Title: Call Me Ginevra
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I don't own any characters except those you can't research on the lexicon and aren't mentioned in the books. The plot is my own. Any resemblances to other plots are pure coincidence. Think about it this way, great minds think alike.
Full Summary: The war has the Weasley's worried about poor little Ginny. After checking her resources McGonagall claims she has the best caretaker for Ginny. Too bad it turns out to be Narcissa Malfoy. While at Malfoy Manor Ginny faces growing up, a strict regiment and Draco on a day-to-day basis. Can Ginny and Draco brave the unknowns of friendship? Will the buds of relationship form? What will Harry do when he finds out that only Ginny holds the key to defeating Voldemort?
Pairings: Draco/Ginny (I guess this sort of answers the "buds of relationship" question in the summary, huh?)
Rating: Eventually M, but pace yourself. (I will give fare warning of the chapters which that rating applies.)
Chapter Note: berryfreezepop is amazing and found out that the song at the end of the dance seen is "Electric" by Tristan Prettyman. I'm trying to keep everyone as in character as possible because, well, where's the fun if they're not? But for the sake of ending this fic in a timely manner I warn that some scenes (alluding to the dance scene) are OOC. With that said… Don't kill the writer! It's the muses fault!
Chapter Three: Ignition
Ginny was stirring before the sun crept over the windowsill the next morning. She had lain awake in her warm covers, watching the sky change colors with each passing moment. This girl was not used to getting the recommended hours of sleep and the curfew enforcing that was throwing her off. As she saw the sun finally reach its rays across the grounds, she felt her stomach knot with excitement about her first day of studies.
Even though she was never vocal about it, Ginny had always loved her studies at Hogwarts. While there she had been called "Little Hermione" or "Hermione Jr." by her professors, although they did mention that she was more mannered about not blurting out an answer. Snape had loved her since she paid attention in class and she impressed him by getting almost perfect scores on her exams (although the memory of him now was almost too painful to bear). In most of her courses she was well informed and passed them with ease, a few more detail oriented topics eluded her, but she studied her best and was still an outstanding student.
With a smile as she rolled out of bed, she made her way to the bathroom and began her new routine. First: tend to oral hygiene, then shower, style her hair with a simple charm, throw on the clothes set out for her by the house elves, and then make any last touches she might need. The routine, similar, to the one she had at home, ensured that she was ready to begin the day easily within an hour, (having been used to fighting over one bathroom shared with at one point five other boys, this was an important lesson). It was seven forty five and breakfast wasn't until eight thirty.
Ginny could only sit at the edge of her bed and try to force an idea into her head of something to do in order to pass time. What would she do though? How did Narcissa expect her to prepare if it were to take two hours? She wasn't up for wandering the house, afraid she might get lost and embarrass herself or never be found again. She didn't want to just stay in her room for Ginny Weasley was restless and needed to be moving about at almost every moment of consciousness in order to stay pleasant to be around.
So the question again faced her, what would she do? There was one place, the garden, that she had found peace yesterday. The only deterrent was that she could risk another run in with Draco. Despite this, Ginny found that garden was in fact the best place for her to be and not be bored to death, and decided that should she run into Draco, she would take Narcissa's advice to heart and stand up to him for once.
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As she meandered up and down the cobblestone walkways she felt the pain of the strict fashion requirements of looking rich. She had been fine with the yellow sundress they had picked out (and even thought the thick waistband flattering). She didn't mind the calve-length black leggings beneath it. She also didn't mind the thought-to-be out of season white jacket. But she did feel that the black pumps were too formal and becoming a hazard to her health with each space between the stones.
Flinching as the balls of her feet pounded beneath the pressure of being the brunt of her full weight, she fell upon a stone bench and kicked her shoes across the walkway. "Good grief…" She trailed off, massaging her poor pulsing feet. If this is what it meant to be rich, she might want to reconsider if it was worth it. Now, granted, beauty is pain. She learned that when she first had to try on heels for her brother's wedding over the summer to Fleur (a most unpleasant experience, she nearly fell into the wedding cake). She had hoped that with that sort of incident behind her she might fair better today. Apparently she was fated the same.
"Having problems there Weasley?"
