Chapter One

Draco stared at the lawyer in unflattering disbelief. The Malfoy's fortune, even at it's greatest, was nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the old man's. And all he had to do was marry the Weasley girl. He looked over at her speculatively. Would she or wouldn't she? He remembered the Weasley family's hand-me-down clothes and books from Hogwarts days and decided she would. Nobody in their right mind could want to be that poor.

He had a sudden vision of coming home to his father, announcing that he had remade the family's fortune. Finally, he would be accepted; his father would be proud of him for the first time in his life. He was sure his father's objections to his marrying a Weasley would vanish like smoke in the wind when he found out how much it had gained him. He began to tally up the money in his mind. Maybe he could convince the girl -- Ginevra?—to let him be the financial manager of their money. It only made sense after all. Her family had never had enough money to need managing. He could give her a monthly sum, and convince her he had the rest wisely invested. He would take a fair part to his father, and set aside more for his own personal use. Maybe he could buy his own manor. The thought pleased him. A manor bigger than his father's even. Being married wouldn't be half bad, either. He'd have a wife to keep away gold digging sluts like Pansy, but enough freedom to do as he liked if someone else came along. Altogether, he was well pleased. For the first time in his life, things were looking up.

Draco stood up, ready to head down to the magistrate's office and get married immediately. He looked over at Ginevra, and was surprised to see that she looked far from happy. She was deathly white and was looking at him with something like…disgust. He couldn't be quite sure though, as most girls he knew pasted looks of admiration on their faces when he was around. It must just be the shock that made her look like that.

"Thank you for your time," he said pleasantly to the lawyer, who was looking rather at loose ends. Draco couldn't understand what the confusion as about. "Shall we go then?" he asked Ginevra, holding out his hand to help her up from her chair.

Ginevra looked startled. "Go where?" she asked cautiously. She ignored his hand and got up, going around to the other side of her chair so that it was between them. Draco wondered if she was possibly a bit simple. No matter. He wouldn't be spending much time with her. He spoke in slow, gentle tones, as to a very small child. "To get married, of course."

For at least the third time in the space of an hour, Ginny as struck dumb. He actually thought she would marry him? He had to be delusional. All the attention he had ever paid her was to tease her when Ron was around just to get a rise out of her brother, and now he thought they were going to be married, just like that! Suddenly Ginny was livid.

"You are the absolute last man on Earth I would ever consider marrying, I don't care how much money we'd get!" She turned to flounce out of the room, when a hand caught her arm in an iron grip and pulled her around none to gently to face him.

"Perhaps we could discuss this outside," he said through a tight, forced smile, with a glance at the lawyers, who were looking on with great interest. Then, without so much as a by your leave, he drug her out the door. Ginny fought to pull her arm away, but it was no use. "Let me go!" she hissed at him, growing angrier and angrier. She tried to reach for her wand with her other hand, but he was too quick for her and snatched it out of her pocket before she could get it. Pulling her behind him, he dragged her to a dim dead end and pinned her shoulder to the wall with the hand not holding her arm. "Look," he said in carefully calm voice. "I know you don't want to marry me, but it wouldn't be like it meant anything. We'd split the money fifty-fifty and go our separate ways, we wouldn't even have to tell anyone. You're practically destitute, I could use the money, it benefits us both. Be reasonable." Draco's eyes lingered pointedly on the frayed sleeves and patched shoulder of her best robes.

It wouldn't be like it meant anything. The words echoed in her mind, chilling her to her soul. She thought of her parent's marriage, and of Bill's to Fleur. They all adored their spouses, they were best friends and soul mates, anyone could see that. It had always been her dream to have a marriage like that as well, and now, Draco Malfoy of all people, was proposing a marriage that 'wouldn't mean anything'. The money was tempting, but marriage to him was unthinkable.

"I am not going to marry you. Let me go." Her voice was icy, and Draco's smile faltered. Ginny watched as his eyes filled with rage, and she wondered fearfully if he was going to hit her. But he smothered his rage and forced something like a smile, though it was much closer to a grimace.

"I can tell you're overtired, this has been a shock to you. I'll just let you have some time to think it over, I'll find you in say…a week or so? We'll talk about it then." He probably meant to be kind and sympathetic, but she could hear the barely covered fury behind his patronizing words, and her own temper rose. She'd had enough.

"Let me GO!" she cried, bringing her knee up so that it hit him in the groin. He doubled over in pain, and she snatched her wand back from him and ran away without looking back.

