"Ginny, you paying attention?" Luna leaned across to Ginny, and asked her gently.
"Huh, oh… Not at all," she admitted airily. She had been thinking about Draco Malfoy. Staring out the window of the train, she watched the green countryside rolling by, without paying attention to any of it. Her mind was on the party from the night before.
She had secretly watched him all night. He lounged in his armchair in the corner, like a Roman emperor, feigning disinterest in the events around him. But Ginny could tell he was envious. He looked sidelong at people laughing and having fun, with a glare that was part disdain, and part longing. Draco was lost without his posse. It was hard to ridicule people when you had no squad behind you to snigger and rally behind your jibes. Not that Draco was throwing that many barbs anymore. He seemed delicate somehow. Upon reflection, that was completely justified.
Draco's family had been passive supporters of Voldemort because it was expected of them. They were an old and established Pureblood family, upper crust, posh, and arrogant. But their loyalty had been skin deep all along. The allure of power was tainted by the reality: Voldemort didn't share power. He kept it all for himself and exploited those below him. This had left the Malfoys in a very difficult situation, one that Draco had been born into. They were nominally loyal to the Dark Lord, but didn't actually want him to return after his first defeat.
This was apparent once he actually did return. Voldemort had commandeered their home, stolen their possessions, and terrorized their family. He had ridiculed and mocked them for their excesses, the thing that had previously set them apart from other wizarding families, including Ginny's. The Malfoys pride lay in their money, estate, and social standing, and siding with Voldemort had stripped it all from them. It was no wonder Draco was fragile. He had been raised to believe he was better than everyone, and then a genocidal madman had pushed his father around like he was a cowering child, stolen and derided everything he believed was valuable, and then degraded it, even as he stole it. 'He must hate Voldemort,' Ginny mused. She wondered if she would ever get to ask him about it.
She was on a pleasant train ride home now. Ginny was left alone to her daydreaming. Luna and Neville were sat demurely hand-in-hand in the train carriage with her. They had their heads together, whispering sweet nothings and planning holiday visits. Luna was showing Neville a copy of the Quibbler, now back in distribution, that he was pleasantly suffering through, when they arrived at King's Cross Station.
They collected their bags and said their farewells, each going in search of their own family. Ginny never had to look far for a Weasley head, and sure enough, Ron and George were waiting for her.
"Mum sent us so she could have dinner ready by the time we got there," said George cheerfully.
"Oof, thanks," said Ginny, as Ron took her trunk from her, putting it on a cart. "How are we getting home?"
"Floo," grimaced Ron. "Couldn't figure out how to do the sidelong apparition with you and the trunk with just one, and then we brought two of us and still couldn't work it out." He looked exhausted. The long hours with the Aurors were clearly wearing him down. Bags under his eyes and taught, pallid skin made him look like he'd been up all night.
"Erm, why don't you go ahead," said George. "You look terrible, mate. Apparate home, tell Mum we're coming. Gin and I can manage." He gave her a wink, and squeezed her shoulder, conveying an unspoken plan.
"Yeah, Ron," Ginny agreed. "We can do it alone." Ron looked relieved. He gave Ginny a brief, shuddering hug, and then walked hurriedly off to an apparition point at the end of the platform.
"What's wrong with him?" said Ginny, concerned.
"He was going to ask Hermione to marry him last night," said George gravely.
"But -" Ginny prompted.
"But he got called into work at the last minute. Just like always. They had a huge row instead. I'm not sure if he backed out, or yelled about it instead, but he's miserable. I think 'Mione may have called their relationship off again." George was lightly dragging his fingers over the shell of his scarred left ear, something he always did now when he was thinking, or nervous about his siblings.
"Hey, they'll sort it out," said Ginny, patting his arm. But she wasn't so sure. Ron and Hermione had a… tempestuous relationship. When it worked, they complemented each other beautifully. But when they were stressed, they had a tendency to take it out on the other. And right now, each was balancing a demanding job, and Hermione was also taking Hogwarts classes. It was no wonder they were butting heads again.
"Yeah, yeah…" said George. "Hey, I, uh, wanted to ask about last night." Ginny's expression hardened. "I'm sorry I sent Malfoy to mind you. I just… I'm so worried. Ever since…" he trailed off, but Ginny knew he was thinking about Fred. It made her heart ache.
"It was just a party," she said gently. "I'm fine. Nothing happened," she crossed her fingers behind her back. Not much had happened.
The trip back to the Burrow was complicated. George had to go first with the trunk, and then Ginny was supposed to follow. They could barely fit George and the trunk into the grate together, and they each regretted sending Ron home prematurely. "The stringbean could have fit in here with this, but not me!" moaned George.
