Summary: The tragic death of their daughter has brought the Weasley family to do the unthinkable: bring Ginny back to life. Yet the risen Ginny is no longer the sweet girl they knew and loved. With the help of one Draco Malfoy, she lives the life she was condemned not to live since birth… and learns the ways of the darker side in the Wizarding community.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.


Contra Mundum
Prologue: The Resurrection
By: Lillian


“Let your children be as so many flowers, borrowed from God. If the flowers die or wither, thank God for a summer loan of them.”
-Samuel Rutherford



The dismal night sky paled in comparison to the luminescent moon that loomed over the congregated group below. They stood in the formation of a loose circle; the tall trees around them obscuring their location from prying eyes as they encircled a lying figure dressed in white.

It was a young girl, bordering the brink of womanhood. Her curly auburn locks intermingled with the fallen leaves on the moistened ground, dampening her backside. She was clothed in a simple cotton shift and wore not a single layer of makeup on her lightly freckled face, which remained a ghastly white, blending in with the bleached white of her thin dress.

Her chest remained unnaturally still, not invoking a single blessed breath, and her eyes did not move as normal eyes do when in a dreamlike state under its eyelids. Her lips, swollen as if by a passionate lover, were a deathly blue hue. Her thin fingers, which rested gently over her dormant heart, had a tinge of blue to them as well. She was Ginny Weasley, youngest out of the Weasley clan, yet the first to die among their horde.

“No parent should ever have to bury their child. It should be the other way around,” stated Molly Weasley to the silent brood in a calm, if shaky voice. “Not a word of this gets out to anyone, and I mean anyone.” She sent a warning glance to her pride and joy. Such a good boy he was, always following the rules… yet this was something that had to remain silent, or else. “Do you understand that, Percy dear? Not one word to the Ministry. Understood Arthur?” She turned to her husband, a grim frown on her aged face.

“Yes Molly, of course. I want her back too,” Arthur said softly to his wife. Percy nodded as well, watching through spectacled eyes at his fallen sister.

Taking a deep breath, Molly looked down at the forbidden tome in her hands and then began chanting the mystical words that would bring her daughter back to life. They all would die earlier than their intended date, but it was a sacrifice they all were willing to make in order for Ginny to have another chance in open her sparkling brown eyes and live once more.

And so began the creation of a beautiful soul forcibly brought back to life, causing unbalance in the heavens and changing the fate of a few and many. A young man stood just outside the circle, his grey eyes watching amongst the red haired crowd, rapt fascination growing ever so slowly as precious breaths passed between the young girl’s now tinged pink lips.

“It worked,” Molly whispered in disbelief. “Oh thank you! Thank you!” she cried out happily, dropping the precious tome onto the pile of leaves at her feet. The young man with them cursed and quickly picked up the book, grey eyes now smoldering as he glared at the exuberant woman.

“Be careful,” he hissed. “This book is worth more than your life.”

“Thank you! Thank you!” she continued to cry out, her hands covering her wet face. “Thank you Draco Malfoy! You brought my baby back to me. We are forever in your debt.”

Draco stared down at the worn cover of the book. It was the very same book used to secretly raise a few of his ancestors. Only those with a pure heart could be resurrected however, and although it was hard to believe, there were some kind-hearted people that had a place on the Malfoy family tree.

One of his enemies, Ron Weasley, grudgingly nodded his head in thanks. Draco sneered in response. Enemies the two of them would remain, no matter if he helped in the dark deed of reviving their precious Ginny.

The dark haired child lifted her upper body up, brown eyes despondent as she peered into the faces of her crying family members. It was the light haired Draco that held her attention longest before the girl’s mother launched towards her, smothering the girl in a warm bear hug.

“My girl, my baby girl,” Molly Weasley sobbed pitifully in joy. The rest of the group caved in, running towards their sibling and hugging her relentlessly.

Draco remained in his spot, glowering. They were all over the poor girl, overwhelming her with their crazed emotions.

The girl in question appeared afraid, her body stiff in her family’s arms. She found her voice suddenly, her lips parting and emitting one lone word. “Away,” she said ever so softly. “Away,” she said, louder this time. Her dull eyes were becoming fierce like they once were in life. “Get away from me!”

The family jumped away in shock, leaving the girl a wide gap between them.

“Ginny?” Arthur Weasley questioned. “Are you… alright?”

The girl began to cry. “Where am I?” she yelled. “Why am I here? I want to go back!”

Molly stepped closer to the girl and kneeled down until they both saw eye to eye. “Ginny love, what do you last remember?”

A choking sound escaped from Charlie Weasley’s mouth. He turned his face away from his family in shame. He was at fault for his sister’s death, even if no on else said they blamed him.

“Ginny, what is it that you last remember?” said one of Ginny’s brothers.

