Chapter 46- Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

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In Charms, Professor Flitwick instructed the class to make eggcups do cartwheels for 'review.'

Ginny sent her eggcup rolling, fighting the urge to roll her eyes when Colin whispered, "Did you hear about that Hufflepuff who went mental over the stress of OWLs and ran screaming out of her common room?"

She lost the fight, rolling her eyes in a slow, exasperated motion. "Hilary Duff ran screaming because she had a massive zit on her forehead, and somebody asked if she'd become a Hindu."

"No!"

"Yes. Just because someone's a Hufflepuff, doesn't mean they can't have a Slytherin moment."

Colin grinned. "Yeah. After all, we know a Slytherin who can act like a Hufflepuff!"

Her giggle over the reference to Blaise cut short by the sound of a throat being cleared. Professor Flitwick stood nearby. He gave them an admonishing look. She mouthed, 'Sorry' while wishing her teacher was a bit taller so she could have seen him coming.

To appear properly studious, she waved her wand and made the eggcup cartwheel once more. The teacher beamed his approval.

Ginny closed her eyelids, so she could roll her eyes again without risking detention. She was sick of reviewing for OWLs, except for her practice sessions with Draco. He gave kissed as an incentive to excel.

After finishing with the practical review, Flitwick assigned silent reading of M. Poppins' essay on Levitation Charms.

She knew the material by heart, so pretended to read while thinking about her boyfriend instead. In the weeks since she had used the Invisibility Cloak to visit Draco, Ginny often went over the events of that night, wondering what effect they would have on the future. Her mouth curved in a smile. How excited and apprehensive she'd been, climbing the Slytherin boys' staircase.

In the stress of the moment, she forgot which door was Draco's. Opening the wrong one, she walked in and clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. The sight of Montague's hairy chest caused her to shudder and close her eyes tightly before whirling around to make a speedy exit.

Inside the next chamber, two single and one double bed proved she had the right room. Ginny opened the bed curtains and slipped inside.

"You back, Blaise?"

She pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and whispered, "Lumos minor." The softly glowing tip of her wand revealed Draco's sprawled body. His black trousers made the pale musculature of his torso look like something sculpted out of marble. Eyes closed, he reached out, and touched her arm.

"I need a hug."

A pouting lower lip and a tug accompanied the faintly slurring words. Off-balanced, she fell against him. He rolled, placing his head against her chest. Instinctively, her fingers lifted to caress his hair.

"Tha's nice. I don' wanna be alone. Bad things are in the dark." Before she could do more than take a breath to speak, he rubbed his cheek against her and chuckled, "Did my pillow get fluffier? You didn' have to do tha', you were jus' fine..."

She hastily uttered a sobering spell learnt from her brothers.

One set of thick white-blond eyelashes lifted. After a moment, what Draco saw registered, because grey eyes opened wide. "Ginny?"

His head and body jerked away from her. The quick motion made him press his palms to his temples with a hiss of pain. Sitting up and leaning toward her, he repeated, all trace of slurring gone, "How did you get here?"

She offered a brushing/flossing mint. He took it with a snort of amusement. Reaching out to rub his temples, Ginny said, "Blaise came and got me. She said that you needed me."

His gaze slid away. The corners of his mouth turned down. She could feel the tension beneath her circling fingertips even though his tone was impassive. "Did she say why?"

"Your father sent a letter that..." Her voice halted when he abruptly pulled away from her, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and putting his head in his hands. She stroked his back. "The letter upset you so much that you brooded, got drunk, and turned to Blaise for comfort."

"Some comfort. What, she have plans with her Ape Man? Is that why she went running to you?"

She pulled hard on his shoulders. He fell back onto the mattress. Pushing him down when he tried to sit up, Ginny bent and whispered fiercely, "Drop the self pity. She wasn't crying out of relief to have you off her hands." Kissing him possessively, she declared, "Blaise did the right thing. I'm your girlfriend. I'm the one who should be here to hold you."

The ease with which he pushed her back against the bed and shifted to hold her body down with his would've been embarrassing if she could feel anything except a startled thrill. Draco smiled in a way that sent shivers skittering down her spine. "Then hold me."

His lips seduced hers to part. Her lids became heavy as he pressed deep, drugging kisses to her mouth. She closed her eyes and fell into a silken darkness that enveloped and obliterated all thought except pulling him closer. When he rolled away to lie beside her, Ginny automatically turned to bring him back to her. Draco held her against his chest.

Huskily, he said, "That kind of comfort goes to my head and could get me in deep trouble, Gin-blossom."

The wry note in his voice made Ginny lift her head to smile. "Regretting that Wizard's Handshake?"

His silvery gaze focused on her mouth. "Yes." He shook his head. "I mean no." Giving a short laugh, he said, "Right this minute, yeah, I wish I hadn't, but overall, I don't regret it." His fingers sifted through her hair and then gently pushed her down to lie against him. After several minutes of silence, he admitted, "Blaise was right. I do need you. My father is disappointed in me, and obliquely told me to stop seeing you or else."

