DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything remotely related to Harry Potter, or any other recognized entity here. All of that belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, etc. I'm broke, so there's no point in suing me.
five. manners.
Somehow, they made it through the remainder of the week without any serious injuries. But that wasn't to say that it was totally peaceful, either. Draco plucked off the first sweater, which was charcoal, that he saw hanging in his expansive wardrobe, quickly pairing it with navy pants. Swiping a comb through his hair several times, he buckled his watch around his wrist and grabbed his wand before heading downstairs.
Draco found his mates eagerly scarfing down their morning breakfast in the middle of the long common table. "Malfoy! Over here!" Maxwell hollered, motioning for him to come over. He settled down across from them helping himself to some eggs and toast,
"Well, good morning, sleeping beauty. Nearly missed breakfast," Max said as a way of greeting.
"If you got half the amount of sleep that I do to maintain these good looks, you'd probably look a tad less like an ogre," Draco replied before taking a bite of his breakfast. "But I guess you can't fix what's hereditary."
"Unlike you two, I don't need to rely on sleep for maintenance. All of this is au naturale," Blaise boasted.
Maxwell threw a biscuit at Blaise's head, which promptly bounced off and fell onto the bench in a crumbled mess. He stared down at it for a second before turning back to Draco. "So, how goes the partnership?"
"S'alright. She's no longer trying to maim me or ruin my wardrobe, which I take as a step in the right direction," Draco answered after swallowing his orange juice. "How's Daphne?"
Maxwell sighed. "You know Daphne. I just do what she tells me to do to avoid hearing her shrill voice yelling at me. How could such a fit girl be that foul?"
"Well, we all can't have a match made in heaven, like Zabini here," Draco glared at him.
Blaise grinned at the both of them. "What can I say? Sometimes you just get lucky. Fortunately for me, that's all of the time."
"It's completely unfair," Maxwell rolled his eyes. "He gets the perfect personality and looks, I get the banshee, and… well… you've got your work cut out for you. That Weasley's a feisty one. We're already a quarter of the way in and you've yet to make much progress on the bet."
Draco pondered over Maxwell's choice of word as the other two continued to talk. Feisty. He reflected on Ginny. He recalled that she surprisingly hadn't been made a prefect, despite her family's legacy of churning out supposed model students... according to Hogwarts' standards, anyway. So she probably had to have a bit of a mean streak. And that he had experienced full well, such as getting a full blast of her Bat Bogey hex during his fifth year or her numerous attempts to cause physical injury to his person just in the past couple of weeks. He still didn't know what to make of her; she was so hot and cold. Almost civil in one instance and completely livid in another. Draco was sure he had some part in that, but pushed that thought aside. Ginny Weasley was not the typical woman he was used to.
The gong resounded throughout the dining room, signaling that it was time for this week's lesson to begin.
"Good afternoon, class. Having discussed the socio-political ramifications of dining in Wizarding society during this morning's lecture, can anyone guess what this week's practical be about?" Narcissa asked the class. A few murmurs answered her back, but there was no definitive answer. She gave them all a grim stare, before continuing. "We will be focusing on table manners."
A collective groan rippled through the crowd, including one from Ginny. As far as she thought, she was pretty polite when eating, unlike her brothers. They always seemed like they were famished; always eager to scarf down their meal as if they were unsure of when the next one would happen, even though it was predictably several hours away.
As if answering Ginny's question, Narcissa answered, "It is more than just being polite. There is a greater nuance to table manners. It is important to know how to conduct oneself depending on the occasion. We will be focusing on the table setting. It provides the rubric for each situation. Generally, you will encounter three types of place settings. The first is the basic table setting, which is what you all have at every meal here. The second, the informal table setting, which consists of an informal three course meal. And finally, there is the formal place setting, for the formal six course dinner." She indicated each of the settings by holding up the corresponding amount of manicured fingers.
"Your manners can make the difference in socializing with a government official or conducting a business deal. Bad etiquette would generally offend your guest and could possibly cause negative consequences for you in the future…." Narcissa continued while Ginny began focusing on the different setting examples displayed at the front of the room.
