Miss Cellophane
With that, she headed off to pay Draco Malfoy a visit.
It was much easier for Ginny to find the right staircase this time.
Briskly walking by Sir Cadogan's portrait –fortunately he was away- Ginny came to the long corridor. The room was at the end of it; the door was on the left side. Unlike the other times, there was no fire casting an orange glow against the opposite wall.
'He's not there yet,' Ginny thought.
She shivered as she crept into the cold room. She wondered how Ravenclaw did not mind the darkness of their part of the castle and absently lit the fire.
"Took you long enough."
Suppressing a screech, Ginny jumped felt her heart leap out of her chest as if the ceiling was suddenly a magnet.
"Are you insane?" she asked shakily. "My god…"
"Feeling a bit jumpy?"
Ginny stared at Draco with a withering look worthy of McGonagall.
"How much oxygen were you denied that you would pull a stunt like that?"
She put her arm on the side of the chair closest to her.
"The same oxygen you were deprived of when you skipped our meeting at lunch," he said nastily.
"I didn't skip," Ginny snapped. She sank into her chair and closed her eyes. "I didn't find the note until a few hours ago."
"Brilliant," he muttered.
"Sure! Just as brilliant as you putting a note in a book that you weren't sure I was going to look in."
Neither said anything for a full ten minutes; they simply satisfied themselves by glaring full force at the other.
"Would you stop looking at me like that and tell me what was so important?" Ginny said.
"I wanted to know what your plans were for getting the restricted book."
Ginny shrugged. "Go there late at night, and sneak it out."
Draco laughed derisively. "Just when I thought you couldn't get any stupider…"
"I started hanging around you."
"You've been around worse, Weasley; and at a younger age to boot."
Ginny's eyes flashed angrily. "Speaking of boots, what flavor is the bottom of your father's? I hear the dirt in Azkaban tastes like chocolate."
Draco went white.
"Oh, what's the matter, Malfoy? Packard got your tongue?"
"Don't mention that name near me." Draco said chillingly calm, standing over Ginny. The bluish veins in his neck became slightly visible with his obvious effort to contain his temper.
Ginny was unsympathetic. It was a bad idea to take her anger out on him – on anyone – but he had set himself up for an insult. It was an opening that Ron would definitely take.
"Understandable," she murmured complacently. "With the mess that your father's landed your family in, hearing an auror's name would make me shudder as well."
If it was possible, Draco went even paler.
He gazed at Ginny with rage in his eyes, but Ginny could see among the flickers of firelight that were reflected there, the beginning traces of confusion.
"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, suddenly quiet.
Ginny eyed him suspiciously. "Don't pretend that you don't know," she goaded.
"Cut the crap and just tell me why you think she's an auror!"
"My father told me," Ginny admitted, internally surprised that the Slytherin didn't know that already. "I wrote home about her, because I always talk about the new teacher who takes the Defense spot. And my father told me that she worked as an auror for about twenty years. Then she decided to teach auror techniques to trainees. Now she's a Defense teacher."
Draco looked at Ginny intently as if he were measuring what she said: was it the truth? Was it a lie? He looked away suddenly and began to pace.
"What…what's the problem?" Ginny asked curiously. She felt a rush of glee knowing that she held something over his head.
Draco ran a stiff hand through his hair repeatedly. Ginny noticed that every time he did, it only fell back into his face. It seemed a ridiculous thing to do, Ginny thought; but from the look on his face, he needed the distraction.
"It's just like you said, Weasley," he spat. "It's not good for her to be here…around me, when things are so…strained right now."
Ginny suppressed a snort. 'Strained? That's putting it lightly.'
"It's your father's fault for getting you into this mess," Ginny told him with a superior look in her eye.
Draco turned to face her. "I didn't hear all of this mouth from you this afternoon when Potter was rubbing your nose in the ground like a naughty puppy."
Ginny flushed and quickly fell down from her euphoric state. "You heard that?"
Draco smirked, looking the tiniest bit relieved that the fire was off of him for the moment. "'Oh, Potter you prat!'" he mimicked falsely. "Most of the bloody Great Hall heard it. It's just that no one cares. At least not about you."
Ginny thought about how Ron had remained silent while Harry patronized her.
