Disclaimer: I am a poor college student, so if J.K. Rowling wants to sue me for borrowing her characters for this story then she can try, but she'd only get a half-eaten peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich and a can of Diet Pepsi. And if she wants to sue me for that, well, that's just plain mean! The only thing I own is the idea of a magical Ailuros feline, even if he breed is based on the Egyptian Mau.  

Author's note on the bottom!!

Saturday, August 31, 1996

Ginny reached into a pocket of her robe and smiled when she felt the reassuring cool touch of a hand full of smooth coins against her hand's flesh. The chill of the coins was one very small victory against the heavy heat that even the magical wizard town of Diagon Alley couldn't control. Ginny had asked one of her many brothers, the smart one Percy, why the weather was so hot, but he had muttered something about an Elle Neeniyo before running for the safety of the cauldron store.

Percy and his fascination with cauldrons was something of a family joke, so Ginny had just laughed to cover her bafflement at her brilliant but decidedly odd brother.

So whoever this Elle Neeniyo was, be it person or magical artifact, Ginny was glad that it existed because it gave her a chance to walk around Diagon Alley with Harry while he and his friends gathered their school supplies for their sixth year. Ginny couldn't keep a silly grin off her face—walking with Harry, even if it meant listening to Ron complain about the death of his second pet rat, Goobers while Harry and Hermione argued over the next DADA teacher, was a special thing for any young witch, especially Ginny. Although not a contender for the hero's heart, Ginny did enjoy being in Harry's presence, even if it meant wearing a constant blush and not being able to converse normally. She had a habit of stuttering nonsense even when he only asked her if she was feeling ok.

Unfortunately, the effect of Harry on Ginny was another family joke, one that Ginny rarely joined in with the laughter. The teasing was a lot different when you were the target, after all, and the fact that her family treated the prime focus of her love life like a brother didn't help matters.

She sniffled her nose and felt her thin lips soften into a pout. It was a familiar problem, this Harry fascination of hers, made even worse since her first year when her hero had actually saved her life. Ginny didn't remember much from her first year and suspected she had been put under a memory charm to protect her "delicate sensitivities". Ginny didn't like the fact everyone thought her a delicate flower that needed protection, but she had to admit she had no urge to relive the horrors had befallen her during the first year. It was bad enough those nights she woke up in a cold sweat craving chicken!

"Is something wrong Ginny?" Hermione asked, nudging her friend in the side. Ginny flashed a quiet smile at the girl and shook her head no. She knew that Hermione would soon move her attention back to the argument with Harry, but when the days shopping was finished and the boys were not present the bushy haired girl would interrogate her about what had been ailing her. Ginny didn't mind too much, because Hermione could usually help her with her problems unless they involved Harry, a subject that Ginny had learned to almost never speak of unless she was in for some tough talking from the no-nonsense girl.

Still, Ginny was glad that at least her tentative friendship with Hermione had survived her first year, even if her memory of most of the events had not. After living with so many brothers in the Burrow, Ginny was happy to embrace any female companionship. Although a Gryffindor, Ginny had found that the Hufflepuff girls made loyal and true friends, while the Ravenclaw gals were mostly just good study mates. She hadn't bonded with any Slytherin, but she didn't hold it against the house as much as her brothers had. Tolerant Ginny, that's what her brother Bill had always called her, when she had defended the other houses against one of her brother's complaints.

Unfortunately for Ginny, there were only three Gryffindor girls in her year and she didn't get along with them all that well. Annabell Pickrell was a snob who constantly complained about having to attend Hogwarts and wanted to grow up to be a Beauty Wizard, while Avis Tribble was a terrible flirt who only talked to Ginny to get "insider info on Harry". Vicki Blanks was the only girl of the bunch that Ginny could stand talking too, but unfortunately Vicki had an awful stutter that was highlighted by her muted voice. 

Not wanting to dwell on any problems she'd be facing for the next batch of months at Hogwarts, Ginny made an effort to follow along with Harry and Hermione's argument. Harry was sure that the next professor for DADA would be a man, while Hermione was sure it would be a woman. As Ginny didn't much care for DADA in the first place the argument was unable to hold her interest, so the girl turned her attention to her brother Ron who, unfortunately, was composing an elaborate eulogy for his pet rat.

