There are some things that are constants in the universe. They are the things that never seem to change, and by their stable nature, they make a person feel safe and secure in their life and their environment. Things that just will be, simply because that is how they have always been.

Such things are usually simple things. For example, one can always know that the sun will rise every morning and that it will always rise in the east and set in the west. Flowers will bloom in spring. Water will always be wet. The grocery will always have chocolate when one is depressed and in need of comfort food. Things of that nature.

Ginny Weasley had always relied on such things, although she'd never put much thought into them. The universe had an order to it that did not need to be questioned. Or at least that's what she had always assumed until the day she returned home after nearly a year away, only to find that the rules of the universe had apparently changed in her absence.

For the average person, the change that vexed her so thoroughly would likely be considered inconsequential to most people. But to Ginny and the world which she'd known all her nineteen years, it was a travesty of epic proportions.

She returned home, after her first season with the HolyHead Harpies to find that Ronald Weasley and Draco Malfoy had become the best of friends.

Now, to most, that might not seem to be an entirely earth-shattering revelation, but in Ginny Weasley's well-ordered universe, there were certain things that she had come to expect. For example, she expected to return home to have her mother dote on her and cook dinner, the twins would pull a never-ending array of pranks, Percy would lecture about mundane Ministry laws, Ron's best friends would be Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, and any mention of the name Malfoy would include an assorted colorful insult, such as Git, Ferret, or the like.

True, she'd been away for a long time, and some change could be expected, but change of such drastic nature should take millenia, not months, in her opinion.

Seeing the pair together was not only wrong, but the very idea vexed her to the very core of her being. The moment couldn't have been more shocking. She'd been sitting in the kitchen, helping her mother prepare the aforementioned dinner, when the pair saunter in together, laughing and joking as if they were best mates. For a moment, she thought that she was imagining things. Then, she concluded that George had probably polyjuiced himself and was playing a prank on her. After she'd found out that, indeed, it was not a prank, nor was she hallucinating, she started thinking that Ron had lost his mind. That seemed the most reasonable explanation.

What made the situation seem even more implausible was that everyone at the dinner table seemed to think that it was perfectly normal for the pair to just pop in, talking about girls and food and Quidditch as if it was something that normal people did.

In fact, the concept was so completely ludicrous that she started to think that, perhaps, most of her family had gone utterly and completely mad. Unfortunately, all her efforts to point out that obvious fact fell on deaf ears.

But, if Ginny knew one thing that was constant about herself, was that she was loyal and loved Ron dearly, so she immediately set her stubborn sights on setting her poor, obviously Confunded brother back on the right path. After deciding on taking a direct approach, since Ron was notoriously thick when it came to any type of subtle hint, she pulled him aside after dinner and presented a long, relatively calm and persuasive argument in which she pointed out every Malfoy fault in the history of her once-stable universe.

When she finished, she breathed a long sigh of relief to see that Ron didn't seem to be losing his temper in the slightest. In fact, he looked at her with affection, and she fully expected that he was going to thank her for setting him straight. She smiled back at him with equal affection. That was when it became worse, if that was at all possible.

He threw an arm over her shoulder and responded in a tone that was just a bit too relaxed and cheerful to sound like her brother, “I want you to get to know him, Gin. He's really not a bad guy.”

She pulled away, glaring at him angrily. “Have you gone completely bonkers?” She waved her arm frantically in the direction that the blond had just left. “He's Malfoy, Ron. The biggest git ever to walk the halls of Hogwarts! What would Harry say? How does Hermione feel about this?”

Ron's cheerful expression immediately changed to anger, and a touch of hurt. “Harry has been locked away in Auror training and hasn't written since July. Hermione couldn't wait to start work on her University studies over the summer and her letters only tell me how worried she is about her next exam.”

Ginny's anger dissipated, if only for a moment, and she felt some sympathy for her brother. His friends had become completely preoccupied with pursuing their new careers, leaving poor Ron alone and confused. “Have you even told them?” she asked.