By the time Draco could get up, Ginny was long gone. He winced as he rose, walking carefully out of the building. That hadn't gone at all as he wanted it to, an unwelcome surprise for someone who got everything he wanted. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his anger. He wasn't a child, he couldn't throw a tantrum; anger would get him nowhere. He had to calm down and think logically.

As he walked, he realized he didn't know where he wanted to go. He had no desire to go home and face his mother, who was expecting him for tea, nor did he think Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade would be safe. It wasn't so much that he thought there would be an attack, but more that being a Malfoy made him an immediate object of enmity. He pushed this thought out of his mind, and opted for a nearby park. It was a Muggle park, and therefore beneath him, but at this point he didn't care. He sat down on a park bench and began to think. She obviously was a woman of very little sense, so appealing to her reason wasn't going to work, and it was beneath his dignity to beg. But he had to have the money! He might be able to force her, put her under the Imperius Curse. No, he was walking the grey side of the law already, and he couldn't keep her under it forever. He hadn't any desire to end up in Azkaban. He could sweet talk her, court her until she agreed to marry him. He grimaced. Charming stupid little girls wasn't his favorite thing to do, but if that's what it took, he'd do it. He could be charming, if absolutely necessary. He thought for awhile longer, but no better ideas came to him.

Sighing, he got up and ventured to the nearest magical florist. Two dozen roses, charmed for long life and wonderful color and scent, would be a fair start. They would set him back quite a bit, but it didn't matter, he'd have it all back in spades soon. He probably ought to include a little note of apology as well. He tried to think of something that sounded sincere without being too gushy. It wasn't easy. Sincerity had never been his strong point, nor had it been considered a virtue worth cultivating when he was growing up.

The next day, Ginny came in from job hunting to find two dozen red roses waiting for her in the kitchen of the Burrow and her mother eager to find out who they were from. Ginny glanced at the small card, thankfully in an envelope, to discover they were from Draco. Who the hell did he think he was kidding with all this apology garbage?! She was livid, but managed to keep her anger under wraps as she told her mother they were from someone who had missed the funeral.

Mrs. Weasley looked skeptical. "Red roses?" she asked. "For a funeral?"

Ginny shrugged and swiftly moved them into an out of the way corner, slipping the card into her pocket to read more carefully later. She'd decided there was no need to tell her parents about the fateful contents of the will.

"I got a job today!" she said brightly, hoping to distract her mother from the mysterious roses. She grabbed a handful of silverware and began to set the table.

"That's wonderful!" Mrs. Weasley gave Ginny a quick hug. "Where?"

Ginny sighed a bit and prepared for a fight. This wasn't the way she wanted to tell her mother, but Draco hadn't given her much choice. She mentally cursed him, and finally told her mother, "The Apothecary. In Diagon Alley."

"Diagon Alley?" Mrs. Weasley shrieked. "It's dangerous there! Anything could happen to you! There was an attack there not three weeks ago!"

"It's dangerous everywhere, mother," Ginny said with forced calm. "I can't stay locked up here forever. And besides, with an attack three weeks ago, they're not likely to attack there again soon."

This had been the wrong thing to say. Mrs. Weasley's face turned red and Ginny knew from years' experience she was to get a long, angry lecture.

Ginny was spared the lecture as her dad and brother Bill walked in the door, both looking exhausted.

"Do you know," Mrs. Weasley cried upon seeing her husband, "that your daughter plans to work in Diagon Alley?"

Mr. Weasley didn't see this in quite the same light. Taking off his cloak, he said mildly, "Well she has to work somewhere. Diagon Alley is as good a place as any." Seeing Mrs. Weasley's furious look, he added, "She'll be perfectly safe there. It's heavily warded now."

Mrs. Weasley gave a resigned sigh, though she looked only slightly consoled. "Well you'll be home at night at least."

"Actually…no," Ginny said quietly. "A flat above the shop comes with the job. I'll be living there."

Mrs. Weasley's face turned even redder, Mr. Weasley put his hand on her shoulder, and she didn't say anything. Ginny got the impression that this was something that had been argued over time and again in private.

"When do you start, Gin?" Bill asked, sitting down at the table with a handful of crisps.

Ginny smiled gratefully at her eldest brother and handed him a glass of water. "I can start moving in tomorrow, and I start work day after tomorrow."

"So soon?" Mr. Weasley asked, a bit surprised. Mrs. Weasley remained determinedly silent.

