I won't even bother to apologize for taking so long to update. You guys must be used to it by now. So, for those of you who haven't given up yet, here's chapter 29! At least its a long chapter (23 pages!)

Disclaimer; I own a bird, six fish, all three Lord of TheRings DVDs, and69 differnt bottlesof nail polish. I don't, however, own Harry Potter.

"Jingle bells, Snape's hair smells, Flitwick laid an egg. Mcgonagall is off the wall and Trelawney is nuts."

"Amateurs." Fred scoffed, shaking his head, as Ron and Harry skipped, arms locked, up the stairs. "That didn't even rhyme."

"Yeah, well, it's a work in progress." Ginny said grinning.

Fred shook his head. "Oh, by the way, Gin, Mum said to give you these."

He handed her three pales and several rags.

"Ah, thanks." She took them hesitantly and turned, smiling nervously at Draco. "Well, then, come on, we'd better get your stuff up to your room."

He grabbed his trunk from where it had been left by the front door and followed her carefully up the stairs, trying to ignore their strained groans.

"Weasley." He said. "What exactly are those for?'

"Uh, nothing, nothing…"

Ginny's bedroom was on the third landing. The only other room on the floor was a small bathroom directly opposite her door. On either side of her room was a staircase. They took the one on the left.

"Here we are." She said smiling, throwing the door open.

"Merlin." He said, followed by several less than pleasant words.

"Its not that bad." She said, and he noticed she was blushing. "It just needs a bit of sprucing up."

The entire left side of the room was stacked with boxes which at some point had probably been packed up for storage, but had long since been torn open and ransacked. Their contents lay scattered across the room, everything from clothes to cauldrons to an unidentified green furry object poking out from under the beg. The mattress, old and yellow, was set on a rickety frame on the right side of the room, a small, wooden bed stand beside it. Everything was cast with nearly an inch of dust. The wooden floors were grimy and smeared with odd brown stains in several places.

"Not that bad?" He asked incredulously. "It's filthy."

And it was small. The room couldn't have been much bigger then his mother's closet.

"We never use this room. The ghoul used to hang out down here, it's a bit-" She bit her lip and struggled for the right word.

"Why'd he leave, too dirty for him?"

"No." She said firmly. It was bad enough that here, she definitely didn't need him pointing out how inadequate it was. And yes, it wasn't exactly neat, but unlike him, who she was quite sure wouldn't know a cleaning spell to save his life, they couldn't afford a maid. He was just so ungrateful! This was her house and here he was making her feel bad about it.

She huffed. This wasn't like her. She'd never questioned what she had before. She loved this house and the way she lived. And there was no way that Draco Malfoy of all people was suddenly going to make her start.

"You know, you really can be a pig sometimes." She said suddenly.

He looked mildly surprised. "Just trying to blend with my surroundings!"

"At least you have your own room, you could be staying with the twins."

"Right, because that would have gone over well. Your stupid brothers would-"

"Oh just shut up, Malfoy." She snapped. "I opened my house to you and all you can do is insult me and my family. Well, I-"

He laughed, but it wasn't a pleasant sound. "Opened your house to me? I wouldn't even be here if I had given you a choice. You just tell yourself whatever it is that makes you sleep at night, but you're not any better then me, and you know it."

She flushed. "I-"

Ginny broke off, looking down at the floor. She exhaled and stood silent for a moment.

"Here," She said quietly, offering him the rags, "Take these."

She disappeared through the door with the buckets. He stood, staring at his feet until she got back, the pales now full with water. Without a word she snatched one of the rags from his hands and knelt down on the floor and began to scrub.

"What are you doing, Weasley?"

"What does it look like?" She snapped.

"Why don't you just use your wand?"

"No magic outside of school, remember?"

"Oh."

She didn't say anything. He stood, watching for a moment as she pushed the rag fiercely across the floor. He waited until it became apparent that she was not going to give him any instructions, then slowly settled down on the floor beside her and dunked one of the other rags into the water.

They worked in silence for nearly an hour until they had cleaned the entire right side of the floor, and Ginny was still scrubbing with such ferocity that he was certain she'd bored holes into the floor.

There was just something about him that drove her wild. This was their first real fight in a long time and she couldn't even really figure out how it had happened. True, he'd been a royal twit, but she'd just learned to take that for granted, normally letting his comments slide. He really hadn't said anything that should have made her get as angry as she had. It was stupid to let him upset her. Half the time, she got the feeling he didn't even realize how patronizing he was being. She sighed, pausing her work a moment to relax her now stiff fingers, this time she was the one who was at fault.