“That I've got a new best mate?” Ron shook his head dismissively. “None of their business, I suspect.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “I can't believe this. You are mad at the two of them for going off to school to work on their careers, so you decided to get back at them by befriending their worst enemy?”

His face reddened with anger. “You're one to talk, Gin. You've been off with the Harpies training for the past six months and you haven't even bothered to send an owl. All I got to see of you was when you waved to the crowd after a match.”

“So, you are doing this to get back at all of us, Ron? How could you?”

He crossed his arms and glared at her. “I'm free to see whoever I please.”

Matching his stance, she crossed her arms and glared back. “Well, I don't have to be nice to him.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

x – x - x

And that was how it started. But Ginny knew that she was nothing if not stubborn and determined. Her next plan of action was to threaten Ron by telling him that she was going to write to Harry and Hermione, and she did, although she elected to only state that they needed to pay more attention to Ron, because she didn't quite know how to put frighteningly bad news into words.

She did get a polite letter back from Hermione a few days later that expressed sympathy that Ron was being his usual self, and how sorry she was that she couldn't be around to help. The next two pages were filled with advice to Ginny about how to deal with Ron's personality type, a list of books on family interrelationships, and a quiz that might help with building conversation between Ginny and her brother.

Harry's letter was a bit shorter, although he did express profound apologies for not writing to her more frequently and, based on the tone of his letter, he considered all her complaints about Ron to be some sort of joke that was intended to keep his spirits up.

She tossed both letters on her desk, then dropped down on her bed, giving a dramatic sigh. It was no wonder that Ron had turned his attention elsewhere.

But still, she wondered, couldn't he find a better companion than The Great Blond Git?

She blamed herself, of course. Perhaps, if she'd made more time to see her family since finishing school, she might have prevented this travesty, but she'd been so enthralled with getting a contract with the Harpies that she'd gotten a bit carried away with her new career playing professional Quidditch. She'd run off and started training with the team immediately after leaving Hogwarts.

Clearly, she had been remiss in her family duties, specifically, the part where she was supposed to keep Ron out of trouble. During all those years in Hogwarts, everyone thought it was the other way around, but really, she knew that Ron was socially hopeless without her or his friends.

But Ginny was nothing if not loyal.

Obviously, whatever had happened to her brother was a horrible mistake. Now that the cold weather had arrived and the Quidditch season was over, she had a full four months of time to set things straight.

Unfortunately, over the following few days, her muttering and ranting about the house did her no good. Her mother had actually taken a liking to the aforementioned Git. The Weasley matriarch soon demanded that Ginny stop her endless complaining about the “situation,” as Ginny now called Ron's unusual friendship, and declared that Ginny needed to get out of the house. In a tone that left no room for argument, Ginny was ordered to get herself a job to occupy herself during the Quidditch off-season and get her mind onto something other than her brother's social life.

“Hmmph,” was Ginny's exasperated reply as she turned, her ponytail swinging behind her as she stomped up the stairs, feeling much like she'd just been scolded like a belligerent eight-year-old.

The day after her mother's orders, Ginny found herself in her brothers' joke shop, stocking shelves for the Christmas season and attempting to avoid being used as a test subject for the foul-smelling potion that they had brewing in the back room.

While the concern about the potion did have some distracting benefits, Ginny still found herself thinking far too much about the mental health of her brother. The fact that he had gone out with “the Git” the previous evening and had returned home, slightly intoxicated and mumbling to Malfoy, who was also intoxicated, about some pretty blond girl that they'd encountered, had left her fuming. She couldn't help herself. They'd stumbled in together, arms about each other's shoulders, just a bit too jovially.

The bell to the shop tinkled, signaling the entrance of another customer. She ignored the sound and continued with her stacking, since the twins had requested that Ginny leave the customer interaction to them, and they were quite blunt about telling her that they didn't want her unusually cranky attitude to frighten anybody off. Of course, she'd denied the accusation vehemently, but it did no good and the twins merely laughed, ruffled her hair and sent her to the stockroom.