"You didn't hear all of what happened. Don't pretend to have," she said fiercely, looking away.
"Then stop trying to act as if your family is so much better than mine. 'We're the sodding Weasleys,' " he imitated, "'Poor as dirt, but hearts as rich as gold. And we all love each other as well!' Give me a goddamn break. Your brother doesn't care for you any more than my father cares for me; it's all business."
"That's not true!"
Draco gave Ginny a long, disgusted look. "Just you wait and see."
"I won't listen to this," Ginny said walking to the door.
Draco strode to where Ginny was in long strides and grabbed her by the arm. "Yes, you will," he said in a low, dangerous voice.
"You can't make me."
"I won't have to; you made a promise to me last night. A Wizards Promise – did you forget that already?"
His grip on her increased in pressure. Not to the point of her being hurt, but just enough so that she would have to work at tugging her arm away.
"I didn't forget," Ginny said quietly. "I'm just regretting it already."
"Aw, that's too bad."
Draco's hand was still holding Ginny, and he kept a steady searing gaze on her, as if he wanted to burn the memory of what she had promised to him the night before in the front of her retinas. Ginny didn't know how long they stood in that same pose, unmoving, their bodies almost touching, but slowly, she began to realize something.
"You need me, don't you," she asked him, though it was very clearly a statement.
Draco's grip lessened until he let go of her fully. He went to collapse into a chair.
"I told you that already," he said, not admitting anything.
Ginny walked over to where he sat tiredly, and crouched until their faces were on the same level.
"But more than you thought you did before. You need the resources that I have. Don't try and tell me I have nothing!" Ginny said when Draco began to open his mouth.
"Fine," he disclosed. "I don't know why my father didn't tell me who that woman was, but there has to be a good reason. You have to…"
Ginny's eyes narrowed wickedly. Draco's did the same.
"I need you to keep doing things like that…telling me things – getting information."
Ginny was affronted. "I won't spy for you, Malfoy."
"That's not what I'm asking," he snapped. "Just…just go along with what I'm saying for now." Ginny was hesitant. "That's all I can give you."
Ginny looked at him intently. "So you'll tell me what I need to know, if I tell you what you need?"
Draco nodded slowly.
"Alright," Ginny agreed. She continued to look at the boy in front of her. "Truce?" she said quietly.
Draco glanced at her hand and then back at her face.
"If we have to do this every night, it's going to lose its meaning."
"Better that then rip each other's heads off."
"I'm not so sure…"
Ginny ignored him. "What did you have in mind concerning me getting the book?"
He looked at her haughtily. "A plan much better than trying to nick it with Filch roaming around, and his cat just shaking to catch truant students out of bed. For starters, I might go with you – not that I think you're incapable, although I do. It's merely that getting the book will go smoother if you have a lookout. That way, you can get it without having to watch out for yourself at the same time. Also, I want to do it by the end of this week."
Ginny was wary. "I know that we should get the book soon, but why the hurry?"
"The faster we find out what that book has to offer, the faster I can get that hag off my back."
"Packard?" Ginny asked tentatively.
"No, Father Christmas," he snapped. "Who the hell else would I be talking about?"
"Don't get snippy with me, Malfoy!" Ginny ordered, pushing her hair out of her face. "I thought you would have learned your lesson in class today."
Draco looked furious once more, but then his eyes lightened as an idea began to form in his mind. "The woman seems to like you, doesn't she Weasel?" he asked, although it was more to himself than to Ginny.
Ginny shook her head nervously. "I…I guess so. Actually, I don't really know her at all."
Looking at Ginny with a decidedly cynical, yet sage look he said, "People on the 'Good Side' don't need to really know someone to assume that they do. Packard sees that you're a Weasley, a Gryffindor, a Potter-worshipper,"- Ginny glared – "and she's enamored with you. That's all it takes. But I'm the son of Lucius Malfoy. You might as well call me public enemy number one."
Ginny felt herself reddening, although she didn't want to admit to him that he was right and give him the satisfaction.
Ginny mentally shook her head.
'No,' she thought firmly. 'He's just bitter.'
When Draco realized that Ginny was not going respond, he went back to the original topic.
"Anyway, instead of walking the crooked line, I might try on some Gryffindor Gold for a chance and get the book the legal way. Ask Packard for permission to check the book out."