He was in a new place, full of people he didn't like who, quite frankly, weren't wild about him either. She should have been trying to make him feel more comfortable and instead she had lost her temper.

You know better, she scolded herself, you know how he is.

She should say something.

"Uh, Malfoy…" She trailed off, not knowing exactly what to say. Somehow she guessed saying "Gee, sorry Malfoy, I just forgot you were a prick and just can't help yourself from being a complete and total prat," wasn't going to make life any easier.

He looked up at her crossly, waiting for her to continue. "Well?"

"I- never mind. Just- just stack those boxes over there would you?"

He wordlessly went to obey. Silently, she fumed. How was it possible with just that one word he had managed to be annoyed, superior, and indifferent all at once?

She walked over to the curtains. At some time they had probably been red, but the now hung brown and dank drowning out all outside light. They would have to be washed. Standing on her tiptoes she reached to take them down from their balance. As soon as she touched the thick fabric she heard a snarl and the material rippled under her touch.

"Ahh!" She called, pulling her hand back quickly. As she watched at least ten little lumps moved behind the curtain until twenty little black eyes peered at her from behind the drapery. "Doxies."

"You have doxies?" Draco asked, sounding somewhere between disgusted and incredulous.

"No one's even been in this room in ages." She said by way of explanation. She went downstairs and found the doxycide and antidote in the cupboard. When she returned Draco was still working but she noticed with a bit of twisted pleasure that he kept looking over his shoulder at the curtains anxiously. Obviously, he wasn't going to help her spray.

There were more of the furry creatures then she had originally thought, and they moved wickedly fast. She effectively stunned at least seven of them and the curtain was still rippling wildly to avoid her reach. She sprayed again, and her small black victim fell to the floor. She quickly bent to retrieve it. Just as her hand closed around the hairy body of the creature, a set of very sharp teeth closed on her hand.

She shrieked as she looked down at the doxy, which had been lying in wait at the bottom of the draperies. She pulled her hand away quickly, but the stubborn little thing clamped its teeth down further and hung on, flailing its limbs wildly.

"Ow, you stupid little bugger! Let go!" She waved her hand in the air, which proved to be a stupid thing to do as the doxy only bit harder to avoid being thrown across the room.

"Stop that, Weasley." Draco snapped, she stopped waving her arm and found him beside her. He grabbed hold of the creature with one hand and with the other he pulled the trigger of the spray bottle, drenching the thing in the noxious smelling doxycide.

"Here, just stay still." He said. Carefully, he pried the jaws of the doxy off her hand.

She bit her lip and held back tears. She'd been bitten by a doxy before but this one clearly had some sort of personal grudge against her. It had gotten hold of the soft skin between her thumb and index finger and the cut was bleeding profusely.

Draco gingerly wiped the blood away with a rag. When he had cleared it away, she could see two small punctures that pierced almost completely through the thin bit of skin. She winced when he uncorked the antidote and rubbed it over the sore.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked, pulling away a little.

"No." She said, trying to smile. "It just stings."

"Do you have any bandages?"

"Uh…" She couldn't quite remember if they did or not, if so they were probably downstairs in her bathroom. He followed her down the short flight of stairs. She jumped up and seated herself on the vanity by the sink, and began rummaging through the little cabinet mounted on the wall.

"Aha!" She said after a minute of searching. "Bandages!"

She tried to unroll a length from the spool, but she found it nearly impossible with one hand.

"Oh, just give it here." Draco snapped, grabbing the bandages from her. He carefully began to wrap her hand. She sat quietly impressed with how gentle his touch was. She studied his hands, his long, soft fingers occasionally brushing against her skin.

"You should know where your bandages are." He said, not looking up but continuing to stare intently at her hand as he worked. "If there was an emergency you should know."

Ginny grinned. "Aww…. is poor wittle Drakie afraid I might get hurt?"

He paused and looked up at her for a moment. Then continued working without a word. It was odd, to be seated like this with him. His touch was almost…. no brotherly wasn't the right word. Her brothers would have never taken such care over something as small as a doxy bite. But still, the tenderness with which he wrapped her small hand was surprising.

The longer he sat silently working the more she felt the guilt from their argument earlier mounting on her. "Draco…"

He tied off the bandage.

"Look…I just…I'm sorry…about earlier, I…" She paused, trying to formulate an acceptable apology. "I-Oww! What was that for?"

He had taken hold of her hand and was gripping it painfully.

