. Just perfect, he thought, as if this evening was going so well already. He was in no mood to deal with Weasley. Who did she think she was getting into the middle of a wizards' bet?
"You must be confusing me with your scarhead boyfriend," Draco recounted. Standing up, he moved behind the armchair, standing face to face with her.
"Oh, don't flatter yourself Malfoy," Ginny sneered. "And for the umpteenth time, I am not Harry Potter's girlfriend anymore."
Draco couldn't stand that sneer on her face. That was his sneer! No one was supposed to be able to use that against him. This was the final straw. She had been pressing his buttons since the moment they were forced to communicate, and it was time for a taste of her own medicine. "On second thought, that's probably why he's not with you any longer. Couldn't get the key into that lock, if you know what I mean, and had to look elsewhere," Draco responded haughtily, taking a swig of his drink. Instead of hearing the usual sniggers of his supporting friends, he was met with silence. In fact, the whole common room had gone deafeningly quiet. Many of the women were giving him disapproving glares while the men gave him looks of pity. Apparently he may have crossed some sort of line and everyone knew. Except him. Where was he when the co-ed handbook was given out to everyone?
Ginny, to her credit, was staying pretty calm. He had expected she would have gone for her wand and hexed his precious hair off of his scalp, but she stood firm. However, her brown eyes were swirling with anger. Arms dropped at the waist, her clenched fists were turning white, nearly trembling. Draco had struck a nerve with Weasley. Good, he thought. Serves her right for everything she did today.
And then it happened in slow motion. He felt his grasp grow smaller around the goblet as it began to disintegrate. The goblet shattered into dozens of tiny pieces, creating a mini explosion of juice. The shards of what was once his goblet lay strewn around his feet, and pumpkin juice splashed all over his face, dripping down to the front of his spotless shirt. Draco yelped as he jumped back, startled by the contents that were stinging his eyes. He heard the click clack of heels disappearing off in the distance while he was met with snickers from the crowd.
After fiddling around blindly in his pockets, he finally found his wand and cleaned himself up. Looking around, Ginny was nowhere to be found. He could still feel the prying eyes of the students boring into him. "Oi! There's nothing to see here! Go get back to your uneventful lives!" Draco shouted and people quickly turned away. The room began to buzz again with conversation as if nothing happened. He sighed deeply and sank back into his armchair once again, warily running a hand through his hair.
"Draco, you sure know how to charm the ladies, don't you?" Max said, clapping his friend's back.
Blaise looked at him carefully, "You know you're going to be paying for that one for days to come."
Draco said nothing and instead stared long and hard into the fire. He didn't care he was mean to her. She needed to put back in her place. What did it matter anyway? Ginny Weasley was never going to accept the fact that they had to work together and neither could he. They were like oil and water, unwilling to mix. It was a match made in hell, and they were both doomed.
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