Chapter 1: Of Post-Breakup Stages, Hard-Wired Purebloods, and Annoying Freckles

Ginny glared at Harry as he gave her that superior look. “I don’t see why I have to go. Can’t you send someone else? Someone who doesn’t know Draco Malfoy?”

“I don’t know why you’re so afraid to go. After all, he might choose you, and then you’ll have the husband you always wanted.”

Ginny and Harry were long past the awkward post-breakup stage, and far into the “I can’t believe you’re my boss and I hate that” stage. Well, that was Ginny’s, anyway. As for Harry, it was more along the lines of: “I can’t believe you broke up with me and now I’m going to punish you with my new-found power” stage.

Yes, Ginny had broken up with Harry because he wanted things from her that she didn’t want to give. In the end, she had realised he just wanted a housewife to wait for him to come home at 5.30, and she couldn’t fit that role. He became controlling–much to her displeasure. She wanted and needed to be her own person, not just one of Harry’s many accomplishments. In the end, she knew that the Harry she had been dating all those years was just a dream–just her first crush. She was dating the name, not the person. He might have been her first love, but not her lasting love. After all, he had changed since the Final Battle, gotten slightly more arrogant, and they definitely didn’t care for each other any more. All feelings were long past.

Harry being her immediate superior was not helping things. Now he was still controlling, but had every right to be. They argued all the time. Ginny was half-tempted to quit, but being an Auror had been her dream for years.

“Fudge off, Harry. Why are you being such a jerk today?”

“Don’t you know?”

She rolled her eyes. It was probably some anniversary they had, that she didn’t remember–

“It’s been two years today since we broke up–”

Yes, she was right. “Since I broke up with you,” Ginny clarified, her eyes flashing.

“That was entirely inappropriate.”

Ginny walked out the door.

“Stop! I order you to stop!” he yelled as she was about close the door. With a look of fury, she slammed it shut with all the force she could muster.

---

“Are you going to be civil today? I should have fired you for your behaviour yesterday.”

“Harry, why don’t we just agree to not talk about our personal history anymore,” Ginny sighed, tired of arguing.

“Fine,” he agreed, but didn’t look too happy about it. He seemed to get a perverse enjoyment of holding their past over her head at opportune moments.

“So what about this ball Malfoy’s having?”

He handed her an invitation. “This will get you in there easily. Hermione has agreed to Transfigure your appearance. We think it would be best if you took on the last name of Greengrass–”

“I’m pretty sure Daphne and Astoria would know I’m not related to them. They aren’t that thick.”

“They’re on holiday,” he sighed as if Ginny should know their whereabouts.

“Other people will know they don’t have another sister,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes again.

“Pretend to be a cousin. Trust me, it will work.”

“So I pretend to be a cousin, and all the purebloods feel so stupid about not knowing they had a cousin, none of them mention it, because none of them want to be thought of as ignorant of pureblood families?” Ginny asked in one breath.

“Exactly… But that actually wasn’t my idea. Would you believe Ron thought of that one?” He laughed.

“The only logic Ron has is the twisted kind… So what happens if I find Zabini.”

“Apparate immediately back here, where a few people will be waiting for you just in case. You’ll all Apparate back and take him. Of course, if you don’t find him I suppose you’re more than welcome to find a partner and just have a wonderful time. Maybe Hermione will make you a blonde. You are dismissed.” Harry’s voice was dry, emotionless. Sometimes Ginny couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t completely over her.

Not that it mattered. She couldn’t stand him.

---

Draco smirked as he looked at himself in the mirror. He was dressed even more impeccably than usual, with black dress robes made of the finest material. He was dressed for a ball of all things.

Bloody ball, he thought, exasperated still about the prospect. His family forced him into this ridiculous thing, because apparently he was getting too old to not be married and carrying on the Malfoy line–even though he was only twenty-two. As if he wanted some snivelling brats running around the manor anyway. The thought of a wife did not appeal to him, especially one found at one of these parties.

He’d been to events like this. All the women looked and acted exactly the same. It was mildly terrifying, actually. You’d think all their brains were connected somehow, like in one of those futuristic novels.

Any and all purebloods (excluding blood traitors, of course) were invited. He hadn’t even been able to get Pansy off the guest list. He absolutely loathed her, especially since everyone expected them to be married with about a hundred kids by the time they were eighteen. It had taken him ages to convince his parents otherwise.