Finally, they decided on a different method. They arranged the trunk first, then tossed in Floo powder calling out the name of the Weasley's ancestral home. Then George went second, hoping to land "without breaking my ankles!" Ginny waited three minutes for George to clear the grate before stepping into the fireplace herself and proceeding to the Burrow. All things considered, it worked relatively well, though George complained about landing splay legged on the trunk in front of their mother, bruising his tailbone and startling her into dropping a pan of roast potatoes.
The family dinner was small, just Ginny, Ron, George, and their parents. The conversation skirted around Hermione and Ron's work. Arthur and Molly asked Ginny about her school year, her exams, her friends. Ginny found she had a hard time focusing on any of it, and was almost glad when the meal was over and she could go to her room.
In the middle of the night, Ginny woke up suddenly. She lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling and dimly wondering why she wasn't still asleep. A sharp rapping on her window reminded her. She rolled out of bed and blearily opened the window. A magnificent eagle owl hopped in through the window, a letter in its clutches. Ginny took it, and offered her hand. The owl poked its beak under her fingers, and Ginny gently gave it a few strokes while opening the letter one handed.
"Work caught up with me. I'll stop by the shop later this week. ~D"
She scrawled a response back beneath his note, and gave it back to the owl. It hooted at her, righteously, and she looked around the room for something to feed it. "Hold on."
Padding down stairs, she passed by her parents' room, and heard them talking through the door. Hushed voices, but she could make out her name, and Harry's. 'What I wouldn't give for an Extendable Ear right now,' she thought, carefully stepping on the edges of the stairs, treading a route she knew would not creak and alert them to her presence. She prayed briefly that they were not planning some way to get them back together.
She found a few pieces of dried porridge and a small dish of water and brought them back to her room. The eagle owl pecked at the oats disdainfully, and then took a drink, preened itself, and took off into the night.
She woke in the morning to the sun streaming through a gap in her curtains, right into her face. It had been a few days since she had gotten word from Draco, but he had not come to visit her. Ginny was beginning to wonder if he had regretted their kiss, and she would never hear from him again. The thought made her angry. It was obvious to her that they had something, but if Draco didn't want to pursue that, she would just have to ignore it. She had been caught in a sulk for a while.
The past few days had been busy. She was working in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, helping with the mad holiday rush. It seemed like half of London wanted to pick up Skiving Snackboxes before the new term started. Or maybe it was to skip out on family dinners. Ginny was starting to want to do that.
Brothers would come home for a few hours at a time to hug her and tell her how they were doing, ask how she was doing, and then go rushing off to whatever they had just remembered they had to do. Ginny always felt like an afterthought to them. The only good visit so far had been Bill and Fleur with the babies. Teddy was visiting from Andromeda, and his fine hair was a shocking teal. "He takes after his mom," said Ginny with a sad smile. Teddy was walking, bumbling around and drooling on everything. Victoire liked to pull on Ginny's hair and babbled in nonsense that Ginny pretended to understand perfectly. Ginny was relieved that Harry did not accompany them.
She was happy to be working in the shop, happy to be close to George. He was one of her favorite brothers, and before things had gotten bad, she had worked here during the summers to get some extra pocket money. Now that she had some extra earnings again, she needed to do some last minute Christmas shopping on her lunch break today. After a stressful morning, telling off a few third-years trying to nick a love potion, and a fifth-year who kept trying to convince her he was 17 (in order to buy Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-Bangs), Ginny finally got thirty minutes to go do her shopping.
She ran through Amanuensis Quills, picking up a long macaw feather quill for Luna. Then into Obscurus Books for 'A Pocket Guide to Healing Herbs', for Neville. Then she dove through Rosa Lea Teabag for a box of Hermione's favorite blend. Then, her arms full of parcels, she careened out into the street, and straight into Draco Malfoy.
Ginny juggled her boxes a little before she looked up at Draco. "Oh hey, I was wondering when you'd be by," she said nonchalantly. Her stomach was fluttering with a hundred fairies. Draco's hands were thrust deep into the pockets of his woolen coat, a soft scarf carefully tucked around his neck.
Draco smirked a little. "It seems we keep bumping into each other," he teased her. Ginny raised her eyebrow at him, a smirk playing on her own lips.
"Here for business or for pleasure?" she asked, turning back toward the joke shop.