Ginny almost laughed.
"Do you think it'll work? I mean, Lockhart was a pushover, but that was because his brain was on himself most of the time. Packard has her head firmly planted on her shoulders."
"How will I know if it works, Weasley? At least try to think of a way to charm her, using your brain isn't always a dangerous thing."
The redhead bit her tongue and looked around the setting of the room once more. The Ravenclaw patterns seemed to dance on the walls with the rise and fall of the flames.
"Malfoy, I know I keep bringing this up, but why are you asking me to help you? What about Crabbe and Goyle and the rest of them?"
Draco stared at the fire. "It would be best for them to stay out of the limelight."
"I would think that they would try and help you, if you're such good friends."
A chilly laugh echoed around the room. "What good are they to my father, if they are under suspicion as well? Sure, they would help us if we could reciprocate, but all aiding us will give them right now is trouble. They're looking out for themselves, Weasel."
"Some friends," Ginny scoffed.
"Sounds the same to me as a traitorous brother."
"Ron would never betray me," Ginny said quietly, avoiding Draco's eye.
"We'll if you're so sure then," he said sarcastically.
After a moment he yawned and looked at his watch.
"It's late; I'm going to bed."
He got up, but Ginny remained in her chair, feeling very drained. As she watched him go though, she sprang up with the last bit of energy she possessed.
"Oh, right!" she called. "Wait!"
Draco ignored her and kept walking.
"I said wait!" Ginny exclaimed, clutching the long sleeve of his robes.
"What?" he snapped.
"We need a better way to contact each other," Ginny told him. "It'll be difficult to ever get anything done if we constantly have to wait until late at night."
"And?"
"And I thought that we might still be able to use this room, the only obvious flaw being that during the day, a lot of people probably pass by here, and they'd see us. I wish we knew where the Gryffindor and Slytherin staff rooms were…"
"There are a few books mentioning theories on where they may be found. If you go to the library tomorrow, check them out. For now, we should try using the Room of Requirement."
Ginny nodded her agreement. "What time?"
Draco thought for a moment. "The end of lunch. Most people are usually in the Great Hall or in their common rooms."
"What about if I need to owl you?" Ginny added.
"You're a needy one, aren't you?" Draco remarked, smirking at Ginny. She noticed that her hand was still on his arm and snatched it back, fighting a blush.
"Just use a regular school owl. If you need to owl me more than once, use a different one each time."
Ginny nodded. "Fine."
"Good. Am I allowed to go to bed now – unless you'd like to keep me company?
Scowling, Ginny brushed past him. "Lay off the hallucinogen sugar quills, Malfoy."
"Whatever you say, Weasel."
"Class dismissed."
The clatter of books and murmurs swam past Ginny as she gathered her own things together and glanced tentatively at Professor Packard.
"Ready to go?" Colin asked. He gave a small smile to Mavis who accidentally knocked into him.
"In a second. I just wanted to ask a question. Go to Charms without me so you're not late."
Colin nodded and left the room.
"Uh, Professor?" Ginny said neutrally, trying not to sound as if she was up to no good.
'How would Malfoy do this?' she asked herself. Then she mentally snorted. 'I never thought the day would come that I would aspire to be like Draco Malfoy…'
Packard looked at Ginny evenly, before flipping through her lesson plan for the next class.
"Was there something you needed, Ms. Weasley?" she asked.
"Yes," she answered, stepping forward, but keeping a certain amount of distance between herself and the formidable woman. "Actually, there was. I wanted to check a book out of the library…but…it's restricted; so I'll need a teacher to sign it out for me.
"Oh?" Packard answered. "And you wanted to come to me?"
"Yes," Ginny answered. "Because it's in your field and all, I thought that you might not mind…"
'I wish that she'd stop shuffling through those damned papers…' Ginny thought irritably. She was nervous enough. In her paranoid mind, Packard knew that Ginny wanted to check the book out so that she could help Draco.
"I suppose I wouldn't," Packard agreed. "But this couldn't wait until some time before lunch? Or at least when we both do not have another class?"
"I know that it's inconvenient right now, but I wasn't sure of any other time I could reach you. My schedule is sort of busy, and I asked around and yours is as well –"
At this the mousy-looking woman glanced up. "You asked around?"