Even though the war was over and the Dark Lord had died, the old prejudices still remained–for all that they put up the facade in front of Potter of loving Muggle-borns. Maybe there weren’t killing sprees anymore–except by a few, like Blaise–but the fact still remained that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy would rather see Draco with an idiot like Pansy than with a perfectly decent girl who might happen to have blood that couldn’t quite be considered as pure as others.

Not that Draco wanted a blood traitor or something like that. He shuddered at the thought.

After taking one last loathing look at his appearance, he drifted downstairs to the awaiting party.

---

“Oh, yeah, Hermione, I’m sure they would really believe that I have black hair. Have you seen my freckles? You don’t get those with black hair.”

Hermione stared at her companion’s now-frustrated face. “Well, I’m sorry you decided you had to take the Auror assignment that would take you traipsing to Draco Malfoy’s ball to look for Blaise Zabini.”

“That’s the only place we think he’ll be, Hermione. And I’m not exactly jumping for joy to see the ferret.”

“Well, now I have to do all this human Transfiguration to make sure you don’t look like a Weasley. You know you’re going to have to dance with him, since apparently it’s the Malfoy family tradition to dance with all the eligible unmarried women at their stupid parties when they force their kids to choose a partner.”

“When did you get so knowledgeable about their traditions, anyway?” Ginny asked, turning her face and looking in the mirror. “Can’t you get rid of these stupid freckles, Hermione?”

“I’ve been searching around, asking people. You know that his father choose Narcissa at one of these things.”

“Hm…” she said, not really listening. “I thought you were so amazing at Transfiguration. Why are they still here? Then I could have dark hair.”

Sighing, Hermione finally consented. “Ginny, I don’t know how long these spells will last. Probably only four hours or so… They haven’t been tested for long periods of time–”

“Oh, stop worrying, Hermione. I’ll definitely be out of there by midnight,” Ginny laughed, grinning at her freckle-less skin. “Can you make my hair a bit lighter? It looks funny so dark.”

A few spells and a change of dress later, Ginny was ready to Apparate.

“You’re going to have to change your first name you know,” Hermione added as she took one last look at her friend, just to make sure there was nothing telling in her appearance.

“To what?”

“Can’t you think of one?”

The newly-brunette Ginny examined herself in the mirror as she thought about it. Her skin was still milky, but without a single mark. Her nose was thinner, more aristocratic (the girls found it fitting), and her lips were slightly fuller. Her eyes were now hazel instead of brown. They didn’t want her face to look too unusual, so they left it at that. They tried to make her look a couple years younger, so that she could pass for a Slytherin who had been a few years below Draco–that way he wouldn’t have noticed her. She wore dress robes of the lightest blue, and they shimmered as she walked. For a joke that Ginny didn’t understand even after it was explained to her repeatedly, Hermione got her to wear glass slippers. They were charmed and very comfortable, despite the high heel. (“You have to be able to dance,” Hermione had hissed throughout her charm work.)

Pulling her attention back to her name instead of new look, she said, “What was that story you were telling me about?”

“Cinderella?”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll be Ella. How’s that?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, but there was a slight smile on her face nonetheless. “Fine. But I think you should go now. Make sure they don’t find out, and be careful if you find Blaise.”

“I think I can handle Zabini, Hermione.”

Blaise Zabini had decided that it would be amusing to go Muggle hunting every once in a while. The Ministry, however, did not find it humorous, and he had a one-way ticket to Azkaban the second they found him. Unfortunately, the little jerk was a bit hard to find, but the Auror department–grasping at straws–had figured he might be at Malfoy’s ball, because hadn’t they been good friends? No one was at all certain, but Ginny was sent just in case.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ginny’s self-confidence. “Fine, then I guess the only danger is Draco Malfoy falling in love with you.”

“No chance of that,” Ginny laughed right before she Apparated.

Chapter 2: Of Obnoxious Groupies, Blaise-Less Parties, and Convincing ‘Acting’

Ginny Apparated a few feet in front of the house, as was the custom. She was a few minutes late, as was the fashion. She looked perfect, as was the necessity. She was doing everything right, absolutely everything. Except, of course, the whole being-a-blood-traitor thing.