His arms tightened around her. She could hear his heart pound. Soothingly, she said, "Lucius won't harm you. You're the heir of a pure-blood family."

Draco said, "Thy love is better than high birth to me."

Ginny smiled. "Shakespeare?"

"Yeah." His tone changed. "I'm not worried about myself."

The sombreness frightened her. In her mind, she heard Blaise say warningly over the breakfast table in Spain, 'The last thing we need is to give Lucius a reason to escape Azkaban.'

Ginny deliberately kept her voice light. "Don't worry about me. If you think your father will try and harm me, my dad has connections that can help." She said, "I'm pretty handy with a hex or jinx, as well." Rubbing her cheek against him, she teased, "Good thing I prefer firm, because my pillow's not very fluffy."

His chest shook with repressed laughter before his tone became serious. "I drank because I thought I'd have to give you up, and I couldn't do it sober."

Ginny lifted her head to gaze into shadowed eyes. "You can't give me up. I refuse to go."

He grinned appreciatively. "Feisty...one of the reasons why I love you so damned much."

She slithered up to plant a kiss on his mouth. "You'd better, because that's how much I love you."

Rudely jolted from the memory of Draco's embrace, Ginny glared at the boy who had shaken her arm. "What?" she snapped.

Colin laughed, pointing to the students filing out of the classroom. "Time to go, space case." When she frowned at the unfamiliar Muggle term, Colin snickered. "Did you switch brains with Luna or something?"

The thought made her laugh softly. "Something, mate. Definitely something."

"Well, if Malfoy doesn't show up to walk you to lunch, I'll escort you." Shaking his head, her friend said, "You must have really low blood sugar to act this way."

Ginny insisted that they wait for several minutes outside the classroom before she reluctantly accompanied Colin toward the Great Hall. Nearing the Entry, he smiled and nodded toward the boys' lavatory. "Nature calls. Go on and save me some red grapes, okay?"

"Sure."

When Ginny passed the last door before the Entry Hall, she wasn't overly startled when her robe was snagged and she was tugged inside. She thought it was Draco, re-enacting one of their covert encounters. She smiled at the romantic gesture.

Her smile froze to see it wasn't her boyfriend who had pulled her into the room. It was Montague.

"Thought I was Malfoy, Weaselette? Too bad for you, I'm not."

She yanked her arm out of his grasp. "No, that's too bad for you, because then you'd be a decent person." She turned to leave.

His wand dug into her chin. "You don't leave until I allow it, blood-traitor."

It was hard not to sneer at seven measly inches of willow, but she refrained, sliding her hand into her pocket while she said, "All right. Have your say."

The pressure against her throat eased. Her fingers tightened around her wand while the bully said, "I know people in high places, and they don't want the likes of you mucking up Malfoy's future. Since you're a pure-blood, you get a warning. Stay away from him, or pay the price."

Ginny bit her tongue until she could reply calmly, "What price is that?"

His wand rose to slide across her cheek. It felt as slimy as its owner did. His broad, coarse face broke into a gruesome smile. "How'd you like to lose your pretty face? Bet Malfoy wouldn't want you if these cute freckles were scars."

Through her robe pocket, she pointed her wand while saying, "Expelliarmus!" His wand flew across the room. When Montague raised his fist, she cried, "Petrificus Totalus!" He froze. She jumped when the door behind her slammed open.

"Leave her alone you bastard!"

Draco stormed into the room, wand at the ready. He stared at the petrified Chaser and then turned to pull her close. After hugging her so hard that she could barely breathe, he kissed her remaining breath away. When Ginny shared what had happened, he told her that Colin's worried look upon noticing her absence made him reach for the Trackingbrall in his pocket.

Upon viewing her amazement, and the hole that the magical blast had put in her robe, Draco grinned. "Have I ever told you that you would've made a superb Slytherin?"

She laughed in reaction to the relief she felt. "I think you would've been a great Gryffindor."

He gave a look of exaggerated horror.

She dissolved into giggles.

Draco chuckled. "Montague's too ugly to become a permanent statue. I think my Head of House needs to hear how a prefect has abused, and deserves to lose, his position." With a sweeping bow that reminded her of a dashing Captain of the Guard, he said, "The honour is yours, Cherie."

Ginny blew him a kiss. "Merci, Mon Coeur." She waved her wand, said "Mobilicorpus," and set the frozen boy into motion.

-

-

After Draco had rushed out of the Hall in search of Ginny, Blaise attempted to finish her lunch.

Pansy and Millicent sneering while muttering snide comments to each other didn't faze her. She was used to the unappetizing view.

Crabbe and Goyle, who had asked her to call them Mr. C and Mr. G--when nobody else was around--offered her the last chocolate chip biscuit from the platter they had devoured. She took it with a smile. They could be so sweet. Blaise glanced over at Terry. He was smiling at something Wesley said. Her gaze lingered, wondering when they would be able to sit and talk like that again. Her throat began to ache.

