A/N: Yay for chapter 14! I hope you all can forgive me for my lack of updation . . . or updating, I suppose the saying would go. Updation's kind of a fun word. Anyway, read my profile if you want a little more information on how this story will go. Bottom line: I'm still writing it! Don't abandon me.

Thanks to Jho, who hasn't failed me yet :)

Chapter Fourteen

The Plot Thickens

Monday, 17 March, 2003

Draco didn't get a chance to talk to Pansy until the next day. On Sunday, when he'd come back from the "bank", Ginny had insisted they spend all day snuggling on the couch, watching television. There was no proper way to escape her, so he had just waited until she went back to her inn Monday morning.

Ginny hadn't been gone five minutes when he Apparated to Pansy's street. He hurried into her flat without knocking, and to his good luck – which he seemed to be running low on lately – both Pansy and Blaise were there. He'd been anxious to talk to the both of them alone for a few days now. Since the arrival of his mother and Bellatrix, he hadn't had a chance to converse with them privately and he needed to get a few things straight.

Pansy was in the bathroom, touching up on her makeup, and Blaise was, per usual, in the kitchen making himself lunch. They both heard Draco Apparate in, but did not bother to greet him.

Well, if they weren't coming to him, then he'd go to them. He headed to the lavatory and stood in the doorway, watching Pansy apply mascara to her lashes. He thought for a second, of how to begin everything that he needed to say, of what needed to be brought up first, but she beat him to it.

"If you have something to say, then just say it, Draco," she purred.

"I have a lot to say," he replied gruffly. "Come out here." He left her and went into the kitchen, where Blaise was finishing the production of his sandwich. "Zabini, we need to talk," he ordered.

"Let me eat first –" Blaise began.

"No. Come into the living room," he snapped, and turned back to find Pansy already seated on the couch. Blaise came in soon after, a sulky look on his face. "Sit down," he told him, pointing to the spot beside Pansy, and was glad when Blaise obeyed the request. He stood directly in front of them so that he could keep them both in sight at once.

"What is this, Draco?" Blaise asked with raised eyebrows. "I get the feeling you're angry with us." He glanced at Pansy, who met his gaze, and the two of them attempted to hide smiles.

Draco hadn't arrived angry, hadn't intended to be cross with them, but their attitudes were bothering him. The look they shared was the icing on the cake. He had come to discuss things calmly; now he was riled up and would surely lose his temper.

"First," he began in a controlled tone, in an attempt to settle himself, "let's get one thing straight. Am I apart of this Plan, or am I not?"

Pansy had her arms crossed. "Well, Draco, that's up to you," she said, looking up at him with wide eyes. "We thought you were. But it seems like you're getting too caught up in your Weasley to really give us your attention anymore."

Draco clenched his teeth. "I've already told you," he gritted out, "that I'm keeping Weasley from finding out about us all. When she's with me, she can't be figuring out anything about The Plan. When I'm away from her, she could be anywhere, possibly reporting to the Ministry officials about you two."

Why couldn't they see he was trying to help them? He wasn't keeping Weasley for his own purposes – though it was an added bonus that she was a good lover and he had fun with her – but he was doing it for their sake.

"Then you've answered your own question," Blaise pointed out smoothly. "Yes, you are still apart of The Plan."

"Then I deserve to know what's going on," said Draco resolutely. "My mother told me it was Bellatrix who got them both involved in this. How did you come in contact with her?"

"She found us," Pansy replied.

"How?"

Pansy glanced at Blaise, then shrugged. "We haven't been able to figure that out. One day last week she appeared out of nowhere, claiming she wanted to help us. How could we refuse? We need power like hers, and we needed more help."

Pansy was lying. Draco wasn't sure how he knew that, but it was a nagging feeling in the pit of stomach, and he didn't like it. "Aren't you at least a little suspicious as to how she was able to discover The Plan when none of us, the only ones in the world who know, told her about it?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"Of course we are," Blaise said loudly. "But what can we do?"

Draco felt like his blood was boiling with frustration. Was he the only one who was finding fault with all this? They were both taking it so acceptingly – so ignorantly – like it wasn't a major issue. But it was. Bellatrix had somehow found out about them, about The Plan, and no one knew why. Certainly no one could possible trust her. She was taking over, taking Pansy's position as leader, and the two of them weren't concerned at all.

Did they truly think Bellatrix had their best interests in mind?