Ginny's skin crawled. Now she really was presented with the question of whether facing Draco today in order to be in the garden was worth it.
The memory of last night, of him forcing her to embarrass herself in front of Narcissa, her blood was boiling in her veins as she turned her head slightly to look over at him. She saw his tall frame, poised so self-assuredly with the sun behind him. Squinting in the light she exhaled, pulling together her best front. "Would you mind moving a little to the left?" She motioned slightly in that direction and, confused, he moved. "Thanks, now you're blocking the sun. Anyways, you were saying something?" She smiled, lifting her eyebrows slightly as if she truly wasn't aware of what he had said before.
Draco's confident smirk faltered momentarily before he crossed his arms in front of him. "I asked if you were having problems, you seemed to be struggling with your feet."
Ginny chuckled lightly, disregarding the obviously arrogant tone. "Well Draco, you know how it goes, beauty is pain. Every once in a while I indulge in letting the blood circulate through my feet." She reveled in the smile slipping away from Draco's cheeks. Apparently a chirpy attitude wasn't what he was expecting to arouse in Ginny.
"I wouldn't suspect you to struggle with that so often." He flippantly replied, shaking a strand of hair out of his face.
Ginny felt her insides burst into flames. As she quashed the desire to lunge and wrap her hands around his pathetic little neck, she began thinking of all the things she wished she could say to him. Instead, she answered, "Seeing as you're not familiar with much of anything having to do with beauty it doesn't surprise me that you don't know what to suspect."
Draco's smirked lit up across his pale face. His pointed nose cast a shadow across his lips making them look like an entrance to a black hole. "Oh, Weasley, a bit torn up about our little spat last night? I didn't mean to insult you so much."
"Please Draco, you didn't insult me." She laughed, brushing off his attempt to enrage her further. Although the fact that he seemed to remain unstirred by her comment about Dumbledore did concern her.
"Generally being attacked, rendered unconscious, and being unfed can cause a girl to be in quite a sour mood. I responded accordingly." Ginny slipped on her shoes, rose and looked at him eye to eye, the heels causing her to be his height. "Do excuse me; I've got matters I must attend to before breakfast. I'll see you there?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
Draco scowled. "Of course."
Ginny turned about and made her way down the pathway, her victory trumping the pain in her feet.
It was eight by the time she was back in her room. How Narcissa could possibly fill up two hours between waking and breakfast was beyond Ginny. But she was determined to not be caught baffled at what to do. Figuring it wouldn't hurt to get some more beauty sleep in; Ginny laid her head down against her pillow and closed her eyes for a power-nap.
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The clinking of chinaware and silverware was nearly deafening at breakfast. Ginny and Draco sat silently, picking away at their fruit and soufflés, Narcissa sensing the tension, cleared her throat gently and dabbed at her lips with one of the linen napkins. Ginny and Draco both stopped eating and watched her carefully. "There will be a ball." Narcissa stated and watched as Draco rolled his eyes and Ginny paled.
"It's not Halloween yet though, what could we possibly have a ball for?" Draco protested. Ginny raised an eyebrow, her stomach doing flip flops. If Draco hated balls then surely Ginny would find them a small step from hell.
Narcissa seemed shocked. "Why Draco, we have a new resident who has not been properly introduced. It would be poor manners not to have a get-together." Ginny could hardly see how "get-together" translated into "ball" and felt herself sink into the chair as Narcissa continued. "She'll have to meet all of the appropriate friends, begin to network, and make the first impression. If we take too long to do this she'll be out of gossip and have missed her chance to rise up in our society. You know that."
Ginny looked at Narcissa, her expression was of someone about to be sick. "The friends?"
Narcissa sipped at her tea. "Yes dear, the wives of all the influential men, the men, their daughters, sons, etcetera."
Ginny let her forehead fall into an open palm. "Now Ginny," Narcissa scolded. "That's not very ladylike. Sit up straight now." Ginny sat up, a look of utter desperation on her face. She could hear Draco snicker.
"I've had one ball in my entire life and that was the Yule Ball and I danced with Neville Longbottom and swayed from side to side, I hardly think I've the qualifications to be all flaunted like a Christmas chicken right now."
More snickering from Draco into his juice.
