"You'll never guess who just applied for Pureblood Amnesty and Registration," Draco said with a smooth grin. He slid the file under the fat, pink-nail-painted fingers of Dolores Umbridge.

"Who is it, Draco?" she asked, as her plump fists wrapped around the bundle of forms. She looked up at him with wide, hungry eyes and a sugar-syrup smile.

"Ginerva Weasley."

"A Weasley?" she scrunched up her nose as she said the name and then squealed with devilish glee. "How wonderful! Is she really here now?"

"Yes, in the corner holding room."

"Splendid! I'll signal the Guard!" She hastily pulled a tiny, handbell out of her desk drawer.

"Wait, my dear Dolores," Draco said calmly, arching his brows in concern. "Perhaps we should think about this a moment."

Umbridge's eyes wafted from side to side in thought. It made her look like a pale toad watching some invisible fly. She seemed at a loss.

"What do you think we should do, Draco?" she asked.

"Well," Draco started as if he was very apprehensive, "I think it would give a good deal of credit to our Reformation Program if we were to bring such a prominent member of the rebellion through as a newly-formed, proper member of society."

Umbridge nodded slowly as a grin spread over her face.

"I think," Draco continued, "that we should put her in the Reformation Houses and have her go through a rigorous course of Legilimency. Also," Draco paused to make sure the next words came out right. This next suggestion was critical to the plan, "I would like to personally observe her for any suspicious activity and to ensure that she stays one hundred percent in line."

Umbridge looked a little too concerned. Draco felt she was obviously uncertain of the situation and didn't want any kind of repercussions on herself if the plan was to go awry. Draco was prepared for this. He leaned forward and gripped Umbridge's shoulder firmly, looking directly into her watery eyes with his own calm, cool, grey ones.

"Dolores," he whispered her name. "Can't you imagine how many more witches and wizards would place their faith in us when they see the good we are doing for this poor misguided witch?" he asked. "When she sees the truth, don't you think others like her will follow? She will be a guiding light for those to resist us to reconcile!"

"You think it will work?" Umbridge asked.

"We won't tell anyone about it until it does," Draco answered. "That way, if things go wrong..." He intentionally let his voice trail off. Umbridge nodded.

"Yes, yeees," she mumbled as she stamped Weasley's forms with a large golden seal, which read TO BE REFORMED. "Yes, we better keep it hush-hush."

Draco took the forms back from her and gave her a slight bow and cool smirk, "You won't regret it, Dolores!"

* * *

It was a few days later that Draco had arranged to meet with Ginny in her housing. He brought with him a few books, his wand, and his Ministry of Magic identification pin. He wasn't wearing his uniform since it was considered an "off the record" project. It was quite relieving to be back in his own robes perfectly tailored robes made of emerald-green crushed velvet. They did so much more for his appearance than those cheap navy Ministry robes.

Like the Ministry Headquarters, the Reformation Houses were underground. The entrance was a small, perfectly square, white building. It had no windows and only one door with a mail slot and no doorknob. Malfoy took his wand out of his pocket and dropped it through the mail slot. A few moments later, the door swung inwards and Draco stepped inside.

On the other side of the door, on the far side of the room, sat a tall, stern looking wizard. He was putting Draco's wand on a red silk pillow behind a glass counter. He cleared his throat and spoke in a gruff voice,

"The subject you are visiting is still in Stage One and is therefore not allowed to use magic until we are more certain of her intentions. For your own safety, we will be keeping your wand." The man handed Draco a slip of paper. "This is where your subject is staying. Please use the dial beside the door." After finishing his little spiel, the man picked up a copy of Celestina Warbeck: Pouring Out the Cauldron from behind the counter and began reading.

Draco looked down and the paper the man had given him. It read,

SUBJECT 721 HOUSE: 56-B

He then turned back to the door he had just come through, as it was the only door in the room. A small golden dial—much like one on a radio—was on the wall to the left of the door. IT was set at 0-A. He spun it several full turns, each time the numbers getting higher, until he reached 56-B. He then reopened the door. It was pitch black, but he quickly stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Immediately, the floor beneath him began plummet downwards. He was falling at such an alarming rate, that the soles of his feet lifted off the ground. When he finally stopped (rather harshly) he found himself looking at what appeared to be a charming little house in the confines of a cave. A soft glow came off the porch light and made visible the inviting front door and cheery windows. 56-B was engraved in a bronzed plaque above the doorbell. Draco walked up the steps of the porch and tenatively knocked. Ginny immediately answered. He assumed she had been waiting.