Impulsively, she walked over to the Ravenclaw table and handed Terry the biscuit. "For my sweetie." His smile brought tears to her eyes. She left the Hall, blinking madly in order to keep from crying like a ruddy Hufflepuff.

"Pssttt...Zabini...Blaise...over here!"

What was with people waylaying her behind the statue of Bertha the Behemoth? Was it the statue's proximity to the Hall? She recognised the speaker's voice and approached warily. The last time she and Granger had a private chat, the girl hexed her. Not wanting to dance until she almost dropped again, she palmed her wand. "Your parents didn't forbid you to talk to me, did they? Why the secrecy?"

The girl tucked a bushy strand of hair behind her ear. "I've been taking a lot of...nonsense...because of Ginny and Draco. I didn't want to give people another excuse to call me a 'Slytherin lover.'" Defiantly, she said, "I suppose you'd chat in front of anybody and give a rude gesture if they commented."

"No, I do my share of sneaking around." Blaise grinned. "Rude gestures, too." Curious, she asked, "What did you want to talk about?"

The girl glanced down at fingernails she probably kept short for practical reasons. "I wouldn't normally ask, but Ginny's been rather...busy lately...so I decided that since you helped her get Hands to sponsor the Valentine's dance, I'd ask you to help get him to support an End of Year ball."

Interested, despite the pang that thinking of a Ball without Terry caused, Blaise said, "Muggles sure have a lot of dances." She thought about it for a moment. "Would the formal attire be Muggle or wizard?"

"If it was optional, then those who have dress robes but can't afford or don't want to wear Muggle attire wouldn't be excluded." The smile that curved Hermione's lips was smug. "No one could object, either."

Blaise's respect for the other girl bumped up another notch. Maybe she was the brightest witch of their time. Giving Granger a considering once-over, she asked, "Do you have a Muggle ball gown?"

"No. I'll wear my dress robes. I only wore them once, to the Yule Ball. They're perfectly serviceable."

That stiff, proud tone didn't match the wistful look in light brown eyes. Blaise said, "If I agree to manoeuvre Hands to sponsor the ball, then you have to agree to a Girls' Day Out with Ginny, Luna, and a couple of others." She waved her hand airily. "Shopping, hair, nails, lunch...deal?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I am a prefect. Are you suggesting that I leave school grounds without permission? To flit about London shopping, I presume?"

A little Slytherin persuasion was called for. "There's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up. We'd just be going...a little further...off school grounds."

The girl looked only a little more agreeable. "How will we get to London?"

"Floo."

Hermione levelled a look that made Blaise fight not to fidget. "And where is this floo located?"

"The Hog's Head."

"Hmmm...prudent choice."

Praise Merlin, the formidable girl was starting to come round! Using the silkiest voice possible, Blaise painted a beguiling image with words. "Imagine finding that perfect dress, wearing it to the ball, seeing the look on Ron's face when he beholds you, a vision of loveliness, descending the girls' staircase."

Hermione was silent for so long that Blaise started to worry. Had she gone overboard?

"A vision of loveliness?"

Repressing the urge to shout with triumph, she smiled. "You'll take his breath away. Is that a yes?"

"I shouldn't."

"But you will?"

"I will--once you win over Hands."

Blaise grinned. "It's as good as done."

Once in the main corridor, she saw a slim blond ahead of her and ran to catch up with him. "Colin, wait up, I need you!"

Blue eyes lit with unholy amusement. "Sorry, Blaise, too late, I've already got a girlfriend." When she punched him in the arm, he said, "Ow! Don't take rejection well, do you?" Stepping out of right jab range, he said, "All right, don't abuse me. How may I be of assistance?"

"Help me think up a way to convince Professor Hands to sponsor an End of Year ball to Dumbledore."

He stared. Pale brows contracted in thought and then smoothed out. The devious glint in his eyes gave her hope. Colin snapped his fingers. "Easy. We sing one of his favourite songs and then you do your Marilyn Monroe act. Hands agrees in order to show what a big, strong, influential man he is, the wanker."

She said, "What's a 'Marilyn Monroe act'?"

Colin batted his eyelashes in exaggerated fashion. Breathily, he cooed, "Professor Hands, I was wondering, do you think that someone as influential and distinguished as yourself were to propose an End of Year ball that the headmaster would agree?"

She pinched his cheek. "How about you do it, blondie?"

Colin smirked. "Sorry, you're the one whose picture Hands will want to have autographed so he can brag that the Zabini Girl has the hots for teacher." Seeing her grimace of distaste, he laughed incorrigibly. "Meet me in the library before the class. We need to pick out a song."

"Okay, see you."

Binns never noticed when she was late to class, but Draco did. When she sat down at the table, he said, "What have you been up to?"

Glancing sideways, she asked, "What have you been up to?" He raised a platinum brow imperiously. She arched a dark one in return.