Each setting had a different amount of forks and spoons and glasses. It was hard for Ginny to focus; they all seemed to blend together despite their different heights and positions. Narcissa went through each one demonstrating that this fork was the salad fork or that this was the dinner knife. Why did people need that many different utensils to eat food with anyhow?
"What a waste of utensils. I couldn't imagine washing that many forks and knives after every meal," Ginny muttered as she meticulously scribbled everything in her notebook.
"The vast majority of these people have never lifted a finger in their lives, let alone wash the dishes," Lena whispered back. It was true. Many of the students came from wealthy families, who generally had house elves to take care of such household chores.
After finishing the demonstration, Narcissa clasped her hands together. "I am sure you are all expecting our practical lesson to commence now. Instead, I will be dismissing you at this point." Cheers waved through the crowd. "Because," Narcissa continued, "we will be putting your new-found knowledge to the test during dinner." Another wave of groans washed over the class only to quickly die down at the steely glare given from Mrs. Malfoy.
"We look forward to evaluating you all this evening. Class is dismissed."
When Ginny walked into the dining room with Lena that evening, they were in awe of the change in atmosphere. Each seat had a formal place setting in front of it with the shiniest silverware. Decadent candelabras with pearls and crystals strung through were placed periodically every few chairs. Combined with the lovely flower centerpieces, the warmth of the candlelight and the pop of color of the flowers created a warm ambiance.
Ginny had to remind herself that this was still an exercise and not a time to relax and enjoy the splendor of the dining room. She had to make sure she was still on her guard and paying attention to the task at hand. With the bleak marks she had been getting in the past couple of weeks during the exercises, she needed to step her game up. Ginny tried to remind herself at the light at the end of the tunnel: Galleons. Galleons that would secure her future as an independent adult.
"Galleons. Galleons. Galleons," Ginny kept muttering as she seated herself in between Lena and Theodore Nott.
"See, I told you were mental, Weasley," Draco said as he settled down across from her. "Only nutters mutter to themselves like that."
"Huh?" Ginny said, snapping out of her reverie. "I am not!" Her response lacked the usual bite it usually carried as she was so preoccupied. "Stop talking. I need to remember which fork is which."
Draco smirked but didn't have the opportunity for a snarky retort as Kendra started introducing the exercise. Ginny had to admit, as she glanced over at her partner, that the candlelight created an almost ethereal glow around him with his light skin and platinum hair.
Focus, Ginny! She chastised herself as she tried to regain her concentration. Now was not the time to try to admire Malfoy's looks, even if they were worthy of admiration, she begrudgingly admitted to herself.
Just as she unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap, the food magically appeared on platters. It reminded her greatly of the delicious feasts at Hogwarts, only much more grandiose. As for the first course, it started with appetizers, such as the glorious cheese plate that had appeared right before her very eyes. There were soft cheeses, rotund wheels, and unpleasant smelling cheeses paired with wonderful hearty pieces of bread and fruits to accompany them. She carefully took a couple of pieces and used the proper knife to spread the cheese onto her bread. Whew. This isn't too bad.
But as usual, Ginny had thought too soon. The dinner started to go downhill from there. As she saw Narcissa and Kendra walking up and down, monitoring and silently analyzing all of the students with their stern looks, Ginny gulped. She was so used to being liked by nearly everyone she met that Charm School had thrown her off course. She wasn't used to trying this hard to make a good impression on someone; usually it was a very natural progression. It didn't help that she wasn't used to all of these regulations and wasn't in her element. The mere sight of her gave off the wrong impression to these people. It greatly unnerved Ginny but somehow made her more determined to prove them all wrong.
She became too self-conscious as she tried to make sure she was using the proper utensil, plate, and glass for each dish under constant scrutiny. During the soup course, while they were enjoying a delicious onion soup, she dropped her spoon. She cast her napkin aside and quickly ducked under the table to find her spoon. It's so hard to see down here, Ginny thought to herself. She bumped into several legs, both male and female, until she finally found her darned spoon. When coming back up for air, she hit her head as she stood up too soon.
"Oh, fuck me," Ginny muttered as she returned to her chair, her eyes threatening to water as the pain began to throb. Rubbing the sore spot on the top of her head, she sheepishly apologized to her neighbors, all of whom were giving her dirty looks.
