Chapter 4

A/N Sorry, the summary seems to have mislead people to think it'd be Draco and OC – I thought I was being subtle and mysterious and all, but it turns out I'm just stupid. Why is my life like that?

Disclaimer: All J.K.'s, people. And if you review, when I have Draco, you can hug him. Actually, no. You can look at him. Yes, you have my explicit permission to look at him.

Silver eyes gleamed maliciously behind their mask. "Where – is – he?" Lucius Malfoy asked, dangerously quiet. Pansy Parkinson whimpered at the barely controlled anger in his voice.

"I – I don't know, sir. He just left one day, in the middle of classes and everything. All of his stuff disappeared about a day later, probably to join him. No one knows where he's gone, I swear it!"

"Very well then. And, since the Dark Lord is no longer around, you shall refer to me as 'Master.'"

"Yes, Master."

"Good, good. Go back to school, then. I'm sure those meddling teachers will have noticed your absence. I shall have to find a more . . . knowledgeable informant."

Pansy's eyes filled with tears. "No, Master! I can find out! Please, let me serve you!"

Lucius regarded her coldly. "Very well. I suppose your being at that filthy, mudblood-overriden school has its benefits. Do what you can to find out where my damned son is. Don't make it clear that I'm back, though. I'd rather no one know my location at the moment. I'm trusting you with my secret, Parkinson . . . will you fail me?"

"No, Master! I would never!"

Lucius sneered at her back as she left. Silly, simpering girl. It was hard for him to believe that he had considered a betrothal with her and Draco – she wasn't worthy of wiping the dirt off of the shoes of the house of Malfoy. Even if his son was a blood traitor. His lip curled in a silent snarl as he remembered the humiliation he had been forced to suffer at the hands of that insolent brat. No matter . . . he would have his revenge soon enough. The snarl turned to a cold, unfeeling smile at the thought of his planned revenge. Oh, yes, Draco would regret his choice.

Pansy Parkinson fled back to Hogwarts, nearly in tears. She was always terrified out of her wits when she met with Lucius, but she really didn't have a choice – she would die before disobeying the wishes of her parents. Things were looking up for her, though. If she could just find out where Draco was living, she would be able to be on Lucius' good side. Now, if only she could get that ruddy Dumbledore to talk. . .

As Ginny walked home from the laundromat, she felt strangely depressed. Although she'd quite enjoyed the company of Wes, she felt completely alone among the muggles running around doing their daily work.

Immersed in her thoughts, she didn't even notice when she passed the store. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks and backed up, much to the protest of the pedestrian traffic around her. Staring at her out of a comfortable pet shop window was the most adorable dog she'd ever seen. Huge brown eyes shone out of a white face, as what she had mistaken for a rug lifted its face and barked happily at her through the glass. There might have even been a tail wagging, but she couldn't really tell under the hair.

Maybe a dog is just what I need, she thought, entering the store. There was a woman seated at a desk upon which was propped a large sign reading 'Information.' The large woman in a pink dress reminded Ginny horribly of Umbridge, from her fourth year. Mustering up her courage, Ginny approached the desk and asked hesitantly, "Um . . . excuse me . . . is that dog in the window for sale?"

The attendant smiled at her, making Ginny suddenly nervous on behalf of the small fly resting on the table. "Yes, dear, it is. It's a purebred shih tzu and Pomeranian mix, only $50 with kennel and three months worth of food."

Ginny had no idea how much that was in comparison to galleons, so she just paid and left. Fortunately, she had some money left over from the initial transition at Gringott's. She'd have to get a job eventually, but she was satisfied for now.

Walking back with the dog in her arms, Ginny felt blissful as she never had before. She had a dog. A pet. Something to connect her to the world she lived in now. Now maybe her apartment wouldn't be so lonely. When she got back, the dog assumed a place just in front of the door, lying with the back legs stretched out behind her and front legs in front.

She looks like a doormat, Ginny thought, suppressing a giggle. The dog looked at her reproachfully, as if guessing the reason for her mirth. "You need a name," Ginny mused out loud, changing back into her original self. Red hair tumbled down her slender shoulders and into her thoughtful brown eyes. "How about –"

She cut short her ideas as she walked into the closet, barely noticing that she was yet to turn on any of the lights, and the windowless apartment was in darkness. The dog had wandered into the bathroom, and Ginny shut the door on her. It was cute, and all, but Ginny had no intention of cleaning up any messes in the apartment at the moment.

She heard some movement behind her and froze. A stumble and muffled curse came from the main area. Throat tightening, Ginny walked out of the tiny closest. A strong hand clapped down on her shoulder, and she lost it. Whirling around, the fiery redhead screamed bloody murder into her assailants face, and he reeled backwards from the sheer force of her anger and terror.

"Bloody hell, girl!" The voice came from the dark, and Ginny nearly fainted in relief when she heard the silky elegance of Wes's voice, sounding quite harangued at the moment.

"Wes!" she gasped. "I'm sorry! You scared me so badly!"

"It's fine," he replied, smirking. "I'll only have permanent hearing damage."

"I really am sorry," Ginny acquiesced, then added accusingly, "but may I ask a) how you know where I live and b) why you scared me like that?"

Draco at least had the grace to look a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, my apologies about that. I wanted to talk to you, and so when I saw you pass the Laundromat again, I just followed you back." He paused and looked around. "Nice place you have. It's very . . . homey."

Ginny blushed, imaging mansions and castles and just really, really big houses. "It's not the best for now, but . . . it's home," she finished lamely, running a hand through her vibrant red curls.

He looked more closely at her. "Your hair . . . it's different."

Oh shit, Ginny thought. "It's a dye!" she crowed triumphantly, realizing a second too late that she'd just yelled in her moment of brilliance.

Meanwhile, wheels were turning in Draco's brain. He was not stupid, that one, and he knew a Weasley when he saw one. It was the littlest Weasley, standing here before him! The Weaslette!