"Goobers, the most beautiful rat

Goobers, you weren't even fat

Goobers, not the slightest bit lazy

Goobers, although your eyes were hazy

Goobers, a Wizards best friend

Goobers, a…..  "

Ron trailed off on his mumbled poetry with a bewildered look on his freckled face. "Hey, Ginny, what rhymes with friend?"

After checking around to make sure no one was listening in horror to her brother's odd fascination with his dead rat, Ginny pursed her lips, trying to find a good rhyme. "Um… pretend?"

Hermione stopped her argument with Harry long enough to snort. "How about, 'Goobers, our friendship will transcend."

"Transcend what?" Ron asked in confusion, scratching his underneath his earlobe with a long finger.

"Death you silly dolt!" Hermione yelled, then turned back to Harry. "And for the last time the number of female professors on the staff does not have to be equal to the number of male professors!"

Ron stared at Hermione for a long confused moment before shrugging and adding her line to his eulogy for Goobers.

Why do I have to be cursed with insane brothers? Ginny asked herself before reaching into her pocket again to finger the assortment of coins. She had been saving the odd Sickle and Knut for the past two years in order to finally buy herself a familiar. She was excited because Hermione had promised to help her decide on the best familiar as well as to wrangle with the shopkeeper to get the best deal. Ginny wasn't good at wrangling prices down, but Hermione seemed to be blessed with the talent.

I wonder if the Magical Menagerie has a lot of cats. I always wanted a cat of my own, especially since Hermione has Crookshanks. Although, I don't think I'd want one quite as particular as him, nor as grumpy. And definitely not a female… whatever Crookshanks is. If the two got together... Ginny grinned as she imagined the Burrorw overrun by mini Crookshanks in an odd assortment of colors. Percy would be terrified, and Ron would be screaming that the cat had killed his latest rat!

Merlin knows what her parents could do!

"Oh, look at this shop!" Hermione suddenly commanded, the whole group pausing in front of an enchanted crystal shop. Ginny realized that the group had wandered down one of the small alleyways, because she only vaguely recognized the surroundings from a time she had blindly followed Fred and George. They had promised candy at the end of the alley, but instead all three had earned the dubious honor of degnoming the garden for the next week.

Ginny turned her attention totally to the crystal figurines and was astonished by their beauty. Not only did the shiny crystal reflect the colors of the rainbow in certain lights, but the sculptures seemed to move as if they were alive. On one side of the store display a lone unicorn figure pranced nobly around its cage of glass, tossing its head from side to side so that its horn would catch the light and reflect pretty colors around.

"Oh, I like this one." Ginny breathed, her nose against the cool glass window. The unicorn seemed to laugh as it danced in its display case, and nodded its elegant head in her direction before tossing its crystal mane and galloping in a loop around the case. Ginny giggled at the sculpture, wishing with all her heart that she had enough money to buy the pretty unicorn.

"I wish-" Ginny began to say, but when she turned her eyes from the unicorn she found that the others had left her behind. Ginny shrugged, because she figured they would have gone their separate ways sooner or later, and returned her attentions back to the figure as it pranced about.

After a good half hour of watching the unicorn's antics, Ginny turned away from the enchanted statue, a soft smile on her lips. Even though her charcoal gray robe was threadbare and almost transparently thin from aggressive wear, the garment was heavy in the bogged heat and felt like a dead weight against her clothes. I should find Hermione so she can help me decide on a familiar at the Magical Menagerie. She can help me reason out the best animal for me to have. Good thing I didn't ask Ron-- he'd launch into a new verse of his Goobers eulogy and begging me to use my hard fought money to buy him a new Rat. And there is no way I would even attempt to ask Harry to help me, because I'd end up stammering so bad he'd think I was asking him out!

Ginny blushed at the thought of such a horror and began her slow walk back to the busy section of Diagon Alley, completely lost in thought. A cat? Well, I'd have to make sure the cat agrees with Crookshanks, of course, and it would have to be a male. Female cats don't like me much—especially Filch's. I definitely don't want a toad or a frog, those are best left to boys who like those sort of things. I want something I can pet, after all, and I can't imagine how Neville can take pleasure with petting his Trevor. Ginny shivered at the thought of stroking the slimy skin of Neville's pet.