"Language, Weasley," Draco admonished with a smirk. "And, I'd rather not. I am a gentleman after all. I at least buy women dinner before sex."
"Kindly please shut it, Malfoy," Ginny retorted, her face growing warm. She swiftly threw a carrot at him once Narcissa turned her back on them.
During the salad course, she was speaking animatedly with Lena, when a wild hand gesture caused Ginny to spill her pumpkin juice all over her skirt. She had evidently forgotten to place her napkin back onto her lap. When the side dishes appeared, she dropped the spoonful of potatoes that were meant for her plate onto the floor.
"Seriously Weasley," Draco muttered. "How are you a sodding Healer? How do administer medications or spells with precision?"
"I'll have you know I'm a legend there!" Ginny cried. And she was right. When it came to one of her passions, she worked very hard to do the best that she could. She wasn't affected by egos or got sucked into any of the drama and gossip at the hospital. She accomplished every task to the best of her ability and got pleasant results. Now why couldn't she just apply those skills here?
Ginny's credibility remained shaky as she almost dropped the platter she was passing over to Theo.
"Sorry, Nott!" Ginny cried, turning red.
"Remind me never to request a Healer from St. Mungo's again," Draco sighed, rubbing his temples.
The main course arrived consisting of beef wellington and some delectably glazed steaks, all cooked to perfection. She tried not to overfill her plate so she wouldn't look so rude, but it was impossible. All of the food was so delicious that she wanted to consume as much as she could without exploding. A couple of the young women several seats down gave her dirty looks and giggled in her direction.
Ginny ignored them as she continued to make conversation with Lena and Blaise. While she was tolerating Draco, she still could not handle talking to him like an acquaintance, let alone a friend. Just when they would get back onto the proper footing, he would muck it all up with some snarky comment or rude remark.
They had finally made it to the dessert course when Ginny noticed that the ratio of forks to knives at her setting were off. She really wasn't sure how she had two forks, a knife, and no spoon left. Looking around her vicinity, everyone's utensils had disappeared save for a spoon for dessert. Just then, Narcissa paused to look at her current situation and shook her head, sighing. She quickly scribbled away in that notebook of hers and walked away.
Ginny heard another giggle several feet away that sounded awfully familiar. It was Daphne's as usual. A spoon had luckily accompanied her dessert when it appeared in front of her, and just as she was about to dig into her elegantly layered trifle, she couldn't help but overhear Daphne's conversation with her trusty sidekick, Tracey.
"Just look, Daphne. Weasley couldn't even figure out which fork to use. Even my three year old nephew knows that. It's a wonder how she manages to dress yourself every day," said Tracey, pausing. "On second thought, her clothes speak for themselves," she sniffed.
"Now, now Tracey. You can't fault the poor girl. Emphasis on poor. They probably only have one large pot and spoon to share amongst that village of a family she has," Daphne reasoned.
"They probably just use their hands. You can tell how starved those boys were. Just look at the way her brother ate in school!"
Draco had also heard the conversation and sniggered, before quickly shutting up when feeling the harsh rays of Ginny's death glare that were threatening to shoot fiery daggers directly at him. At least he seemed to finally catch on when to shut up.
They continue to speak loudly, as Daphne declared, "The day Ginny Weasley becomes the Belle of the Ball would be the day Snape decided to wash his hair."
"But Daphne, he's dead. That isn't possible," Tracey stated confusedly.
"Exactly."
Daphne started laughing a little too hard at her own joke. It took a few moments for Tracey to catch up but soon enough she chimed in with the cackling.
Ginny quickly reached for one of her many leftover forks and quickly started to wield it as a weapon. Before she could stand up and make it over to Daphne, Draco quickly reached across and lowered her hand.
"Always with the violence, Weasley," Draco calmly chided.
The next evening, Ginny headed out to the sprawling backyard instead of heading into the common room with everyone else. She needed time to clear her mind and escape for a short awhile. There was only one way she could think of doing that and that was Quidditch. Pausing to tie her loose laces on her worn trainers, she made her way down to the Quidditch Pitch that was set up on the Malfoy Estate. It was properly dug out in the ground, complete with robust hoops and even had a towering seating box for a small audience to spectate.
