Ginny appeared on the polished marble steps of the imposing Malfoy Manor, responding to an accident and emergency call. She wasn't terribly excited that she had been the one to take the call, but she supposed the Malfoys had the same right to medical attention as any other wizarding family. Her wand still in her hand, she knocked abruptly on the massive wooden door.

The colossal door swung open to reveal Draco Malfoy, a frown on his face.

Draco looked at the woman who was obviously the healer that he'd summoned. He recognized her immediately; after all, he'd spent the better part of his sixth year watching her from afar. To be honest, fantasizing about her. He'd never really spoken to her, although he'd thought about it, and her, a great deal.

"Ginny Weasley. Come in."

"Thank you," she said as she entered through the door, noticing the strained expression on Draco's face. She couldn't help but think he must be quite worried about his mother if he sidestepped propriety and received her at the door himself instead of letting a house elf attend to it.

He gazed at her for a moment, lost in old memories, and then blinked several times, remembering what she was there for.

"Right," he said, gesturing to the corridor ahead of them. "My mother took a nasty spill in the gardens a few minutes ago and hit her head on the stone path. I want to make sure that she's alright," he said as they walked through magnificently decorated hallway, with the likes of Rembrandt and Monet gracing the walls. "She's just through here."

He opened the double doors to reveal a ladies' parlour, done in summer colors, delicate and feminine, which held Narcissa Malfoy, elegant and regal. Even with a head injury, she was in complete command of the room, and looked as if she could host a luncheon for two hundred at a moment's notice.

"Is this the healer, Draco?" the blonde woman asked, appraising Ginny with a quirked eyebrow. "I told you that I was fine, darling. You didn't have to call St. Mungo's."

Draco looked at Ginny with an expression that clearly read, 'help.'

Ginny grinned at Draco as she set her cloak down on a chair and stepped forward to kneel by the chaise Narcissa was seated upon. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Malfoy. Yes, I am the healer. My name is Ginny Weasley." She observed Narcissa while introducing herself and noted that she seemed to be alert and aware. Getting to her feet and taking the chair to the side of the chaise that Draco offered her she said, "I'd like to take a quick look at your head, if I may."

At Narcissa's nod, Ginny carefully searched her head for signs of trauma, but other than a few tiny scratches along her temple; Ginny found nothing out of the ordinary. She passed her wand over them, murmuring the incantation, and they disappeared.

Narcissa pulled out a hand mirror and inspected Ginny's work. The porcelain skin was unmarred. "Well done," she said in approval.

"Thank you," Ginny said with a smile. "I'm going to ask you a few questions now, if you don't mind. I'm afraid they may seem silly."

Narcissa studied Ginny for a moment. She glanced up at Draco with a long-suffering look and replied, "Yes, alright."

"Could you tell me what day of the week it is?" Ginny asked almost apologetically.

Narcissa's face remained carefully blank. It wouldn't do to call visiting healers idiots, after all. "It's Tuesday afternoon at half four," she replied with pursed lips. Looking up at her son, she said, "Speaking of, Draco darling, would you arrange tea, please?"

"Of course, Mother." Ginny watched for a moment as he crossed the room and rang a small bell, conversed briefly with a house elf, and returned quickly.

Ginny was certain that Narcissa was quite fine, but needed to be absolutely certain. "Mrs. Malfoy? Do you recall what you ate for breakfast?"

The girl is earnest, at least. She apparently isn't going to be intimidated or rushed off. Good for her. A faint smile graced the corner of Narcissa Malfoy's mouth. "Half a grapefruit and toast. Tea with honey."

She then gave Draco a pointed look, and Ginny watched as the man's face went from concerned to amused.

"Yes, that's right. She remembers. She also remembers the éclair she had as well, that she doesn't want you to know about." He threw himself in the chair across from them and chuckled. "It's her dirty little secret."

Narcissa huffed. "Draco Malfoy!" She rolled her eyes and looked at Ginny in commiseration. "Men." She shot Draco a glare. "That's it. You're out of the will."

"Mother, you say that three times a week," Draco replied with a smile.

"And this time I mean it," she said, smoothing her already perfect blonde hair into the twist that held it.

Draco laughed. "Yes, alright, Mother."

Ginny caught herself smiling as she followed their banter back and forth. She rose to her feet and gathered up her bag of medical supplies. "I think you're going to be just fine, Mrs. Malfoy." She glanced quickly at Draco before continuing, "I'm glad Draco was cautious, though. You can never be too careful with head injuries."

