A/N: Wow, everyone. I'm incredibly sorry for such a long wait on this chapter. I'll try my absolute hardest to get chapter 6 out quicker. Thanks for waiting!

Special thanks to Elaine for beta'ing this chapter!

Disclaimer: JK Rowling's genius.

Chapter Five

The Date

It only took a few moments for Ginny to loosen up. Five minutes into the ride, she was over her brief irritation with him, flashing him smiles and making small talk.

"So what have you been up to these past few years, Draco?" she asked pleasantly, her smile looming large and forced.

Draco turned to look out the window so she wouldn't see his deep scowl. What an obnoxious question. When he composed himself, he met her eyes and managed to grin. "Just trying to keep myself occupied, Weasley," he answered as cryptically as he could.

Ginny nodded as if she understood. Then she glanced around the car, saying casually, "I'm surprised you live like this."

"Like what?" he demanded before thinking.

"A Muggle," she told him.

"Why not?" he asked, a bit sharply. The tone of his voice caught her off-guard, and he mentally reprimanded himself. He needed to control his responses a bit better than that. Living as a Muggle was a touchy subject for him; if he wasn't a wanted criminal, he could be doing all the magic he wanted.

I shouldn't worry about it, he thought, a bit annoyed with himself. With Ginny trailing him, he could do all the magic he wanted now. The Ministry already knew where he was, so it wasn't like they could find him if he started using magic once more. In fact, the minute he got rid of Ginny for the evening, he was going to get rid of Sebastian as well. He would start travelling the rightful way again.

However, Ginny did not need to know the whole magic bit. And he didn't need to get upset every time she mentioned something he wasn't too fond of.

Draco had more control than that.

"Well, I just didn't think you were the type to live as a Muggle," Ginny said easily. "At Hogwarts you weren't exactly a Muggle-lover."

The perfect reply popped in his head. He met her gaze squarely, made his face as somber as possible, and said quietly, "People change."

Her eyes widened slightly, but other than that he got no real reaction. He turned back to the window just in case his grin randomly popped up. He had surely confused her with that retort. She wouldn't know what to think.

Good. He needed her confused. She was already outwitting him, and he couldn't have that go on any longer.

Before Ginny had time to pose another question, Sebastian was turning into the parking lot of the Chinese restaurant. He pulled to a stop by the entrance, and Draco was out of the car without another word to Ginny.

He opened the door to the restaurant as Ginny joined him. She didn't know the name of the place, as it was in Spanish, but she could tell that it was someplace to sit down and order. She couldn't contain her surprise.

"I thought we were just getting a drink," she said as Draco stepped into the restaurant ahead of her. He could've sworn there was a touch of uneasiness in her tone.

"I'm hungry," he stated simply, fixing his attention on the hostess directly ahead.

After Draco informed the hostess, in Spanish, that he wanted a large booth that seated four (he wanted all the room possible; the tables for two seemed like its occupants sat too close), the pair of them were led towards the back of the dining area. The entire place was dimly lit – damn, Draco thought harshly, low lights are nauseatingly romantic.

Yet he made no complaint, graciously accepting the menu that was handed to him. He unfolded it and lifted it in front of his face, hoping to avoid conversation.

"How did you learn Spanish, Draco?" Ginny solicited amiably.

So much for no conversation. "Books," he countered shortly from behind his menu.

"Well, your accent is very good for someone who learned from a book," she said, and he heard a teasing note in her voice.

Curiosity got the best of him and he lowered his menu, greeted by her grin. This one, too, looked forced. She must've been as thrilled to be spending time with him as he was to spend time with her. "Wizarding books, Weasley," he informed her slowly, as though talking to a child; everyone knew wizarding books actually spoke the language out loud. "Not Muggles'." He quietly congratulated himself on how rude he sounded and lifted his menu up once more.

"Oh," was all Ginny said.

He escaped talking with her for a couple of minutes, pretending to take his time in selecting what he wanted. Meanwhile, his mind went through ways to verbally torture Weasley and keep her off his back for a few weeks. He needed to squash her enthusiastic outlook on her job. And tonight, being their first meeting, was the best time to crush her spirits.