She shifted to the right when her eyes fell upon the broomstick shed. She was met with a large stock of Firebolt Flashes, upon opening the shed, one of the latest and best models of broomsticks.
"It figures," she sighed as she grabbed one by the handle. The seemingly unlimited amount of wealth the Malfoys had was quite astounding. A better question to ask would be what didn't they own rather than wonder what they did.
Before lifting off, she put on her riding gloves and dusted them off with some spare powder, patting the excess onto her old jeans. For the first time since she had come here, she felt finally felt comfortable in her casual clothing. As she kicked off to get into the air, she finally felt like she was herself again. It felt good to regain some semblance of self when she was so consumed with becoming something she was clearly not.
She dived up and down a few times, enjoying the breeze hitting her face, whipping through her ponytail. Her hair whipped around her head as she twisted and turned. It wasn't until ten minutes later she noticed a familiar golden speck whizzing by centimeters away from her face. She wasn't alone on the pitch; there was a figure off in the distance. A very blond figure. Just as she was about to turn and retreat, she saw him hastily flying over to her.
"Damnit, Malfoy, why are you always wherever I am?" Ginny said in a perplexing manner. She was never going to get a moment to herself at this rate.
"And quite corking to see you too, Weasley," Malfoy replied with a smirk. "Charm School is really paying off."
"I'm really not in the mood, Malfoy," she snapped, slowly descending to the ground.
"Well, technically speaking, I was here first. It would appear that you're stalking me," Draco replied from overhead. "Besides, I need something to occupy me now that I've given up smoking."
She looked up to see that he was also descending with her, much to her chagrin. Ginny noticed that Draco had also dressed down for the occasion. Though, unlike her, he had the proper Quidditch attire on that looked brand new and expensive. She couldn't help but notice that his riding pants were rather flattering, particularly his bum. His ebony robes looked very similar to the ones worn by the Montrose Magpies, the most successful team in the British and Irish league, sans the magpie logo. He did look rather handsome with the complete Quidditch uniform, from the billowing robes right down to the shin guards. She quickly tried to vanish that thought out of her mind.
As soon as her feet touched the ground, she swiftly dismounted. "Please, don't flatter yourself. Your head doesn't need to be any larger than it is," Ginny scoffed, as she sat down on a nearby bench for players.
He sat down next to her, peeling off his riding gloves. "I have a perfectly sized head, thank you very much," Draco replied without missing a beat, and ran a hand to correct his tousled hair. "Just ask Pansy or Daphne, they'll tell you that my looks are the cream of the crop around here."
"Say, why isn't Parkinson here?" Ginny asked abruptly, changing the topic.
"Got married to some Irish bloke a couple of months back," Draco shrugged. "Took a load off my shoulders."
"And another thing, why aren't you with Daphne? I mean, outside of this whole ridiculous Conservatory. You guys seem to be the perfect picture. Hell you could use the same monogram and you have that alliteration thing going on," Ginny rambled.
"You've put a lot of thought into that," Draco replied, raising an eyebrow, smirk still in place. "Besides, Daphne's a miserable human being."
"She's so lucky to have a friend like you," Ginny responded sarcastically.
They fell into silence as the sun had completely gone down. Ginny paused to look at the expansive sky above her in search for the few constellations she could remember from Astronomy class.
"This whole Charm School tradition is insane," Ginny suddenly blurted out, breaking into the peace that had come over them. She wasn't really sure what had gotten into her, but she was no longer able to bottle up her displeasure for the Conservatory. Ginny had to share her thoughts with someone, even if that someone ended up being Malfoy.
"What?" Draco said bewildered, turning to look at her.
"You heard me!" Ginny cried, looking frustrated. "I mean, imagine being paired up with the expectation that you should be good with said person. How can we be pre-selected for each other like that? That's not how relationships are built!" She threw her hands up in the air in exasperation.
"Well, it's just the way things are done," Draco said gruffly. "It's not like it's set in stone."