Narcissa nodded and gestured for Ginny to take a seat as an elf wheeled in the afternoon tea. "Yes, well, his smart mouth aside, he is a good boy," she said, pleased at Ginny's compliment of her son. She poured for the threesome and sat back for a moment, watching her son watch the healer. She found that little development very interesting indeed.

"How is your mother, Miss Weasley?" Narcissa asked Ginny over the rim of her teacup. "It's been an age since I've seen her."

"She is doing very well; she's just been made a Grandmum, and she's never been happier. Thank you for asking." Ginny took a sip from her teacup, pleasantly surprised that she was enjoying tea with Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, of all people.

"A grandmother!" Narcissa exclaimed. She clapped her hands in delight and sighed, her face falling as she looked at Draco with a disappointed air. "I should be so lucky. At the rate Draco scares away women I won't be a grandmother until I'm too old to pick up the little darlings."

"Mother," Draco muttered in embarrassment, rolling his eyes.

Ginny shared a look of commiseration with Draco and offered him up a small smile. She should have realized Narcissa would do the same thing Molly would at the mention of grandbabies. She bit back a giggle though at the thought of Draco scaring away women; she knew he was one of the most sought after bachelors in Great Britain. "I didn't realize Draco was so frightening," she said lightly, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, you know me, terribly frightening," Draco said drolly, setting down his cup.

"Terrified of commitment, more like," Narcissa countered under her breath.

Ginny's eyes widened and she continued, "Draco told me you were out in the garden at the time of your fall. Do you spend a lot of time in your garden?" She noticed Draco seemed to relax a bit at her reply.

"More time than she does indoors, that's for sure," Draco interjected. "I get less attention than her roses," he said with a mock pout.

"Yes, well," Narcissa replied with a authoritative tone, if you start winning awards and multiplying like they do, then we'll renegotiate the amount of time I spend with you," she teased.

Ginny couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled forth, and instinctively clapped a hand over her mouth. "Forgive me for laughing, please."

"There's nothing wrong with laughter, Miss Weasley," Narcissa said. "It's something that this house could use more of." She gazed at her son, whose face, for the first time in quite a while, held a pleasant expression.

Ginny smiled at Narcissa's words. She would have never have guessed her to be so personable and kind. "I'd love to see your roses sometime," Ginny said, hoping she hadn't overstepped her bounds as a visiting healer, but feeling surprisingly comfortable with the Malfoy matriarch.

"Of course. The next time you find yourself in the middle of the Wiltshire countryside, do drop in."

Ginny's smile faltered only a little and she gathered her bag, thanked Mrs. Malfoy for tea, and walked silently as Draco escorted her to the entrance hall.

They came to the large front doors and Draco stood with his hands shoved in his pockets, a lock of blond hair falling across his forehead. "I do appreciate your promptness in coming all the way out here," he said sincerely.

"It was no problem at all. I'm just glad your mother wasn't seriously hurt." She watched Draco's fringe fall almost down into his eyes and her fingers itched to reach out and brush it off it forehead. "Please don't hesitate to Floo if you're concerned about her again. You'll want to keep a close eye on her for the next twenty-four hours."

He nodded, and reached out a hand and shook hers, conscious that in all the time that he'd known her, this was the first time they'd touched. Her hand was small and delicate, but warm, and she applied just the right amount of pressure. He noted that she didn't pull away immediately, either, unlike most people who shook the hands of former Death Eaters.

"Until next time, Miss Weasley," he said, bringing her hand up and brushing his lips over her knuckles.

Ginny's stomach flip-flopped nicely as his lips made contact with her hand which was tingling from his touch. "Please, call me Ginny," she said looking up at him through her lashes. She was sure she was blushing furiously, and with one last look at Draco, she Apparated.

Draco closed the doors and grinned. Ginny Weasley. This wouldn't be the last time he saw her, he'd make sure of that. There was energy to his step that hadn't been there in quite some time when he rejoined his mother in her parlour.

Narcissa knew her son quite well, and she knew him to be kind and impulsive, even though the newspapers printed otherwise. She could tell that he was taken with the Weasley girl. And Narcissa heartily approved, if for no other reasons that the girl was beautiful and, if anything like her mother, would give Narcissa a houseful of grandchildren in no time. But she had to make sure Draco was serious; he’d wasted quite a lot of time in her opinion, on girls that were completely unworthy of him, or relationships that she'd known wouldn't work from the start. She was sure that this one would, if he could only work past his own prejudices and inability to settle down and actually be with a girl.