"Pressure. I wanted to stop the bleeding." He said simply, but she could see a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"Fine. No apology for you." She said haughtily.

"Oh is that what you were trying to do?" He asked, smirking.

"Well, what did you expect, a bouquet of roses and a singing telegram?"

"No thanks. I haven't forgotten your last singing valentine."

"That was uncalled for. I was eleven for Merlin's sake!" She said.

"How did it go? Some thing about 'eyes as green as pickled toads'?"

"I'm never listening to Luna again." She murmured.

"Well, I'd say your first mistake was listening to Luna at all."

"If this is your attempt at being nice you're failing miserably."

"Actually," He said, "I believe you were the one who was apologizing. Let's get back to that shall we? Hmm…I could have you write 'Draco's a hot muffin' in all the girls loos."

She scoffed.

"Oh, you're right. That's already there."

"The boy's more likely." She said playfully.

"Well, I can't help being so devastatingly attractive."

"Well you don't exactly discourage the notion, the way you strut around."

"I," He said arrogantly, "do not strut."

"Oh please." She said laughing. "Your hips swing more than mine do."

He smirked.

"What?"

"Why exactly have you been watching my hips, Weasley?"

She blushed. That was most certainly not what she had meant. She opened her mouth to protest, but she found she couldn't think of a suitable response.

"Although," He said, grinning crookedly. "I don't know that I believe you. You do have a bit of sway, don't you?"

"I can't decide whether I should be flattered or disgusted."

He didn't say anything. Suddenly she blushed, realizing he still had her hand in his warm grasp.

"I- I am sorry- about before- I- I didn't really-"

He shrugged, looking up to meet her eyes. "Me too, Weasley."

They were so very close. Seated on the vanity, she was just barely taller than him. She for the first time noticed how very beautiful his eyes were. Grey, but suddenly not impassive, filled with an emotion she couldn't quite place. Her leg was lightly touching the side of his chest where it lay and she could feel his muscles contact as he breathed. He leaned almost imperceptivity closer and…

Too close! Too close!

She coughed uncomfortably and leaned away a little. He paused, seemingly unaware that he'd gotten so close to her. He stepped back quickly.

"We'd better get back to cleaning then."

He nodded.

"I, ah, need my hand back." She said, hoping he didn't notice her blush.

He dropped it quickly. "Right then, cleaning."

By eight o'clock the room was at least sanitary enough to stand in. The sheets and curtains (doxy-free) had been scourified several times through by Mrs. Weasley. They were red, which was almost enough to make him wish they were dirty again. According to Ginny the floor was clean enough to eat off of (which he hoped was not meant to be taken literally) and the boxes were neatly stacked out of the way. Ginny had left nearly twenty minutes before to get cleaned up for dinner. As he walked down the stairs, he paused at her door. He heard a knocking and thought for a moment it was Ginny, but then he realized the sound was much too distant. He heard a door open and Mrs. Weasley invite someone in. He heard the door creak again.

"Draco?"

He jumped. "Merlin. Don't do that."

Ginny laughed from behind him. "Come on, dinner time."

He followed her down the rest of the stairs. By the time they reached the kitchen it was filled with people. The table had been magically elongated to fit an apparently infinite number of people. Fred and George sat beside each other, each opposite to an identical, glaring, freckled face. Charlie, sitting backwards on his chair, was discussing something with Bill who was casually leaning against the wall. Percy sat stiffly between his mother and a skinny brunette Draco vaguely remembered from school. Mrs. Weasley was seated next to her husband, who was leaning across the table avidity gesturing with his fork about something to Lupin and a rather shaggy man with dark hair. Seated next to Mr. Weasley at the head of the table, looking strangely out of place and larger than life in the crowded room, was Dumbledore. He smiled when he saw Draco. Tonks was there too, holding Lupin's hand under the table. There was a slew of other redheaded children, including Ron who was whispering conspiratorially with Harry and Hermione. As Ginny approached the table, a chair appeared next to Harry, she sat and began to fill her plate. Hesitantly, Draco followed and just as it had for Ginny a chair sprang up from nowhere to accommodate him.

She was pleased at least that Dumbledore had acknowledged them. That meant someone had already told him about Draco. She sighed, that was one less time she'd have to tell someone she couldn't tell them anything.

"Who are all these people? I didn't know there could be this much red outside of the Gryffindor common room."