Ginny flushed nervously. Had she made a misstep?
"I didn't want to catch you at an inopportune time…" Ginny said a bit defensively. Packard said nothing. "But I suppose I have…I'll try later. I'm sorry to have taken up your time."
It actually would have been better for Ginny to have met with Packard in private. That way, not so many people would have noticed that she stayed behind to ask for something – especially Colin, who was to be perfectly honest, painfully nosy sometimes. But Ginny was glad for his concern and tried not to begrudge him for it.
"I didn't say no, Ms. Weasley." Professor Packard said seriously, making sure that Ginny looked her in the eyes.
Ginny noticed that she actually had very nice eyes, with the tiniest of crow's feet next to them. At one point in her life, she must have laughed a lot. All the same, she didn't seem to be a woman chock full of smiles. As patient as she was, Ginny never saw a smile grace her features once.
'I guess being an auror does that to you,' Ginny thought.
Feeling relieved, Ginny stopped walking away. In the distance, she heard voices approaching the room, but they were still far enough away.
Professor Packard nodded slightly at Ginny. "At least tell me what book it is, and I'll see what I can do for you."
"Oh, of course."
Taking off her bag and digging to the bottom of it where the slip that Draco had given her was written, Ginny saw Packard look at the clock and then return to the papers on her desk. She sat down in her chair and took out a Quick Quill.
"Here it is," Ginny said, handing the now violently wrinkled paper over. The professor briskly received it.
Her eyes scanned over it, and her brain processed the name of the book. Her head snapped up. Ginny stepped back.
"This is it?" She asked quietly, staring at Ginny with a penetrating look.
Ginny nodded.
"Disguises, Lies, and Curses…" she said, not looking away from Ginny for even a second.
The voices from the hall came even closer, soon the next class would be there, and Ginny did not want to be seen.
"This book…it's in the Restricted Section for a good reason. You understand that I am obligated to ask you what you intend to do with it?"
Ginny nodded again.
"So why do you want it?" The woman asked, her voice sounding very remote.
Ginny thought quickly. Placing a bit of a forlorn, lost look on her heart-shaped face she said quietly, "For this class – Defense. I was…I was told that this book was the best I could ever hope to find on curses and things, and how to detect them, but I can't get it out without permission…"
Packard still looked unconvinced.
"You see, my brother is best friends with Harry Potter," Ginny blurted out.
'Where did that come from….?'
"And…I suppose you've heard…of the trouble they get into at the end of every year?"
Packard nodded tightly. "Yes," she said frigidly. "I have."
Ginny felt like shivering, although she realized that the tone of the professor's voice was not directed at her, it was at Voldemort – the cause of Harry and Ron's troubles at the end of the year.
Ginny felt a little more courageous. "And I just feel like…if I knew more about those…types of things, I could help them defend themselves a little better."
The students' voices were just outside the room, now, and the door opened.
"I can't believe you just said that!"
With a feeling of dread, Ginny recognized the voice as Hermione's. The only person that could only infuriate the intelligent girl so much was, of course, Ron.
But Packard paid them no mind.
"I understand, Ms. Weasley."
Ginny's hope soared; Packard was going to sign the book off!
"But I cannot grant you permission just yet."
Ginny's face fell and she looked searchingly at Packard, but the woman was looking through her papers once more.
"My class has arrived."
"I'm sure it would only take a few seconds –"
"Maybe tomorrow, Ms. Weasley. I have a class now – I believe that you do also?"
Ginny stood still for a second, looking at the top of her teacher's head.
"Alright."
She picked her bag up amongst the scraping of chairs as the seventh-year Defense class seated themselves.
Turning around to leave, Ginny froze when she caught Draco's eye; he was walking inside, Crabbe and Goyle a few paces behind him. Draco also froze, his eyebrow rose when he saw Ginny at Packard's desk. Ginny vaguely noticed Ron, Harry, and Hermione giving her a quick look as they settled themselves. Neville waved hello to Ginny, sitting next to Hermione, but Ginny did not notice.
"Oh, Ms. Weasley?"
Ginny swung around halfway. "Yes, Professor?" she asked, feeling suddenly breathless.
"The person who recommended it, who was it?"
