Author's Note: Okay. So I have NO idea what was up with Fanfiction.net for a while…but a lot of reviews only showed up in my email.
I, unfortunately, assuming that they also showed up here, didn't save them…. So there are only a few reviews that I have saved for this last chapter, and in the interest of saving time and not leaving anyone out…THANK YOU EVERYONE for reviewing. I got quite a few for this last chapter, and that always makes me happy. Especially since a lot of them were new readers – always good.
Oh! And quite a few of you complained that the last chapter was too short – my apologies. I try not to make them too short, but sometimes my schedule is a bit tight and I cut them off so that you guys can have a part. So be grateful. *glares* Teehee. Anyway. On with the show!
Back up in her room, Ginny threw herself on her bed and tore the seal off of her letter.
Miss Virginia Weasley,
You are cordially invited to a gala in celebration of the re-election of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. No guests please, as this gala is invitation only.
Your presence is requested at half-past nine on Thursday, the 14th of July at the Malfoy Manor.
Please respond immediately.
And here it was stamped with the Malfoy crest.
Ginny was fuming. How dare he! What was he playing at, inviting her to another party?! Did he honestly think that she'd say yes? Well, he thought wrong. All she had to do was return the invitation with a cordial 'No thank you, I'd rather stuff my wand up my-'
"Ginny?" …why do they do this to me?
"Yes?"
"Come on down for breakfast, dear!" Muttering, Ginny tossed aside the invitation with a glare, and stuck her tongue out angrily at Little Red Riding Hood, who was skipping her way across her ceiling. Stomping angrily down the stairs, Ginny reached the kitchen in a huff. Her family glanced at her in alarm as she threw herself into a chair and grabbed a piece of toast off of Ron's plate.
"What?" She snapped, through a full mouth. Mrs. Wealsey pursed her lips. She hated it when her children were rude – and technically Ginny was no longer a child, though she was certainly acting like one at the moment, so this made it worse.
"Virginia, you-"
"Molly?" Mr. Weasley stuck his head out of the living room where he'd been talking with someone in the fireplace. "Molly don't forget – the Pearsons are coming over today. We might want to spiff the place up a bit." Mrs. Weasley whirled about to face her children.
"Did you all hear that? We're having company. So you two," she pointed at Ginny and Ron. "Outside for the rest of the morning – I want to clean!" Ginny scowled and Ron looked sideways at her edgily. "And you two, you…" Mrs. Weasley blinked at the twins. "…Why are you here, anyway?" Ginny looked up and wondered as well – the twins had their own apartment over their joke shop in Diagon Alley, and while they stayed over sometimes, they certainly hadn't the night before. They grinned.
"George wouldn't cook breakfast."
"I don't like to cook!"
"And I was hungry."
"Nothing like a home-cooked meal!"
"So we thought-"
"-why not come home for breakfast?"
"Not like you noticed, anyway," Fred winked.
"Besides, we love our mummy!" George simpered in a sickeningly sweet voice as he and Fred advanced, arms outstretched, to give their 'mummy' a hug.
"Good lord, not now," Mrs. Weasley chuckled, pushing them away. "Alright, you two, take some food and get on with you!" She shooed them away. "Are you finished?" she asked Ron and Ginny. Without waiting for an answer she whisked their plates away. "Outside! Now! I don't care what you do but stay away from this house while I clean!" And with that she jostled them outside. Ginny turned and glared at the house, and Ron hastily moved away.
"Er, I'll just…go… de-gnome the garden…"
Draco Malfoy rubbed his palms together in true evil spirit. His revenge was getting the better of him. He had less than a week to plan it all out, and he wanted everything to go perfectly. He would embarrass her, of course, as she had embarrassed him; make her feel out of place, unwanted, that sort of thing. Then he might throw in a little bit of subtle insults – only ones which she would recognize, to provoke her into creating a scene. It all played out so wonderfully in his mind…
"Ah, here's the lad!" Draco's eyes jerked open. He'd been stretched out on his large bed, imagining what he would do once he got Weasley to the party. Then he heard a familiar voice, a dreaded voice, and he was absolutely seething.
"Minister?"
"Draco, my boy! So glad to see you, so glad… heard about my re-election of course – very proud, yes, very proud. Public knows what's good for them, if you ask me; glad they didn't trust some nobody with such a high profile job, goodness me…" The Minister of Magic kept going on, congratulating himself on his re-election while Draco stared at him in stony silence.
"Is there something I can do for you?"
"AH. Right. Well, you see, I was just coming by to drop off the complete guest list so that your mother – lovely woman to do this, isn't she? – could make the seating chart for dinner. However," the Minister craned his neck, looking around. "I don't seem to see her…" His voice trailed off hopefully. Draco continued to stare at him, hoping he could drive him away by sheer force of will. Fudge cleared his throat. "Right. Well, since she doesn't seem to be around, I'll just hand you the guest list. I trust that you'll keep it safe, eh?" He winked. Draco stared. "Well, I'll just be on my way then! See you in a few days, lad!" Draco waited until the Minister was halfway down the hall before calling for the house-elf.
"BITSY!" The small creature skidded into the room and promptly slammed the door after the minister. "Thank you. You may go."
Draco picked up the guest list. He scanned it, noting with satisfaction that Virginia Weasley's name was close to the top. Her parents had been invited as well, but had tactfully declined; Draco admired them just the slightest for this – he knew that they despised Fudge. Suddenly, a malicious thought wormed its way into his mind… Why shouldn't I…tweak the seating chart to sit the Weaselette next to me? … That would make my plan go much smoother…Draco began to chuckle. He felt so… malevolent. It was a rather exhilarating feeling. Another thought snuck into his mind, but he quickly pushed it away. Maybe it's easier to hate her than to…No. He shook his head to clear it, and grinning, went to show his mother the guest list.