After several minutes' impasse, her mate shrugged. "I went to save Ginny from whoever had kept her from the Hall, only to find that she'd taken care of Montague already."

She teased, "Did you pout?"

"Hardly. I snogged her breathless and escorted her, and the bastard she'd petrified, to Snape's office."

"What did Snape do?"

"Montague has detention with Filch until the end of term, and if he threatens Ginny again, he loses his prefect privileges and faces Ministry charges."

Blaise mirrored Draco's smile. He stared pointedly until she confessed, "I asked Colin if he would help me persuade Hands to go to Dumbledore and suggest a ball."

"Why? You can't dance with Boot."

"So?"

He was staring commandingly again. She pretended not to notice.

Binns droned, "Which founding wizard of the Wizengamot said 'I cannot tell a lie'? Anyone? Anyone?"

Doodling Terry's name distracted from the silent pressure--for a few minutes. So did sketching a picture of her inquisitive friend with an appropriately long nose. He reached out and snatched the drawing.

Draco changed the nose to a classically perfect length, pocketed it and leaned close to whisper, "Funny, really funny...almost as much as this."

This was his fingers darting out to poke her side. Blaise bit her lip. Gods, he was ruthless. She was incredibly ticklish. Stubbornly, she shook her head. No way was she going to tell him her reason for wanting to lobby for a dance. He struck again. She had to bite a knuckle to stop from laughing.

Draco smiled wickedly. "You either tell me what I want to know, or I continue to tickle-torture you. The easy way, or the hard way, you decide."

Ungraciously, she gave in. "Merlin, all right, stop already. Granger asked me to, okay, happy now?"

He shook his head in amused disbelief. "Just when I thought you couldn't act more like a Hufflepuff."

Blaise decided not to share about the 'Girls' Day Out.' Ginny could tell him later. Much later, like the day before Hogsmeade weekend. When the class was over, she sneered when he wished her good luck. "Yeah, right. You finally realised that a dance means you get to see Red all dressed up, more like it. Bye."

In the back of the library near the Restricted Section, Colin was leafing through a portfolio of music.

She tossed her schoolbag onto the table and sat down beside him. "So, what have you got?"

He continued to search. "I remembered seeing Hands mouthing every word to that Elton John song Wesley and Luna sang at the Valentine's dance. I figure if we sing it, we're halfway to yes."

She moved closer to help sort. "Sword and stone, you've loads of songs! How will you find it?"

He lifted a sheet of music. "Elementary, my dear Blaise. I looked in the 'Mum's favourites' section."

"Your mum liked Elton John? Is that why you have it, to remember her by?"

"Yes. She'd clean house to his greatest hits record." At her blank look, he elaborated, "Records are like Orpheus Orbs except flat, and the old ones get scratchy."

His smile was reminiscent, and tinged with sadness. Blaise felt like a git for bringing painful memories up. "Oh. I'm sorry if I upset you, asking about her. That's tough, losing your mum."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a strawberry-blonde approach and called, "Mindy, over here!" Blaise filled her in on the song and it being one of Colin's mum's favourites.

Mindy's sceptical look turned tender when he stated with puppy-dog eyes, "Yeah, I really miss her." Giving the girl a heart-tugging look, he said, "I miss her hugs."

His girlfriend hugged him.

Blaise smiled. Aw, that was sweet.

He sighed. "I miss the way she used to kiss me goodnight, too."

Mindy leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. He turned his head and kissed her full on the mouth before pulling back to laugh at her sputtering. "We were a very affectionate family."

Blaise shook her head. "You really are a perv. Let me see the song." She scanned the notes. "I remember Don't Go Breaking My Heart. I can't sing the girly part. Too high. Mind swapping?"

"Of course not. Remember that song Broken?"

She had tried to forget. "Sure. Let's do it."

In Muggle Studies, Blaise waited until after she and Colin sang the song to ask wide-eyed, in a breathy voice, "Professor Hands, this wonderful song reminds me of the Valentine's Dance. Do you think it's possible for the school to have an End of Year ball, like Muggles have, to promote tolerance and harmony and...stuff?" Elbowing Colin, who was snorting over her eloquent ending, she used the feminine wile that her mother swore no man could resist. Blaise bent her head, as if shy, and then raised her eyes entreatingly.

The teacher smiled at her with amiable condescension. "With me, all things are possible. Remain after class, and we'll talk about it then."

On the way back to her desk, Blaise looked at Ginny and whispered a single word. Passing Luna, she repeated the soft plea of "Help!"

-

-

Any girl asked to remain after class with a Professor named Manny Randy Hands had a right to panic, in Luna's opinion. She smiled reassuringly at Blaise, who looked greatly relieved.

The teacher began pontificate on the different types of Muggle transportation. Since her father had done a series of articles titled 'License to Drive, or License to Kill?' she felt knowledgeable enough to not to have to pay close attention. Instead, Luna's mind turned inward, to last night's vivid dream. She had dreamt of a place out of myth or legend, a Neverland, where a pirate ship glided through dark waters, sails billowing.