Ginny racked her brains. "It was my friend, Luna Lovegood. Her father owns a paper, and so he knows about all kinds of good books."
She could almost feel Draco's serpentine smile from where she stood, he was pleased with her answer – he certainly looked so, from what she could see in her peripheral vision. For some reason, Ginny felt pleased with herself, knowing that she had pulled it off.
"I know of Mr. Lovegood and The Quibbler," Packard said nodding. "So, Ms. Lovegood wrote this note?" She waved the wrinkled paper, and Ginny almost blanched. Draco's neat, graceful print was on it.
"Of course," Ginny said quickly, reaching for the paper.
Packard looked at her for a second, holding the paper just out of Ginny's reach. Then she gave it to her.
"I'll see you next class, Ms. Weasley," she said.
Ginny nodded, stuffed the parchment deep into her pocket and turned.
The walk down the aisle seemed very long as Ginny walked to where Draco still stood. When his lips were right above her ear, she could hear him say in a silky whisper,
"Nice job, Weasel. Nice job."
Ginny grinned, the tiniest hint of pink on her cheeks.
"Don't I know it," she whispered back.
They looked at each other.
"We will begin class now, if Mr. Malfoy's brain connects with his nerves and tells him to walk inside! Prepare yourselves for a long wait, class."
The humor that was in his eyes disappeared as if Snape had spat the Vanishing Charm. Openmouthed at Packard's open display of dislike for Draco, Ginny watched Draco stiffen and enter the room against the snickers of the Trio and the rest of Gryffindor.
"Close the door behind you, Ms. Weasley," Ginny heard Packard say.
She did.
It was the work of a good ten minutes to make sure that no one caught Ginny near the Room of Requirement.
If the rotten look on Draco's face was any indication of how his day had gone after his Defense class, Ginny knew that telling him that she hadn't gotten the book signed off wouldn't be greeted with a smile.
Walking past the nondescript door three times, thinking incongruously: "A safe place to meet with Malfoy…A safe place to meet with Malfoy…"
When she stopped pacing back and forth, Ginny noted that the door had become a dark mahogany with a dull copper knob. Turning it slowly, she entered and peered around, not wanting to get another nasty surprise. Fortunately, he was not in the mood for pranks and looked around when she came inside.
The dim light that was cast throughout the room made Ginny blink a few times until her eyes adjusted to the change, but when she was able to see she smiled wryly. It was almost like the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff staff rooms save for the fact that the wallpaper was equally adorned with little griffins and serpents. The darkness of the room made the forest green carpet appear almost black under her shoes, and small golden tassels around the edges of the carpet gave it a Gryffindor feel. The plush couches were also forest green, with golden trimmings. Ginny figured that Draco must have ordered the room to be as Slytherin accommodating as possible.
"What did the woman say?" Draco demanded, leaving no time for cordialities.
Ginny sighed and looked at the blond evenly. "She said that she wouldn't mind signing it off, if she could do it another time."
He was very still.
"What was wrong with today?" he snapped.
"How would I know? She made it sound like she had a lot of work to do and since your class barged in the room –"
"Actually it was your obnoxious brother and his ugly girlfriend –"
"- She changed her mind and told me to come back tomorrow." Ginny stood in front of Draco. "I want to know where exactly you heard of that book. If you'd only seen her face when she saw it…I thought for a second that she would haul me in to the Ministry herself. If you're trying to get me in trouble, Malfoy-"
"We are not having this conversation again, Weasley! Must I spell it out once more? Your head on a stick equals my head on a stick; and since you're connected with the Golden Boy, I'm the one with more to lose here. We need that book, and now."
Ginny reluctantly accepted his statement of innocence and tried to pacify him. "Tomorrow will come soon enough. Just be patient."
Pulling a shrunken Daily Prophet from his pocket and making it bigger (he really was taking caution seriously) Draco opened it to an article and shoved it at Ginny.
"Patience," he spat, "isn't buying us time."
Ginny growled and began to read the article.
Man Alone
The bodies have been dressed and laid in their caskets. The heavy wooden doors shut upon their cold, white faces; the soil poured on top of them; their gravestones proclaim: Emit Jones Harris, Dedicated Father; Maura Allison Harris, Loving Mother. Allison, William, and Jacob Harris: Angels Returned to Heaven: a dedicated father, a loving mother, and their three, angelic children, all slain in their cozy home in the outskirts of a homey Muggle neighborhood.