Fortunately, he'd had a lot of practice tormenting people, back in his Hogwarts days. Unfortunately, he hadn't found anyone worth tormenting in so long that he hadn't done it in a while. He wasn't coming up with anything witty; just stupid things like "You're poor" or "I have more money than you."

The waiter came and took their drink orders. Since Ginny said she was ready to order dinner, Draco had to lower and hand over his shield (menu) as they ordered. Once the waiter had moved on, Draco was left with no choice but to meet Ginny's stare straightforwardly.

"How is this place?" Ginny put in before he could think of an insult. She glanced around the restaurant, as if summing it up. "It seems nice."

"I've never been here before," Draco said offhandedly.

Ginny nodded, pressing her lips together. She continued to look about the room, but now her eyes flitted almost anxiously. His short responses were beginning to make her uncomfortable.

Perfect. He wasn't there to help her relax.

"So, Draco," she tried again, fixing him with another posed smile, "What do you do for a living?"

The waiter placed a bowl of fried noodles on the table, followed by their drinks. When he left, Draco was smirking. "I don't work," he told her. "My father's in Azkaban, and my mother's remarried. The Malfoy fortune is mine. I don't have any reason to work."

She looked like she was smiling for a camera and she really didn't want the picture to be taken. "So you don't do anything, then?" she prompted, stirring her water with the straw. "You just sit around your home all day and stare at the walls?"

"Of course not," he said, feigning offence. "I don't stare at the walls. I contemplate how to spend my money."

He expected her face to stiffen under the pressure of keeping her smile intact. He was greatly disappointed. The opposite occurred; her expression actually softened, and for once her lips were curved into a genuine smile. Draco pointedly ignored sudden rush of heat rising inside him at the sight of her twinkling eyes.

Damn. That little comeback hadn't gone over too well. He'd hoped she would've taken offense to the fact he didn't have to work and could still spend money shamelessly. Who would've thought a Weasley would . . . well, have a lighter sense of humor?

It struck Draco right then that he hadn't ever dealt with Ginny Weasley before. Her brother, Ron . . . yes, he'd been easy to deal with. Even some of the older Weasley boys had been simple. But he'd never really had to handle the girl Weasley.

That realization was making him uneasy. And he didn't like the feeling.

Then he frowned, once more cross with himself. He could contend with Ginny Weasley. Wasn't she supposedly the daftest hit-witch in the Ministry? He could best her. Effortlessly.

He wondered why that knowledge wasn't as soothing as it should've been.

"You must have a hobby of some sort," Ginny pressed on, jerking his attention back. "Do you like to go out with mates or anything?"

"I suppose I do," said Draco vaguely, taking a sip of his Coca-Cola.

"You suppose?" Ginny gave him look that was doubtful and coy and almost believable. "What does that mean?"

"Why so interested, Weasley?" he said instead of answering.

"I'm just making conversation," she replied, a tinge of impatience to her tone. "We haven't seen each other in five years. And so far, from what I see, you've completely changed." Her fake smile flashed again. "I'm just trying to get to know the new Malfoy."

Draco tried not to be annoyed. There was no new Malfoy. There was nothing to get to know. "You go first," he said, forcing himself to sound civil.

"Excuse me?" Ginny gave him a blank look.

"You tell me about you," he said, fixing an arrogant grin on his face, "and I'll tell you about me." If he kept her talking long enough, the evening would end before they got to the topic of him.

She gave him a side glance, suspicious. "I asked you first," she said slowly.

"I asked you first," he insisted. "You just asked me what my hobbies were."

She narrowed her eyes, irritation provoked, and replied fierily, "Same thing!"

"It's quite different," Draco assured her, meeting her fire with ice. When she continued to glare at him, he said firmly, "Go on. I'm eager to hear about what you've been doing for the past few years."

She heard his sarcasm. She had to have. But she gave in with a heavy, frustrated sigh, making it loud enough so Draco was sure to know she was aggravated with him. "I've been working," she ground out.