"It's not like I'd expect you to understand love, Malfoy," she bitterly replied, crossing her arms at her chest.
Suddenly, Draco leaned in closer to her, his face almost nose to nose with hers. He looked dead serious with a chilled calmness in his eyes that were piercing into hers. "It may be difficult for someone like you to comprehend, but I do know what love is," Draco said in a quiet but stern tone. "Just because I can compartmentalize my feelings doesn't mean they no longer exist."
He wasn't done at that though as he continued, "Do you know why we continue to keep up with these 'traditions?'" Ginny nervously shook her head. She wasn't quite sure what was happening at this moment. She had never seen Draco Malfoy so serious in her life; it was a little unsettling.
"It's because we're all so busy making sure the other doesn't realize that we're trying to put ourselves back together from the mess we got into. These people are broken, just like everyone else is. It brings some semblance of normalcy. It's easier to hide behind these masks than dare show we have any weaknesses."
Without waiting for a response, Draco reached over for his broomstick and stood up from the bench. He sauntered away towards the house. Ginny was stunned by this momentary lapse in Draco's seemingly impenetrable shield. Evidently there was a small chink in that armor. This society had such stringent rules and regulations, she thought to herself, watching him disappear into the Manor. Everybody was hiding behind rituals and procedures. Everybody including Draco Malfoy.
It was the night before the weekly exam, and Draco was tossing and turning in his bed. He could not for the life of him understand why he was so restless. Normally reading business documents late into the night quickly put him to bed, but not tonight. The past couple of days had been dreadful. Ever since that strange encounter at the Quidditch Pitch, he had barely spoken to Ginny unless absolutely necessary.
Draco groaned, putting his arms behind his head as he stared up at his enchanted ceiling marked with his family's namesake constellations. He sighed as he saw his own constellation twinkling back at him. He wasn't sure why it had ruffled his feathers so. Is that what people saw him as? Unhuman? Unable to feel? True, he did pride himself on being able to mask his emotions; it was one of his many talents but it bothered him to some degree nonetheless. Perhaps, it was because it was a Gryffindor, those deemed to be so pure and indoctrinated to somehow see the good in people, that couldn't see anything good in him. Or perhaps, he couldn't stand the fact that Ginny Weasley thought she was superior to him in that regard.
He turned over to his left side, eyeing the clock sitting on his nightstand. Its hands indicated that it was a little after two in the morning. He cast his comforter aside and put on his slippers. Pulling his night robe on and fastening it, he quietly slinked out of the room. He figured he might as well walk over to the kitchen and grab himself a snack. A couple of stairwells and some turns later, he walked into the spotless kitchen. It was thankfully deserted; he was in no mood to hear the peppy chirps of a dutiful house elf at this hour.
Draco found a bowl of fresh fruit on one of the islands, and quickly grabbed himself a shiny green apple. He walked back into the corridor, hoping he would finally be able to get some sleep with a full stomach. As he bit into the refreshingly tart fruit, Draco heard a light clatter a few doors down followed by a voice.
It appeared to coming from the dining room. Draco's curiosity got the best of him as he decided to investigate what all the racket was all about. All of the students had retired to their quarters hours ago, especially because there was an examination tomorrow. He stopped at the entrance of the dining room, which was open a crack. From there he could see who had decided to stay up late.
The long communal table had been put away for the night. Instead, there was Ginny Weasley sitting on the floor, in a tartan nightshirt and matching boxer shorts, looking very frustrated at a pile of plates and utensils. Her hair was in a loose and messy plait, many hairs sticking out of the braid in various directions and escaping. Her brown eyes were tired and weary, frantic to get each table setting down perfectly. It was evident that she was attempting to study for the table manners exam tomorrow, and was scrambling to cram. He smirked as he took a big bite of his late night snack. Not so easy is it, Weaselette?
"UGH! I give up! I'm never going to get this!" She cried, throwing one of the forks into the pile as a surrender. It hit the wood floor hard, the head of the fork tilting to the left as a result. She covered her face in her hands and sighed. "Seriously? Is this what I have to do to prove to everyone that I can finally take care of myself? I can heal wounds and set bones but I can't bloody figure out where to put the sodding steak knife or the salad fork. Who even needs this many damned spoons anyway? WHO CARES. As long as it's clean just use it!" She was clearly ranting to no one in particular, unaware that Draco was listening in.