Draco cast a glance over his shoulder. "Both," he said. "I was hoping to find you and talk. But I don't have much time right now. I'm -"
Just then, a tall blonde woman exited Twilfitt and Tatting's and sailed to Draco's side. As she arrived, the woman gazed at her curiously, placing a hand on Draco's arm, almost protectively. Ginny recognized Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mother. Narcissa She felt the hair on the back of her neck rise, and the fairies in her stomach began a mad riverdance. She decided to take the initiative.
"Draco, you should introduce me."
Draco looked at her with something like shock, and then blinked quickly before saying, "Of course. Mother, this is Ginevra Weasley, George's sister." Narcissa looked at Ginny with the same penetrating grey eyes she had passed on to her son, although Ginny could not read them. She seemed to be judging Ginny by some scale, and Ginny became keenly aware of her Muggle jeans and minimal makeup.
"Yes, what hair," said Narcissa. "Unmistakable." She smiled warmly, and Ginny almost dropped her armload of presents. This was not the reaction she had been expecting. "Draco, you should help her with the boxes."
His face barely containing the look of bewilderment that Ginny felt, Draco took a few steps in and carefully scooped the gifts from Ginny's arms, meeting her eyes significantly as he did so. They seemed to say, 'Don't screw this up.' Ginny did her best to maintain a look of confident neutrality, but her heart was racing. She had instigated a conversation with the Malfoy matriarch, and hadn't gotten eviscerated yet. Apparently, the key was confidence.
The trio turned to walk back to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Narcissa angling herself to walk beside Ginny, cutting Draco out of the conversation and forcing him to walk behind them. Narcissa walked with a controlled grace, and Ginny was sure that if she placed a book on her head, it would not budge, even on the treacherous cobbled street of Diagon Alley.
"I'm so glad Draco sought your brother out as a business partner," said Narcissa smoothly. "He desperately needed to get out of the Manor, and any socialization…" she trailed off with a knowing look at Ginny. Ginny considered the statement's implications. Either Draco had cut himself off from other people, or all his old friends were dead… Or persona non grata. Draco had mentioned that he was cultivating a new image for the Malfoy family. It stood to reason that social ties were linked to this as well.
"It's been really good for George, too," she said, trying to sound as natural as possible. She imagined she was talking to a snobbier version of Hermione: this woman thought she was better than Ginny in every way, and Ginny could not let her gather a shred of evidence to support this theory. "He's been a bit distracted for the last six months, but I can tell these meetings with Draco have renewed his focus."
It was a bit of tactful half-truths. Her brother was a mess, more than distracted missing his twin. George had seemed better recently, but Ginny hadn't known why. But Ginny couldn't throw George under the Knight Bus to gain this woman's favor. She walked a razor's edge.
"Yes, well, from what I've gathered it hasn't all been work meetings," said Narcissa, throwing a teasing glance backwards at Draco. He looked as though he weren't paying attention, but Ginny saw the tips of his ears redden. He was clearly listening.
"We all lost friends," said Ginny, remembering the Christmas party from a few days before. It had been so much emptier than previous years. "Making some new ones is probably the best thing we could do." She looked at Draco's mother sidelong as they walked, gauging her reaction.
Narcissa chuckled a little, looking at her impeccable dragonhide boots and grimacing. "Isn't it peculiar, following a war like this. Everyone is trying to pull together a shred of what they had before." They had just reached the shop's front door. Narcissa stopped and turned to face Ginny, taking both her freckled hands in her gloved ones. The cool leather felt strange on Ginny's chilled fingers.
"I hope we can be friendly," said Narcissa, gazing deep into Ginny's eyes. She was only a little taller than Ginny, but her demeanor was so commanding, she might as well have been Hagrid-sized. Her grey eyes were like glass beads, cool and collected. Ginny could almost see the wall of courtesy, shielding Narcissa's true intentions. Ginny wondered what this woman's game was.
"I'd like that very much," she said, softening her face, and squeezing Narcissa's hands a little. She was terrified of Draco's mother, and hoped she'd never have to see her again. But she could not show her that weakness.
"Excellent. The shop should be closed on Christmas Day. Come around for an early tea, 2:30 in the afternoon," Narcissa said, a smug smile budding on her lips. As Ginny began to protest, she continued, "No, I simply couldn't have you refuse. It's no trouble at all, and I'd love to speak to you about your plans after school."
Ginny felt like the cobbles had fallen out from under her. Somehow she had walked right into Narcissa's trap. After days of fighting off her family's impertinent questions, she had somehow invited a stranger, and at that a potentially malicious stranger, to interrogate her. She was glad the flush in her cheeks was dulled by the cold.