The girl named Ginny began to convulse. Ron Weasley stormed over to the blond boy and yanked a handful of the boy’s robe into his fist. “What did you do to her? What’s happening? Tell me Malfoy or I’ll—”

Draco pushed the raving Weasley away from him. “You should of thought of that before you all decided to resurrect her.” Sneer still in place, he disapparated away, leaving the Weasley family in utter turmoil.



Author’s Notes: This will be D/G… if I get enough feedback. Should I continue?

Summary: The tragic death of their daughter has brought the Weasley family to do the unthinkable: bring Ginny back to life. Yet the risen Ginny is no longer the sweet girl they knew and loved. With the help of one Draco Malfoy, she lives the life she was condemned not to live since birth… and learns the ways of the darker side in the Wizarding community.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.


Contra Mundum
Chapter One: The Drawbacks
By: Lillian


“Absence is one of the most useful ingredients of family life, and to dose it rightly is an art like any other…”
-Freya Stark



Wearing a grim grey dress with a dark purple sash around her waist, Narcissa Malfoy was the model perfection of a dark, cold gothic princess, an ice queen with an unnatural calmness about her. She sat, back straight, on a stiff cushioned chair, imported from her husband’s ancestral estate in France.

It was an old thing, an ancient thing that she detested upon the first sight of the wedding gift. Thus, she sat now, in the back of the manor, away from prying eyes, waiting in the dead of night for her prodigal son to return. She waited in the solemn darkness, with the trees rustling from her vantage point of the window.

She expected the back door to swing open any second now, expected to hear the squeaking noise from the hinges. The door was neglected and in rather poor shape. Not even the servants roamed this part of the manor. It was why her son had favored this wing of their home, for its epitome of privacy. And it was why she continued to sit and wait for the door to move and see her foolish son of sixteen appear through the threshold.

As for what she would do once she saw him, she would greet him with a hug and a kiss, as per usual to her greeting. It will be then that she’d stare into her boy’s guilty grey eyes, and perhaps not forgive him of his crime till tomorrow morn.

The grandfather clock from a distance chimed three times. Three o’clock, already. Where was her son? Worry crept up on her. He was a big boy, strong enough to protect himself. Yet worry flickered through her eyes nonetheless. Her only son was missing, stowing away with him a precious tome that Lucius would surely miss and rave about upon noticing its disappearance.

Chance had made her check the library late at night. The tome was usually beneath a glass encasement, lit up for all the guests to see and marvel. It was rare and valuable, its containments bordering on the dark arts, but it had been a gift from the British Minister of Magic oh so long ago. To find it missing made her nearly faint. Of course, she didn’t. She was still a Black after all, and Blacks did not faint despite the situation.

She took matters into her own hands; asking and threatening the house elves on who was the last person they saw enter the library. With mixed relief and anger by their replies, she headed off to scold her son.

She had opened his chamber doors, ready to scream at him for his foolish acts, but there was nothing to yell at but an empty room and no tome in sight. It was then that she grew livid.

She may act like a cold person to the public, but she showered her son with love and affection. It was the least she could do with Lucius force-feeding the boy his own morals and values. She herself couldn’t fully agree with her husband’s radical ideals, but it was the way of the Malfoys in which she and her son must follow. However, no love towards her son could stop her from punishing him for his actions.

Yet time had cooled her temper, and with time, she was left to contemplate her son’s foolhardy exploit. There had to be a logical reason why her son sneaked off at the dead of night with a priceless tome within his hands.

Speak of the devil. Draco was home.

“Bloody Weasel,” she heard her son say, a nickname for the youngest Weasley boy her son used frequently. He had yet to see her as he turned his back to her and shoved the door close. He ran his pale fingers through his very pale blond hair, his face agitated perhaps by their encounter. Enough with her wondering; it was time to make herself known.

“Draco,” she called out sharply, making her son jump, startled.

“Mother,” he said, surprised. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “I myself couldn’t possibly picture myself here at this late hour, waiting ever so patiently for her prodigal son to return home.”

His pale cheeks blushed. “I didn’t know you knew I was gone.”

“I know a lot that goes around in my household Draco. I know for a fact that you left late into the night like a thief, and like a thief, you carry around with you something forbidden.” Her eyes locked onto his. “Care to explain yourself?”

He looked truly afraid now. “Does Father know?” he whispered.

She sighed. It was only natural for the boy to fear his father more than her. Lucius was always hard on the boy. “That’s besides the point Draco, but no, I have yet to inform him of your deeds.”

He bowed his head down. “I truly am sorry Mother, but considering the circumstances, I just had to do it.”

Her interest intensified. “What impelled you to do what?”

He looked solemnly back at her. “I made an oath not to tell.”

Narcissa frowned at his response. “Come, let us return that,” she stared at the book in his hands, “and have a heart to heart in the library.”