"What line of work are you in?"

He saw something flash in her eyes; he knew instantly that she hadn't thought of a profession to lie with. It thrilled him. The fact that she could look over something so trivial, that she hadn't been prepared with an alternate job, restored his confidence in her ineptitude. He had to try hard to keep his mouth from tugging into a satisfied smile.

However, she didn't hesitate for very long. Just a beat passed, and her uncertainty vanished. "I'm a writer," she said easily, even if it was a bit breathlessly. She looked down and bit into a fried noodle, trying to keep her eyes hidden under her lashes.

Evidently, writer was the first response she could think of. Draco decided to make it a little tougher. "What do you write?"

She skipped another beat, crunched on another noodle, and let out the first thing that jumped into her mind. "Biographies."

Draco couldn't help it. He laughed. A loud sound that had seemed foreign to his own ears; a sound that had Ginny's head snapping up in surprise. It took a moment, but he managed to compose himself until he was grinning mockingly at her. "Is there . . . a lot of money in writing biographies?"

She flushed darkly. "More than you'd think," she told him lightly, lifting her chin almost haughtily.

"I'm sure it's a rich subject with many fascinating aspects," Draco said derisively. "Written about anyone good lately?"

She shrugged, lowering her gaze once more to the noodles. "Not anyone you'd know," she replied.

"Try me."

Embarrassment turning into exasperation, she raised her head. "I can't tell you," she said, her voice wavering ever so slightly.

"Why not?" Draco struggled to keep from laughing again. This really was highly entertaining. Putting Weasley in such a spot was giving him more delight than he'd originally thought.

"Because," she answered lamely. She opened her mouth to say more, sighed in frustration, and looked around the dining room. As if seeking help. Finally, she turned back to him, her expression much stronger and surer than it had been moments before. "Because it's in the process of being published, and I don't want to give away the subject before it gets into shops."

Bollocks. Draco leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. Even though her delivery on the lie hadn't been so great, there was no way he could contradict her. He couldn't tell her she was lying because he had no way to prove it. "Oh," he said at last.

"See, that's why I'm here," Ginny said, now more confident with her story. She took a long sip of her water. "It's a sort of celebratory holiday. Congratulating myself for getting something published. Or nearly, anyway."

"Hmm," Draco replied distractedly. The discussion had lost its appeal in two seconds flat. Now it was his turn to survey the room, hoping that a new topic of torture would soon come to him so this date would pass by quicker.

For the next couple of minutes, there was silence. Ginny didn't attempt to speak, either; she was probably still trying to recover from her stupendously stupid tale.

Then the food came. Draco had ordered a feast; a platter of sweet and sour chicken, two egg rolls, steamed rice, and hot and sour soup – all because he liked to have more than one choice of food. Ginny had merely asked for some wonton soup. He pretended not to see her longing look at his meal as it was placed in front of him; pretended not to notice how she was obviously trying to hint that she was hungrier than she'd thought, and that she wanted some of his food.

But a few moments into the meal, she decided to take charge herself. Her fork came out of nowhere and speared one of his chicken pieces. Draco looked up at her, glaring, but she merely smiled back, chewing with her mouth open and making loud smacking noises.

That smile bothered him for two reasons. One – it was obnoxious. Two – it was real. She'd only given him two authentic smiles the entire night and already he was hoping she wouldn't give him any more. The strange attraction he'd felt at the beginning of the evening was only growing stronger by her smile, and he could not risk lusting for Ginny Weasley. It presented too many problems and was better off being avoided entirely.

Ginny took his silence for acceptance, and continued to eat his food. For some reason, he didn't stop her. Maybe it was because he knew he couldn't eat all of it himself. Whatever the explanation was, it didn't stop the two of them from eating off the same plate in quiet for the next five minutes.

Draco finished first. He shoved the plate to her side of the table, leaned back, and watched her eat. She ate messily; she was totally unsophisticated. He would expect no less from a Weasley.

He was furious with himself for being charmed by it.

Finally, Ginny dropped her fork with a clatter and groaned. "Oh, I'm full," she declared, smiling contentedly to herself.