"Hm… maybe a dog?" She whispered out loud, but the idea wasn't as right as that of a cat. The only magical dogs she had ever seen were either huge and smelled too foul to merit petting, or were muggle hating pets who would try to attack even Squibs. While the thought of Filch being chased around Hogwarts by a Crup would be entertaining, she would rather have a mild mannered animal just in case it escaped her handling. She had heard that muggles killed animals that tried to attack other muggles, and she certainly didn't want that for her pet!

A bright silver glare caught her eye, interrupting her train of thought and snapping her attention back onto the path in front of her.   Her heart faltered in her chest when she saw the source of the glare came from a silver clutch purse held by none other then Draco Malfoy's beautiful mother, Narcissa. She managed to smile politely at the woman and moved out of her way, and was shocked when the beautiful woman nodded at her.

"Thank you, my dear." Narcissa's voice wasn't as arrogant as Ginny had remembered it being, but it was elegant and cool. She was wearing a pale brown fur robe with a matching muff, although her right hand was holding her silver purse.   Ginny wondered how the woman was able to look so calm and cool in the heat, especially in fur!

"Your welcome, Mrs. Malfoy." Ginny said as she attempted to move past the woman, but was blocked by the sudden appearance of none other then the boy toad himself, Draco Malfoy.

"Why if it isn't the smallest Weasel. Have you lost the boy wonder and his two moronic companions again?" Draco immediately said in a gloating tone, his nose rising to such a superior angle so he was forced to look down on Ginny.

Not that it was too hard to do that, as Ginny was a little over a meter and a half in height.

Before Ginny could hazard a response to Draco's insults, Ginny found an unlikely ally in his mother.

"I don't know what gets into him when he's around pretty girls." Draco's mother apologized, her face pinched sharp in anxiety. Although Ginny knew the woman was the same age as her own mother, she wouldn't have guessed it by appearances. Narcissa Malfoy must spend a fortune on AntiAging Charms and Potions, Ginny realized, privately keeping her opinion that women should age gracefully to herself. The girl turned to see what Draco had to say about his mother's words.

It could be the awful heat, but Draco's once pale face matched Ginny's fiery hair. "But Mom! She's a WEASLEY. They aren't pretty!" Draco protested in a whining voice.

Narcissa sighed and clasped her son's hand in her own gloved. "Now Draco, you know better then to insult a lady on the street. What manners have you lost among those you fraternize with at Hogwarts?"

Apparently the fact his mother was holding his hand in public was enough to cause the normally arrogant boy to drop his head and mutter something, but Ginny was unable to catch what he said.

"Now, that's better my dear Draco. And Ms. Weasley, I am sorry my son has lost his good manners. Unlike him, you are a breath refreshing air among the mannerless imps of your generation who scorn polite society. I pray he learns an ounce of good behavior before returning to Hogwarts for his sixth year tomorrow, but I fear it is too late for him. Good day, Ms. Weasley." The woman glided into the enchanted crystal store, a bright red Draco still at hand, leaving an astonished Ginny alone on the path.

***

Draco was not pleased by his mother's behavior and prayed that the youngest Weasel would keep the incident to herself. But his embarrassment faded as he stepped into the shop and managed to retrieve his stinging fingers from his mother's gloved hand. Thankfully the shopkeeper had cast a Cooling Spell on his shop, allowing the two a brief reprieve from the wretched heat outside. Narcissa made sure her anti-perspiring spell was holding and then glided carefully around the enchanted crystal figures and cases to the back of the shop. Draco noticed that the potentially dangerous statues, like the tiny dragon who spat out shards of sharp edged crystal, were kept in enchanted glass cases.

"Mum, why did you have to embarrass me in front of the rodent girl?"

At first Narcissa acted as if she had not heard her son, but when Draco stomped his foot in anger the woman turned towards her only son and sighed. "Honestly Draco, throwing a temper-tantrum in the middle of a crystal store. I had thought you would at least act your age in public."