At the door, a servant took her invitation and analysed it for a moment. It passed the detailed inspection, which made her wonder who exactly Harry had stolen it from. Not that there had been any other option, of course. That was one thing she couldn’t exactly blame him for.

The inspector gestured her in, and she saw Draco standing with his parents, greeting the incoming guests. His pale hair was groomed back perfectly, and his black robes only succeeded in amplifying his white skin.

Rolling her eyes at any and all thoughts she might have about his appearance, she walked purposefully up to them, until his grey eyes locked with hers.

---

Draco was not enjoying the party. Except, you know, it had just started. But it was so boring. He laughing heartily with, and smiled graciously at, women he abhorred and truly would rather die than marry.

A few minutes after the ball began, a woman walked alone through the door. She looked to be about nineteen or so, and beautifully elegant. Not only that, but her eyes weren’t as blank as the others’; he thought she might even have some intelligent thoughts!

It was Ginny, of course. He just didn’t know. She smiled as he analysed her even more intently than the doorman had her invitation, unable to stop the thoughts of what he would think if he knew she was a blood traitor Weasley.

“Hello,” she said softly, appropriately greeting his father first. “I’m Ella Greengrass. I’m sorry my cousins couldn’t come – they so desperately wanted to.”

She got to Draco, who was undeniably entranced by her. God, she looked like she might even be interesting! Surely no one else could measure up to that.

Narcissa said graciously, “Why don’t you give your coat to–”

“Me,” Draco cut in. “I’ll take it. Would you like to walk with me?”

Ginny stared at him for a moment, almost unable to comprehend. He had an easy smile and a curious look. Not at all the bastard she remembered.

“Sure,” she answered, a smile coming across her face before she could stop it; she tried to convince herself she was just acting.

As they neared the other side of the ballroom – sneaking half-glances at each other but not saying a word – Draco gasped.

Draco stared, wanting to do anything but see her. “Ella, do you mind? I refuse to talk to her!”

Ginny followed his eyes. “Pansy Parkinson? Are you dating her–”

“Oh, God, no. That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid. Do you mind if we pretend to be dating – just for a moment – so that she leaves? I can’t – she’s awful – you have no idea.”

“Well, no, I guess not,” Ginny answered, eyes wide. Who could have guessed anything like this would happen so soon? But maybe if she got on his good side, she would find out where Blaise was and fulfil her mission.

“Okay, good.”

Without comprehending, Ginny watched as Draco swiftly dropped her coat and pulled her to him. His cold lips touched hers, feather-light. In his gesture, she could tell he was trying to say he didn’t mean anything by it; he was just acting. Of course, she felt horrified that Malfoy was kissing her. He was disgusting, and so was his kiss. At least, that’s what she told herself.

Draco indeed did force himself not to touch her too harshly, and plainly tell her he couldn’t possibly have any feelings at all for her; after all, he had only just met her and certainly knew nothing about her. He was only doing it because he wanted Pansy to think he was dating someone else… Right? Yes. Yes, of course!

But no matter what they told themselves, the kiss was an enjoyable experience all around. Well, not for Pansy, who – it must be noted – was staring in horror and loathing at the random brunette girl Draco was snogging. She was gripping her wand incredibly tightly, and a spark shot out the end.

Draco pulled away slowly, taking his hands from Ginny’s back. He looked around, and he pretended (rather convincingly) to spot Pansy for the first time. Grabbing Ginny’s hand – to, er, keep up the facade that they were dating – he walked over to her and said, “What’s wrong?”

Ginny almost laughed. It was entirely too amusing to watch her stand there glaring bloody murder.

“Have you met Ella?” Draco asked, reaching up Ginny’s hand and bringing it to his lips in a sweet gesture… that was just acting, of course.

Ginny thought she might as well do her part. She leaned into Draco, standing intimately close. She reached out her other hand. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Draco, I need to speak with you. Now,” Pansy snapped, fully ignoring Ginny.

“Fine,” Draco agreed, attempting not to smile. “You’ll wait for me, won’t you?” Draco asked, and kissed her forehead lightly, just brushing their coolness against her heated skin.

“Of course,” she whispered back, trying very hard to feel sickened about his lips on her face.