“Mum, it was a Wizarding Oath. You know I can’t break it,” he argued.

It was a lost cause. Draco would tell her what he was up to, no matter if it took her till morning. Hopefully Lucius would stay asleep in ignorance until the sun rose again.


~~~


A week had passed. Life at the Weasley household had grown more somber compared to when the girl died. Dead. That was how the girl acted now; dead like a porcelain doll. Draco sat next to his mother on the meager Weasley couch, which had become a usual ritual since his mother had found out and decided to muddle in his affairs. “It would disgrace the Malfoy name if this gets out,” he recalled his mother saying as she rushed over to the container of floo powder. She had looked disgruntled that day, unlike her calm and collected self. At least his secret was safe with Mother. If Father had known…

The queen of the household entered the poor excuse of an entertaining room. “Ever so sorry.” Mrs. Weasley took a seat across from them and began to discuss the same drab thing from yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. He barely paid attention to what Mrs. Weasley had to say anymore. He had heard it often enough to have it memorized by heart.

The woman’s poor baby, who was better off living in heaven where innocents belonged, was all that the woman rambled about. Why did his mother continue to drag him here? He peered at his mother’s face. She was frowning. That wasn’t a good sign, even if his mother often frowned around lesser beings unlike themselves.

“She continues to stay in her room, not moving from her bed unless she has to use the bathroom. I don’t know what to do.”

Mrs. Weasley had found a companion in his mother, another woman she could share her troubles with concerning her half dead daughter.

“I suppose it is normal,” his mother replied in clipped tones, making sure to not sound too uneasy. “The girl was ripped away from heaven after all. Once she passed through those golden gates, she was met with the greatest bliss man could ever experience.”

Always the two of them would discuss Ginevra Molly Weasley, the girl he had helped rise from the dead. Was that a sin to do? He should go to heaven for alleviating this group of people’s pain, even if it brought a different kind of pain about their hearts.

Perhaps he’d end up in hell after all, where most of his relatives where burning in. He could almost picture himself thinking during his deathbed that he could buy his way into heaven. That would be a laugh.

“It’s settled then,” his mother said. Draco looked back at his mother, confused. “We’ll have the lovely Ginny Weasley in our care until your school term starts,” Mother explained. He looked incredulously at Molly Weasley. Surely Mrs. Weasley wouldn’t trust THEM to take care of her little baby girl?

Yet Mrs. Weasley sat there, a sad smile on her face. “Your mother has informed me about your extensive library. Perhaps you’ll be able to find… a cure to bring Ginny back to her old self. Until then, I think it’s best for Ginny to be in a different environment.”

Draco scowled. Didn’t the woman know there wasn’t a cure for that? The girl was as good as dead. If the youngest Weasley wanted to behave that way, then hell, let her.

“I feel like we’re suffocating her,” admitted Mrs. Weasley, dabbing at a stray tear with her kerchief.

“That’s because you bloody well are,” he grumbled. Mother sent him a stern look and shook her head.

“We’ll be going now Draco,” Mother said to him briskly as she got up from their seat. “Send the girl over to us around noon tomorrow. I still have to convince my husband about these arrangements.” Mrs. Weasley stared at Mother in shock, as if just realizing who it was the woman was married to. Draco sneered.

“You’ll need to make an excuse--” Mrs. Weasley began.

“I have one in mind,” Mother interrupted. “Do not fret Mrs. Weasley, I’ll take good care of your daughter. After all, we Malfoys have soiled our hands in this deed as well.” Draco stared down at his shoes as she said this.

“Malfoy Manor,” Mother said in a commanding voice into the fireplace.

He chanced a glance up the stairs before he walked into the fire, and was surprised to meet the eyes to Ginevra Weasley, the girl who refused to leave her room. He smirked at her all knowingly, and then stepped into the bursting green flames.

Mother was waiting for him by the fireplace. She had a distracted look about her eyes. “Help me think,” she said, letting Draco in on her troubles, “of a good excuse to give your father. He hates the Weasleys, as do I, but it’s necessary to get this girl back to normal. Society might look down upon us if word gets out…”

Draco shrugged in indifference. “Why not transfigure her to look like one of your relatives?”

“I can’t do that. Your father knows all of my relatives, including the half blood niece of mine,” she sniffed, "and he'll object any one of them setting foot here."

“Father’s bound to figure it out sooner or later with the Weasley girl here, acting like a zombie. Why does she have to be here anyways? My summer’s already ruined as it is. Now I’ll have to have the Weasley brat tagging along.”

Mother took a seat on the chaise longue. “Molly wants her daughter to be back to normal. We as socialites know how to act in front of visitors and the like.”

Draco was confused. What did that have to do with the Weaslette staying at Malfoy Manor?

