Disclaimer: I'm not lucky enough to own Harry Potter & the gang—they all belong to the incomparable JK Rowling!

What happens when your boyfriend's 'spare bit of parchment' takes you and your arch-nemesis twenty years back in time? With the Marauders involved, things can get pretty interesting. ..

Mischief Managed: Ch. 11—the Hogsmeade Weekend

"Are you sure she's going to come with us, Remus?" Ginny said, a bit worried.

"She said that she'd be here," Remus nodded, "on the other hand, I did say that James had Quidditch practice and couldn't go."

"Oh wonderful, you lied to her?"

"I'm sure it didn't do much good—I needn't remind you that I'm a terrible liar."

In the meantime, a certain Gryffindor Quidditch Captain was busy making ready for his first date with the love of his life.

James had spent the morning trying out various ways to tame his unruly hair without any success.

"Bloody hell Prongs," Sirius bellowed, "are you about done in there? Mate, you're never going to have hair like mine, so just give it up already. Some of us have been waiting an hour to take a piss."

"Bugger off Padfoot," James hollered back, "it's my future wife we're talking about—not just some doxy."

After what seemed an eternity to Sirius Black, James was ready, hair still as unruly as before . He was sporting a tight fitted white turtleneck with gray pants and white trainers, topped off with (much to Sirius' envy) a pair of Armani shades.

"Damn you Prongs—why is it, every time she visits America, your Mum brings you back all the cool Muggle clothes, and what do I get? Candy!"

"Mum's a busy woman Padfoot—she just assumes the way to your heart is your stomach, old chap," James said fondly, as he viewed his reflection in the hallway mirror with satisfaction.

"Let's just hope Evans shows up, Prongs my lad," Sirius said in his best Scottish accent.

"Oh, but just look at me, Padfoot! How could she not?"

"So why don't you just give into Alsatia," Ginny teased Remus, "you know she fancies you."

The young werewolf blushed furiously, "I act like a proper fool around girls, and from what you've told me—I haven't improved much in twenty years."

"What haven't you improved, Remus?" Lily appeared suddenly behind them, startling poor Remus. She looked quite pretty indeed, with her emerald green jumper that brought out her startling eyes.

"His driving," Ginny thought up a quick lie, "he can't drive for shit."

Lily raised an eyebrow, "You drive, Ginny—the Muggle way? I thought you were a pureblood."

"We do have a car," Ginny answered truthfully, "a lovely blue Ford Anglia."

Lily grinned, "It's a good thing you aren't trying to impress my sister's fiancée—he tends to judge people by how big and expensive their cars are."

"Evans! My sweet, are you ready for our rendezvous? I am, oh most gracious for this opportunity"

"Oh...Potter," Lily shot Remus a glare, "I thought you had Quidditch."

James looked confused, "Not that I am aware of."

"Are you people about ready to go?" Sirius said, trying to spare his mate any more trouble.

Amazingly, James and Lily made the trip down to the Village without killing each other, though there were more than a few awkward silences.

"Mooney, Wormtail," Sirius said as James followed Lily into Honeydukes, "let's go to Zonkos—maybe they can tell us more about our 'you-know-what'."

"What are you three conjuring?" Ginny said curiously.

Sirius gave her a grin that screamed Fred and George. "I'm afraid its official Marauders business, Ginny."

"We'll see you later, Ginny," Remus called behind his shoulder as Sirius dragged him to the joke shop, "why don't you grab us a table at the Three Broomsticks?"

A butterbeer was just what Ginny needed, but Malfoy had beaten her to it.

"You stole my idea Weasley," he smiled wryly while pulling a chair out for her.

"Thanks Malfoy. You know, you aren't so bad for a bouncing ferret sometimes."

"You can be a pretty decent muggle-lover yourself, Weasley."

"I'm assuming that's a compliment--coming from you."

Ginny felt her cheeks flush as she felt the warm sensation of the butterbeer

Two hours later, Ginny and Draco were on their 12th round of butterbeer, and it was starting to affect them tremendously.

"I told you Weasley—it's not strong, that stuff," Draco cackled as Ginny dropped her empty bottle, "Hey bartender, another round for the lady."

Ginny's speech was slightly slurred, "I have you know—unlike my brothers—I know when to say no."

"Uh-huh," Draco grinned, feeling warm and toasty all over.

"So, ferret," Ginny took another swig of butterbeer, "tell me something about you—something you would only tell someone very special to you."

"What's there to tell? My favorite color is black. Does that help?"

"Who wouldn't know that? I want a scandalous secret—like that Snape is really your father."

"He is my godfather."

"Really?"

"Really, Weasley."

"Is that awful?"

"No—he's actually quite good, once you get to know him that is--something you Gryffindors would never think to do."

"But he's so vile to Harry!"

"Potter's no saint either. Professor Snape has his reasons for the way he is."

"Oh well," Ginny hiccoughed, "I want to know about the dreaded Malfoy, tell me about your manor."

"It's big--and dark."

"And your family?"

"Mum is never there—she's a Madam Malkin spokesmodel, so she travels a lot."

"Your Dad's in Azkaban, huh?"

"Yes—I suppose so, but I'm certain the Dementors will let them out any day now."

"Don't you miss him?"

"Not particularly."

"That's sad."

"Why? I've spent the summer with Zambini and Uncle Sev—it's been brilliant."

"UNCLE Sev?"

"Yes Weasley, Uncle Severus—you think that's funny do you?"

"Not really, it's really kind of—kind of sweet!"

"Sure..." he gave her a look that suggested she was absolutely mental.

"So tell me something you would never tell anyone else."

"What is it with you and your 20 questions, Weasley?

"I'm just curious, I don't know much about you besides the fact that your Dad is evil and you make a nice white ferret."

"I like my privacy."

"So that's why you're such a wanker, you're hiding something."

"Am not!"

"Are to! "What is it Draco? I'm sure it's nothing scandalous—well—Uncle Sev isn't your father is he?"

"You've been watching entirely too much Star Wars, Weasley."

"What is it then, you're secretly gay?"

"WEASLEY!"

"Just checking."

"My mum's a Veela, okay? Are you happy now?"

Ginny began laughing maniacally--a laugh that would have made the Voldything himself really proud.

"If you say anything to anyone, especially Potter, I will personally kill you."

"I wouldn't say anything, but come on---Draco Malfoy—a Veela?"

"Half, Weasley—half is the key word."

"Ha! Filthy little half-blood," she said jokingly.

"How dare you?" he glared at her, now wishing he hadn't said anything.

"Its all right Draco, you can still be a Death Eater—You Know Who is a half-blood, too."

"Look! Drop the Death Eater thing—I know what my Father is, okay?"

"Ok," she said, rather taken aback.

Maybe there was more to Draco Malfoy than she had given him credit for. After all, he had seemed to be leaving Lily Evans alone…but Ginny could never be certain that Draco Malfoy was truly on their side.