The Jolly Roger rippled in the stiff breeze, the skull and cross bones glowing white against the black fabric. The full moon shone brightly on the deck of the pirate ship Revenge.

Two men were carrying on a swordfight from bow to stern. One smiled wickedly while parrying. He was every inch a pirate, from his black plumed hat and wavy brown hair to his thigh high boots. The other man looked more like a fencing master due to his severely tailored black clothing, pulled back hair and finesse with a blade.

A thud resounded from the planks of the deck. Bound and gagged, a mermaid with a tail covered in iridescent scales was attempting to propel herself toward the railing.

The pirate noticed the raven-haired siren's actions. He laughed. "I must admit, sir, that your lady love is plucky as well as uncommonly pretty. After I'm through with you, perhaps I'll keep her in a tank, for those lonely nights at sea."

The fencing master's expression became even grimmer. "The only thing you'll embrace will be death, when I send you down to Davy Jones' locker."

The clang and rasp of steel intensified.

From below deck came a shimmering streak of gold. Zooming over to the combatants, the tiny orb of light circled the pair before hovering in front of the pirate. A faery shook her diminutive fist and scolded fiercely. Impatiently, the man waved a steel hook and sent her flying. She landed on the deck with an indignant peep. While the adversaries continued their duel, the glow about the tiny being grew steadily larger, until the fae became the size of a human woman.

She was a unique looking female, with her pale skin, layered green dress, and long, flyaway blonde hair. Taking a wobbly step forward, she shouted,"James Hook, stop that nonsense this instant!"

The pirate's opponent took advantage of the Captain's distraction to engage and then disarm the rogue. The faery exclaiming halted the sword tip pressing into Hook's chest. "No! Don't kill him!"

Stygian eyes flashed. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Because I love him, and I'll let you and the siren go free!"

With a stiff nod, the man backed away and rushed back to free the mermaid.

Hook strode toward the faerie. "Tink, why the devil did you go and--"

"Don't call me Tink! That's the name given by a selfish little boy and I won't answer to it anymore."

After rolling blue eyes, the pirate grasped the faery's arms. "Sybil, that siren and her paramour are responsible for my first mate's death. That must be revenged."

"No, James," she said. " Smee drank too much and fell overboard trying to catch a peek at a mermaid without her shells. It isn't their fault that the crocodile ate him." She stroked his cheek tenderly. "It is not your fault either, so end this now."

Without glancing at the other couple, Hook declared, "You are free to go."

A resounding splash caused the man to spin around and rush to the opposite rail, Sybil at his side. Gaping at the sight of the mermaid and her lover embracing while floating slowly away, he shook his head at the un-natural buoyancy. Turning to the woman smiling at his reaction, the Captain snapped, "What is so demmed amusing?"

"You are. James, would you like to fly?"

His mouth twisted self-mockingly. "Alas, I have no happy thoughts."

She kissed him softly. "I love you, I'll be your first mate in every way, and if you search your heart, you'll admit that you love me too. Think about it. You've got happy thoughts."

Captain Hook's mouth curved in a smile that held no trace of cynicism. Cradling Sybil's face in his hands, he kissed her gently. She slid her arms around his neck; he slid his fingers into her hair. The embrace turned passionate, and neither noticed when their feet left the deck and began to float upwards.

-

"Do you find Muggle accident statistics amusing, Miss Lovegood?"

Startled into awareness, Luna's dreamy smile faltered. She blinked at the frowning professor and denied, "No, I'm only...so grateful...that my father doesn't have to use Muggle transportation."

Hands' disapproving expression relaxed. "Yes, the Wizarding world has much to be thankful for." He waved his wand at the blackboard. "The assignment due next class is an essay contrasting a Muggle and Magical method of transportation. If you have not experienced a Muggle mode, then I suggest you owl a parent or relative and get their account. Class dismissed."

The class quickly emptied.

Luna smiled when Blaise crossed her fingers and whispered 'wish us luck' before the three girls walked up to the professor. Hands sat at his desk, sandy-blond head lowered to search through a desk drawer. With an exclamation of triumph, he pulled out a copy of Cosmopolitan Witch and opened the glossy magazine to the Zabini Jewellers ad.

The girls traded incredulous glances.

The wizard said defensively, "I enjoy the quizzes."

Blaise smiled. "So do I. Would you like me to sign that 'for my favourite Muggle Studies teacher'?"

Professor Hands loosened his tie. "If you insist, my dear."

Smile brittle but determined, Blaise scrawled the autograph. Hands leaned back in his chair, weaving his fingers together and resting them on his paunchy abdomen. He said, "Ladies, tell me your ideas for this 'End of the World' dance."

Luna tried not to laugh. "It's the 'End of Year' ball, actually."