Mother seemed to take notice of his confused expression. “Think Draco. Ginny Weasley will never be the same again, but with our help, we can make her act like her old self.”

“Mother,” he said exasperatedly. “You and I don’t know how she acts. Only her close friends and family members know the girl’s personality.”

She frowned. “You go to school with the girl, Draco. You must know something about the girl. Is she shy? Is she outgoing? We know she’s poor, so does she know her place in society? The Weasleys are a bunch of Muggle lovers, so she should be fond of Muggles.”

“But we hate Muggles. How are we supposed to teach her to love Muggles when we ourselves can’t stand to be near them?”

Mother simply shrugged. “We’ll overcome that obstacle when the time comes. For now, we’ll teach the girl the basics. Surely she knows the basics in manners. Maybe if we let her play an instrument, that might help her as well.”

“An instrument?” Draco was beginning to wonder about his Mother’s saneness.

“I see the way your face lights up when you play the piano, Draco. Doesn’t the music reach deep in your soul, comforting it? It eases it, just like how Ginny Weasley’s soul shall be healed.”

Draco blushed at his mother’s observations. “Mother, they’re Weasleys. They probably don’t have enough money to teach the girl how to play an instrument.”

“Yet Molly Weasley was a Prewett, if that means anything to you. If they couldn’t afford the girl basic piano lessons, Molly herself would have taught her.”

“Are you sure this will work Mother?”

His mother closed her eyes in exhaustion. “It all depends on how your father takes it. Having a Weasley over for two months isn’t his cup ‘a tea.”

Draco bit his bottom lip. "So there's no other choice then. We'll just have to tell him, just like that."

Mother began to laugh, a glass of brandy magically appearing in her hand before she took several unrefined gulps of the amber liquid. "All this sneaking around, and for what? Absolutely nothing." She rubbed her temple. "I'll take care of this Draco. Go to your rooms and stay there. I'll handle your father, somehow."

"Draco frowned. "Are you sure Mother? It's my fault and I should--"

"No Draco," his mother said gently. "I fear what Lucius might do to you once he knows. It's best if you stay out of harms way."

Draco nodded his head. "If you wish, Mother." He may not be a brave Gryffindor, but he still had loyalty to his family, especially to his mother. He was taking the easy way out, he knew, but if his mother was sure... "Good day, Mother, and good luck." He strode over to her and placed a light kiss against her cool cheek.

"Yes Draco, good day to you too. I'll have a house elf send you your dinner." With that said, Narcissa Malfoy went back to her brooding as Draco Malfoy exited the room.






Author’s Notes: Thanks for all the feedback/advice everyone! Big thanks to dragonfire onna on ff.net for plugging my stories on AI. You really didn’t have to do that. –hugs- As for the Buffy thing, I stopped watching that show once Angel left. –coff- Sad, I know. So if there are any similarities, its just coincidence. Please review! It keeps me motivated. ^_^

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned."
-William Congreve



Narcissa idly twirled a stray strand of her blonde hair, a habit she never enforced to break since childhood. She hated waiting, especially when the near future didn’t look all too bright. Lucius would be home soon, exhausted as it was from a hard day’s work. To trouble his mind even more would be a deathly mistake, but she had to face the consequences. Lucius had to know, even if she herself couldn’t fully comprehend the situation. Who knew what was going through her son’s head as he agreed to help the destitute Weasleys.

Ever since Draco was little, he found anything related to secret charms and forbidden curses to be fascinating. Raising the dead so happened to be one of his many curiosities, and unlike a true Malfoy, he had acted carelessly when raising the Weasley girl back from the dead. Then again, who even knew that the girl was dead to begin with?

At the last minute, house elves skittered forwards to hear out their mistress’s last orders before the master was to arrive. She shooed them all away, not needing anything done, nor wanting the irritation of hearing their voices for much longer. The vapid creatures seemed to notice this, and immediately set forth to punishing themselves. She watched amusedly as one particular house elf rammed its ugly head against the door. Silly creatures, house elves were.

“Don’t you dare make a dent,” she said icily. They stumbled over their own feet, rushing to leave her presence. Peace, at last… or not.

She heard the doors slam, and the distinct noise her husband’s cane made when slammed against the polished marble floors. She rushed over to the foyer to greet him, an odd thought flitting through her mind of her acting how those house elves behaved just before. Instead of them at her beck and call, she was at his.

“Lucius,” she greeted, slowing down her pace until she finally stood in front of him. She was met with his broad arms encircling her waist, giving her a full-hearted hug.

“My dear,” he said, just before planting a delicate kiss on her forehead.