Indeed they are gone, but their funeral pyre burns on, trying to cast light on why this happened to them. Why did Alfred Tinelle murder this innocent family?
Some speculate that he snapped due to pressure that he had been experiencing at work.
"In the past months, maybe even up to a year I've been noticing a change in Al," notes Terrence Wiggleby, a co-wizard at Tinelle's office in the Ministry. "He'd come into work looking like the Homely Hex was just performed on him and then stay really late at the office. 'You're burning the candle at both ends', I'd tell him. 'Burning the candle at both ends'."
In contrast to this, Tinelle's wife claims that everything at home was secure, not in a state of matrimonial mayhem that might drive a rational man like Tinelle to do such a deed.
"Everything was fine with us," says Mary Tinelle, clutching her patterned apron with white fingers. "Sure, Alfred was…going through some stress – everyone goes through stress at work." Her doe-brown eyes appear to water and her voice trembles. "If I'd just been told…" She shakes her head. "If something were the matter with him, Al would have told me. We're in this together."
And indeed they must be, for the future looks rather dim for Wizard Tinelle. Or does it?
There have been hints that foul play is afoot behind all the gold and glass at the Ministry. Interestingly enough, Mr. Gold, Glass, and Galleons himself, Lucius Malfoy is at the forefront of these aforementioned hints.
Lucius Malfoy appears to be the stereotypical rich wizard. Dripping in the finest cut jewelry and layered in this season's finest made robes (most likely custom made); Mr. Malfoy seems to have landed himself in a custom-made-mess. A man well-known for his various dealings in the Ministry and education (such as his former post as a governor on the school-board at Hogwarts where his seventeen-year-old son Draco is educated), Lucius has been known to dabble in all kinds of business – inside the Ministry and out.
Is it possible that Mr. Malfoy, notorious for his iron will, business acumen, and good word has been dealing with business of the most nefarious kind?
The writing will be on the wall.
We at the Prophet tried to contact Mr. Malfoy, but unfortunately, he was unavailable for comment.
"Unavailable?" snorts Faison Vole, a close friend of Mr. Tinelle's. "Sure, busy counting his pretty galleons and digging more graves for the businesses and lives that he destroys."
Mr. Vole packs a suitcase frantically in his quaint, Diagon Alley flat.
"Going?" he questions back after my inquiry to what he is packing for. "Ah…you know, Miss…a bloke needs a vacation now-and-then. I've got to be on my way. Please." He wipes a bead of sweat from his brow, looks around fretfully and apparates away.
While we at the Prophet do not endorse such opinions about Mr. Malfoy or any persons so concerned in this terrible matter, we are forced to stand at attention and watch where the wind blows.
And it is an ill-wind that blows o'er Malfoy Manor come Saturday.
The Ministry is endorsing a full-scale raid on the stoic, beautiful mansion. (Early Victorian style, some say). And why will the halls of Malfoy manor be disturbed by the searching wandpoints of twenty aurors or so? Word around the wizarding grapevine calls The Division of Dangerous Artifacts a favorite sect of Mr. Malfoy's – the same division that Mr. Alfred Tinelle works for. He has often been said to communicate with Mr. Alfred Tinelle on more than one occasion – though the content of those discussions is, of course, most confidential.
Might something have disturbed Mr. Malfoy's equilibrium concerning Mr. Tinelle? Might Mr. Malfoy then have – by some off chance – placed a substantial Imperius on Mr. Tinelle – or blackmailed him? Guards at the wizard prison Azkaban have been keeping Mr. Malfoy's cell from two years ago warm, they say.
Whatever the outcome of this may be, all that any of us know is that a heinous wrong has been committed. Whether it be mere Muggles that have been hurt, or any of us magical kind, we are all at risk.
In the end, we of the wizarding world clutch our husbands and wives closer to us, give our children a little extra dessert at supper and wonder: "Are any of us safe?"
- Article by Rita Skeeter
"Wow…" Ginny breathed, feeling shaken. "She sure knows how to spin a tale."