"That." She said pointing to the woman who had been talking to Molly when he first arrived. "Is my Aunt May, and the man next to her is my Uncle Dave. The one on the other side of Hermione is my cousin Ben and-"

"Do you really expect me to remember names, Weasley?"

"Of course not. I expect you to say 'Weasley' really loudly and hope the right one turns around."

He nodded. "Yeah, that was the general plan."

She grinned. "You're the one that asked."

"Temporary insanity."

"Temporary?"

"Ms. Weasley?" She looked up into the quiet blue eyes of the headmaster. He hadn't spoke loudly at all, and yet she could easily hear him from across the table above the clatter of everyone around them. "Could I perhaps bother you for a meeting after dinner?"

She nodded. "Yes, Professor."

"Perhaps Mr. Malfoy could be persuaded as well?" He said, looking at Draco who nodded in turn.

The headmaster smiled. "Wonderful, now if I could just trouble you to pass the yams. Wonderful food yams."

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore looked, if possible, even less stately to the backdrop of daisy pillows then Draco did. The color did make his eyes look absolutely lovely, but, fighting down a giggle, she decided that was probably a highly inappropriate thing to say.

"Your father has informed me of your- um, shall we say vague- reasoning. I don't suppose you could tell me…." He trailed off. Ginny was shaking her head vehemently. "No, I had supposed as much."

"I expect you understand the significance of what you're doing?" He asked, looking at her seriously over his half-moon glasses.

"Yes, headmaster."

He nodded. "I thought so."

He turned to address Draco. "Professor Snape says I should trust you." He stated simply, examining the blond for a long moment.

"I hope you understand that there will be things which you must keep secret."

Draco nodded. He couldn't for the life of him guess what could possibly be so important that Dumbledore himself felt the need to address it, but he got the felling that something very serious was being asked of him.

"Good. For now, you are free to go, but I fear I must inform you that several people are insistent upon you're immediate departure. I on the other hand, believe in the potential in each and every one of my students. If, however, you prove untrustworthy, there will be consequences. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded.

"And you Ms. Weasley? You realize that he is now your responsibility? Should anything happen, you will be equally to blame."

"Yes, headmaster."

He smiled, standing up. "Good. Now if you'll excuse me I have a rather pressing engagement with some of Molly's peach cobbler."

"Someday, Weasley, you'll have to explain to me what exactly I just agreed to."

She sighed. "Don't worry. You'll see soon enough."

There was a long pause.

"He's absolutely insane, you know. Barking mad."

She smiled. "It's part of his charm."

Draco had been staring at the bed for twenty long minutes and was still nowhere closer to convincing himself to crawl in them. He had personally watched as Mrs. Weasley had washed them three times, but he still could get the image of the damp, brown, sticky sheets out of his head.

There was a knock at the door, and Draco almost sighed in relief that there was at least something to take his mind off the creatures that were undoubtedly lurking under the covers waiting for him.
Ginny was standing at the door when he opened it, and without waiting for a response, she pushed past him and went directly to the bed.

"I always pictured you as the kind of girl who would need flowers and poetry, but the direct route works just as well." He said shrugging.

"Shove it." She said, but not unpleasantly, as she began to strip the sheets from the mattress.

"What are you doing Weasley?"

"Well, your not going to sleep in them are you?" She asked, eyeing him with amusement. Discarding the old ones, she tossed a ball of white cotton sheets at him. "It only took me about a minute to realize you were probably up here staring at them waiting for a swamp giant to jump out at you."

"I was not!"

She looked at him. "Just help me put those on."

He looked at the sheets in his hand doubtfully.

"Oh, come off it. Those are clean! I laundered them myself."

"Is that supposed to reassure me?"

She glared. "You're such a snob."

He grinned. "I prefer sophisticated, darling."

With only a little difficulty, she got the sheets onto the mattress, Draco of course, standing and watching the whole process without lifting a finger. When she finished she settled down on the bed.

"What are you doing?" He asked suspiciously.

"Hoping one of my brothers comes in, thinks you're seducing me, and attacks you. It would be extremely entertaining."

"You have a sick sense of humor, Weasley."

"So I've been told. Fold those." She said, looking around the room. Her eyes fell on the bed stand, where two pictures stood. They had not been there before. One was a picture of a tall, thin woman with blond hair. She was smiling and waving. With a start, Ginny recognized her as Draco's mother, the same woman they had seen at the World Cup. Then, with her upturned nose and dead eyes, Ginny had though her a very unattractive woman, now, however, she could see that was pretty; she would have been absolutely striking when she was younger. The image turned to smile at Draco, who was now- very carefully- attempting to fold the old sheets without actually having to touch them. Her eyes softened as the fell upon her son, and then she turned back to Ginny smiling conspiratorially.