They broke out of their embrace, Lucius making move to head over to his study, as was his custom once he arrived home. She immediately trailed after him.

“There’s something I need to discuss with you,” she began coolly, letting the words sink in. “I haven’t been quite honest with you lately.”

This caught his attention, but instead of a scowl she fully expected, he smirked. Malfoy’s after all didn’t smile; they smirked.

“We all have our secrets Narcissa. Heaven forbid if you ever knew of mine.” He continued walking, annoying her to no end.

She stomped her foot. There was no one but her husband to ridicule her childish behavior, but he would never do that. “Lucius Malfoy! You will look at me when I’m speaking to you. There’s something I need to tell you, and this farce cannot continue until you’re aware of it.”

Lucius sighed. “A farce, Narcissa? What are you blathering about?” He leaned onto his cane, grey eyes dancing amusedly as he watched her flustered form. Why did Lucius never take her seriously?

“Well, out with it then. There are things I need to attend to before dinner starts.”

She hesitated. “It concerns your son… and the Weasleys.” She forced her eyes to begin tearing. “Oh Lucius! Please don’t get too upset as I tell you this. Promise me you won’t harm Draco.” She flung herself into his arms, making sure to sniffle every so often. Hopefully, her loving husband wouldn’t see through her ploy.

She was in luck, for Lucius was overwhelmed to have an emotional female latched onto him, shocked that she would behave this way, even behind closed doors.

“I demand you desist Narcissa,” he ordered, although he patted her back comfortingly.

“Only if you promise,” she whispered gently into his ear. “Promise me, Lucius.”

He sighed in exasperation. “I promise, just stop your tears.”

Narcissa smiled brightly at his reply. All was good… so far at least.

* * *

Draco sat uneasily on the edge of his bed, a book propped on his lap, its pages worn and faded from old age and frequent use. The text had so far provided him with no pertinent information, much to his chagrin. “Stupid Weasley with her stupid personality,” he grumbled, turning the page quickly.

“What of my personality?” a quiet voice asked.

Draco let out a yelp and tumbled to the ground in surprise.

“I apologize for catching you unawares of my… visit.”

“Bloody hell! What are you doing here in my room?” Draco nearly screamed as he scrambled back up onto the bed. His pale face had gone red as he stared at the unwelcome guest, standing innocently enough by his fireplace. “And just how did you land in my room? The floo network connects to the great room, definitely not my room!”

“You talk too much,” Ginny Weasley said to him as she walked over to an empty chair and sat down.

“What are you doing?” he asked, confounded.

Ginny looked up from her task of unpacking her bag full of her personal belongings. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You’re littering my carpet with your garbage!”

“Am not,” Ginny replied defensively. “Mum instructed me to come here, and so now I’m here. You were there, were you not? You know the deal.”

Draco shook his head. “You’ll be staying in your own room, not mine, so kindly get out.”

“I like this room,” Ginny said. She walked over to his bed and sat down next to him. “Comfy.” She grabbed a pillow closer to her and rested her head against the silken Egyptian cotton. “I think I’ll stay here.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “What? You can’t stay here! This is my room.”

Ginny looked around her. “It’s big enough for the both of us, Malfoy. And your bed could sleep up to four people at least.”

“I don’t want four people sleeping on my bed! It’s my bed!”

Ginny closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “Too bad, because it’s mine now. Mine and mine alone… unless you want to share?”

By now, Draco was deeply angry and a tad bit scared of the youngest Weasley.

“Get your own bloody room to contaminate, Weasley,” he hissed angrily, shoving the girl off his now messy bed. He quickly attempted to smoothen out the sheets, causing the young girl to laugh.

“Are you a hidden neat freak, Draco Malfoy? I never would have pictured you the type,” Ginny said amusedly, propping her elbows against the carpeted ground as her hands cradled her chin.

Draco glared, not sure how to retaliate to the girl who just invaded his room. “Go back home Weasley. It seems your tongue found its way back into your mouth. Tell your Mother I cured you, and that she now owes the Malfoys two, let me repeat, two Wizarding debts.”

Ginny grinned. “Why would I ever want to go back there when I could be here?”

Draco’s eyes widened even more, if that were even possible. “What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you were keeping quiet in that room of yours on purpose.”

She shrugged. “They stole me away from my happy place.”

“If you’ve forgotten, I helped them do it.”

Ginny shook her head. “They dragged you into it.”

“But I offered,” he argued back.

“I’m not focusing my anger out on you, but on them. Something in me can’t seem to resolve the deep hate I have towards them. They did something that I can’t seem to remember….” Ginny scrunched up her nose, trying to figure out what exactly she was forgetting.

“I’m your worst enemy. You hate me too.”

Ginny began to laugh once again. “You, hate you? I don’t think I could ever hate something so cruelly beautiful.”