"I just wanted to get those stupid Galleons so I could finally move out and begin my life an adult. Is that really that hard to ask for? I am apparently doomed to live in the shadow of my brothers. That's how it's going to be isn't it? I'm going to be a forty year old spinster with five Kneazles and still living at the Burrow." She said as tears started to roll down in frustration.
Who knew someone could look that helpless and pathetic? For some reason, it actually tugged at Draco's heart strings. Yes, contrary to popular belief Draco Malfoy actually had a heart. It was very deeply hidden, but it was there. He had wanted to come in to make fun of her for finding something so simple difficult, but now it felt like kicking a lost puppy. The look Ginny had on her face was jarring. It stirred something inside of him, only he wasn't quite sure what. He had seen girls cry before and he would feebly attempt to make them feel better but the look in her face made him feel strange. It just didn't feel right. He wasn't used to this feeling of empathy in the pit of his stomach. Maybe it was because he could relate to trying to prove the world wrong about their preconceived notions about them. He could relate to the struggle on trying to establish oneself as their own person, separate from their family. Or perhaps, someone finally looked as clueless as he felt about his future. He groaned as he ran a hand in his hair. I'm going to be kicking myself later for doing this. Against better judgment, he shifted from his eavesdropping spot and widened the door, leaning into the doorway.
He cleared his throat, causing Ginny to whip her head up in his direction, surprised that someone was there. Tears were still threatening to fall from her exhausted reddened eyes and onto her tear stained cheeks. "What do you want?" She asked, wiping her eyes in annoyance with the back of her hand like a child. "I really don't need to hear any of your berating comments at this hour."
"I had decided against my better judgment to give you some assistance. But I could see I'm not welcome," he drawled. Why did he even bother? She was always so annoyed with him. What did he care if she failed and didn't pass through the program? That little bet, you dolt, a reasonable voice inside chastised.
"Yeah, right, like you'd actually help me," Ginny said cynically. "Besides, it'll be of no use. You'd just be wasting your breath. I may as well just go pack my bags now."
"Some Gryffindor you turned out to be," Draco responded. It annoyed him at how easily she was giving up. Where was all of that Gryffindor pride that was always on display? "Aren't you all bold and brave to a fault? Are you really going to let a stupid test like this get the best of you? Are you really going to prove morons like Daphne right?"
"What's it to you, Malfoy?" Ginny glared, inelegantly blowing her nose into one of the cloth napkins.
"Nothing really. But I'd rather not hear another lecture from my mother," he replied as he leaned against the doorway. "And I'd prefer not to stare at a blotchy spotted mess tomorrow."
"Gee, is that how you talk to all the girls?" She asked sarcastically.
"As a matter of fact, yes," he replied without missing a beat. "Actually, they don't really pay attention to what I'm saying. They're too busy staring at my devilishly handsome good looks and imagining what they can do with my endless mountains of gold."
"At least they try to reap the benefits of dating someone with a horrible personality," she said, rolling her eyes. "As much as I enjoy trading barbs with you, I'm rather busy at the moment." Ginny turned away from him and began to pour over her notes.
"Look, Weasley, this is a once in a lifetime offer. I don't just offer my services to anyone," Draco stated irritably.
"Well, your services aren't needed here, Malfoy," Ginny called out over her shoulder.
Draco shifted uncomfortably for several minutes; his usual tactics weren't working. Then, against his own will, he felt himself push off of the doorway and into the room. He walked into the empty, scantly lit room and closer to his partner. He stopped just inches away from the display.
"You know, I used to have trouble with this when I was younger," he said earnestly, awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Really?" Ginny said, looking up at him with a surprised expression.
"I know, shocking. I can show you a couple of tips and tricks to get through it, if you'd like," he offered. Draco wasn't really sure what was getting into him. But for some reason, he felt compelled to help Ginny with her current predicament.
Ginny laughed a little too hard, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "It's so late right now that I'm desperate enough to say yes."