Draco winced, again remembering why he hated shopping with his mother. "If I broke anything we would buy it anyway. Our family has enough money."

"Yes, but what of our reputation? Goodness knows how poor Ethel Goyle deals with the shame that brute of a son constantly brings to that noble family. And don't defend Gregory Goyle in my presence, dear Draco, for I will not have it." Narcissa's face pinched itself into an unpleasant angered look before a blank expression took its place.

Obviously Narcissa was still upset about two years ago when Goyle junior had accidentally breaking four marble busts in the Maleficent Gazebo, named in honor of Draco's many times great Aunt Maleficent Malfoy. Aunt Maleficent was an honored figure in the Malfoy family tree, a great witch whose ingenuity had helped his family gain much of its early wealth and prestige during the Holy Grail Crusades. Maleficent was a heroine of sorts to his mother, so it came to no surprise that she had banned Goyle from entering her home when he had broken Maleficent's statue. The other three had been forgettable ancestors, but Goyle had the bad luck to finish his magnificent bout of clumsiness by sitting on Maleficent's head, shattering the once glorious statue.

Draco smiled as he remembered the chaos that had ensued after Goyle's act. His mother had chased the boy around the Gazebo while shouting obscenities and waving what remained of Maleficient's head before remembering her wand in her left hand. She had hexed poor Goyle with some rather painful curses that made the rounds the Potter herd had placed on Draco and his two friends in fourth year look like child's play. 

"Of course Mother. What Goyle did was unacceptable."

"He should take waltzing lessons. Yes, he should take classes on how to be a gentleman. In my day all Wizards were forced to learn how to act courteously, except for those who could not afford the lessons and had to made due by emulation."

"Like those Weasleys?" Draco asked, eager for some dirt on the family he loathed above all others… except for the last remaining Potter of course.

Narcissa frowned, the movement creating unkind wrinkles at the bridge of Narcissa's stiff nose. "The Weasleys were not always a poor family, my son. Never were they as rich as the Malfoys, but their falling from grace is a recent occurrence. You would do well to remember that wealth and lack of wealth do segregate the best from the worst—my own family was hardly considered among the wealthy wizard families until the exorbitant dowdies from the last three generations of Vesuvi women added substantial gallons and priceless treasures to our family vault. I have not taught you well, my son, to remember your manners. It does not bode well to talk ill of pureblood wizards, regardless of how low they have fallen financially."  

Draco winced at his mother's scathing tone. "But MOTHER, the Weasleys are muggle-lovers!"

The great woman sighed and shook her head, her forehead tightening unbecomingly into a look of saddened gloom. The latest AntiAging Spells and Potions were unkind to the facial movements, Draco realized, wishing yet again that his mother would lay off the strange Botulinum Potion. In his opinion she looked half her age even without the barrage of Beauty Spells and Potions she forced on her body daily. "My dear son, one day you will learn that it is the blood that matters. After all, the Weasley family does have a great deal of honor in their family. And how many times has your father asked you to remain civil and friendly to that boy Harry Potter, and how many times have you disobeyed him?  Indeed, if we were to judge ourselves by the deeds we lived rather then our families' wealth you would realize you fall well below the Weasley's. You must learn honor, Draco, if you have any hope of succeeding in the future."

"But-"

Narcissa held up one elegant palm to cease her son's whining tone. "I grow weary of your complaints, my son. Now watch how polite society functions rather than the brutish slime you seem to prefer to socialize with." With that Narcissa lightly tapped the crystal bell on the back desk, announcing her presence to the absent enchanter.

A long moment passed without the crystal smith's appearance, but Narcissa remained calm by the enchanter's tardiness. Draco would have smashed a statue to punish the man's tardiness, but Narcissa remained politely motionless. Draco was about to voice a complaint against the enchanter when a blast of cold air infused the room, announcing the presence of the crystal smith.

Although Draco had been expecting a portly wizard, he was astonished to behold a pretty witch younger then his mother. She smiled at Narcissa and pointedly ignored Draco. "Mrs. Malfoy! How good to see you again! I trust the replication you commissioned of Maleficent Malfoy's unfortunate bust is holding up well in the new Gazebo."