Draco’s face blanched of all color, leaving him a shade paler than his normal coloring. “I am not beautiful. I’m handsome. Beautiful is to be used towards girls, not boys.”

Ginny gave a little shrug. “Say what you may, but you are still beautiful.” A small sigh passed through her lips. “You looked like one of the angels when I first saw you.”

Draco frowned. “The first time I saw you, I made fun of you. Why would you think I looked like a heavenly being?”

Ginny bit her bottom lip. “No, I’m talking about that time in the forest. It seems so long ago, but it was only just a week before.”

The door banged open and Lucius, who was trailed behind Narcissa, stormed into Draco’s entertainment room, grey eyes searching out for his troublesome son.

“Remember your promise, Lucius,” Narcissa whispered to him, but Lucius pretended not to hear her.

“Boy, come here now!” Lucius stood still in his son’s entertainment room, waiting expectantly for one of the many doors in the adjoining rooms to open.

Meanwhile, in Draco’s bedroom, he was in a panic. “You have to hide yourself Weasley. If Father sees you here…” He jumped off the bed and grabbed Ginny’s slim arm, directing her towards his walk-in closet.

“What the--?” Ginny started to ask, but immediately Draco stifled her voice with his hand.

“Really now, can’t you shut up just once like you did before?” Draco asked exasperatedly as he shoved the tall girl inside his closet, closing the door as he entered as well.

“Malfoy, are you really hiding in the closet from your Father?” Ginny asked in disbelief.

Draco nodded tersely, his eyes gazing at the door nervously.

“Malfoy,” Ginny continued. “What are you, three? I can’t believe you’re hiding from your own father. Not so brave, are you Malfoy?”

“Shut up,” he hissed, glaring at the red head.

“He could just cast a tracking spell, you idiot,” Ginny continued to talk.

“I don’t need a tracking spell. My son’s too predictable when it comes to his hiding spots,” a cool voice answered. The door was now open, and there stood Lucius Malfoy, a grim look on his handsome features. “Out, now,” Lucius ordered, as he watched the two teenagers walk out of the closet.

Narcissa got up from where she was sitting. “Oh dear, he found you.”

Lucius chanced a glare at his wife. They were all against him, it seemed.

“We’re all going to have a long chat, a very long chat indeed.” Lucius said, settling himself on one of the high-backed chairs in the room.

“This seems like a family meeting, so I think I’ll just leave. If you’ll excuse me,” Ginny said as she made an attempt to run.

But it was no use as she clasped the doorknob, finally realizing that she was trapped inside the room.

“It seems you’re very much a part of this, Miss Weasley. I’d like to know a few things about you as well, such as how the Malfoys got involved into helping you.”

Draco sunk deeper into his own seat. Soon enough, the inquisition was to begin, and he wasn’t going to enjoy a single moment of it.

“Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow ripening fruit.”
-Aristotle




House elves rushed throughout the rooms of the Malfoy Manor in preparation for the upcoming ball. Many in attendance would stay overnight since the summer ball spanned two days. That left the small creatures to dust and place new sheets on all of the unused rooms. The excitement from the house elves seemed to have transferred the never-ending energy to Ginny herself, who at the moment, could barely keep still as a witch of small stature poked and prodded her with needles.

“Honestly child,” Narcissa chided. “If only you hold still. Then you may play out in the gardens with your dress robes completed and hung neatly in your closet. The seamstress couldn’t help but nod in agreement as she placed another needle on the smooth fabric, thus causing Ginny to emit another sound of pain.

“You moved again, Ginevra dear,” Narcissa sighed. “I must be at my quarters within half an hour for my hairstyling. Please remain still until this is finished with.”

“Done!” The seamstress called out happily as she inserted the last needle in its place. Gently she removed the gown off of her living manikin and grinned. “You’ll be the belle of the ball, I’m sure Miss Weasley.”

“Of course she will,” Narcissa replied curtly. “Please have that dress done before this afternoon. I’d like to have Ginevra fitted one last time before the guests arrive.” Then she turned to Ginny, who stood there waiting. “Ginevra, you may step down from the platform now.” Narcissa absentmindedly continued her discussion with the seamstress.

Ginny rubbed at her bare arms and her feet prickled when she stepped onto the cool stone floor. Despite it being summer, the early morning was bitterly cold for her tastes. She donned her silken pale blue robe that oddly reminded her of Draco’s silvery eyes. Normally breakfast would be starting around this time, but Narcissa had insisted on waking just before dawn for the expected ‘girly primping’ as Draco liked to call it.


She stared out at the window, looking at the bright morning sun. The dew from the many leaves of the gardens shone and sparkled before her. Winter snow was a beautiful sight, but the early mornings of summer were equally delightful.

“I’ll go and check on Draco,” Ginny said and Narcissa nodded her head.