"A lot of people left after Diagon Alley after the attack," Bill said between bites. "They'll take anyone they can get."

"Thanks, Bill," Ginny said sarcastically.

Bill just grinned.

"I'm going to go start packing," Ginny informed them. She could tell her mother was near the breaking point, and she wanted out of the stifling kitchen while the getting was good. She grabbed the roses on her way out; she wasn't sure what she'd do with them, but taking them out of the kitchen would mean one less uncomfortable question to answer.

Ginny sighed in relief as she climbed the stairs to her room. One battle won. She could work in Diagon Alley. She glanced down at the roses she held carelessly in her hand. One yet to fight, apparently. Suddenly she felt exhausted.

Draco swore vilely at the remains of the flowers he'd sent the ungrateful whore. She was insane-- certifiably, clinically insane. What woman in her right mind would send back two dozen very expensive roses, blackened and withered, with a scathing note of refusal. He threw the roses into the fire, where they burst into flame immediately. Any other woman would have been thrilled to get flowers from him. Pansy would have fallen down and kissed his feet in gratitude. She had her faults, but at least she had the proper attitude. Maybe he would take her out to dinner tonight, let her soothe his wounded pride.

Draco stared moodily into the fire, thinking. Gifts weren't going to win her. Maybe he should go talk to her again. Be charming. He wondered if she still lived in that pisshole of a house with her family. If she did, he wouldn't be able to get near her. Those horrible brothers of hers would just as soon kill him as look at him. They'd make it look like an accident, too. Draco's mood grew fouler as the afternoon wore on and his potential wealth slipped further out of his grasp.

Night came and brought no improvement in his mood. Finally he floo'd Pansy and informed her they were going out to dinner. Pansy's homely face lit up, and she agreed enthusiastically, as he had expected she would. There was proper respect and gratitude. Not like that little Muggle-loving tramp who wouldn't know quality and class if it hit her in her freckled face. Why couldn't it have been Pansy he had to marry for the money. Pansy would have married him in an instant. Any girl would have. He had it all-- money, looks, pure blood. So why did it have to be the one girl in all of England who wanted nothing to do with him? The Fates clearly hated him.

Draco stared at a stain on the wall behind Pansy as she droned on and on about some new fashion, or a scandal, or something like that. He'd lost all interest in her and everything she was saying about five minutes into dinner, and was wondering how soon he could escape. He'd forgotten how indescribably boring she was. She might be properly grateful, but she hadn't had an original thought in her head from the day she was born.

"Have you been down to Diagon Alley lately, Draco?" He ignored her, and she continued without pause. "It's practically dead. A lot of the shopkeepers have left, and even Madam Malkin's is gone. Now I have to go all the way to Hogsmeade for my robes, and Gladrags isn't anything like as good as Madam Malkin's." She pouted a bit and checked to see if she had any of Draco's attention. Seeing that she hadn't, she continued on a different thread. "I did see one person down in Diagon Alley the other day though. It was that Gryffindor girl a year below us, I can't remember her name, you know, the one with all the awful brothers and all that nasty red hair?" Pansy had Draco's full attention now. She wasn't sure if it was good or bad, as the redhead was quite pretty, but at least it was attention. "Well she said she got a job there. I can't believe anyone would be so stupid. She's going to live there too. She's going to help revitalize Diagon Alley. Think's she's being noble," Pansy sneered.

Pansy now had Draco's full attention. If she were in Diagon Alley, that meant he could actually go talk to her, make her see reason. "Where Pansy? Where is she working?" he demanded.

Pansy looked rather alarmed. She might not be the brightest girl, but she could spot competition a mile away. "I don't remember," she said primly.

Draco stood up and leaned over her, making himself as intimidating as possible. "Where, Pansy?" he asked with great deliberateness.

Pansy was now truly afraid. "I think…I think she said the Apothecary…" she squeaked.

Draco gave a cry of triumph and strode out of the restaurant, leaving a shocked Pansy staring after him. He'd caught scent of his prey.

Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own any of this, I'm not making any money off of it.

A/N:

First off, thanks to all those who have reviewed. It's tremendously encouraging. Thanks in particular to Yazethet, for her thoughtful review. J

Also: I'm going to try very hard to keep this updated regularly. I have the plot mostly worked out in my head, it's just a matter of finding time to write. That said, if you'd like to be notified of updates, put your email in the review and I'll drop you a line.