"You two have lost your bloody heads," Draco muttered. "Completely lost it!" he suddenly shouted, causing Pansy to jolt. "I can't believe how daft you're being. There is something very wrong here, and you're completely ignoring it!"

"Draco, there's no reason to yell," Pansy said, attempting to mollify him. "There's nothing wrong here. Bellatrix is a very powerful woman. There are a number of ways she could have discovered our Plan."

"Like what?" he snarled.

"Well, it's not exactly a heavily guarded secret that you're supposed to be dead, or that you've been discovered alive," Blaise explained in a reasonable tone. "She could've come across some information in the Ministry about you and come to investigate it. Quite simply, much like your Weasley has done, she could've overheard our plans, contacted Naricissa, and made us aware of her presence and desire to help."

"It's not a big surprise that she wants to help us, Draco," Pansy said with a laugh, as if mocking his stupidity. "Once all the prisoners are free, she'll be the next Voldemort. She'll have all the power and prestige that the title brings along."

Draco wanted to shake his head, wanted to tell them he didn't believe that explanation. It seemed reasonable, he supposed, but he didn't think that was right. But they were just speculating, not pretending to know the truth, and they did have a point – Bellatrix was powerful, and could've discovered their Plans with little difficulty.

But even so, it still boggled his mind. Why had she decided to spy on three ex-Slytherins, as though she knew something was going on that she would be interested in?

"What else would you like to know, Draco?" Pansy asked, almost prissily, staring expectantly at him.

He reluctantly tore his mind from one nagging problem to another. There was something else he'd wanted to know, something that he'd been wondering about for the past few days after Pansy had changed the subject. Forcing himself to sound civil, he asked shortly, "In Greece – why didn't you follow me out of the cellar?"

Pansy's eyes darkened. "I thought I told you already," she said with a hint of exasperation. "We needed to make sure the guards didn't come in and –"

"Yes, you told me that already, and I'm not believing it," he said bluntly, tired of her dancing around the point. "When I left the cellar, you two were right behind me; you'd already done all you could to hold off the guards from entering. And even if you weren't done, there would have been a point when you needed to escape the cellar, and it couldn't have been too long after I left. Furthermore," he continued, feeling like a lecturer trying to teach an audience his point, "if you were really as concerned about erasing the guards' memories as you seemed to be, considering you were shouting death threats at me if I failed to do so, then you both would have joined me in the stairway. You would have helped me erase those memories; you would have wanted to regroup, because that is what a team does."

They both stared at him, Blaise with a pensive look and Pansy with a dark one.

"If you truly wanted to be apart of this team, Draco," she said icily, "you would've sent Weasley back to England the minute I suggested –"

"Will you stop it with this Weasley business," Draco exploded angrily. "This isn't about Weasley; this isn't about my aunt, or my mother – this is about you, Pansy. About you and, considering he does every little thing you say, about Blaise too. So don't change the subject. Answer my damn question."

Blaise stood up threateningly, offended. "Draco, I think you might want to reconsider what you're saying," he said firmly. "You're accusing the both of us of betraying you, when we're the only two in the world you have stood by you. If we had it against you, Draco, why do you think we approached you in the first place? If we had wanted to abandon you in Greece, why do you think we even asked you for your help? And furthermore," he spat mockingly, working himself up, "if we were plotting against you, why wouldn't we have turned you over to the Ministry by now? To be honest, at this point we don't even need you. With all the new help we have, you're disposable. . . ."

"Blaise," Pansy cut in smoothly. "Please take a seat."

Both men ignored her. "I'll tell you why you approached me," Draco said, matching Blaise's vehemence. "Because you needed my help. And why you abandoned me in Greece? I can't tell you; that's what I'm trying to figure out. Maybe you felt then that you didn't need my help anymore, so you left me to sink or swim, but let me tell you something. I may not be any help with The Plan, but right now I'm the only thing keeping you two from Ministry scrutiny. Weasley knows about you both. Once I'm taken care of, she's going to focus her attention on you both – because put simply, it's a crime to be fraternizing with the enemy."

"We can take care of Weasley," replied Blaise coldly. "We can take care of everything; you, on the other hand, are just –"

Draco was eager to hear what he had to say, despite the fury and loathing he suddenly felt for his former companion. However, Pansy was quick to interject.

"Will you shut up? Both of you!" she cried, jumping to her feet. She placed her tiny frame between the two of them, both glaring at each other over the top of her head. "Fighting is going to get us nowhere. We started this together, just the three of us, and it's not going to end without us. All of us. So just shut up."