Draco said nothing. Instead, he tried to look bored, pretending to be occupied with the happenings around the room. He could sense Ginny's uneasiness return; could just about feel her stiffen.

"It's your turn, Draco," she informed him. "I told you what I do, now you tell me what you do."

"I don't work," he said cleanly, not realizing he was repeating what he'd already told her.

"No shit," she fired petulantly. Amused by her flare of anger, he turned his attention back to her. "We made a deal, Draco. You have to tell me what your hobbies are."

"I'm not finished learning about you," he replied efficiently.

"Too bad, it's my turn to ask about y ­-" she started.

"Have your fifty-three brothers made something of themselves?" he interrupted.

He had to fight back another spurt of laughter at her expression. She reddened once again and narrowed her eyes irately. "I only have six," she managed to say with a surprisingly frigid and collected tone. "And they've all made something of themselves. They're all successful, they're all married, and they all have children."

"Looks like you're the only . . . failed Weasley," he said delicately.

She flushed even darker. It was priceless. If she demands to see me again any time soon, it'll be a mild miracle, Draco thought triumphantly.

"I'm also the youngest," she reminded him with forced placidness, preoccupying herself by scraping her fork across the empty plate. Draco tried not to wince at the maddening screeching noise it made. "My career is going steady now, and I don't see any rush to marry someone. So really, I haven't failed at all. I'm right where I want to be."

"Cheers for you," he said, lifting his glass up before taking a sip from it. He then turned his attention to a waiter who was serving a nearby table. He couldn't have her think he was that interested in what she had to say.

Because he honestly wasn't.

Their waiter brought the bill and took away their dishes. Draco strongly considered being a bastard and demanding that Ginny pay half the check because she ate some of his food. But he didn't think it was honorable to the Malfoy name; Malfoys never asked for money. It wasn't ethical.

Once Draco had placed the correct amount of money in the bill flap and set it on the side of the table to be picked up, Ginny resumed the conversation. "All right," she said, placing her elbows on the table and leaning forward. "The date's almost over. It's your turn to tell me what you like to do."

Draco stalled. He pretended to mull it over – as if thinking of what he liked to do was a tough subject – and while he did so, the waiter collected their check.

"It's not that difficult," Ginny said sharply. "Do you like to read, practice magic, collect Chocolate Frog Cards –"

"Ah, but I'm Muggle, remember?" Draco cut in, smiling leisurely. "I don't practice magic and I don't eat Chocolate Frogs."

"Okay, now that I know what you don't do," she snapped, "why don't you inform me what you do enjoy doing?"

Draco gave a short laugh. "Women," he said plainly.

Ginny stared at him a moment, then rolled her eyes in exasperation. "That much is obvious," she muttered.

Hmm. Was it? How would she know? She must've seen me already with many escorts, he thought, and felt a thrill of having a way to corner her in her game. "How is that obvious?" Draco asked, slowly and quietly. And with just a hint of threat.

He'd caught her. Ginny's eyes flew to his, seemingly surprised that she'd let something that hinted she knew about him slip. But she was quick about it. In the blink of an eye she'd smoothed her expression into that of indifference. She shrugged. "You just strike me as the type who doesn't like to commit. Who likes to spend a different night with a different woman."

Draco's excitement faded. That cover-up wasn't very plausible, but yet again, he couldn't challenge her. Unable to stop his frown, he looked away and decided it was time to go.

He stood up without another word, catching Ginny off-guard. Much like he had entered the restaurant, Draco exited it, making sure that he was five steps ahead of her and giving off negative vibes.

Outside on the curb, Draco scanned the parking lot for Sebastian. His chauffeur caught sight of him and was backing out of the parking space when Ginny stepped up beside Draco.

She nudged him, and before he could catch himself he glanced around at her. She wasn't looking at him, but she was holding her hand out. "Here," she said, "the hostess gave them to me."

It was a fortune cookie. Draco smirked, took it, and shoved it into his coat pocket.

"Not too keen on your fortune, Draco?" she asked impishly. He heard the plastic wrapper crinkle as she opened her cookie.

