Chapter Fifteen

"Are you going tonight?"

Draco looked up from his book at Blaise. "What?"

"I asked if you're coming to the party tonight."

'What party?"

"The one at Northanger Hall. Brant surely sent you an invitation."

Draco thought about it for a few seconds before he shrugged. "Yeah, I guess he did. I just forgot about it."

Blaise shook his head. "You need to get out more."

"I'm in the middle of a contest that I am losing horribly," Draco pointed out, returning to Jane Austen's Persuasion.

"It'll do you good. I also happen to know that our lovely ladies are coming tonight."

"Doesn't matter."

"Why not?"

"She's not into me," Draco admitted.

"What the hell makes you think that?" Blaise demanded.

"She's going after Herbert."

"Oh, you really haven't heard," Blaise drawled sarcastically.

"Heard what?"

"You mean you really haven't?"

"Heard what?"

"Darling Ginger publicly rebuked Herbert a little while back. Right in front of Hermione. Word is that he's not letting go and she's becoming very...vehement in her refusals. To the point that you want to see these refusals."

Draco lapsed into thought, a wicked smile growing on his face. "Well by god," he muttered. "Looks like I need to do some work."

888

"How'd it go?" Hermione asked after kissing Blaise.

"Hook line and sinker. The truth is awesome."

She laughed. "Yeah it is, babe."

"How'd it go with Ginny?"

"Not bad..."

888

Earlier...

Ginny grabbed the half empty plate and took it back to the kitchen. Hermione glanced up. "Is that it?"

"My section's empty," she replied as the bell over the door rang.

"I got it," Ginny said.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely," she said, grabbing a new towel and slipping it in her apron string. "Be right back."

Hermione gathered the dishes and began to run water. The noise drowned out anything from the dining room. When she finished, she turned off the water and could hear the voices out in the dining area.

"...are you out of your mind? I'm finished with you, Herbert."

"Look, you need to tell me what I did wrong."

"I most certainly do not."

"Ginny..."

"Shut the hell up and get out of my face."

"Ginny!"

"Go to hell."

(A/N: One more chapter! For those of you who don't know, I borrowed Northanger from Jane Austen.