"That's alright dear, it took Draco years to get down a simple Waltz, poor thing has two left feet. Besides I expected just as much, Hogwarts is not exactly the top school in raising children for society. They fill your head with nonsensical babble that truly does you no good now-a-days. Draco will be your learning partner. In fact, immediately after you two are done eating we'll begin lessons."
Draco and Ginny fell silent. The rest of breakfast consisted of the two staring into their food.
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Draco and Ginny stood in the center of the enormous Malfoy ballroom. The echoes of Narcissa's heels against the wooden floor were the only sounds as she walked to the record player. Setting down a disc she lowered the needle. The crackling of age bit at the silence before the music began. After a moment, the slow melody of a string instrument followed by the song of a piano drifted across the empty hall.
"You'll begin with the basics and work your way up." Ginny nodded and looked to Draco. She would not have him be the reason she didn't know how to dance and therefore make a fool of herself at the ball. If anything, his being her tutor made Ginny all the more driven to do well.
As Draco inched closer to Ginny, the need to begin dancing becoming eminent, he felt the need to retch, but could tell that Ginny was close to ripping his head off anyways and decided against it. The two stood in the center of the room, letting the rhythm of the music wash over them. Well actually it more or less dripped down their ears since they both were more focused on how they refused to touch each other.
Slowly, Draco's hand rose up from his side and positioned itself on Ginny's lower back. In turn, she let her arm rise up and her hand fall atop his shoulder. Their eyes met and for a second they waited. With one step they closed the distance between them and began to rock with the beat.
With slow steps they moved about the area, Ginny's eyes occasionally drifting down to their feet, Draco clearing his throat to keep her from doing so. No words were spoken as the two quietly maneuvered through the dance movements until Ginny could follow them through without stopping.
It was around this time that Ginny was becoming aware that her body temperature was rising. Stopping for a moment, she removed the white coat she had been wearing. Her bare shoulders tingled with the cool air touching at the skin. Walking back to Draco she swore she felt his hand quickly brush her arm as it took its place once more on the small of her back. He softly pulled her in against him as another song started, clearly a song intended for couples.
By now the two hadn't noticed that Narcissa had taken her leave and let the two fend for themselves, but by now neither of them cared that much. The awkward tension had mounted to a height so indefinable that it was all they could do to not burst into different shades of burgundy.
This song was a recent melody, one that Ginny was familiar with through her Muggle ties. How the Malfoy's got this song was beyond her but she was in love with its sound. The slow plucking of acoustic guitar strings brought her to close her eyes for a moment, letting go of her defenses.
"Well these tears stain the wood like cups and condensation
I am bound to you I cannot break the situation
He's every subject of every song
Like the wind carries he moves me along
The shadows I can't run from they won't let me go
He's the ending of a story that I'll never know
Yeah he's electric
And I can't forget it
Yeah he's electric
And don't forget it"
Ginny slowly felt her reserves drop and her shoulders relax. This was one of her favorite Muggle songs and it allowed her to better cope with having to be close to Draco. She even sensed him relax his grip on her, which she didn't mind at all. Being able to feel her fingers was one of her favorite pastimes.
As she was slowly hypnotized by the song their bodies drifted together and without knowing it she began to hum along with the words.
"Well I know there's hope in them but I wanna walk away
Says it's bright in there in lighter shades of gray
And though it looks like rain I'm not gonna cry
Cause the seasons are changing in your heart
And so am I
I will fly
I will fly
I will fly
Electric
Oh yes seasons are changing
Seasons are changing
And I'm burning out
And I'm burning out
I'm electric…"
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Dancing lessons lasted until lunch and as if it were to save Ginny any undo embarrassment, Draco was requested to join Lucius during a lunch with some other people leaving just Ginny and Narcissa to lunch together. They were quite conversational, talking about how well dancing lessons had gone and how excited Narcissa was to see how Ginny had progressed (of course excitement for Narcissa was a tone of voice three steps above uninterested and completely proper grammar).
They discussed what kinds of things they might cover in their lessons during Ginny's stay at the Manor and Narcissa insisted that Ginny have her own plot in the garden upon hearing how Ginny loved to be out there.