"Fine," Draco said, never removing his narrowed eyes from Blaise's burning ones. "I have nothing more to say."

"Yeah," Blaise sneered. "Me neither."

Saturday, 22 March, 2003

"I can't believe it," said Maili, hitching Kevin higher up on her hip. "Honestly, Ginny, I can't believe you did it."

Ginny grinned, clasping her trunk closed. Straightening, she ran her eyes over her room one last time, making sure she'd left nothing lying out. "I'm having trouble believing it, myself," she admitted. "But it's happened."

She was moving in with Draco. After a week of spending every night at his flat, and spending most days with him, he had finally mentioned nonchalantly that she should bring her stuff over.

This was a good thing. Draco obviously wanted her around all the time, and that meant he was a step closer to becoming hopelessly attached to her. A few more weeks of this and bam – she would be Hit Witch and relaxing back in England without a single worry.

Oh, it sounded like heaven.

Ginny couldn't recall ever having had such a complicated situation in her life. Her feelings about Draco were mixed. At times she found herself laughing at everything he said, hopelessly enraptured by his sarcastic wit and – who could deny it – his stunning beauty. Then there were times she felt extremely upset with him, most simply because of the times she liked him. How dare he make her enjoy his company? How did he have the right to amaze and delight her? It wore her out trying to reason through her emotions, trying to figure out what the hell she was doing and if she was doing it right.

To make matters worse, Draco would sometimes disappear for a little while at a time. He was never gone for more than an hour or two, but when she inquired where he'd been, he always had some answer she didn't believe. He would vaguely mention some shop that she'd never heard of or accuse her (albeit jokingly) of being too prying, and who did she think she was, his mother?

And to top it all off, she still hadn't managed to give him a Truth Potion. She couldn't discover what he was hiding.

However, she was sure she would find out soon enough. It was on the top of her To Do List. She still had time.

"So do you think he loves you yet?" Maili asked, tactless as ever.

Ginny smiled. "No, certainly not yet. Love between two normal people takes a while – love between a normal person and Draco probably takes twice as long. I'm hoping it'll only be a month or so before we can go back to England, but I'm prepared to wait even longer, it that's what it takes."

But I really don't want to, she thought desperately.

Maili clicked her tongue. "Jesus, Ginny, you've got endurance," she said admirably. "I don't know how you can do it. Are you sure you won't fall in love with him?"

She laughed, thoroughly entertained. "Fall in love with Malfoy?" she repeated disbelievingly, heading over to the bathroom to do a final check. "I would sooner fall in love with Penelope. Honestly, not only is the man evil and sadistic, he's . . . well, that's all he is, and that's all I need to say."

"Just be careful, will you?" Maili demanded with a surprising amount of passion. "I'm so impressed by what you've done so far, truly I am, but I can't help but feel afraid for you. I've been thinking about what Penelope said – you remember, the other night, when we went out for drinks – about how suspicious the whole ordeal sounds."

Ginny levitated her trunk and opened the door. "It doesn't sound that suspicious," she said with a shrug. "I'll be careful, don't worry."

She didn't see Maili frown and bite her lower lip as she took her belongings downstairs. She was going to take Muggle transportation to Draco's flat, most simply because it would transport her and her trunk without much fuss.

Ms. Okal, the inn's owner, found her a cab, and while she and the driver struggled to fit Ginny's trunk in the backseat, Ginny said goodbye to Maili on the front steps.

"How long are you going to be in Madrid?" Ginny asked, a little embarrassed about how attached she'd grown to the woman in such a short amount of time.

"I think we're leaving for Barcelona tomorrow," Maili replied, bouncing Kevin on her hip. He chewed on his finger and giggled. "But we'll be back after we tour Spain, won't we, Kevie?"

"Well," Ginny said, "I hope you have a good time."

"Thanks." Maili looked away from her son and smiled gently at Ginny. "Be careful, eh?"

She wondered why she felt like she was losing an old friend. "Yeah, I will. You too. If you're ever in England, stop by Ministry Headquarters in London. I'll be there." She gave Maili a hug that enveloped Kevin in the middle, and she kissed his chubby cheek. "Listen to your mummy, Kevin," she said sternly, but he only laughed at her.