"That is the biggest understatement of the bleeding year!" Draco fumed, his eyes burning bright.
Ginny didn't negate that. Instead, after a second of holding the trash in her hand, she tried to give it back to Draco.
He down heavily and waved his hand away.
"Throw it into the fire for all I care." A fire sparked up in the hearth and Ginny walked to it. Looking at the paper before it would go to its fiery grave she realized that it might come in handy at a later time.
"Actually, I think I'll keep it for now." She shrunk it and put it into her robes.
"Do you understand why we need to get that book now? Time is running out for my father. That…bint, Skeeter is making unnecessary trouble for him – for us."
"You have nothing to do with what your father did," Ginny stated. At Draco's glare she amended, "Or didn't do."
The blond gestured at Ginny's pocket where the Prophet lay. "She didn't state my name in there for my health. She's trying to spark up all kinds of…of foment for anyone who reads that trash. I won't be able to walk through the halls without people talking about me now."
Ginny smirked more than a little righteously. "I never knew that you were so self-conscious."
"Shove it, Weasley." Ginny couldn't help the grin that escaped. "I'm glad you think this is so sodding funny. I guess I'm always good for a laugh."
Underneath the anger that was obviously present, Ginny detected a bit of resentment that made the grave situation humorous.
"Aw, don't sulk. I'm sure that you'll be back in the sandbox playing Newspaper again soon."
Draco threw his head back and closed his eyes.
"Dare I ask what you mean by that?" He said in clipped tones.
Ginny walked around him.
"I'm sure that someone's feeling a little betrayed right now, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco went rigid. "Don't call me that right now. Or ever, for that matter."
Ginny stared at him. "You didn't have any problem with me calling you that before."
"That was before Rita fucking Skeeter made it sound like trash in the most read newspaper in the wizarding world. I am a Malfoy, Weasley – never forget that. But I'm not my father."
Ginny looked at him for a moment more and then shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance to ease the tension out of the room. The last thing she desired was another argument with any Malfoy.
"Alright…Draco," she said, trying out the name on her tongue.
From the corner of her eye she could see him wince and she scowled.
"It was your idea."
He frowned and looked at her quickly. "I know that. It's just going to take some getting used to."
"I'll say," Ginny muttered, running her hand through her hair.
"Anyway, what were you going on about?"
Ginny's catlike smile returned. "Do you think anyone has forgotten the close relationship you and Skeeter shared in your fourth year? What was your policy? 'Making the world hell for decent citizens, guaranteed.'"
Draco frowned angrily. "I should've known never to trust anyone who enjoyed making people suffer as much as I did."
Ginny burst into laughter.
"What the hell's the matter with you? I'm not joking," he stated firmly, startled and irritated by her amusement.
Ginny shook uncontrollably and tried to cover her mouth. But the more she looked at his serious face, the more laughter bubbled up.
"That…that's what's so funny…" she insisted.
"Sorry if I don't agree," Draco snapped. "She turned on me."
Ginny began to laugh even more.
"Oh…I apologize!" She sat on the floor next to his chair. "I had no idea that there was something going on between you two."
Draco's eyebrows rose and his mouth parted slightly in a supreme expression of incredulity.
"Mrs.….Mrs. Rita Skeeter-Malfoy!" Ginny exclaimed.
Draco went ashen. From anger or embarrassment, Ginny could not tell.
"Feel free to tell your mouth to shut up anytime now."
The situation was not funny in any way from Draco's viewpoint. Watching Ginny's futile attempts to sober up just to fall apart was grating on him. His very life was being pulled to shambles around him: his father was in a heap of trouble for something Draco wasn't even sure he didn't do; Rita Skeeter had just announced to the world that aurors were going to take a tour of his house; his Defense teacher hated his very guts and wanted to destroy him at all costs; and he was forced to cooperate with a Weasley. The unknown one, no less! And all that said Weasley could do was laugh about it and make jokes about him marrying the most intrusive, most indecent reporter on the planet. It wasn't funny. Even Ginny's last dig at him about 'Mrs. Rita Skeeter-Malfoy' wasn't funny…it really wasn't. Really.
By now Ginny was hiccupping on the carpeted floor like an intoxicated Winky.
"'Kay…Okay…" she said, chancing a look up at him.