It was just another reason for her to feel all the more cranky and irritated over it all.

It was a never-ending downward spiral. And it was all Malfoy's fault.

Giving yet another huff of annoyance, she climbed up a few steps of her ladder and shoved a box of Super-exploding snap cards onto the shelf and looked about to see what other items in that section needed restocking. That's when she heard Ron's laugh come from the far side of the store, making her pause and wrinkle her brow in frustration. He was always laughing, it seemed. In fact, she'd never known him to be so carefree and happy. The twins even seemed to be much more happy to have him around.

Her brow wrinkled further.

Now that she thought back on it. In the past, the twins had always enjoyed having Ginny stop by the shop, and they'd joke and laugh with her, usually while Ron was off on the side grumbling about something or other. A horrifying epiphany then occurred to her: Ron and she had switched places as the twins' favorite little sibling!

She gripped the handrail of the ladder with unnecessary force and fumed.

Then, she felt a prickle on the back of her neck, as if she was being watched. Turning slowly and looking down, she saw the “Git” looking up at her with a rather too-broad smile on his face.

“Need a hand, little Weasley?” he said in a friendly manner.

That tone was just wrong, coming from his mouth.

And, had he just been ogling her backside?

Stepping down off the ladder, she grabbed another few boxes from her cart and turned back to the ladder, hesitating about climbing up again and giving the Git another view of her bum.

“I'm doing quite well on my own,” she said snappily, before swallowing her pride and climbing up the ladder, angrily shoving the boxes into their proper locations with a bit too much enthusiasm. In fact, she rammed the third box into place with so much force that she tumbled back on the narrow ladder, losing her footing on the thing. With her left arm holding the extra boxes and her right arm still holding the item that she was shoving onto the shelf, she had nothing left to hold onto the ladder and the force of her shove pushed her body backwards.

She tumbled off the ladder, arms flailing, boxes flying haphazardly in every direction, all while giving a loud, involuntary shriek, alerting the entire store to her predicament. The spare boxes in her left arm flew out across the aisle and she gave an impressive curse as she fell free of the ladder, expecting her bum to contact the ground in an extremely unpleasant manner. Granted, it was only a few feet, but it was high enough to promise a painful landing, nonetheless.

The hard impact failed to occur, however, because someone seemed to reach out of nowhere, catching her before she hit the ground. She found herself in a rather nice, strong pair of arms, holding her bridal style, and she instinctively turned, wrapping her arms around the shoulders of her rescuer.

It only took a moment to realize that her hero was none other than the Git who had caused her mishap in the first place. Looking up, she saw a pair of intense gray eyes staring back at her. He was smiling, and the laughter reached those eyes, making them shine with a quicksilver intensity.

“Good heavens, Weasley, with grace like that, how do you manage to keep on a broom during a match?”

She wanted to strike him, except both her arms were wrapped around his shoulders. Rather broad shoulders, she noted. She felt her chest heave and felt her breath quicken, part of it from the adrenaline of her near accident and part from simple fury, although if it was from his remark, the fact that he made her fall or that he had the gall to be holding her in this rather suggestive and inappropriate manner, she could not tell.

“Put me down!” she stated, somewhat inelegantly.

At that moment, her three brothers arrived to see about the commotion.

“Look what Malfoy caught!” Fred remarked with an annoyingly impish grin.

Ginny seethed. Giving her brother a glare, she then turned to the blond who was holding her. “You can put me down now,” she commanded.

Nodding his head graciously, he complied giving her a grin that was just a tad too cheerful.

As soon as her feet touched the floor, she stepped away from her rescuer as if he was something distasteful and brushed her clothing off, as if it had been dirtied by coming in contact with him.

Ron clapped his friend on the back. “Good job, mate,” he said. “If she got injured, Mum never would have let us hear the end of it.”

She scowled at her brothers over the remark, not failing to observe that they had completely ignored her discomfort over the situation.