Narcissa gently let go of Ginny's hands and went to Draco's side. "Draco, take her things inside. I want to look in Madame Malkin's for some gift for Mrs. Greengrass." Without another word, she went sailing off, her proud face alight with the conversational triumph she had just achieved. Ginny watched her, feeling a little helpless.
"Don't worry," said Draco, standing tall by her side, watching his mother go with a strange look on his face. "She does that to everyone. You actually did phenomenally well." She looked up at him sharply, and he roguishly winked down at her.
They walked into the shop together, to find the lines long and the shop assistants harried. Ginny put a hand to her face in exasperation, sighing, "Here, come with me." She led him to the back room where she kept her things, and gestured to a table where he could lay the parcels. "Thank you for carrying those, by the way."
"Mother's orders," quipped Draco. He stacked the parcels carefully and neatly, before glancing around. "How much longer do you have on your break?"
Ginny glanced at the clock on a shelf in the back of the room. "Another six minutes. Although that conversation with your mother felt like an eternity."
Draco let a small smile slip, then said, "That's my mother. She keeps you on your toes." He walked casually around the table towards her, pointing his wand over her shoulder, at the door. Ginny heard the deadbolt click shut. "And so do I," he said as he reached her.
They stood in the middle of the room, between the table and the shelves. Draco slowly raised his hand and brushed a loose lock of hair out of her face, the other reaching her waist. He coaxed the edge of her sweater up over her hip. His fingers were warm, and they skimmed the edge of her waistband, back and forth. His right hand settled on her neck, while the left continued to trail across her skin.
Ginny could feel her cheeks growing hot, her breath coming faster. She raised her eyes and looked at him. His grip on the back of her neck was firm, as his face came down to hers. She let her eyelids flutter shut.
Draco's lips touched hers softly, quickly retreating before coming back again and again. He feathered soft kisses on her lips, but wouldn't let her kiss him back. Ginny's hands had been resting gently on Draco's waist, but after a few unsuccessful attempts at snagging a kiss, she grabbed deep handfuls of the fabric of his shirt pulling him into her. She managed to catch one deep kiss before Draco straightened just out of reach.
"Oh, so feisty. You don't like playing that game, do you?" He bantered, stepping slowly backwards to rest on the shelves. Ginny, her hands still wrapped in his shirt, shuffled forwards with him. As he reached the ledge, she leaned her whole body weight against him.
"Not really," she said coyly. "I like this one." And she began to kiss him slowly, deeply, one hand firmly rubbing from shoulder blade, around to his ribs, and down his abs to his hip bone and back up. She ran the fingers of her other hand through Draco's carefully arranged hair, down and around to his jawline, toying with the sharp edges of his bone structure. She felt him getting hard in his trousers, and gently ground her hips against him.
After a few minutes, she pushed herself off the shelving, leaving him leaned there, one hand still in the air from where he had been playing with her hair. She gestured to the clock over his shoulder. "Have to get back to work," she said cheekily, taking a few jaunty steps backwards. Draco looked positively aghast.
"C'mon," she said walking forward, and tapping him on the nose gently, "It's all in good fun." She pulled her ponytail out to readjust her hair, and pulled her sweater back down.
"Are you going to come?" he asked bluntly.
"What?" she paused, turning back to him, her hands halfway through putting her hair back up.
"My mother invited you to tea, and she expects you to come. If you aren't going to come, you should say. It's just polite." Draco sounded insolent, like a little child.
Ginny finished her hair, and turned to Draco. "What has gotten into you. You're being awfully rude. Why should I come?"
"Because she invited you."
"I barely know her! People are invited to tea all the time, but they don't really mean it…" Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching one fist. Ginny could tell he was frustrated, but couldn't figure out why. Did he want her to flounder in front of his mother more?
"My mother doesn't do that. She wants to get to know you," Draco took another breath, and opened his eyes. "And I want to know why."
"Because I'm charming? Isn't that enough? And it's Christmas Day! I'm supposed to be with my family," snapped Ginny, looking up at him impertinently. "I don't see why I should come visit your terrifying family and their Manor instead."
"Because I want you to." Draco said it simply, looking right at her. Ginny froze with the honesty of it. Draco wanted her to meet his family? He wanted to share his home with her. This more than a fling for him. Did he really want to be friends too?
"Why?" she prodded.
"Oh, 'any socialization is good for me,'" Draco said with a smirk, investigating his nails. Ginny gently backhanded his arm.
"My company best of all," she goaded, tossing a look over her shoulder as she led them out of the backroom and into the front of the store. Draco raised his eyebrow at her, insinuating so much with just a small movement. It made Ginny shudder with anticipation.
A/N: Happy New Year!