"I have my fortune, Weasley," he told her as Sebastian pulled to a stop in front of them. "And it's not in any cookie."

Before he could pull open the back door and get in, Ginny just about plowed him over to reach the handle first. She yanked the door open and all but dove into the car, gracelessly and clumsily sliding onto the seat in her long dress.

Draco stood for a moment, unaware that his jaw had dropped slightly, completely stunned that she had done such a thing. Noticing his hesitation, Ginny peeked her head out of the car and grinned up at him. "Must hurt the ego being beaten by a lady," she said obnoxiously.

"If you call that being beaten," he said, recovering from his initial surprise and leaning down so he was eye level with her. "And if you call yourself a lady."

He slammed the door on her shocked face and, with a pleased smile, sat up front with Sebastian.

* * *

Git, Ginny fumed, curling her fingers tightly around her purse. Ignoramus. Bastard. I can't wait until he's in bloody Azkaban.

She wasn't sure what it was about Malfoy that brassed her off so badly, either. She'd taken worse verbal beatings from her brothers. Far worse. But there was just something about Draco that managed to make her annoyed every two seconds, something that made her want to reach across the table (or whatever barrier happened to be between them) and smack his smug face.

She then thought that maybe the reason why Malfoy somehow managed to bother her – far more than anyone else ever had – was the simple fact that she was strongly attracted to him.

The man simply oozed sex appeal. So it wasn't like she could help that she had, during the course of their meal, found herself staring at his lips and wondering what kind of kisser he was. She also couldn't help that her attention had, on occasion, been drawn to his hands, those perfectly manicured hands, and she had wondered what it would be like if he touched her. If those hands had run through her hair, around her neck, down her back . . .

Ginny felt herself blushing and reminded herself that the object of her fantasy was still in the car with her, and that she would have to kill him before she let him touch her neck. Being attracted to the man she was supposed to bring down couldn't be healthy, but it was safer than actually acting upon the attraction. She could allow herself the occasional erotic image, yes, but as long as it remained fictional. And as long as it didn't interfere with her job.

However, it already was interfering. Finding Malfoy irresistible was frustrating her, and therefore Malfoy himself was frustrating her. Perhaps the combination of Malfoy trying to get on her nerves and succeeding, but not trying to turn her on and yet succeeding in that aspect as well . . . perhaps that was what was driving her mad . . .

Oh, who the hell was she kidding. She was thinking too much about nothing. It wasn't her attraction to him. Draco Malfoy simply didn't mesh well with her. Their personalities just clashed.

Get over it, she ordered herself. This is your job. This time three months from now Malfoy will be out of your life, and you'll have a career.

She could handle the personality disagreement. And she would attempt to handle the fact that Malfoy's physical makeup attracted her. While she did so she would plan how to fool Draco, and in a matter of weeks she would be settling into her new Hit Witch job while Draco sat in Azkaban.

Ginny began smiling to herself before she realized they were nearly to her inn's street, and she had yet to invite Draco out again. Sitting up straighter, she leaned forward so she was poking between the driver and passenger's seat in the front.

"Hello, Draco," she said to get his attention. Startled, he turned his head away from the window and met her gaze. "I had a good time tonight. Shall we do this again?"

Draco blinked, almost blankly, before saying, "I'm busy tomorrow."

"Oh, good, me too," Ginny said dismissively, lying through her teeth. "I was thinking we could do something during the day. We could go to lunch in the afternoon. And you could show me around Madrid. I've been dying to see some of the Muggle sites . . ."

"When I say I'm busy," Draco said calmly, "don't you think that applies to the daytime as well?"

Ginny's stomach sank; he was saying no. But she wouldn't give up so easily. Putting on her doubtful act, she rolled her eyes. "You're the one who says your only hobbies are women. I believe a gentleman of your class would only accompany women in the evening. That would leave your days free."

Sebastian pulled onto the road Ginny's inn resided on. He was a Muggle, so he couldn't see her inn; she told him to stop by that little café up the street and she'd walk the rest of the way.