After lunch they parted ways for a while, the studies not starting until two thirty. During this time Ginny wandered the library, familiarizing herself with which books could be found where. More specifically she found that the potions books were the entire third shelf on the right, the herbology was on the second shelf on the right, the side facing the third, the charms books were the fourth and fifth shelves on the left.
Politics and history had their own shelf against the wall in the back of the room and art, art history, literature and poetry lined the other walls where there weren't windows or doors. Mythology and fable books were the first shelf on the left and the last shelf on the left were what appeared to be the romance novels. During this time Ginny made mental notes of all the books she would like to read but before she could crack any of them open she heard a chime in the hall signaling that two o'clock had arrived.
Fearing that if she started a book she may not be able to set it back down, she grabbed a few that she was interested in reading and took them up to her room before waiting for a letter from one of the house elves instructing her on where the lessons would be had that day.
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It so happened that lessons were in the library that day and Narcissa began with a general tour of the library, something Ginny found no need for since she had given herself one earlier. After the rather brief trip about the room, Narcissa and Ginny settled down at a table and Narcissa began with setting a book Ginny had noticed in the politics session down on the table.
"Now Ginny," Narcissa began, setting one of her pale hands on the book, her fingers curled around its binding as she looked Ginny directly in the eyes. "I'm going to tell you something that I want you to remember for the rest of the time that I teach you. When I instruct you to read things I don't want you to just be able to regurgitate information back to me. I want you to understand the material. I perfectly comprehend that many of the ideas that are going to be introduced to you are of an adult mind and may be beyond you, though I highly doubt you will have trouble grasping them given time.
"More importantly, I want you to be able to formulate questions based on your readings. For instance," Narcissa turned the book so that the title was right side up facing Ginny. Against the black leather binding it read in italicized gold lettering 'The Prince by Machiavelli.' Ginny didn't recognize the name at all.
"This book, Ginny, is by a Muggle author from centuries ago. This is a very controversial book. In it he describes ways in which a prince must rule in order to maintain a healthy status, lifestyle, and order in his kingdom. This may all be well and good except his idea of a proper ruler can be considered a tyrant. I want you to read selections out of this book of your choosing. Each section is labeled according to what areas he feels he must comment upon. We will not discuss this book again until a week from now."
Ginny felt her fingers itch with anticipation. During her classes at Hogwarts, when the students were given reading assignments, she would usually tuck her book onto her lap beneath the table and begin reading ahead. It wasn't that she didn't feel the need to listen to the professor; it was just that most of the time they were lecturing on whatever it was she was reading. Now that Narcissa was staring at her, making sure Ginny was a part of the conversation and not just student number something in row two, seat twelve of the class, she couldn't very well just grab the book and begin.
"Now, I'm going to give you a project that I'm sure you will find a bit childish but I want you to do it anyway."
Ginny thought to herself, as long as it didn't involve pasta and a glue charm she should be fine with whatever Narcissa said.
"I want you to write a poem. In this poem I want you to address a few things. I want you to talk about your leaving home, you're living here, your experience at the Ministry and your feelings on what may happen during your stay at Malfoy Manor. Most of all I want you to include some sort of future self that you see rising from this time and I want you to convey whether you are pleased or not with that image. I want to assure you I am not trying to pry information out of you by making you write about your feelings. We are studying poetry, though not normally during this time, and generally the most potent muses for such writings are the incidents like those you have been exposed to in the past week."
Ginny nodded, trying to remember everything Narcissa wanted to see in the poem. Ginny had never been one to communicate her feelings to those around her. With the twins help, she had learned quickly that a few tears may just be the motivation for someone to cause more of them to fall with either more pranks or taunting. She had grown up never desiring to be vulnerable to anyone else, and it wasn't as if she was jumping at the opportunity to do it now.
But Ginny also never gave up.
The rest of the lesson went by in a blur of tips in debate skills, types of arguments, and how they could be used in society. For instance, using the Socratic method to prove to someone rather thickheaded that in fact your idea to paint the dining room in Tuscan burnt orange was in fact a better idea than gray (a personal example Narcissa used, apparently Lucius had a sick obsession with the color gray and a terrible hatred for all other colors outside of black).
They didn't touch on history that much, nor did they begin charms or potions, though Ginny was told to take care as next lesson would promise an entirely different curriculum.