"You're all set, Ms. Weasley!" Ms. Okal called from the street, proudly putting her hands on her hips. Her neat hairstyle was falling from its fastenings and her apron was crooked. Ginny immediately felt guilty for not helping in the task of fitting her trunk into the car.

"Thank you so much, for everything, Ms. Okal," she said sincerely, hurrying down the steps. "I really appreciate it. Once I get back to England I'll send you a bouquet or something."

Ms. Okal laughed. "Okay, I'll let you do that. Pink roses are my favorite, for the record."

Ginny slid into the front seat, waving at the three of them on the top step before she shut the door. They shouted their goodbyes as the cab pulled away, and she watched them in the side mirror until they disappeared around a corner.

She settled in her seat. Now, she had no more distractions. She could fully concentrate on Draco.

She felt strangely relaxed, but could not ignore the twinge of disappointment at the loss of someonewho could have become a close friend.

She enteredDraco's flat without knocking, sending her trunk to the floor with a flick of her wand. "I'm back!" she called, finding the kitchen and living room empty.

She heard running water, and then Draco came out of his bedroom with a toothbrush in his mouth. "That was quick," he said thickly through the paste.

"You know I can't stand to be away from you for too long," she said with a straight face, lifting up one end of her trunk. She followed him back into his room, dragging it behind her.

"Can't blame you," he said. He returned to the bathroom and she heard the water running again.

Heaving her trunk up onto the bed, she began to unpack her clothes. "So what's the schedule for today?" she asked, putting her things away without magic.

She waited while he spit into the sink, loudly. "I hadn't planned anything," he answered.

"Lucky for you that I'm here," she told him. "I was thinking we could see a film. There's a local cinema that's playing an American picture with Spanish subtitles – "

"Too bad I hate Muggles," he said, appearing in the doorway patting his mouth dry.

"And I'd thought you'd changed," she said sweetly. She glanced over at him to see his slightly indignant expression, but to her surprise it wasn't because of the topic of Muggles.

"Did I say you could put your clothes in my wardrobe?" he demanded.

She didn't reply for a moment as she shoved some of his shirts out of the way to make room for her own. "It was implied," she said vaguely.

"How so?"

"When you invited me to stay with you," she answered, looking back at him.

He didn't seem angry, but he did look sulky. It amused her. She paused in her task and sauntered up to him. Smiling coyly, she stuck one of her fingers in his belt loop and pulled him to her. He frowned, but did not try to get away as she snaked her arms around his neck and pressed her nose to his.

It was incredible how easy it was to touch him now. It was as natural as interacting with one of her brothers, except there was more excitement, more lust. And considering how she had blanched at the thought of cuddling with Draco two weeks ago, it was quite an accomplishment.

"Don't worry," she murmured. "My inadequate Weasley belongings won't take up much room at all."

His lips twitched, fighting a smile, and she kissed him lightly. He placed his hands on her hips, attempting to bring her into a full kiss, but she backed away, playing hard-to-get.

"So," she said cheerily, resuming her unpacking, "I'm here now. You have me all to yourself." She threw him another playful smile. "What are you going to do with me?"

The role of the seductress came almost automatically; she didn't have to think about it anymore. Somehow, when she was around Draco, it just happened. That wasn't to say she didn't have her moments of stupidity, but on the whole, she thought she was doing quite nicely when it came to the task of capturing Draco's attention.

He seemed to be liking it.

"Well," he said, sighing loudly and throwing the towel on the floor, "I guess I could take you to dinner."

She tried to keep her voice level, but her tone was a little too girlishly squeaky as she repeated, "You guess?" Seductress or no, she was still stunned that he even considered doing something so thoughtful and . . . and romantic. She'd spent the entire week with him and he hadn't mentioned doing anything outside of the flat. It was almost as if he didn't want to be seen with her in public.

What had brought on this pleasant surprise?

"I'm tired of your cooking," he said with an aloof shrug, as though it were no big deal.

She grinned. "That makes two of us." Turning back to the wardrobe, she examined her possessions. "What should I wear? Something fancy?"

She turned to see him advancing on her, and suppressed a giggle as he wrapped his arms around her in an enveloping hug. "Why don't you model your clothes for me and I'll pick what's best," he said, shuffling her towards the bed.

"I like that idea," she agreed, and laughed as he pushed her onto the bed, collapsing on top of her.

She couldn't stop smiling as he began to undress her, and it was because of one thought only.

She had him right where she wanted him.

