Chapter 21: It's Up to Us

Ginny sat cross-legged on her bed, a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders, frowning down at the assignment she was grading. It was three o'clock on a Friday afternoon, and she was trying to finish up some grading before she headed home for the weekend. Calvin Endicott seemed to have confused the Conjunctivitus Curse and Confundus Charm, and she was having trouble deciphering what he was trying to say about them.

It had been a month since she had told Harry they couldn't spend time together anymore, and some of the awkwardness had begun to fade. She had started taking a different route to the Great Hall in the morning and a different staircase to get to her room each evening. She suspected that Harry was avoiding her as well. But on the rare occasions when they did pass in the hallways or when their eyes accidentally met during dinner, they both quickly looked away. It was uncomfortable, but it was doable.

Suddenly, the fire crackling in the grate surged into green flames and Draco's head and shoulders came into view. She scooted off the bed and settled down before the fire.

"Hi, love," he said, smiling. She could tell from the picture frames and bookcase behind him that he was at the office. "When are you heading home?"

She twirled her grading quill absent-mindedly between her thumb and forefinger. "Probably around five. I want to finish up some work."

Draco nodded. "All right." He paused and cleared his throat, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Why do I get the feeling that our relaxing weekend of staying in bed and drinking hot cocoa is about to be blown to shreds?"

"Well," he said, shifting in his seat, "My father just Owled me. He wants to open up the family files this weekend for me to take a look at our accounts."

"Why don't you just bring them home?"

"Security spells," he said. "The documents can't be taken off manor grounds or some very ugly things happen." He raised his eyebrows at her meaningfully, and she winced.

"And I think it'll take the whole weekend for me to get through everything," he continued.

Ginny sighed theatrically. "I suppose I'll just putter around at home alone."

He looked at her strangely. "No, no, I wanted to know if you wanted to come with me!"

"You want me to stay with you at the manor for the weekend? Your dad hates me."

He shrugged. "He's going to have to get over it eventually. And anyway, he'll probably be out of the house for most of the weekend. He's barely ever there."

"All right," Ginny said slowly. Somehow, the prospect of spending the weekend at Malfoy Manor made her feel a bit anxious. She had only negative associations with the place. "When do you want to head over?"

Draco glanced at his watch. "I'll probably be done here around four. So I'll meet you at the apartment at five and we can Apparate over?"

Walking up the lane to Malfoy Manor was considerably less uncomfortable with Draco by her side. He strode through the gate and into the house nonchalantly, carrying both of their weekend bags slung easily over one shoulder and wrapping the other arm around her waist.

A stout, elderly-looking House Elf greeted them in the foyer. "Good evening, Master Draco," the elf said with almost humorous gravity.

"Evening, Bixby," Draco said, setting the bags down. "I expect Father told you I'd be coming? This is Miss Weasley," he added, gesturing to Ginny. "She'll be staying for the weekend as well."

Bixby bowed low, and Ginny smiled politely. "I was not aware that Master Malfoy would be bringing a guest. I shall have Effie and Buckley ready the guest bedroom as soon as possible."

"That won't be necessary," Draco replied, "She'll be staying in my bedroom with me. Please send both of our bags up, and be sure to let Buckley know that he'll be cooking for both of us this weekend."

Bixby looked rather disapproving of the planned sleeping arrangement, but he bowed deeply in acknowledgement.

"Will that be all, Sir?"

"Yes, I'm going to give Miss Weasley a tour of the house. Is my father here?"

"Yes, Master Draco, but he says that he is occupied and will see you for dinner at seven."

"Good. Thank you, Bixby, you may go." Bixby bowed again and started up the stairs, their bags trailing behind him.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Ginny burst into laughter. "He's quite formal, isn't he?" she said.

Draco grinned and shrugged. "He's been that way for as long as I can remember. He's rather an old-fashioned House Elf. He was a favorite of my grandfather's."

"Ah," Ginny said, a humorous gleam in her eye, "So he remembers a more civilized time, then."

"Indeed."

"And what about you, Master Draco?" she grinned. "You seem quite used to managing the household."

"Well, with great power comes great responsibility," Draco said, expression serious. Ginny laughed.

"May I see the palace now?" she said.

"All right," he replied, holding out a hand. "Shall we?"

She followed him across the foyer and through the large parlor where all of the funeral attendees had been gathered weeks ago, then into the small parlor where the two of them had talked. Now she had the time to actually look at all of the portraits lining the walls – Draco's ancestors. Toward the end of the hall was Lucius Malfoy's and, opposite, Narcissa's. And beside his father was Draco's. She stopped in front of it.

"Stand still," she ordered, looking between the painting and the real man. "It's a good portrait," she said appraisingly. "Who painted it?"

"There's a family of painters in Paris that's been doing all the Malfoy portraits for generations," Draco explained.

"Fancy," Ginny smiled. "They've got your eyes all wrong, though." She looked back to the portrait. Painted-Draco had moved to the table on one side of the canvas and was flipping through the pages of a book, a very somber expression on his face. Ginny doubted if any of the people in these portraits ever smiled.