At the end of their lesson Narcissa departed in a whirl of light blue cloak, and Ginny was left sitting with a number of texts before her, all of them reeking with the smell of pertinent information. If only she weren't exhausted.
She gathered up what things she could, a quill and some scroll she had brought with her, a few books she decided to take with her, including 'The Prince', and a small paperback focusing on Muggle Greek mythology. One story in particular had stood out to her, that of Cupid and Psyche. She read it over once before Narcissa had come in for the lessons, but wanted to read it again and again, and possibly some of the other myths as well.
Making her way up to her room she nearly tripped four times and properly twisted her right ankle having caught her foot in the rug that ran the length of the hallway.
Cursing, she pushed her way into her bedroom and threw the books onto her desk, kicking her shoe off and marveling in the swelling of her poor joint. Sitting down, massaging the muscle gently, she had the urge to venture back down to the garden once more before dinner. Feeling content that Draco wouldn't be found there, and more so that she could probably find the garden a more healing environment than the confines of her room, she slipped on some black flats, left her white jacket on the chair and departed, limping all the way.
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She managed the two flights of stairs from her wing to the landing that made the entryway to Malfoy Manor. She turned the corner and headed down the hall to her right, she found this was a quicker route than trying to make it through the entrance on the right side of the manor. It was a terrible maze to get to that door and she had discovered it her first time down.
She made her way through the hall and was about to turn into the ballroom, which had a much more convenient entrance into the garden, when a deep voice from behind her stopped her dead in her tracks. Turning she found a tall boy with high cheekbones, eyes as that shimmered a caramel and green color, and a smooth caramel color. She recognized him immediately.
She had first seen him sitting at the Slytherin tables with Draco and rarely ever saw him again until her fifth year when they were both part of the "slug club" together. She shook herself out of her memories and blinked. "I'm sorry I didn't catch what it was you said."
He laughed a deep chest laugh that made Ginny go red in the face. "You're limping, where were you planning on heading to with such a swollen ankle?" He nodded to her right foot.
She smiled and chuckled embarrassedly a moment before shrugging. "To the garden, I was hoping to get some fresh air before dinner."
"Well allow me." Ginny wasn't quite sure what was going on but she was hoisted into the air and carried across the ballroom and into the garden. He set her down at the fountain and sat beside her.
"Well," Ginny said, smoothing out her dress, blushing from ear to ear. "That certainly wasn't expected."
"Do you want me to carry you back so you can walk?" She could see the joke in his eyes and hear it in his voice.
Smiling she shook her head, her brilliant red curls shining in the sun as they bounced against her shoulders and back. "No thank you!" They both laughed a bit until a loud slam interrupted them.
"Zabini what in merlins name brought you out here?" Draco questioned, he stopped and his arms crossed over his chest as he saw the two sitting so close together. "Well, well, what've we got here."
"Don't be scandalous Draco." Blaise scoffed. "I was helping an injured lady to her destination; any gentleman would've done the same."
Draco visibly fumed beneath his black collar. "Whatever, flirt around with the Weasley whenever you want but our fathers want to talk with us inside."
Blaise turned to Ginny, who couldn't possibly be any redder, her freckles barely visible against her now crimson skin. "Well if it isn't Ginny Weasley?" Blaise stood to leave with Draco but stopped, pulling a coin from his pocket. Whispering something against the metal, Ginny saw it glow a moment before he took her hand and set it in her palm.
"Whenever you need to get up again, just call my name into this coin, I'll hear you, and I can carry you back up to your room… or wherever you like." With a smile and lifted eyebrows, he was gone with Draco back into the house.
She sat there on the fountain, the sun beginning to set behind her as she looked down at the coin in her hand. At first when he had found out who she was, Ginny was sure he had regretted being so friendly with her. Why would he want to flirt around with a Weasley anyways? Bad press. But this trick with the coin, Ginny didn't quite understand.
Furthermore on her thoughts was that Lucius was most obviously back home and she assumed, from the state of things, that Blaise and his father would be joining them for dinner. Her breathe catching in her chest, she forced a quick pace back upstairs to her room so she could have enough to properly freshen up for the company Malfoy manor was going to have that night. Or maybe it was just for Blaise, but she wouldn't say anything.