Feeling him out, she asked, "The healer was a nice girl, don't you think?"

Draco sat up a little straighter. "Yes," he said.

"Too bad her whole family's a bunch of blood traitors. I can't tell you how many times your father cursed Arthur Weasley's name over the last twenty years," she intoned, watching Draco closely.

Draco's entire posture changed. "Right. I forgot about that."

Narcissa mentally rolled her eyes. Fight with me. Tell me he was wrong. Tell me you don't care. "Pity," Narcissa said, watching Draco from the corner of her eye. "Because she was a lovely girl. Impeccable manners. Charming personality."

She was disappointed in him. He didn't care enough about the girl to tell his mother that she was wrong. Narcissa hated to do it, but she decided to use her secret weapon. The one that always worked.

"Tell me, Draco," she said with an interested expression, "have you seen the Parkinson girl recently? Her mother tells me she's asked after you several times."

"No, Mother," Draco said sharply. "I have not seen, nor talked to Pansy in quite a while, and I won't be anytime soon, either." He stood and tried not to roll his eyes. "I'm going up to my suite for a bit before dinner."

Narcissa hid a smirk. "Alright, darling. Dinner at eight."

"Of course." He started to stalk from the room when a flash of burgundy caught his eye. He nonchalantly picked up Ginny Weasley's forgotten cloak without breaking stride, and left the room.

After the door had closed behind him, Narcissa let out a soft chuckle. "I wonder how long it will be before he reunites the inimitable Miss Weasley with her cloak?" she murmured aloud, leaning her head against the back of her chair, triumphant smile in place.

Draco stared at the scrap of cloth for the two thousandth time that week. He should take it to her. It was hers. She might be cold. She might not remember where she'd left it. He wouldn't try to chat her up while he was there. He'd just give it to her and leave.

Right?

Right.

He grabbed the cloak, and marched to the Floo before he could change his mind. Throwing is a handful of dust, he enunciated, "St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries."

The spinning sensation of the Floo always made him feel a bit off, so Draco stood against the wall in the corridor for a moment before setting off to find Ginny. He pointed his wand at her cloak and siphoned of the soot, and then at himself, hoping he erased all traces of Floo travel.

Walking down the hall to the tea room during an afternoon break, Ginny found her thoughts turning unbidden once more to Draco. He'd been entirely pleasant with her and she certainly couldn't deny there had been a definite physical attraction. She still felt butterflies when she thought of his warm lips on her hand and the lovely pressure they exerted. She couldn't help but wonder how those lips would feel elsewhere. Blushing slightly, she turned the corner and ran straight into the object of her musings.

"Malfoy!" she said, feeling rather flustered and certain that if there had been a stick of butter nearby she'd have already put an elbow in it. "Um, hello," she said, trying to get the higher part of her brain functioning again, and in succeeding, she realized he looked a bit green. "I'm just on my way to the tea room, would you care to join me for a cup?"

Draco cursed whatever wizard invented the Floo network. It would be his luck that he'd run into Ginny while looking peaky. "Yes," he said thankfully, "tea would be fantastic." They began walking down the hall to the lifts and he looked down at the top of her head, at all the different shades of red hair that she'd pinned up. "And it's Draco."

"Right in here then, Draco," she said, pointing at the open door to her right. She hoped she wasn't as red-faced as she felt, but she knew there wasn't much to be done about it even if she was. It didn't help her blush much that he was looking very sharp in black trousers and a blue button-down shirt; she was finding it difficult to concentrate. She gestured to the sofa and said, "Why don't you have a seat?" She dragged her eyes away from him and turned to the counter to prepare their tea. She arranged everything neatly on a tray with some biscuits and set it on the table in front of the sofa. Sitting down next to Draco, she smoothed out her skirt and set her hands in her lap. "What brings you to St. Mungo's today?" She smiled at Draco, but then her expression became worried. "It's not your mother, is it?"

He smiled and held out the cloak he'd forgotten he was holding. "Here, I found this in the parlour after you left. I hope it hasn't been an inconvenience not having it." He held out the garment. "So, to answer your question, I came to St. Mungo's today to see you, Ginny." So much for not chatting her up, he thought.