She watched him leave and breathed deeply. If he knew who I was, he would be so disgusted right now… Think about that. With that belief firmly in place, she went lurking around the ballroom in search of Blaise.

---

“What do you want, Pansy?” he growled, the second they got inside the parlour.

“Are you dating that girl? Who the hell is she anyway?” she asked, her eyes flashing and her entire face threatening murder.

“Daphne and Astoria’s cousin, Ella. But I don’t see why it’s any concern of yours,” he snapped, sounding very cold.

“Draco,” she whined, softening her voice, “don’t you know that we belong together? Why are you with her when you should be with me?”

“We’re not meant to be, Pansy, and you would know that if you weren’t so bloody idiotic.”

She was trying every tactic she’d ever used, but of course none were working. “Are you dating her?”

“We've only been dating for a couple of days. I wouldn’t be having this ball otherwise. Which also means I have to dance with everyone here.” He wondered if he sounded convincing.

“I’ll kill her!”

God, Pansy was so insane. She went from angry to crying back to angry again over the course of about five seconds. Draco would choose anyone before her.

“Pansy, if you keep saying stuff like that I’ll force you to leave this party. Do you want that?”

“No… But Draco darling, why her?”

He just shook his head and left, not bothering to answer. He wondered how long it would take Pansy to figure out they weren’t – and never would be – dating. It was highly doubtful that she ever would.

Inside the ballroom, he scanned the room but didn’t see Ginny anywhere. Shrugging, he began to dance. One eligible wife down, only a couple dozen more to go…

---

Damn, Ginny thought. He’s not here anywhere.

Ginny had searched and searched for that Muggle-killing scum, but he was nowhere to be found. She sighed. Now her entire mission had failed, and being here was completely and utterly pointless. She could easily leave now and spend the rest of her evening at home, or with Ron and Hermione… Not that they were exactly loads of fun to spend time with, especially since they were still in that newlywed stage that was absolutely repulsive to watch.

So she placed herself in the corner, planning to watch the ball but not take part, just in case Blaise decided to show himself later.

---

Draco found her! She was sitting there doing absolutely nothing – in a corner, of all places.

“May I have this dance?” he said silkily.

Ginny started. “Oh! Of course,” she answered, less bored now that she had something to do.

“You didn’t wait for me,” he laughed.

“Well, who knows how things with you and Pansy could have turned out,” Ginny answered, wondering if she was acting well enough. “From what I noticed, you seemed to be quite the couple at Hogwarts.”

“Oh, God, we did?” He looked truly disgusted.

“Well, I was a couple years younger than you, but yeah, definitely.”

He began to chuckle softly. “I imagine it must’ve looked like that, I guess. She followed me around like a dog.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “So, what did she say?”

He grinned. Talking to her wasn’t boring him like the other conversations he’d had. And the dancing was definitely a plus. She was a great dancer.

Ginny felt the same way. She would never have thought that Malfoy of all people would be so graceful, but he truly was. She was having a good time, even though she certainly wasn’t used to this type of dancing. Shaking her head quickly, Ginny warned herself not to find this too enjoyable. He was Malfoy, after all.

“Oh, you know,” Draco answered, his voice heavy with amusement, “the usual. There was some sobbing and threats of violence, but in the end I think she calmed down. She’s still around here somewhere, so I would suggest being ready to curse her – even an Unforgivable, if necessary.”

Ginny found herself laughing, and didn’t even have a chance to feel disturbed. “Thanks for the advice. Do you frequently have crazed girls after you like this?”

“It’s not unheard of,” he smirked, and Ginny grinned, not finding his smirk offensive anymore.

“But you apparently settled down long enough to date me for… how long again?”

“Only a couple of days, sorry.”

“Really? So there won’t be any announcing of our engagement, or anything like that, tonight, that I should probably know about beforehand?”

“None that I can think of. I’ll let you know a couple seconds in advance.”

“Promise?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.

“Definitely,” he answered.

She grinned up at him, but quickly looked down as her expression changed. Talking to him was just so much fun, but it shouldn’t be… right? He was a Malfoy, after all….

---

Pansy walked out of the house into the snowy night, prepared to search for any information that would help her… Because something was odd about Ella Greengrass, and she was sure of that. But it was already ten o’clock, so she hardly had any more time.