Ginny said, "I'm sure Professor Lorelei would be more than happy to organise the decorations again."

A definite spark of interest lit the man's eyes as Blaise began to explain how harmony and understanding would be credited to him. Nodding in a rhythmic way that was almost hypnotic, the man smiled genially at the end of the girl's pitch. "Allowing students to choose whether to wear dress robes or Muggle formal wear is an excellent way to promote tolerance. I approve." With a heavy sigh, he confided, "So many of my ideas to promote appreciation and acceptance of the non-magical have fallen on stony ground, never to take root, flourish, and bear fruit." Hands smiled sadly. "Muggle Spirit Week, Muggle History Month and the Muggle Film Festival, were all brilliant ideas that withered on the vine."

Luna looked at Blaise and mouthed, 'say something.'

The other girl hastily said, "Oh, that's too bad. I would've participated in Muggle Spirit Week."

Hands sat up straight. "Would you have worn that bikini in the ad on 'Swimwear Day'?"

Ginny's elbow to the side didn't prod the Slytherin to speech, but Luna's gentle kick to the ankle finally prodded Blaise to agree, "Um...sure."

Sighing deeply, the man shook his head. "How that would've raised school spirit." He gave another regretful exhalation. "Well, I shall use my considerable influence to persuade the headmaster of the vital importance of this ball. By the next class, I am confident that Hogwarts will be one giant step closer to tolerance."

The three girls each thanked the professor and turned to leave.

"Ladies, one last question."

Luna said, "Yes, Professor?"

"Will you three be wearing...Muggle gowns?"

"Yes, sir," she said along with the other girls.

His smile widened. "Excellent."

Blaise whimpered. Ginny pulled her out of the room while Luna closed the door and smiled to see the Slytherin shuddering. "Ugh, Ick, Eeuwww, he is the lowest, slimiest, ickiest, vilest teacher on the planet!"

Ginny sniggered. "Please, don't repress your feelings. Tell us how you really feel."

"It was for the greater good," Luna reminded. When the other girls nodded, she said straight-faced, "Just try not to think about how your gowns are going to raise Hands' spirits."

Both her friends' faces scrunched in disgust.

Back at Ravenclaw, she saw Wesley was sitting at a table, dividing his attention between a text and a girl who was standing beside him. Luna stood still while housemates moved past her into the chamber. She unclenched her fists and forced her overheating brain to function rationally. Observing the situation without a red haze in front of her eyes revealed two things. First, the girl--some sixth year--was trying her best to chat the boy up. Secondly, Wesley was only being polite.

Blood pressure stabilising, Luna walked over to the table, a serene smile on her face. Wesley looked up, his face brightening noticeably upon seeing her.

Viewing the swing of her hips, a dashing eyebrow lifted. He chuckled when she dropped her bag and sat on his lap. Blue eyes gleamed when she pulled his head down for a long, deep kiss. When she finally lifted her mouth from his, the girl was gone.

The satisfied look on her face made Wesley laugh softly. "That's one girl who will never ask to borrow my Potions notes again."

"Not if she doesn't want to brew trouble."

His merry laughter made her, and several other girls smile. "I like your possessive streak, Bella Luna." He lifted a strand of her hair and began winding it around his finger. "It matches mine."

She saw a prefect enter and slid over to the chair next to Wesley before informing him about the Muggle-style ball Professor Hands had agreed to sponsor. She asked, "Do you think the headmaster will agree to hold one?"

"Why not? Dumbledore seemed to like the last dance, and probably doesn't care what a few parents say about their darling pure-bloods being forced to enjoy themselves with inferior classmates."

His finger was now a lovely shade of purple. Kissing it, she released the digit from its silky bondage and asked, "Will you dress Muggle or wizard?"

He looked surprised. "It's optional? That's inspired." He gave her a heated look. "It depends on what you'd like to see me in, Buttercup."

Luna felt her cheeks turn pink. "The modern tuxedo you wore to the New Year's Eve party would look s--nice."

Bright eyes twinkled while he teased, "S'nice...is that anything like s'wonderful, or s'marvellous?"

Blushing, she scolded, "You know I was going to say sexy."

The backs of his fingers brushed her cheek. "I know, but I like to hear you say it. Really raises my spirits."

She burst out laughing. It was several minutes before she could control her mirth enough to say what exactly was so funny.

-

-

On the morning of Hogsmeade weekend, Draco lay in bed thinking that this day had seemed to take forever to arrive. As a sixth year, he was free from the burden of OWLs or NEWTs, but he had felt pressure all the same.

Ginny, always spirited, had become more so over the weeks of review and testing. One day, she would complain that her teachers were becoming obsessive compulsive. The next, his girl would demand that he help practise a Charm or test her on History of Magic one more time. If he tried to suggest they take a break, she snapped at him. When he indicated his willingness to press on reviewing, she would throw herself into his arms and try to snog his lips off. He sat up. Ginny bewitched or bedevilled by turns, but she was never boring.

He sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand over his hair. It was overlong, falling into his eyes, but he still refused to have it trimmed. Red had become fixated on it, always touching his 'gorgeous platinum hair' and in moments of whimsy, murmuring, 'grow, hair, grow.'

Lips quirking, Draco stood and began to stretch. A quick glance in his mirror reassured that his muscular tone was still at its peak, even though Quidditch season had ended and he'd only been able to work out a couple of times in the last fortnight. The thought of Ginny's hands roaming a chest lacking tone or definition made him vow to hit the weights more often.

When he flexed his pecs, the amusement he felt over his display of vanity changed to chagrin when a sleepy voice asked, "That's a cool trick, boss. I can wiggle my ears. Wanna see?"

Draco turned to see Crabbe's ears wiggling. He said dryly, "You're talented, Vincent."

"I can wriggle my nose like a rabbit," said Goyle, obviously wanting equal praise.

He sighed. "I stand in awe." Draco strode toward his trunk, halting when an ominous flapping sound reverberated at the window.

"That's a big blackbird."

Tonelessly, he corrected, "It's a raven, Crabbe." An idea formed. Opening the window wide, he backed over to his bed. When the bird hopped into the room, he grabbed his wand and waved. "Includere!" A cage materialised around the raven flapping its wings, cawing angrily. Draco pointed his wand again. "Silencio!"

He bent to pick up the envelope that had dropped onto the rug. It was black, with the Malfoy seal impressed into green wax this time.

"Are you going to open that?" Goyle asked.

He shook his head. "Not yet." He placed the missive into a pouch in his trunk, gathered a black shirt and trousers and warded the trunk before heading to the shower. Standing beneath the hot spray, he deliberated what to do. There were options. He could ignore what was undoubtedly a second warning, give in to it, or ask for help.

He was still undecided when he returned to the room.

"Uh...boss?"

"Yes, Goyle?"

"Is that bird your new pet? Can I feed it, and water it, and call it George?"

"It's not a pet, but yes, you can care for it as long as you don't open the cage or get your fingers too close. It's not a nice bird, Gregory."

In his pyjamas printed with tiny Hogwarts Express trains, the huge boy seemed especially childlike, crouching on the floor in front of the cage. A sharp beak lashed out, almost striking the thick outstretched fingers. Goyle pulled his hand back. "He's an angry bird." Snatching hold of the ring at the top of the cage, the boy shook the wrought iron. "Naughty, naughty. Be good or be thirsty, George."

The way the raven cocked its head and quit beating its wings against the bars caused a chill to shudder down Draco's spine. Could the raven be an Animagus? The situation was becoming complicated.

He said with forced casualness, "I think our bird needs someone to watch him constantly. If you two take turns while getting dressed, I'll have Slinky send you up a breakfast tray and some seed and water for...George..." His cronies nodded obediently. Goyle lumbered into the lavatory while Draco called into the fireplace. Slinky agreed to bring the requested items, glancing curiously at the raven before leaving.

Crabbe sat down in front of the cage. "I don't think you should keep this bird as a pet, boss. I think he's bad." He stared solemnly at the raven. "If George pecks me, can I wring his neck?"

Was that a panicked silent squawk? Smiling unpleasantly, Draco waited several moments before he said, "No, but feel free to give our bird a Stinging Hex to teach him manners."

Goyle relieved Crabbe on guard duty. After warding the cage to prevent Gregory from trying to hug or squeeze 'George' and allowing him to escape, Draco went downstairs.

Blaise looked up with a smile, reaching for the pot to pour him a cup of tea. Handing him the mug, she slanted a quick glance to make sure Fiona and Morrigan were absorbed in their own discussion before whispering, "What's wrong?"

He filled her in.

She bit her lip. "You need help. Why don't you guys go have a talk with Mr. Weasley while we're having our day out?"

Draco frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Ginny didn't tell you...last night...about our plans for a Girls' Day Out?"

A humourless laugh accompanied his flat, "No."

She laughed nervously, "Heh, that's funny, she said she would." Big brown eyes entreated. "We're going to go into London to find a dress for the ball and do girly stuff. Have lunch, while you do...manly stuff."

"Who are we?"

"Ginny, Me, Luna, Fiona, Morrigan, and...Hermione."

He tried to imagine the diverse group doing 'girly stuff.' It was impossible. Granger and girly were not words he associated together. Trying to bend his mind around the boggling idea, Draco asked sarcastically, "Who are the blokes you expect me to do 'manly stuff' with?"

She started nibbling a fingernail. One look from him halted the nervous habit. In an undertone, his mate listed, "Wesley, not David since he made plans, or Terry since he's restricted, so that leaves..." Blaise rushed through the last names so fast they sounded like one, "HarryandRon."

He accepted a bowl of porridge and repeated blankly, "Harry and Ron." Reflexively, he picked up a spoon and began to eat.

Morrigan leaned over. "Are you okay with our plans, Draco?"