"To see me?" she asked, a smile forming on her face. As she reached out to take her cloak from him, their fingertips brushed and all she could hear was her heart beating an insistent cadence in her ears. She set her cloak aside and picked up a cup of tea before she looked at him again. She pondered briefly how a man could be so beautiful and still remain masculine as he clearly was. She tore her gaze away from his perfectly formed lips and looked him in the eyes. She told herself she didn't need to go getting all excited because he had come to return her cloak. "Thank you for returning it. Honestly, I had forgotten where I'd left it."

He nodded. "I thought as much when you didn't come back for it." He took a mug of tea and thought about throwing his mother's opinion out the window and asking Ginny out right there and then. Instead, he leaned back on the sofa and studied every part of her that he could see while he had the chance. "I'm not keeping you from anything, am I?"

"Not at all. I was heading on my break when I about flattened you in the hallway earlier," she said with a giggle. "Sorry for that."

"It would have been my pleasure, I'm sure," he replied, his lips quirking.

"I'm not so sure about that," she joked. "The last person I ran into was incapacitated for a week. I may look tiny, but I pack quite the punch I'll have you know."

"I can imagine," he murmured. He took a biscuit from the tray and stopped suddenly, the manners his mother ingrained temporarily forgotten. "May I?" he asked.

"Of course, help yourself to anything you like."

Draco looked at her sharply, his eyes twinkling. "Oh, Ginny, you shouldn't make statements like that. I tend to take things very literally."

"Oh. Oh!" she said, noticing the look in his eyes that matched the tone of his voice. "Well, perhaps not anything you like," she added with a giggle.

"Well isn't that just too bad?" he said, smirking at the blush that pinked her cheeks. "I'll have to make do with a macaroon." He popped the bite size treat in his mouth and smiled at her as he chewed. She was every bit as lovely if not more so than she'd been at school. Her eyes were completely beautiful, especially when she looked at him from beneath her lashes. He wondered if she'd allow him to kiss her. Just once. Just to finally know what it would be like. He looked down and took another sip of tea. Probably not, though, he thought. Nice girls and Former Death Eaters didn't generally go together. He breathed deeply and set the cup down, laying his arm on the back of the sofa behind her head.

"Well, they are good macaroons," she said, suddenly aware of what felt like hundreds of butterflies in her stomach. Ginny noticed Draco's arm behind her head as it came to rest across her shoulders. She swallowed as the butterflies turned into Hippogriffs at his touch. She knew it had been awhile since her last boyfriend, but she couldn't remember being so excited over a mere arm brushing her shoulders before.

When she tilted her face to look up at him, Draco took the chance he'd wanted since he was seventeen years old. He closed the gap between them and caught her lips with his. Just that brief contact with Ginny's lips excited Draco more than he thought possible. Before he could stop himself, he brought his hand up to cradle her cheek, and the soft sigh she expelled at that contact was almost his undoing. He swept his tongue in her open mouth and smiled that she tasted of coconut, chamomile and honey.

Groaning, he pulled back from her, looking at her dazed eyes, and suddenly feeling very guilty. And frustrated. "Apologies. I simply couldn't resist."

It took a moment for Ginny to form words. She was shocked, but the kiss had been lovely; she felt it from the top of her head all the way down to her toes. "No apologies necessary, Draco, not for that." She smiled demurely at him when what she really wanted to do was pull her to him and give him the snog of his life. But she was only on break and it was coming quickly to an end. "But I have to apologize," she began, "I'm due back any minute. Thank you for returning my cloak."

"Of course," he replied, standing with her. He knew that he shouldn't have done that. A girl like Ginny; beautiful, intelligent, a good conversationalist, would never want him. He should stick to the girls who didn't think very often. Shallow, vapid, society types that wanted him for his money and didn't care about his past. He should pay attention to the advice of his mother and pay Pansy Parkinson a visit.

He shuddered internally. Over my dead body.

Ginny reached out and squeezed his shoulder lightly and found she wished she had a reason to keep her hand there. "I'll see you around then."

Draco gave her a crooked, perhaps wistful smile, and ran his fingers through his blond hair. "I certainly hope so." He nodded to her and started down the corridor.

She watched him as he strode confidently down the hallway. She was having a difficult time reconciling this Draco Malfoy with the one she had known at Hogwarts. He was charming and polite, and the fact that he was devastatingly handsome helped a bit as well. She shook her head and reminded herself she should come back to the real world where Malfoys and Weasleys didn't mix and where she had patients to see.