Chapter 3: Of Semi-Intelligent Conversations, Not-So-Permanent Escapes, and Completely Evil Sabotage

Ginny stared up at Draco, thinking deeply. She really needed to get information about Blaise, or she’d feel guilty afterwards. “Tell me about yourself, your friends,” she said, smiling, thinking it was the only way. “Frankly, you seemed quite different at Hogwarts, much more…” she trailed off delicately, knowing this was one of the only times she hadn’t lied to him.

He chuckled. “I was a bit of an ass, wasn’t I?”

She smiled wryly. There was definitely no denying it.

“Well, after the fall of the Dark Lord, we just sort of stayed in the background, but now my parents think I should get married. I’m only twenty-two, so it seems a bit ridiculous to be worrying about it now, but what can you do? As for my friends, well, I don’t really talk to them all that much anymore. Goyle’s been in Azkaban for a while now, and Blaise” – Ginny tried not to stare too intensely as he continued – “has been off killing Muggles for no apparent reason. Doesn’t seem too fun to me actually, but don’t tell anyone I said that. Blaise is quite the idiot. I think the Aurors are searching for him, but I haven’t the faintest idea where he is. Well, anyway, Nott and I have been better friends than ever… I have to admit I used to think he was a bit of a prick, but he actually turned out to be really – I’m boring you, aren’t I?”

“No, not at all, actually. It’s interesting. This might sound really rude, but why weren’t you sent to Azkaban.” It was utterly tactless of her to ask that, but she had always wondered, and being in disguise made her even more bold than ever.

He smiled wryly, amused instead of angry. “Well, the great hero Potter saved me, of course. He convinced them I shouldn’t be forced to go.”

Of course. That was typical Harry. “You don’t seem too grateful,” she laughed.

“He’s just – Potter. I’m never going to stop hating him.”

“Understandable,” she conceded truthfully. Harry was a complete prat, after all.

“So your parents want you to get married?” she laughed, giggling softly. “You have quite a few more years, don’t you?”

“Well, the Malfoys don’t do anything half-way,” he explained, rolling his eyes. He was always amused by his parents; it was so hard to stay mad at them. They meant well. “All the purebloods–”

“Not all,” she clarified, interrupting him.

“Not the blood traitors,” he acknowledged.

“Your parents want to protect you from falling for a someone who isn’t… pure?”

“Well, yes.” He grinned down at her, moving in time to the music.

She was keeping up the charade rather well. All she had to do was keep up the witty conversation for an hour and a half–

An hour and a half! Time had been flying by.

“So,” she started again, “say you wanted to marry a half-blood. What would happen then?”

“I don’t think they would like it, but they wouldn’t stop it, I think.” His brow was furrowed and he was imagining their reactions. A moment later a half-smiled came across his face. Their reactions would be hilarious.

“I assume that the reaction for a Muggle-born and a blood traitor would be nearly the same?” She just wanted to know about this foreign part of her world; this place was so strange, but not entirely unfriendly. Snobbish, yes, but not threatening. It was sort of endearing, in a way. Like you could smile at them, because they were so naïve.

“No,” he answered, shaking his head and thinking. “Marrying a Muggle-born would be thoroughly out of the question. But I don’t think they would be too adverse to the idea of me marrying a blood traitor. Nearly everyone is a blood traitor now, to some extent. Mother” – he began to laugh loudly – “talked to a half-blood the other day, and didn’t even look disgusted when she walked away. For years she never could’ve done that. We might not be blood traitors like the Weasleys” – he felt Ginny stiffen in his arms and he stared down at her until she smiled meekly and continued dancing – “or something, but we’re far from being like Blaise. I don’t even know what happened to him. He must’ve exploded or something like that; he was never that crazy at Hogwarts.”

She laughed shakily, trying to sound and act normal to make up for the moment where she had almost given herself away. “Well, my family was never like yours, as far as all that goes, which is why I’m so curious.”

“Daphne always seemed very tolerant, not to mention… exuberant.”

“Meaning she was bloody annoying,” Ginny laughed, thinking of the little she did know of Daphne. “She and Pansy were best friends, weren’t they?”

“And very well-suited to be,” he answered dryly. “Astoria, however, was far less so.”

