[A/N: I own nothing. Only the plot of this fic, I do own. Again, sorry for the delay]

.:VI:. Two Heads Are Better Than One

You would think that as a Malfoy, this Malfoy in fact, you'd be able to make a great deal of decisions. Quite the opposite in fact. Young Draco, since this the dawn of his days, he never really had to make an important decision. Joining the Quidditch team? Of course, his father personally took care of arranging that, as we all know. Elected Head Boy? Well that was a given, couldn't you think of a scandal it would cause if not?

So as you can plainly see, it was quite an old fairy tale that Lucius made all the decisions in Draco's life, no question. A Malfoy wouldn't have any reason to rebel now would they? Who doesn't want to live in a great big Manor, surrounded with heaps of gold at your finger tips, and not having to give one thing back to society?

Things faltered slightly when Lucius was arrested, Draco couldn't even fathom how his father could convince the Ministry that he wasn't the one that lead the Dark Lord's armies in the War of the Seven Suns. So of course he was released but always under the ever watchful eye of Dumbledore.

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Draco had always relied on the facts to back him up, he was always accessed to the facts, of course, nothing a little sneaking wouldn't hurt, but let's not get into that. But now the facts were against him. This Weasley could be his downfall; his entire plan could crumble by the freckled hands of this Weasley. A puzzle, she was; he knew this already. But now this proposition of hers was most perplexing. What was her intent? Stay with him for a few weeks, run off and claim he kidnapped her? You couldn't really trust anyone these days.

It was one of Draco's main goals in life to render another person speechless, thus giving him the opportunity to ridicule them further. But this wasn't the situation Draco was used to.

"It's none of your business," she stated quite stubbornly.

"It's none of my business if you wander around London without a memory, now is it Weasley?"

The freckles on her face stood out a little more, but still she kept her composure, it was damn near irritating.

"It's your choice now, Weasley,"

"Well then, why did you run away?"

"I didn't run away, I created a carefully constructed plan to-," he paused. "This isn't about me; it's about you meddling in places where a Weasley should not,"

"I –er- I didn't want to go through another year of Hogwarts," she said.

"Don't lie to me Weasley, I saw Potter give you that ring, I know what will happen if you go back," Weasley turned paler with every word, she knew it was true.

"Someone's afraid of commitment," he taunted, like they were back within the walls of Hogwarts. "Oh this really is brilliant. Potter, who saved your skin last summer, is being rejected! And you just can't bear to tell him the truth, can you Weasley?"

Draco didn't expect her to burst into tears, that wasn't like her; he knew she'd be angry. But now she was fuming.

"All you have to do is say it," he mocked. "'I want to stay with you, Draco,'"

"No," she said simply.

"Are you quite sure, Weasley?"

"No..." she didn't look sure either.

"What's it going to be?" Draco really couldn't stand this, it was one thing that he was actually giving her a choice and now she thinks she could call the shots, not bloody likely.

There was a long pause between the two, Draco had half a mind to curse her right here and now, the other half wanted to see what her decision would be.

"Fine," she said, he had almost drawn his wand ready to curse her. "I want to stay with you Draco,"

Draco didn't know whether to be irritated or utterly, utterly relieved.

$

Sleep didn't come to Draco that night. It teased him into drowsiness and escaped his grasp just before he drifted off. It was a curse when being a light sleeper. He knew that, but he liked to blame it on Weasley's incessant breathing.

Draco of course, took the bed while Weasley slept under the boarded window next to it. Very odd how she could adapt so quickly; perhaps an hour after their discussion she laid out her robes on the floor and used her Hogwarts sweater as a pillow.

Draco watched the hands on his pocket watch turn ever so slowly to there destination of five in the morning, for that would be the time for Draco to start to prepare to get ready for his journey. Our journey, he corrected himself.

Of course it was at this moment when Draco noticed that Weasley hadn't really said anything and he just presumed. He was right, so what did it matter? What did it matter to him if she and Potter had problems? Nothing. He didn't care a bit. Nothing at all. But in the interest of bothering her beyond reason, why didn't she want to live the happy life with Potter? And have wonderful redheaded Quidditch stars with bad eyesight? Maybe she was just having an identity crisis and needed to "find herself".

Draco recalled how he made Weasley's life miserable in their days at Hogwarts. There wasn't really any reason for it; it was just what she stood for that pissed him off so much; happiness, good over evil, and all that good stuff. That and she was the weakest of the bunch. But the reactions he got out of her were remarkable. His goal had been to make her shed a tear, and when that didn't work he just tried harder. Sometimes she'd ignore his teases and taunts, sometimes shed go so far as to explode at him like a howler sent for Longbottom.

Everything has an end, his taunts died when she became involved with Potter and his merry group of friends and fans. So there wasn't room for him to sneakily make her life miserable with the likes of Potter around, especially with that incident at the end of last term. Draco had honestly expected Potter to have already proposed, for she clearly didn't get around much if she didn't hear the rumors about that ring he had gotten her.

Five o'clock, his pocket watch read. In one swift move, Draco stood next to the bed and with one quick wave of his wand the bed was a stray piece of drywall. The chairs melted into the floor, really what was the point in conjuring them in the first place, he pondered. Perhaps he thought he'd be staying longer.

With Draco's shrunken trunk safely tucked away in his robes, he was ready to leave. Almost out the door and "Leaving so soon, are we?"

"That was the idea," Draco said without looking back.

"Well, I'd love to disappoint you, so you'll just have to wait for me,"

"Really, Weasley—"

"Just a bloody second,"

Fine, he thought. She actually was by his side in a matter of seconds. She had transfigured her robes into a wooly cloak. Good, now she wouldn't complain every five seconds that she was cold.

"Now what?" Draco and Weasley were now standing in a dismal corridor with shivering Florissant lights. "We have to Disapparate," was his response. Oh blast.

"Come here," and without waiting for and answer, Draco grabbed her round the middle and said the incantation.

$

Where are our two heroes off to? Will Draco let Ginny tag along or will he leave her somewhere else with no memory? Why is Draco in such a hurry to leave? Why doesn't Ginny want to go back to Harry? Only time will tell.

Tune in next time to The Wrath of Ginevra wherever Internet may be available.

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And here it is, your moment of Zen:

"Sell my guitars? Would you tell Picasso to sell his guitars?" --Dewy Finn,

School of Rock