"I have assured our privacy. No one is allowed to watch us or listen to our conversations in any manner. They think, of course, it is for security purposes." Draco informed her.

Ginny took a step back, and allowed Draco to slip through the door. Inside was much brighter. The windows had been enchanted so that it appeared that her house was located in the sunny countryside rather than underground. She closed the door behind them and turned to face Draco. She was wearing thread bare cream colored robes with the number 721 stitched above a chest pocket. She looked as though she hadn't slept in days.

"You look awful!" he exclaimed.

"Gee, thanks, Malfoy," she mumbled as led him through the entryway into the den.

She sat her self on the far edge of a periwinkle colored sofa and he sat on a matching overstuffed chair near her.

"You can relax; no reason for Occlumency now." Draco watched as Ginny's face became less creased and her eyes softened. They met Draco's with a sense of exhaustion. He was a little concerned she might just collapse into sleep. "They don't expect anything," he told her. "Your records read you as a true convert. It will only be a few more days until you are promoted to Stage Two. Then, you'll have less Legilimency appointments. Of course, in order for the promotion, you will have to go through another Veritaserum questioning, but you've done well on those as well."

He smiled a little, expecting a little nudge of confidence might aid the plan to go on more smoothly. To his surprise, rather than smiling back, she almost scoffed. He put away his smile instantly, and returned to a formal demeanor.

"Well," he continued, "you will also get your wand back at Stage Two...so, that's good." There was a bit of an awkward pause. Draco had hoped that going over the current situation would have taken longer. He had to stay here for a certain amount of time to make his visit appear legitimate. After he was pretty certain she had nothing to say on the information he had given her, he reached for the stack of books. "Here, it would look good for you to read these."

He handed her the small stack. She took it and spread them out on the coffee table, reviewing the titles. They included, The Muggle Nuisance, Our Search for Purity, and Mudbloods: The Damage of Interblood Marriages. Ginny's face became a shade of red that clashed oddly with her orange hair. He could see tears well up in her eyes; though, she seemed deathly intent on not letting any spill out.

"You don't have to read them," Draco spat out. "If you just have them sitting around I'm sure—"

"Whatever," Ginny growled under her breath.

"Look here," he pushed one of the books to the side to reveal a glossy magazine with a graceful witch whizzing about on a broom, "I also brought you this. It's the Quidditch Quarterly."

Ginny picked it up and fluttered through the pages. Draco continued with a bit more confidence. "You know, the Ministry has been putting a lot of effort into professional quidditch. It keeps the masses entertained and distracted. You should try to get involved." He paused for a bit, waiting for a morally outraged bomb to drop. Ginny said nothing. He cleared his throat. "Because, I remember you being a pretty good seeker and I think it would mean a lot to the Ministry if they could put you up on a pedestal like that."

"Thanks," she mumbled, briefly meeting his eyes. It was a sincere thanks this time. He felt relieved. However, the rest of the visit could be described as generally hostile. Ginny made Draco some tea. Draco followed it up with the ever-so-elegant gag and the question,

"Don't do this without magic often, do you, Weasley?"

After that, it was like they had picked off a scab. The old hatred and rivalry was stirred up again and neither could open their mouths without making a vicious jab at the other.

After a painful two hours of immense efforts not to verbally insult each other—which wasn't too effective—Draco stood up to take his leave.

"I have a meeting this week with your brother and Granger, er, your sister-in-law. Is there anything you want them to know."

"Not anything that could remotely be delivered through you."

Draco sighed and walked to the door. Ginny saw him out silently, scowling the whole way.

"Oh," Draco added, "you should resume your Occlumency as soon as I leave. I'll be back next week."

"Can't wait," she said as she swung the door to shut. He caught it with his hand.

"Good luck, Ginny." Draco said. She pushed the door firmly shut. He stepped back and shook his head, wishing that had gone better. At least the mission seemed on track. He turned back into the darkness and zoomed off to the surface.