Later that evening, the story of Ginny's near accident and her “gallant” rescuer did reach her mother's ears, of course, and Ginny had to spend most of dinner hearing the boys recount it. As was their usual style, the twins embellished it a bit and Malfoy got himself an extra large helping of dessert.

Knowing she wasn't going to win any argument, Ginny simply leaned forward, put her elbow on the table in a stereotypical sulking position, and pouted while she ate her meal. If this continued, she was going to have a very long four months.

For two days, Ginny sulked, suffering from far too much enthusiastic ribbing from the twins as she worked. They had the gall to insinuate that she'd enjoyed her little mishap with Malfoy, and it took all her will to not hex them – only because, if she did, her mother would have a royal fit.

With no support in her quest to eradicate the Malfoy from her family's lives, she had no choice but to pretend to acquiesce. It wasn't easy. Mostly, it involved hiding whenever Ron and the Git were in the area, but she was well-aware that she couldn't avoid her brother forever.

The problem was that she just couldn't come to terms with how much her brother had changed in the past year. She understood that Ron had probably needed companionship while his best friends were preoccupied. What she couldn't understand was why he hadn't found someone more suitable than Malfoy to share his interests.

After sulking and considering things for a few days, the Ministry Christmas Party or, more precisely, the morning after the Christmas Party, presented her with the ideal opportunity to once again try to come to some sort of truce with her brother.

Ginny took a peek out the window to see Ron sitting on the front porch and returned to the simmering cauldron on the stove. After adding the last few ingredients, and verifying that it had turned the proper color, she poured a measured amount into a chipped coffee mug.

Carrying the cup out to the porch, she sat down wearily next to her brother, who currently had his face buried in his hands.

“Must you sit down so loudly?” he whined.

He was pathetic, and it was definitely one of his more endearing traits. She chuckled softly. “Oh, shush and drink this,” she said, smiling and handing him the cup.

He sniffed the contents with obvious revulsion. “Are you trying to kill me?”

She shrugged. The thought had crossed her mind over the past few days, but even she couldn't be quite so vengeful. “Hangover remedy,” she responded. “Best recipe ever. The whole team swears by it.”

He looked at her, obviously dubious. “You drink this stuff?”

“Only when I have to,” she replied with a small blush of embarrassment. “The Harpies had quite a binge right after beating Puddlemere in the first round of the finals. None of us would have made it to practice the next day if it wasn't for that stuff.”

He nodded, considered the cup for a moment, then put his hand to his head. Looking at the cup again, he apparently decided that any help for the hangover was worth the risk. “Well, then, I guess it's worth a try,” he muttered before taking a deep breath and swallowing the contents in one large gulp. “Yuck!” he exclaimed, contorting his face in an expression of obvious disgust. “That better work, or I'd guess that you're pulling the most horrible prank ever.”

She laughed. “I wish I had a camera right now. The expression on your face is priceless.”

He groaned and buried his head in his hands. Then, he lifted his head, looked around and blinked. “Merlin's pants, Gin. I think it worked. I feel a lot better already.”

A huge grin spread over her face. “Always listen to your sister.”

“How's Malfoy doing?” he asked.

Her grin dropped noticeably. “Better than you, apparently. He seemed perfectly fine when he dropped you off last night. He said goodnight to Mum and left by floo right after we hauled you upstairs.”

Ron appeared not to notice her reaction to the mention of Malfoy. “Annoying git,” he said with affection. “He always could drink more than me. Goads me into having more, too, then usually makes sure to call me early the day after to laugh at my pain. I've yet to see him completely pissed. The twins think it's hilarious.”

“Ron...” she said, her voice giving a hint of getting ready for a lecture, then she paused.

“Gin...” he echoed.

She took a deep breath. “Why Ron? Why do you hang out with him?”

He paused, appearing contrite, as he pondered her question. “I dunno. He just sort of grew on me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Sure, he grows on you. Maybe like a fungus.” she said, only half-joking. “Seriously, Ron, how did this happen?”

He sighed and looked out over the frozen garden, apparently reluctant to answer her question. “It's a long story.”

“Well, I'm listening.”