Draco stared at her for a moment longer, and it seemed he was genuinely debating whether or not to say yes. Sebastian braked where Ginny had informed him to. Once he did, he picked up a magazine so he wouldn't seem like he was paying them any mind.

"Oh, come on, Draco," she said, falsely playful. "What else have you got to do besides sit around and count your money?"

He let out a loud sigh and frowned deeply. Just when she expected another rejection, he completely surprised her with a resigned, "All right, Weasley, you win."

Ginny kept her gloating in check. "Wonderful," she said, returning to the back seat. "I will see you tomorrow at two then, right here at this spot."

She got out of the car, grinning broadly. She'd completely accomplished it! Not only had she had a fairly successful first date, but she had booked another one. And Draco didn't suspect a thing. He probably thought she was just an eager little girl trying to snag his attention.

Well, let him think that. It would be his ticket to Azkaban.

Ginny hummed the rest of the way to the Amistoso Inn.

* * *

Before Draco entered his flat, he told Sebastian firmly that he would no longer be employing him. Promising that a final paycheck would arrive for Sebastian by Muggle post, Draco slammed the car door and hurried up to his home.

He felt curiously elated, having gotten rid of a Muggle service. It was time to set his life back in order, the wizarding way.

Entering his flat, he was greeted by the sight of Blaise and Pansy, as usual lounging on his sofa. They glared at him viciously as he walked into the room.

Draco glared back. "Before you start to yell at me for leaving the party, I would just like to inform you that -"

"Oh, Draco, shut up," Pansy snarled, her countenance rivalling that of a livid tiger. Draco briefly wondered how anyone could've thought the woman resembled a canine.

"It's not all about you, you great prick," Blaise added, equally moody. "We're not furious that you left us - even though we should be; I could beat you unconscious for leaving me like that -"

Pansy, who was lying on her side on the sofa propped up by one elbow, kicked him rather hard in the stomach with her heel to silence him. Ignoring his loud curse, she turned her head back to Draco. "Tannar isn't the man we need," she said with an abruptly calm voice, though her expression was still that of utter venom.

"So that's all that's got you in a foul mood?" Draco asked, sinking into his favorite large chair. "We're back to where we were before. It's not that much of a setback."

Blaise snorted cynically. "Oh, we're set way back, mate. Way back."

Draco stared at the two, waiting for more. Pansy fumed silently, narrowed eyes on the carpet, while Blaise gnawed on his thumbnail, a habit that infuriated Draco beyond all comprehension. Gritting his teeth, he said slowly, "Well? Are you going to explain or am I going to have to guess randomly?"

Pansy sighed heatedly and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the sofa. Her hair was beginning to tumble out of its fastenings, but it only looked stylishly ruffled. "We needed Tannar because we wanted to know the exact layout of the prison," she began with a collected tone that clearly tried to smother rage. "He's the only man alive who knows the layout from memory, and has to have the blueprints in his home. Am I right?"

Draco nodded once, ready for her to get to her point.

"Wrong," she hissed vehemently, her normally blue eyes clouded over and dark. "I'm wrong. The man could give a shit less about the layout of Azkaban."

Draco stared, trying to figure out where she was going with this. "So . . . he doesn't have any blueprints."

"None whatsoever," Blaise put in dully.

"So? We just do some research, figure out where the blueprints are, and steal them," Draco said simply, but he had a feeling that it wasn't that easy. Pansy and Blaise were effortlessly angered, but they rarely got as deadly as they were now. They were beyond sheer anger.

"Oh, we know where the blueprints are," Pansy said disdainfully. "I managed to get that much out of Tannar before he started whining about how his wife would disapprove of his contact with me and asked me to leave. . . ."

"Where are the blueprints?" Draco interrupted impatiently.

Blaise scowled, while Pansy smiled coldly. "Athens," she stated primly, crossing her legs and placing her hands in her lap.

". . . Greece?" Draco incited.

"You imbecile, Draco. Yes, Greece," Blaise snapped.