Why wouldn't he be? His girl got to go swanning off to London while he was expected to spend hours with three blokes who had each, at one time or another, kicked, or helped to kick, his arse. It would be jolly good fun, what? He started to shake with silent laughter.

Blaise took his hand. "I'm serious about asking Mr. Weasley for help if you don't want to take the raven to Snape or Dumbledore. He'll help you with Lucius." Squeezing his fingers gently, she pleaded, "Let him help you, please, for me...and even more for Ginny's sake."

Draco looked away from misty eyes, swallowing before nodding abruptly. "Fine, I'll do it. You go off, have fun, and I'll go give my girlfriend's father another reason to hate me."

She leaned over and planted a smacking kiss on his cheek. "One day he'll love you almost as much as I do."

A strident voice said, "Look at them, Milty. Don't they make you sick?"

Parkinson stood with her hand in the crook of Montague's arm. The Chaser pulled the pug-faced girl away. "Ignore them Pansy. Let's go to the Hall and eat."

Sneering, the girl allowed the barrel-chested boy to steer her to the entrance.

Fiona said in a strangled voice, "Milty? Montague's first name is Milty?"

Morrigan laughed. "Milton Montague. What a horrible name to give a child. No wonder he turned out so badly."

Draco imagined Pansy trying to get her new boyfriend interested in a kiss and cuddle and began to chuckle.

Beside him, Blaise smiled. "Everything will work out, won't it?"

He shrugged. "We'll certainly find out."

Once the group made its way to Hogsmeade, the girls used the three Invisibility Cloaks to sneak into the Hog's Head behind the boys. Draco ignored the tavern patrons' rude questions about the raven he carried and paid the barman for the use of his Floo. In the small back room, he averted his gaze from the sight of goodbye kisses and set down the cage to hold Ginny tightly. "Enjoy your day out." He slid his mouth across hers, needing a kiss for good luck.

"Uh, Ginny--sister--the other girls have gone."

Perhaps he'd given six or seven kisses because he needed a lot of luck. Her lips tried to cling when he lifted his head. That made him smile, even though he was uncertain of how Mr. Weasley would react to his predicament. After she had Flooed to the Zabini office flat, Draco turned to Ron. He jerked his head toward the fireplace. "You first."

"All right. We'll floo to my dad's workshop, and I'll sneak into the house and get him."

Roberts asked with a puckish smile, "Are we avoiding your mother for some reason, Weasley?"

"You've never met her, have you Roberts? Believe me--we want to talk to my father alone first."

Roberts looked to Draco for confirmation. He nodded.

Weasley stepped onto the hearth, followed by Roberts and Potter.

Draco kept a firm grasp on the handle to the birdcage, while he took Floo powder and strode forward. Stepping out of the fireplace, he saw Mr. Weasley and his eldest son talking with Ron. Apparently, they had been in the cluttered workshop when the boys started arriving. They hurried over upon seeing him.

Bill nodded at the bird. "May I?" The pony-tailed Weasley used his wand to run some sort of test on the raven. Red sparks flashed. "This is definitely an Animagus, and as far as I know, an unregistered one. I need to take the raven to the Ord--Aurors for questioning. That okay with you, Malfoy?"

"Yes, of course, take it."

"I'll return in a few hours with the results."

Weasley watched his brother leave with a grimace on his face. "Never liked birds except owls. Always expect them to attack in flocks, trying to peck everything to death in a murderous frenzy."

Potter adjusted his glasses, smiling. "Is there something you fear more than spiders?"

"No! No there's not, but I don't like birds, okay?"

Draco said, "I don't either."

"I like birds." The group turned to gaze at Roberts, who grinned. "Chickens, pheasants, ducks...fried, baked, roasted..."

Arthur Weasley cleared his throat to gain their attention. He had an air of authority despite his casual attire.

Draco handed him the letter.

Mr. Weasley examined the seal carefully. Gingerly breaking the wax and opening the letter, the older wizard removed the parchment out of the stygian envelope. After scanning it silently, he read the message aloud.

It appears that the inferior company you keep has corrupted your pure-blood character. You have ignored my instructions and ill-treated my messenger. I am most displeased. Such insolence cannot be allowed to continue unchecked. If you do not remove the impediment to your future, it will be removed for you.

A heavy silence fell over the workshop.

Weasley asked bluntly, "Is that a threat?"

Draco looked from the son's stormy blue eyes to the father's calmly determined expression. He said, "Yes, that's definitely a threat."

-

-

A/N: This chapter, Goyle reminded me of the 'abominable snowman' in the old Bugs Bunny cartoons who wanted a bunny rabbit, saying, "I'll hug him, and squeeze him, and call him George." Also Buddy, from Elf, saying, "He's an angry elf." about the dwarf writer who subsequently beats him up. Yay for being able to use bits from anything you like in fanfiction, (including a line from Peter Pan and a reference to an old Hitchcock classic The Birds...LOL)