The second frame held a picture of Blaise, who waved happily at her. His arm was around a very pretty girl with long black hair, who, even in the picture managed an air of absolute superiority. Blaise was trying valiantly to cure her of that, tugging on her hair and giving her bunny ears. The girl gave him a withering glare, and turned around. Blaise giggled behind his hand.

Ginny looked at the picture, trying to place where she knew the girl from. She didn't attend Hogwarts, Ginny was positive Blaise hadn't introduce them and she-

"Sylvia." She said suddenly.

"What?" Draco asked, looking up. He had just managed to fold the sheet in half using the tip of his loafer.

"This is Sylvia, the girl from the restaurant, isn't it?" She asked holding up the picture.

Draco nodded. "Yeah, she's Blaise's cousin."

Ginny looked at the picture again, now wondering how she couldn't have realized it before. The beautiful waitress from C'est La Vie was just as impassive in the picture as she was in real life, and Ginny couldn't figure out how she hadn't noticed the resemblance between Blaise and his cousin. They had the same black hair and identical noses. And her eyes- she remembered how striking her eyes had been; now she knew why. They were Blaise's eyes, not the exact same shade of blue, but close and the shape was indistinguishable. But no, she concluded, still staring at the two, that was only part of it. There was still something else that had bothered her about the girl.

"She didn't go to Hogwarts?"

"No." Draco answered. "Beauxbatons. She graduated two years ago. She owns that restaurant."

"She owns it?"

"Yes." Draco answered, looking surprised. "The Zabinis are almost as rich as the Malfoys. I've known her since before I was born."

She placed the picture back on the stand. Draco looked up at her, annoyed.

"Fine." She said, sliding off the bed and going to help him with the sheet.

As she folded it over the last time she looked up to find him smirking at her.

"What?" She asked.

"I knew if I just stood there long enough you'd do it. Ineptitude- life's greatest excuse."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Good thing you really are completely incompetent. You're not that great of an actor."

"Oh, very clever, Weasley."

"Thank you. That is one of my greatest attributes." She said with a mock bow.

"You know, Malfoy, we're not too bad at this getting along thing. We've been in the same room for a quarter of an hour and no one's in traction."

"I'd say that's commendable.

"Quite."

He laughed. "Do me a favor and tell that to your brothers."

"Oh, I'll be sure to tell them we get on just fine. In fact, I think I'll tell them just how close we're getting." She said, batting her eyelashes innocently.

"Well then," He said, moving closer and taking hold of her wrists. "You might as well have something to tell them."

Draco Malfoy never backed down from a challenge.

She faltered, and he held back a smirk as her breath caught.

"I-" A knock at the door stopped her and even before she knew what had happened, Draco had dropped her arms and stepped away, just before Ron's freckled face appeared at the door.

"Mum sent me up to see if the ferret had enough blankets. Is everything alright, Gin?" Ron asked, suspiciously, looking from Draco, to Ginny who was still fighting down a blush.

"Of course, Ron." She answered. "I was just brining Malfoy some clean sheets."

Ron glared.

"Isn't it a little past your bedtime, Weasel?" Draco asked, smirking.

"Come on, Ginny." Ron said, "Let's go."

Ginny hurried across the room to her brother, who put one arm protectively on her elbow, leading her to the door.

"Good night, Ginny," Draco called after her as the door closed.

"Ginny," Ron said when they were outside and safely out of earshot. "Listen, I know what you said earlier, but, are you sure you're okay? I mean he didn't do anything to you or something?"

Ginny smiled. She should have been mad, but she was, for the moment at least, too touched by her brother's concern.

"I promise, Ron. Everything's fine."

"You'll tell me though, right? Tell me if something happens?"

"Of course, Ron. Good night." She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Gin."

That took so long to write, you have no idea! Anyways, the first little hints of fluffiness will really start to pick up probably next chapter (collective groan) finally,I know. Anyway, for those of you who just can't wait that long, check out my other little500review thankyou ficlet, dedicated to all of you wonderful, wonderful people who reviewed this story and have been dieing since, like, chapter two for this story to finally get some romance in it.

Anyway, thanks again for taking time to review. It makes me happy and it annoys Draco, you just can't get much better than that! So go click that pretty little blue button in the left corner- yeah, right there- and say lots of nice things so I know that people are actually reading this.

Love'ya'll.