Draco let out a breath, leaning back in his chair. Athens, Greece, was quite a trip from Madrid. "Why would blueprints for an English prison be in Greece?" he said.

"Turns out the bastard Tannar's been paranoid about the security of Azkaban since that whole Voldemort business," Blaise said. "Got more brains than we gave him credit for. He's not taking any more chances; he paid a relative to keep the blueprints in his villa in Greece. Far, far from England . . . and outrageously safe. It was as if Tannar was expecting someone would try and get the prints and use them for a break out," he finished with a dark sneer.

"And the blueprints are not easy to get to, either," said Pansy. "'Protection around the blueprints is rather sound, so don't you worry about a thing; no Dark Wizards will be on the loose to harm you'," she mimicked dourly. "His exact words. Fucking jerk."

Draco inhaled deeply, trying to think this through. His body was starting to shut down; he desperately wanted to go to sleep. "Let's think for a minute," he said, releasing the air loudly. "Do we absolutely need these blueprints?"

Pansy and Blaise both nodded immediately. "Without them we won't have a clue where Pansy will end up," Blaise told Draco. "She could be placed somewhere on the top level of the prison, in the middle . . . We need her in the basement. We need to know where to have her sent -"

"Okay, okay," Draco cut in. "I understand. We need the bloody prints. We'll just have to go to Athens and get them."

"Yeah, but this fucks everything up," Blaise swore. "We'll have to plan. It won't require as much work as the whole Azkaban plan has, but it will take some thinking. It could take a week, two weeks, a month. . . ."

"And we don't have a month to waste," Pansy declared. "We need this done as soon as possible. I say we all head for the Ministry's tomorrow, find out all the information we need about what's guarding the blueprints. We can leave for Greece in a couple of days, perhaps even tomorrow if we're quick enough."

"I can't," Draco said automatically.

"Can't what? Research with us or go to Greece?" Pansy demanded distrustfully.

Draco scowled. He had to meet Weasley for lunch tomorrow. Not that it was really something worth cancelling a vital Plan researching trip for, but it was quite necessary.

Weasley'd been too adamant about seeing him again. In fact, she'd been far too . . . pleasant the whole time. He hadn't insulted her enough. The only reason he'd agreed on seeing her so soon was because he needed to be firmer. More bastardly. Make her back off slightly. She needed to be put in her place . . . a place far from him.

"I have to deal with Weasley tomorrow," he said finally. "We can leave tomorrow night. That'll give you a little more time for research. As for tonight, I'm going to sleep." He was fighting to keep his eyes open; he wouldn't be much use to anyone tonight, he could feel it.

Pansy's eyebrows were raised. "Weasley?" she repeated. "Draco, she's here because she's not supposed to get in our way. She won't stop us from doing this. We'll leave in the morning," she concluded firmly.

"Look, Pansy, I just need to see her one more time," he said. "I need crush her a bit more. I think I was too nice to her tonight. If I don't do anything, then she'll be looking for me and she might follow us to Greece."

"You give her too much credit, Draco," said Pansy icily. "She'll have no way of knowing you went to Greece."

"Better safe," he replied simply.

Blaise yawned and spoke at the same time. "Come on, Pans, if he wants to spend a lovely day with Weasley, then let him. If we leave tomorrow night, we won't be setback that much. It'll let us get a decent night's sleep tonight, and we can research tomorrow while Draco cavorts around with his little weasel."

Pansy glowered, but reluctantly agreed. "Fine. We leave tomorrow night, no later than seven o'clock. You two can have your precious sleep tonight."

Without another word, she Disapparated with a loud pop. Draco jumped slightly, surprised that she'd left so suddenly.

Blaise turned and grinned lazily at Draco. "So how was your date, Malfoy?" he asked slickly.

Draco glared at him, stood up, and strode into his bedroom. "I'm going to sleep," he said grumpily.

* * *

A/N: Not only did this chapter take forever to come out, but I didn't have time to do thank yous. Next chapter I will, I promise. Thank you so much for reviewing anyway.

 Sorry for being so slack, but school is retarded. What can I say.

Hopefully the next chapter will come out much sooner than this one did!