Draco sat down across from her, crossing his legs, the silverware acting as a barrier in between them.
"Alright, it's simple enough. The first trick is if you can't remember anything, just work your way from the outside in. The outer most fork and knife generally correspond to the courses that are brought out."
"Work outside in," she repeated, as if ingraining it into her memory.
Fishing his wand out of his robe pocket, he illuminated each utensil as it floated up during his rundown of the place setting.
"See this large fork with the tallest prongs? This is the dinner fork. Generally it's the one closest to the plate, on your left side. The fish fork and the salad fork will go to the left of the dinner fork, respectively," he continued.
"But your mother mentioned that sometimes the salad might be served after the entrée. I'm back at square one then," she said impatiently.
"I mentioned the prongs, right? That's another way to figure it out. Tallest prongs is the dinner or entrée fork so the smallest pronged fork is the salad fork. What's in between will be used for a fish course, should there be one."
He continued to go through each of the utensils one by one. Draco explained each piece of silverware's function, placement, and whether there was an exception to the rule. Ginny wrote down all of his tips fervently, quickly scrawling out diagrams to help her remember all of the handy information.
"Another way to remember it is: 'FORKS'," Draco said, after going through the details.
"What the hell is 'FORKS?'" Ginny asked with a yawn.
"Those things you eat with, Weasley," he replied sarcastically. Then he remembered he was trying to help her rather than argue, so he continued on. "Just picture the word in your mind. Left to right. The F is for Forks; O represents the plate, based on its round shape; K is for Knives and the S is for the Spoons."
"What happened to the R?" she asked.
"It's not important," he said, brushing it off.
"But then it's FOKS, not FORKS," Ginny pointed out. "Quite lovely ginger creatures, really."
"You Weasleys have no imaginations in those small brains of yours," he retorted, crossing his arms.
"What about the bread plate? I always get it mixed up. I'm pretty sure I ate off of Lena's plate the other night. Only she was too kind to point it out," she inquired, apparently choosing to ignore Draco's insult.
"Oh, that's easy." Draco said, uncrossing his arms. He held his arms out in front of him. "Just remember: 'Bread' and 'Drinks'." With his left hand, he touched the tips of his thumbs to the tips of his forefingers to form a lowercase "b" and did the same with the right hand, forming a lowercase "d". "See? Bread to your left, drinks to your right."
"What? I don't see it…" Ginny said, puzzled. She furrowed her brow as she tried to visualize it with her own hands.
Draco rolled his eyes and stood up and came over to Ginny's side. He kneeled down behind her, touching her elbows, moving her arms out. Draco's arms came around hers, his hands forming the letters next to her perplexed ones.
"Oh my goodness! That's so easy!" Ginny cried happily, turning her head back to look at him. He smiled back at her, quite surprised and pleased that he actually done something right. It was then that he realized he was mere centimeters from her face and just how close they were to each other. Her body was nearly flush against his. Draco could see the gold flecks in her brown eyes, just how long her dark eyelashes were, and how full her lush pink lips were. They both paused in silence, unsure of what was happening or what to do. Draco felt his heart beat faster and hands getting slightly sweaty. He abruptly moved back and stood up, breaking their close physical contact.
"Well, um, Weasley, it's uh, getting late," Draco stammered uncomfortably, absently rubbing his neck. He started backing away towards the door. "I should be getting to bed."
"…Right," Ginny said vacantly, looking every bit as confused as he felt at that very moment.
Draco took that as his cue to quickly leave the room without looking like he was running. Unwilling to think about recent events in detail, he opted to Apparate back to his room rather than over analyze everything on his walk back.
As he climbed back into bed, the earliest rays of the suns were beginning to burst through the clouds. He regretted deciding to get out of bed now. How was he supposed to sleep after all of that? He pulled one of the pillows from underneath his head and put it on top of his head in frustration. He had a very peculiar feeling in his stomach. Draco Malfoy did not like it one bit. Not at all.
A/N: I'm going to keep any notes I have at the bottom from now on. If you see any chapters get updated, they're only done so because I may revise them for grammatical/spelling errors to ensure clarity. Glad you guys liked the last chapter and hoped you enjoyed this one!