He was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Then he turned to her, his expression open and honest. “It was pretty quiet here all last winter,” he said slowly. “With Harry and Hermione off studying all the time, and you gone, and everyone else moved away, and work and all.”

Ginny remembered when Ron had elected not to finish his seventh year at Hogwarts, and she had returned to complete her schooling alone. At the time, Ron had claimed that going back at the age of nineteen just seemed too strange but, secretly, Ginny had always suspected that the real reason her brother didn't finish school was because he didn't want to be there without his two best friends.

Ron had spent that year working as an intern at the Ministry, helping to file and clean up much of the administrative mess that had been left after Voldemort's regime fell. Harry and Hermione had chosen to study independently to finish their NEWTs, so Ron had been left much on his own for quite a long time.

Ron looked off into the distance, seeming a bit sad. “Then, Harry and Hermione each went off to school to focus on their careers, and everything seemed so different.”

She nodded, trying to understand. Ron likely had likely never been alone at the Burrow in his life and she felt bad that she hadn't been more attentive while she'd been off at school. Then, after she'd joined the Harpies, she'd barely had any contact with anyone in her family because she was so engrossed in her new, exciting life. She sighed. “You missed them. I'm so sorry.”

Ron shrugged and looked at his hands. “It was that, a little. I mean it's the best for them, both going off to follow their dreams and all. I just didn't have any plans, so it felt a bit out of place to bother them all the time while they were busy.” He turned to her. “Then, when you got the contract with the Harpies, I was so happy for you, Gin.” He smiled at her then, and his expression was so full of love and pride that she felt herself get warm, despite the chilly winter air.

“Thanks, Ron.”

“I went to your first match, you know,” he said with a sly smile, nudging her shoulder with his own.

“You did? Why didn't you tell me? I could have gotten you a seat for free!”

He shook his head, turning and looking out over the garden, slightly embarrassed. “I didn't want you to know I was there. Was worried that you'd get nervous or that I'd jinx you somehow.”

She laughed again. It warmed her heart to know that someone who cared about her had been there. “We lost that match, Ron.”

“Yeah, but you scored sixty points, Gin. Sixty! I've never been so proud of you in my entire life.”

She blushed a bit more under her beloved brother's praise. “Well I'm glad I didn't disappoint.”

“No, not at all. I had one of the best seats in the house for it, too. That's how I met up with Malfoy,” he said.

Her joy fell just a bit. Really. “Malfoy was there?”

“Oi, yeah,” he said, a fond smile coming to his face. “We both happened to be up in the box seats, right at the center of the pitch. I wasn't happy to see him, of course, but I didn't want to get into an argument. I'd just spent a huge amount of money for the ticket and the last thing I wanted was to get tossed out and miss seeing you play. So, I kind of ignored him. I was pretty shocked when he brought me an ale and thanked me for Harry and me saving his sorry arse during the battle.”

“He thanked you?”

“Shocked me so much that I almost forgot to watch the start of the match!” he said with a smile. “He didn't talk after that, which was all right by me, and I sort of tried to forget he was there for a bit.” Then, he looked at her a bit sheepishly. “We eventually started making comments about the match. He even complimented you playing, Then, we bought each other a few more rounds and, by the end of the match, we were almost civil to each other.”

She frowned again. Of all the things. No wonder he hadn't told her about being there.

“I thought that would be the end of it,” he said. “But, then, a few days later I ran into him in front of the Quidditch Supply store and we started grumbling to each other about how we never got to play anymore, what with you gone, Harry gone, and Fred and George preoccupied with the shop, I hadn't had a chance to really fly for months. He invited me to practice some one-on-one after work and I thought it might be fun to beat on him a bit.”

Ginny said nothing, just nodded for him to continue.

“Well, he showed up, didn't talk much, and we had an all right time of it. So, I asked him if he might want to play once or twice a week and, after a week or two, we started talking about trivial things after we were done.”