"I suppose we should get dressed if we want to make dinner," she said thirty minutes later, her face half-scrunched into a pillow.

He turned his head to look at her. She lay on her side, arms curled around her pillow,her hair tumbling around her face and shoulders. He tried not to smile at how endearing she looked with all that red hair everywhere and her cheeks pink with an after-sex flush.

Endearing? He quickly looked away. Since when did he think of words like endearing? It wasn't even in his vocabulary. How embarrassing.

"We could order in," he suggested casually.

She lifted herself up on one elbow and peered down at him. "How do you do that?" she asked with an interested smile.

He resisted the urge to touch her. She wasn't modest, he noted,because she didn't bother to pull the sheets over her bare breasts. It was distracting. "Well, first you get a telephone," he began as if speaking to someone very stupid, slipping his eyes away to stare at the ceiling. "And then a phonebook. And then you ring a restaurant, place your order, and have them deliver it to our doorstep."

Our. Christ, there went another non-Malfoy vocabulary word. He was pleased to see that Ginny had not noticed his use of plural possessives as her expression remained the same.

"Well, then why don't you get the phone?" she asked him pleasantly.

He forced himself to look above her chest and at her face. "Me?" he said innocently. "You're the one who wants dinner."

Her smile turned to that of disbelief. "I don't know where your telephone is!" she cried, her eyes twinkling to relay her good mood. "And even if I did, I don't know where the book is, or how to use it."

"Then Accio it," he replied simply, closing his eyes as if to go to sleep. "And I'll do the rest."

"My wand's over there," she whined, nodding across the room to her heap of clothes.

He opened his eyes and had to laugh at her pout. "Then get up and get it," he told her. "It's not a hard concept, Weasley."

Her lower lip continued to jut out, but he ignored her. He hated it when she was so cute.

Cute. Good God. Why did he keep thinking these weak words? He seriously needed some male companionship.

She shifted, but she did not get out of bed. Instead, she swung a pale leg over his waist and straddled him. Startled, he looked up at her face, framed by that mass of wavy, impossibly red hair.

"Let's play a game, shall we?" she said in a husky, seductive voice. Her fingertips trailed lightly over his stomach. "I ask you a question about me." She bent forward and gently kissed where her fingers had just been, her hair brushing his chest. Peeking up at him through its red curtain, she continued with a tiny smile. "You answer correctly, I'll get the phonebook for you. If you don't, then I stay here while you fetch it. Have we got a deal?"

She still managed to surprise him. Damn it, he used to hate surprises. But her seductive act sure as hell was seducing, and though he couldn't admit it to himself, he loved it.

He snagged her wrists, pulling her down flat on top of him so her face was inches from his. "Ask away, Weasley," he said with a confident smirk.

She gave an evil chuckle. "Okay, Malfoy. What's my oldest brother's name?"

"Bill." The answer came to his mind so quickly and precisely that he was blurting it out before he even had a chance to think. There was a beat of silence, in which her eyes widened and he felt his heart jerk inside him.

He knew her oldest brother's name. So what? She talked about her family enough – in fact, she never shut up with stories about them. It was only natural that a perceptive, intelligent man like he should pick up on it.

But the reassurances did nothing to squelch the uneasy feeling that was creeping through him. Somehow, it didn't seem like a good thing that he knew that fact about her. It seemed intimate . . . too intimate.

After only a moment Ginny was smiling again, brushing her lips against his cheek as she brought her mouth to his ear. "Why, Draco," she murmured, her breath giving him chills, "you do care."

No, he didn't care. He didn't.

But as Ginny jumped from the bed with a laugh, the air cold against the part of his body she'd just kept warm, he realized with sickening lurch of his stomach that that wasn't entirely true. He wasn't indifferent towards her anymore. In fact, he would even venture so far to say he liked her. He liked her company, her forwardness and her sense of humor. She was completely different from the Ginny Weasley he thought he had known at Hogwarts.

Then another thought occurred to him, one that had him brightening considerably. It was just an act. The real Ginny wasn't a confident temptress. The Ginny he saw was the one who was trying to get her job done. An actress. Not real.

He liked the imposter. But he didn't like Ginny.

He had a satisfied grin on his face when Ginny came back into the room, telephone and phonebook in hand.

A/N: Yay for pure, unadulterated D/Gness! Hope you all had fun reading this REALLY short chapter, because it was fun to write. I'll probably resume long chapters next time; this was just kind of a filler.

Love you all!