Ginny instantly tensed, wondering why in the world she had brought up the Greengrass sisters. She didn’t know anything about them, but she was supposed to be their cousin! This could only go in the wrong direction. “Well,” she began, changing the subject quickly, “you haven’t danced with nearly all the eligible wives here yet. I thought you were going to?”

“I was,” he answered, staring intently at her, “but now I think I don’t need to.”

She nearly gasped. He was giving her that look, the one that said he was falling for her. She couldn’t have Draco Malfoy fall for her! He was… he was – well, he was Malfoy, after all.

The song ended at that moment, and she said as calmly as she could, “Why don’t you go dance with someone else for a moment. I really must, er, use the bathroom.”

He laughed.

“What?” she asked, her eyes widening.

“Oh, nothing, it’s just that most women I know would say they had to ‘freshen up their makeup’ or something ridiculous like that.”

“Should I have said that also?” she said aloud, and then blushed furiously for speaking her thoughts.

“No, it’s quite refreshing to hear you tell the truth, actually,” he answered, still chuckling.

She rolled her eyes and couldn’t help but smile. “Well, go on then. Mingle, or whatever it is you’re supposed to do at parties.”

“See you soon,” he answered, and then swept down to kiss her hand, as was customary. She blushed again. She knew she must be blushing far too much for someone with dark hair, but there was nothing she could do about it.

“Bye,” she answered in a strangled voice, and nearly ran out of the room.

Once she got into the hallway, she Apparated.

---

He stared after her as she left. She was strange, but there was something intriguing about her. She made him want to know more and more about her.

He didn’t want to dance with anyone else. What was the point? Then he would be forced to be bored and talk to someone he didn’t want to talk to, and pretend to enjoy it. He had never liked parties the way he tried to let on.

He liked Ella’s honesty, her bold personality. As for her personality, she really didn’t seem all that suited to be a Slytherin, actually. Plus, he never remembered seeing anyone that looked like her. She could’ve been lying about her House, and he could understand that. They were nearly all Slytherins here; he doubted she would want to admit that she was the lone outsider.

He hoped he could convince her to see him again after this. At the very least, he knew they could be friends. He wouldn’t mind having her around.

Sighing and shaking away any other fanciful thought he might have, he turned around to continue his duties as the host of the party.

---

“Ginny! What are you doing here?”

“This is more important than you and Ron snogging, Hermione. Come and talk to me.”

Blushing slightly, Hermione got up from beside Ron and walked with Ginny into the kitchen.

“What is it? Did something go wrong?”

“Yes!” Ginny said desperately, wondering why she had come to Hermione of all people. Hermione wouldn’t understand, but she had to tell someone. “I think Draco Malfoy is falling for me.”

Hermione gasped, but after about two seconds began to laugh hysterically. “Are you serious? Malfoy is falling in love with you? Imagine, your kids would have pink hair–”

“Hermione!” Ginny protested, failing to see the humour in the situation. “I don’t know what to do. Should I tell him?”

Hermione, finally regaining control, just rolled her eyes. “You know you can’t tell him, Ginny, so why don’t you just stay here? You only have a little over an hour anyway.”

“He’s expecting me. I can’t just stay here.”

“Remember how I told you before you left that your only danger was Malfoy falling in love with you. It looks like I was right!” Then Hermione began laughing again.

“Ha ha. Aren’t you hilarious, Hermione. Always the know-it-all, aren’t you?”


Then she Disapparated, wondering why in the world she had thought Hermione would be able to help her in the first place.

---

Draco caught sight of her the moment she came back into the room. Immediately ceasing dancing with whichever annoying woman he happened to be partners with, he strode over to her and asked silkily, “May I have this dance?”

She gazed at him strangely, as if trying to decide whether she really didn’t hate him, or if she just thought so. Even she couldn’t deny that he was being an all-around good man, but of course that had to be because she was disguised as an elegant, beautiful, and oh-so-eligible pureblood. “Sure,” she answered in a strangled voice.

But he didn’t take her hand right away. “Are you okay?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he gazed into her flushed face.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she answered, trying to grin happily. But she knew her smile looked fake.

“No, you’re not,” he said flatly, wondering why she was lying. “Would you like to go into the library or something?”

“Well, sure. But just for a moment,” she replied. Then she wondered why she agreed. Surely being alone in a room with Draco would be much worse than just dancing with him in a crowded ballroom.