"What do you mean?"

"They're too…hard," she said. "Not kind enough."

"Well that was done Sixth Year," he replied. "I don't think they were particularly kind at that point."

"Also, I think they made you too tall," Ginny continued, "And you're not quite as handsome as this portrait makes you out to be. Your nose is actually much more bulbous, and they left out all of your warts, and…." She dissolved into giggles as came up to try to smother her in a hug.

"All right, all right, that's enough out of you," he laughed.

"Your mum looks really young in her portrait," Ginny considered, turning to look at Narcissa's painting. "She was very pretty." And she was; the woman's long hair fell around her shoulders and contrasted beautifully with the canvas's dark background and her long, black dress. But the painted woman looked a little distracted. Her eyes were focused on something far away.

"It was just after they got engaged," Draco explained. "She must've been about your age…maybe even younger."

"So is that spot going to be for your fiance, then?" Ginny said, her gaze turning to the blank space of wall beside Narcissa's painting.

Draco smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Eventually," he said. "Let's go, I want to show you the ballroom you've heard so much about, and then the upstairs."

Half an hour later they mounted the wide staircase to the upper level of the house and stopped before a set of tall double doors. "And this, my dear, is where the magic happens." He winked and let them inside.

It was a huge room with a high, vaulted ceiling. It was dominated by a mahogany canopy bed with black satin sheets and, above that, a looming painting of the manor and grounds. There was a wide window to one side and a desk facing it. And on the left, a long deep green sofa and two armchairs were arranged around a very ornate fireplace, which was already blazing. Bixby had obviously readied the room for Master Draco's arrival.

"Wow," Ginny said, walking in and turning in a wide circle. "I like it. It's not what I expected."

"What do you mean?" Draco said, closing the doors behind them and watching her move around the room.

"I dunno," Ginny said, moving to the bookcases beside the fireplace and pulling books off, inspecting their covers, and replacing them. "You have this big window and this warm fireplace. It's much homier than I thought it would be."

"Oh," Draco said teasingly, "You thought I grew up in a freezing cold dungeon with slits for windows."

"Yep," Ginny quipped. "With skulls on the mantelpiece and books about torture and death."

Draco laughed. "Well, I'm awfully sorry to disappoint."

"Apology accepted," Ginny said, grinning at him over her shoulder. She finished her inspection of the room and lifted herself onto the bed, kicking off her shoes and lying back. "And this is an extremely comfortable bed. I must say, Mr. Malfoy," she said, lifting her head to look at him, "You have really outdone yourself with this bed."

Draco crossed the room and climbed on top of her, smiling broadly. "The mattress I picked. But this bed frame is at least a hundred years old." He looked down at her and smirked. "And I think you are the first non-Slytherin to lay your head on it."

"Really?" Ginny said, raising her eyebrows cheekily, "Well that makes it just that much better, doesn't it?"

He lowered his head and she sighed as their lips met. "Yes, yes it does," he whispered. Her fingers moved up into his hair and his kisses were just starting to edge down her neck to her collarbone when there was a sharp knock on the door.

"Master Draco?" The squeaky voice filtered into the room from behind the wood. "Dinner is served."

Draco sighed heavily. "All right, Effie," he called, pushing himself off the bed and straightening the suit he was still wearing from work. Ginny cleared her throat and sat up, running a hand through her hair.

"I guess we ought to go down," he continued.

Ginny smirked at the frustrated look on his face. "I guess so. We can continue that later…," she added quietly, running a teasing hand down the front of his suit. She felt a smug satisfaction at his sharp intake of breath.

"You're going to be the death of me, woman," he muttered, shaking his head.

"You love it," she laughed, taking his hand and leading him from the room.

Lucius Malfoy was already seated at the head of the long table in the dining room when they entered. The older man looked even more tired and drawn than he had at the Order of Merlin ball, and for the first time Ginny wondered if he might be ill. But his eyes narrowed as she followed Draco into the room and he watched icily as his son pulled out her chair and then sat down across from her.

"Draco," he said sternly as a small, female House Elf and a male counterpart paraded in with their plates of food, "I didn't know you would be bringing a guest."

"Mmm," Draco said easily, taking a sip of his wine, "Ginny works at Hogwarts, so we spend most of our time together on weekends. I thought she might like to see the Manor."

Lucius nodded shortly, his eyes flicking sharply to Ginny, who forced herself to meet his gaze head-on. "Tell me, Miss Weasley," the older man said slowly, picking up his fork and starting in on his meal, "How is your family? Still living in that tiny shack of a house, are they?"

Ginny swallowed her own bite of food. She knew he was baiting her. "They're doing very well," she said. "As is their house. In fact, just the other day the Minister of Magic was there for dinner, and he thought it was wonderfully cozy." She looked up and smiled brightly. Lucius Malfoy smiled back tightly, but his eyes were scowling. Ginny glanced at Draco; his eyes were gleaming with amusement.

"And what is it that you do at Hogwarts?" Lucius continued.