“That lazy boy is probably still sleeping. See to it that he eats his breakfast, Ginevra.”

She nodded and dutifully set forth towards Draco’s suite.
When she arrived, Draco was already out of bed and tying his shoes. “Get out,” Draco barked out when he saw her standing there, but she ignored his wishes. Instead, she sat across from him on one of the many chairs decorated inside the large room. He sighed but didn’t say anything further. Once the last shoe was tied, he stood up and stretched from his chair. “What is it, Weasley?” he asked grumpily. Let it be known that Draco Malfoy was not a morning person.

“I’m bored,” she replied. She looked down at her bare feet, just now realizing she lacked shoes. She must have left them back in the fitting room. Draco must have noticed this too since he growled before rummaging through his bureau and tossing her a pair of socks.

“You’ll catch a cold if you walk barefoot around here,” he warned. “Go and put on shoes. I’m going to get something to eat.”

“I’ll come with you,” Ginny said as she hopped off her seat and trailed after him, socks still in her hand.

He sighed. He knew by now that there was no use arguing with the girl. She was just as stubborn as her brother. “At least put the socks on, Ginny. Mother will fret if she hears you’ve caught a cold.”

“Will you fret?” she asked curiously as she unceremoniously sat on the floor and put on the socks.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Malfoy men do not fret. We leave that to the women.”

Ginny pulled the black sock past her ankles. “Done,” she said. She held out her hand and Draco, while grumbling, took it and pulled her up to her feet.

“You’ve already eaten I presume?” he asked.

Ginny nodded. “It was yummy.”

Draco rolled his eyes again. “We’ll need to improve your vocabulary, Weasley. It’s still that of a common person.”

“What term would you prefer?” she asked as the two of them exited his quarters and strolled calmly down the hall.

“I don’t know, Ginny. Yummy just sounds so juvenile.”

“Scrumptious then?”

“Sounds something your own mother would say,” he said haughtily.

“Delicious, perhaps?”

Draco nodded. “That’ll do for now. If you really want to impress them, you’ll say something in French or Latin.”

“I don’t speak French or Latin, unless it’s a spell of course.”

Draco sighed. “We’ll add that to your studies then, shall we? Here we are!” Draco said as they reached the doors leading to the morning room.

“Why do we always eat our meals in different rooms?” Ginny asked as she watched Draco open the door for her. She stepped through the threshold and found her regular seat.

Draco sat near where the head of the table sat. A plate magically appeared before him full of his favorite breakfast foods. Pancakes, chocolate waffles with vanilla ice cream, bacon, and sausage. It was almost too much for him to eat, but he began nibbling on a piece of bacon anyway. He immediately took a gulp of orange juice before answering her.

“We always eat dinner in the formal dining hall. Afternoon meals will be in different rooms however. Summer and spring, we’ll eat in the red room and have the view of the rose garden. During the fall and winter, we eat lunch in the blue room, having the view of the usually frozen lake.”

“And breakfast?” she asked curiously.

“We’ll either be eating here in the morning room or the yellow room. It all depends on Mother, really. Once the other guests arrive however, all our meals will be eaten in the dining hall,” he answered her tersely.

Ginny nodded.

“Are your robes finished yet?” he asked, having nothing else to say to her.

She shook her head. “I have one more fitting, then my dress robes will be complete.”

“Mother says it’s quite something, that dress of yours.”

Ginny brown eyes sparkled in excitement. “Oh, it is! I’ve never seen nor wore a gown such as this one.”

Draco scoffed. “Of course not. You’ve been living with those blood traitors for so long.”

“Yes, I suppose so…” she trailed off.

Draco noticed this. “What is it?”

“Well, I was wondering…”

“About what?” Draco shoved the last bit of his waffle into his mouth, and then shoved the plate away from him.

“Since we both don’t have anywhere to be until four, would you like to do something?” she asked shyly.

He scowled. “I’m busy.” He got off his chair and Ginny followed him.

“With what?” Ginny asked, frowning.

“Quidditch, for your information. I need to practice until I can beat Potter.” He noticed her face whitening when he said that. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked dumbly, until he realized his error. “Oh Merlin! Forgive me, Ginevra. It was insensitive to mention something that brought you so much pain.”

“It killed me, you mean,” she replied stiffly. Her eyes zoned out, as if remembering the fateful day when she met her demise.

“Ginny?” he asked, his voice small.

“Yes?”

“Do you think you can tell me someday on what happened?”

“Yes,” she replied honestly, her eyes staring clearly into his. “But not now. The pain has yet to go away.”

Draco shook his head. “You know better than to think the pain will ever go away. It might dull, but never will it vanish.”

She laughed weakly. “Let’s practice dancing some more.”

“You tricked me,” he stated, but he reached out and held her small hand in his, leading her away to the empty ballroom that would soon hold hundreds of the Malfoy guests.