She was a Gryffindor, after all – even though she might be masquerading as a Slytherin. With that thought in mind she gathered her wits about her and walked calmly into the library with Draco.

“So what’s wrong?” he asked once they were safely through the door.

“Nothing,” she answered, her voice a bit too high. “Nothing at all.”

He stared at her strangely. Was he making her uncomfortable? He didn’t want to; he was getting used to talking to her and was having a great time.

Damn. Maybe she knew he was falling for her, and that was making her uncomfortable. Needless to say, he would much rather have her feeling the same way back.

After all, she was interesting. She was easy to talk to, and he’d never met anyone like that. To everyone else he was cold, formal, because no one had her fire. He liked that about her, and didn’t want to stop getting to know her. He wouldn’t mind just being friends with her; he would love getting to know her, but he didn’t see how she could leave him today, like she, Ella Greengrass, had never existed.

“I’m making you uncomfortable, aren’t I?” he questioned.

“No, I’m fine,” Ginny insisted, staring into his eyes, but that made her heart jump a little. “I just… don’t think I’m the person you should be choosing at this party. Because you are, aren’t you?”

“Why do you think you aren’t the person for me?” he asked, looking a bit offended. “Are you with someone?”

“No, but—”

“Then why not?”

“I’m not… who you think I am,” she whispered.

“I know that you’re smart, interesting, and beautiful,” he answered, his voice a bit harsh at the thought of losing her. “I know that I would rather spend time with you than any of those people out there.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she insisted, staring at him now.

“You refuse?” he snapped, looking hurt just for a moment until he forced the expression away.

“Yes,” she sighed, feeling far more pain than she thought she would have under the circumstances. “But you don’t understand—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice resigned, as he turned and left the room.

Ginny sank down shakily onto the sofa, feeling like she had made the wrong choice.

---

Draco had spent the last hour dancing with dozens of women. He had talked to them all, and every single one fell short of… her.

He didn’t understand why she had done that. He had told her it didn’t matter what her reason was, but now he felt like he had to know. Without thinking, at five minutes to midnight, he sprinted to the library and opened the door. He half-expected her not to be there, but she was, sitting on the sofa staring off into space.

Ginny looked up when she heard the door open.

“Why?” Draco demanded.

“It — it doesn’t matter,” she answered, looking away. “You said so yourself.”

“Yes, it does matter, because I can tell you want to be with me, don’t you?”

“That doesn’t matter either,” she answered, her voice strange.

“Tell me you don’t care for me, and I’ll leave and never bother you,” he said, his heart pounding; it seemed so unlike him to do something like this, but he had to, because he wanted Ella Greengrass.

“I don’t — I really don’t —” Then she stopped and shook her head, because she couldn’t say it — she couldn’t lie.

“See, Ella? Why can’t we date? I want to know you—”

Then they heard a commotion outside in the ballroom. Exchanging stares of confusion, they silently agreed to go see what was happening. As they entered, they saw a circle made around a mad-looking Pansy Parkinson and two girls…

The Greengrass sisters.

Ginny gasped loudly and began to turn so that she could Apparate, but before she could Pansy pounced on her and dragged her into the centre with Daphne and Astoria.

“Pansy! What the hell are you doing?” Draco shouting, following them.

“Wait just one second, Draco,” Pansy said, grinning sweetly. She looked around at everyone, keeping a firm grasp on Ginny’s arm.

Ginny’s heart began to pound rapidly — she knew something had gone horrible wrong.

Pansy began to address the crowd, “I didn’t think there was any such person as Ella Greengrass so I went and found her so-called cousins, and guess what they have to say?”

“I’ve never seen this person before in my life,” Astoria exclaimed, right on cue.

The clock began to strike midnight and Ginny gasped as she felt her hair lengthening and her nose getting wider. The hair framing her face was turning from brown to red, and everyone was staring at her intently.

“Ginny Weasley!” Pansy exclaimed, quickly dropped her arm in disgust.

“Ginny?” Draco bellowed, his face the picture of surprise.

Unable to stay there one moment longer, Ginny took a few steps away from where Pansy was trying to grab her again and spun precariously in order to Apparate…

One of her glass slippers coming off in the process.