When she discovered at length that the mere sight of him was not going to illicit any more laughter or jokes she began to breathe normally.
For all the arguing that they did, and all of the laughing she had just thrown in his face, Ginny noticed that Draco looked like any one of the people she knew caught in a misstep or dreadfully embarrassed. Before she could register what she was doing, she had put her hand on top of the one that was gripping the arm of couch.
"I'm sorry," she said to him in earnest. "If you didn't find it funny at all…" she began to laugh again and felt his hand stiffen. Coughing, she continued, "If it offended you, I'm sorry. It's just that you sounded so…so human for once, I don't know...And although I'm not very sure if it is human to have forged a relationship with Rita Skeeter, what she insinuated about your family – your father – was unnecessary."
Ginny in fact was not sorry at all for what Lucius Malfoy must have been going through at the moment. She hoped that he was pulling his long, blond hair out by the cartful. But putting Draco's name in the article just to give him trouble was admittedly wrong. And so was laughing at him, when he was clearly troubled with the fact that aurors were going to be going through the place that he lived (even if it was like a mausoleum) – and possibly his things. The redhead certainly would have hated to find out that anyone was going to be searching through her own home.
She didn't bother to add to her apology that the Ministry search might procure some interesting things and that few of them would probably be good. It was obvious enough.
Ginny concentrated on Draco's face and registered that he hadn't said anything.
"Mal- er…Draco…" She said, shaking her head. It would definitely take some getting used to. "I said that I'm sorry."
She looked at him and saw that he in turn was looked at her with a look of intense scrutiny. She chose to take it for ire.
"If my apology isn't good enough for you, then I can't do anything about –"
"I heard you," he interrupted.
Ginny blinked. "Oh. Okay, then."
Her hand was still on his and it was noticeably more relaxed than it had been before.
"I didn't expect you to apologize," he spoke.
Ginny shrugged, beginning to feel strange.
"I didn't expect you to take it to heart – my jokes, I mean."
Draco smirked.
"Your insults, you mean." A smile tugged at Ginny's own lips. "And yes you did expect me to."
"No, I didn't," she protested.
"Liar."
"Fine!"
"I win."
"Sure," Ginny quipped, rolling her eyes. "It's like you said, you're always right."
His eyes were bright, but not with anger this time, and there were light traces of blue, growing inside of them. Ginny could feel her face begin to heat up and she looked away – anywhere but at his eyes. Her eyes widened when she saw that somehow their palms were touching on the arm of the couch, and their fingers were laced together.
"You're a quick study."
Ginny glanced at the boy who was now leaning very close to her. He was too close to her…She didn't know what she would do if the distance became even smaller…
She licked her lips and spoke as loudly as she could, as if to distract him from their intimate scene.
"I've been told that I'm a diligent student."
The effect was entirely the opposite of what she hoped – or so she thought. It was difficult not to notice her pulse speeding up as his eyes seemed to bore into her, his fingertips around her hand, drawing her closer.
What in the world was happening to her sanity? Ginny questioned herself.
With a lightening fast but strong tug back, Ginny pulled herself out of Draco's grasp. But to her confusion – and deep down her secret delight – he didn't look away from her, though he did look confused at his actions. And her response.
"Right. I'm sorry again for what I said." She cleared her throat. When had her mouth become so dry? "I'll see what I can do concerning Packard. But don't do anything drastic without telling me first."
His eyes had seemed to clear up a little from their slightly cloudy state at the mention of his favorite teacher's name. He nodded at Ginny's orders.
"Alright, then," she said, unsure of what to do next. "So…I guess…we'll be in touch." Draco looked at Ginny long and hard and she gulped.
"Goodbye," she stated quickly, and turned tail.
The heavy door to the Room of Requirement shut.
From now on the author's notes are coming at the end unless there is something absolutely urgent that demands to be put up top. First and foremost, a gigantic, massive thank you must go to my beta: Tristan2 for all of her work with me. She is seriously my ray of sunlight and sunshine in this. Wow. Especially since this chapter had to be split into two, since it was originally twice as long. (I'll post the second half soon, if I get reviews for this one. Yes, I've resorted to blackmail).
Anyway, thank you so much, Tristan. I owe you so much.
Please review! You know you want to!
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