Draco winced, because the new Maleficent bust had a will of its own, often speaking its own mind when visitors were present and always ragging on Draco to be a better Malfoy, like her son Louis the Magnificent. Draco much preferred the mute marble version of Maleficent, but unfortunately he was stuck with the enchanted crystal version.

Stupid Goyle.

 Narcissa sent a scathing look in Draco's direction, as if sensing that her son was thinking ill thoughts about Maleficent Malfoy, but allowed a light bubbly laugh float from her lips. "Oh, the enchanted crystal bust of our dear Aunt Maleficent is beyond perfection, Madame Crystal Smith."

The woman smiled, (showing more tooth then should be allowed in a proper smile, Draco thought to himself sourly), and waved her hand in a friendly gesture. "Please address me as Madame Brillons, Mrs. Malfoy. My departed father Luire was a true Crystal Smith, I am but a juvenile compared to his mastery of the crystal enchantments." The woman's French accent was almost as unfathomable as that Beauxbaton snob Fleur Delacour from fourth year. Honestly, if someone lived in Britain they had better speak the language tolerably well! Especially if they WORKED in a shop in Britain!

Narsissa, however, simply smiled.   "Madame Brillons, then, I am still amazed by the beauty of your work. My husband was so impressed by the commissioned bust that he wishes to have his own bust made of enchanted crystal!"

Draco winced, imagining a portable bust of his father yelling at him to be friends with Potter and to uphold the family honor.

"But I did not journey all this way to Diagon Alley about my husbands wish for an enchanted crystal bust in his image. It would take him months to sit for such a piece of artwork, and he does not have the luxury of those precious moments available to him. His work in the ministry, of course, is very time consuming. No, I have come for a different reason—a crystal gift to bestow upon the neighbors new to our area."

The French woman nodded slowly, a toothy smile creeping up on her lips again. "Yes, yes, I can see the perfect piece to bestow upon new acquaintances to your neighborhood." The woman glided over to an rather ugly statue of a gnome, her fingernails a nasty shade of pink Draco was sure he had seen on Pansy's own fingertips one or two times before.

"Mother, that piece is ugly." Draco whispered fiercely to his mother's ear, only to earn a swift elbow in the ribs.

"Hush, my son. You lack an appreciation for the finer arts." Narcissa hissed before gliding herself over to the statue.

But the French crystal smith was motioning to a piece beside the ugly gnome. As Narcissa and Draco were unable to see the statue Madame Brillons was gesturing to, the woman pulled the statue away from the others. Draco nodded in appreciation to the statue, finding little fault to its subject. It was a small statue of a cat not unlike Draco's own Bast, but the enchanted crystal feline was limited to only blinking up at the wizards above her and purring in contentment.

Narcissa laughed and clapped her hands, finding the statue to be perfection. "The statue is of an Ailuros cat, I see. It's magnificent!"

The woman nodded solemnly. "I was unable to craft this statue from the example of a live Ailuros but had to rely on a portrait a friend smuggled out of Egypt. The Ailuros is a mighty animal, but unfortunately is not allowed out of the Egyptian borders."

Both Draco and Narcissa nodded, although the two shared hidden smiles. The Malfoy household held one of the rare and beautiful felines--Draco's bronze cat Bast was probably the only Ailuros in all of Great Britain. The feline had cost a small fortune, but had been a special present for Draco's 15th birthday.

Money was object for the Malfoy's when it came to purchasing a present, especially if it was for him. Draco thought with a smirk, turning to head to the front of the shop. But as he turned his rope sleeve caught on the ugly gnome crystal, sending the priceless (if ugly) statue hurling towards the ground…

***

Author's Note: Delusions is my baby, but I want to thank Sharie (my roommate) and Fly for reading Delusions and adding some humor bits. Fly is responsible for the absurd spelling of El Nino, by the way!

I realize some people will be taken aback by the characterization of Draco, but I'm trying to keep him canon. I always saw him as spoiled rather then abused o.o;; But don't worry, Delusions will be D/G, but it takes time—both Ginny and Draco will grow together XD.

And I treasure constructive criticism! The review button is more then your friend! It is your destiny!  *points*