* * * *

“Narcissa?”

The blonde woman turned away from her vanity and stared questioningly at her husband. He stood at the entrance of the doorway, his back leaning against the white molding in an aloof manner. His long hair was neatly tied behind his back like always, and he already wore the dress robes she had hand selected for him to wear for tonight’s event. His velvet-covered hands clenched his cane nervously, or perhaps it was in anger? One can never tell by Lucius Malfoy’s face.

“What is it, Lucius?” she asked calmly as she sprayed perfume on her neck.

“We have a problem.”

Narcissa put the perfume bottle onto the table and beckoned her husband closer. Once he was by her side, she clasped his gloved hand and looked up into his eyes. “What may that problem be, Lucius?”

“He will be here later in the night, when only they remain.”

Narcissa knew who he and they were, of course. “Can’t you simply de-invite the Dark Lord, Lucius? You can tell him your dumb blonde wife forgot to place another setting on the table and to add one now would simply be a disaster for the table arrangements.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, Lucius! I do not want that thing in our house. There will be Ministry officials in attendance,” she hissed. “Not to mention that we have Ginevra Weasley amongst us.”

“No harm will come to the girl.”

“How can you be so reassured? She comes from the opposing side and if the Dark Lord found out…”

“He’d want her to join us.”

“I no longer wish to discuss such things, Lucius. The party is only a few hours away and my hair is still a mess.” Narcissa picked up a comb and began brushing out her wavy hair.

“You look lovely, Narcissa,” he said and placed a light kiss on her temple. “Our Lord will arrive a quarter past midnight. That will leave enough time for the Ministry officials to leave.”

“Yet isn’t Fudge staying the night?” she scoffed.

Lucius smirked. “How ironic then that the war’s two leaders will be at our home. Consider yourself lucky, Narcissa. No matter the ending of this war, we will come out unscathed.”

“All the while rooting for the Dark Lord to win, I’m sure,” Narcissa said. She dabbed on powder over her nose. “Leave me be, Lucius. You’re a distraction I can’t have at the moment.”

He laughed, his cane tapping against the stone floor as he walked confidently over to the door. “I will have fun wooing you during the ball, my beloved.”

“As you always do, Lucius dear. Be a good boy and check up on the children. I think I could hear the piano playing…”

Both parents stilled their conversation and listened. Faintly, they could hear the piano playing a familiar song to them both.

“He’s getting better,” Lucius remark. “Adieu, Narcissa.”

“Goodbye Lucius,” she replied.


* * * *

As fast as it had started, the music sadly came to an end. Ginny sat next to Draco, watching as his pale fingers lingered on the ivory keys. His eyes were closed, no music sheets in sight. He played from his heart, creating a sound reminiscent to her from music sang and played in heaven. Ginny faintly hummed the tune, hoping he’d continue to play that particular piece. His eyes opened and he smiled.

“That’s enough for one day, don’t you agree? You’ll have three hours to prepare if you leave now. I know how long you girls take to get ready,” he said.

Ginny sniffed. “All I have to do is put on the silly dress. That won’t take me three full hours.”

Draco stared at her disbelievingly. “You’re joking, right?”

She looked confused.

He began to laugh. “You better go if you know what’s good for you. There’s still the hair and makeup.”

“Hair and makeup?” she asked blandly.

“Then the jewelry and shoes have to be picked out,” Draco added amusedly.

“Jewelry?” she asked again, this time overwhelmed.

“Honestly Ginevra Weasley, all guests are treated like royalty, including you.”

She looked away, a blush tinting her pale cheeks. “I have no jewelry though,” she said softly to him.

“I didn’t expect a Weasley to have any,” he snorted. The flash of anger in her brown eyes made him think better of what he said. “I mean you weren’t prepared for a ball so I know most of your items are at home.

She nodded, accepting his reasoning. “Yes, they are at the Burrow.” She shivered, thinking about her old home.

“Do you miss it there?” he asked.

Ginny nibbled at her lower lip. “I honestly can’t tell you now. Every single day here is a new adventure. It’s like I’m on vacation!” she laughed.

The grandfather clock chimed three times. Both of them stared at one another.

“You better go,” Draco said simply as he slid off the piano seat. Ginny followed and took a few steps towards the door.

“Thank you Draco, for the company.”

He nodded. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said.

Ginny smiled and twirled in her spot, her robes billowing out around her. “Till tonight,” she said happily. She began an odd sort of dance until she disappeared out the door.

Draco shook his head, a small smile forming upon his lips. He cast one last glance towards Ginny’s direction before he himself exited the ballroom.


Author’s Notes: Thank you so much for the encouraging reviews. I’m quite sorry it has taken so long for me to finish this chapter. >.>;; Anyways, thank you to Dark Fairy for beta reading this chapter. *huggles* Please review! It really does keep me motivated. :D