"I teach Charms."

"Do you?" he replied coolly, twirling a bit of pasta on his fork. Ginny steeled herself for whatever was coming. "And here I was under the impression that you were spending most of your time there sleeping with Harry Potter."

Ginny's eyes shot up to Draco, who was glaring daggers at Lucius. "Father…," he said warningly.

"I wouldn't have taken you for a reader of Witch Weekly, Mr. Malfoy," Ginny cut in smoothly.

Lucius smiled acidly. "Hardly," he replied. "But The Daily Prophet and several other more reputable publications all tell the same story."

Ginny nodded slowly. "Well, I certainly didn't expect that all of the gossip columns would begin telling lies about the nature of my work at Hogwarts." She took a long sip of wine and smiled coolly at him over the rim of her glass. "But you of all people should know that things don't always go according to plan."

He held her gaze for a long moment, then barked out a mirthless laugh. "Indeed," he replied, and then he turned to Draco. "I will have Bixby make the accounts available to you tomorrow morning at seven."

"Good," Draco said. "Have you been keeping decent records over the past few years?"

As Lucius answered, Draco nudged her foot under the table and gave her an appreciative wink. She raised her glass to him and smiled back.

Soon, their plates had been cleared, and they stood to go.

"I'll be out for the rest of the weekend," Lucius said. "There is a conference in Berlin that I'm expected to attend."

"Fine," Draco replied. "Goodnight, father."

"Goodnight, Mr. Malfoy," Ginny said, trying for politeness. "Thank you for letting me spend the weekend here," she added.

Lucius narrowed his eyes at her. "Miss Weasley," he said slowly, "Let me make something perfectly clear. If it were up to me, you would not be spending any time here at all. Nor would my son see fit to involve himself with you."

Ginny opened her mouth, a sharp retort on her lips, but Draco caught her hand in his and squeezed it. "Luckily, Father," he said coolly, "It is not up to you." And he led her out of the room.

"Thank you for sitting through that," Draco said as they walked up the stairs.

"Well I can't say it was a pleasure…." she replied, grinning.

"I owe you," he replied. "But you were fantastic in there. I don't think anyone's ever stood up to him like that."

Ginny smirked. "All in a day's work."

The next day dawned bright, the sun reflecting off of the white expanse of snow on the grounds. When Ginny woke tangled in the satin sheets, Draco was already sitting on the sofa in front of the fire, poring over the large stack of papers.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he said when she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Already hard at work?" she said, climbing out of bed and pulling a thick jumper over her cream-colored silk slip from Christmas. She padded over to the sofa. "Budge up," she muttered, and sat down, snuggling up against his chest.

"Well the good news is, if there's one thing my father really cares about, it's keeping the family finances in order." He set the sheet of parchment aside and kissed her temple. "Do you want some hot cocoa? I know you were hoping to sit in front of a fire and drink hot cocoa this weekend."

"At home," she teased, "But I guess this'll do. It is a mansion, after all."

Draco grinned and pulled a cord that hung down beside the sofa. In a moment, there was a knock on the door and a tentative Effie entered. "What can Effie do for you, Sir?"

"Two hot cocoas, please, Effie," he replied. "With marshmellows if you can find them?"

The House Elf bowed and left, and Ginny raised her eyebrows at him. "Marshmellows? You're really pulling out all the stops, aren't you?"

"Only the best for Ginny Weasley," he grinned.

"You better believe it. Now, should I be worried that my finances don't look like this?" she said, picking up the piece of parchment and surveying the neatly charted numbers that filled the page. "Because I just throw all of my receipts into a box and hope for the best."

"I'm appalled," Draco teased. "And to think that you have a financier as a boyfriend."

"I know! It's done me no good at all."

Effie scurried back in with two large mugs of cocoa, and Ginny sat up to take hers. She sipped the steaming chocolate and leaned back against Draco's chest with a contented sigh.

"Hey, Gin?" Draco said softly.

"Mmm?"

"I just want you to know that it means a lot to me...what you're doing."

Ginny turned and swung her legs over his lap. "What do you mean?"

He met her eyes. "Staying away from Potter. I appreciate that you're doing it." He swallowed. "I know that it's been hard for you, but I want you to know that, well, that it means a lot to me."

She smiled gently and leaned in to kiss him. "It's the right thing, Draco. The fact that it bothered you was obviously important, but I would've done it anyway."

Draco nodded. "And I know that it bothers you that Pansy and I spend so much time together, so I'm going to try to see her less. Is that good?"

"Draco," she said quickly, "You don't have to do that. I don't expect it."

He shook his head. "No, if it bothers you, it bothers me. You stopped seeing Potter…it's the least I can do."

She leaned her head against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes and smiled. "I love you," she said quietly.

He kissed the top of her head. "I love you too."

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to all of you lovely readers who have been politely asking for Draco/Ginny fluff and have been super patient with me. You know I love you guys, right? I hope this chapter was at least somewhat satisfying in the fluff category…try to remember it as the next few chapters unfold.

Please review!