Ron gave a grin, thinking of the memory. “Then, next thing you know, he came here for a Sunday scrimmage with the twins and Mum invited him to stay for dinner. I was surprised when he accepted. Figured he was going to make some sort of insulting comment about Mum or her cooking, but he was fine. The only thing I found odd was that he didn't talk about anything at Hogwarts when Mum brought it up. He just looked kind of sad.”

Ginny gave her brother a dubious look. “So, he was like a lost puppy that you all took in?”

Ron shrugged. “I suppose. Well, the four of us started playing a scrimmage game once a week. The twins kind of took a liking to him, and he even started to laugh a bit. We were both working at the Ministry, so then it just seemed normal to go out after work once in a while, have some laughs, you know?”

His expression turned thoughtful, and he looked at his sister seriously. “He was different, Gin. More quiet. We talked about a lot of things, mostly work and such, but he'd make remarks once in a while about regrets he had in his past. He stayed away from saying anything bad about Harry and Hermione too, until I was grumbling about them one day for being so absorbed in their own little worlds that they've forgotten about all of us here.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “What did he say?”

“He said that Harry needs to step back and see the big picture. The world isn't always black and white.”

She watched her brother chuckle and realized that he really did seem to trust his former adversary. It still bothered her, but she had to trust that her brother had his reasons. She kept quiet and continued to listen.

“We had a good talk that day, over a few pints, and I finally learned a bit about why he hated Harry so much in school. When you look at how Harry was seen from outside of Gryffindor, he really did seem like he was treated special. Dumbledore really did bend quite a few rules for Harry and me and Hermione over the years.”

“It doesn't explain why he hated you and every other Weasley he came across, though.”

Ron shrugged. “No, it doesn't. But, as Mum and Dad said, you can't put blame on things people do as children. He was echoing what he heard his father say at home. Eventually, he started to realize that his father wasn't always right, especially about Voldemort.”

“But, why you, Ron? Why is he attaching himself to you? Don't you think he could find someone else to pal around with?”

“I don't think so, Gin. He's in an awkward spot, with a lot of his former friends spending time in Azkaban now. I don't think he trusts many people after everything that's happened. Mum says he and I have been a good influence on each other.”

It was difficult to argue. Malfoy had been around for months, and Ron seemed to be completely loyal to him. If her mother approved, then at least Ginny had some assurance that Ron wasn't being taken in. She worried that Malfoy was using her brother, but she understood that it was unlikely that Malfoy had completely fooled her mother and the twins, who also seemed to be taken with the blond. She decided not to press the matter further and let the situation play out. The best thing she could do was keep on her guard and watch out for her brother in case things turned out badly.


She stood up. “Well, I better be going. The train from Hogwarts got in two days ago for the Christmas hols, so the shop is even busier than usual. Fred and George will hang me if get in to work late.”

Ron grinned. “That's why I'm glad I have the position at the Ministry. The twins are slave drivers, I tell you.”

She nodded and raced off to grab her cloak, happy that, although she and Ron might not be entirely in agreement, at least they'd reached some sort of understanding.

X

While Ginny had extended the olive branch of peace to her beloved brother, she still felt a compulsive urge to not extend any indication of friendship toward Ron's new best mate. It was just wrong at the most basic of levels.

When Malfoy came about, the best she could do was try to ignore him. Unfortunately, he seemed to take great delight in testing her resolve. It was a constant battle of wills which the rest of the family seemed to find amusing.

What annoyed Ginny the most, however, was the blond's unending cheerful demeanor. It just wasn't right to see her brother's former adversary so very happy – in her own home, no less. Worse, it seemed he was at the Weasley home far too often.

And, to her great dismay, he somehow managed to appear on their doorstep on Christmas morning, holding a bottle of wine and a beautifully wrapped package for Molly Weasley. It was simple bribery, in Ginny's view, but before she could properly protest – and she had already taken a lungful of air and opened her mouth in preparation to do so - a heavy hand descended on her shoulder. She looked up to see her father, giving her a stern expression that he usually only reserved for the twins.

“Doesn't he have his own home to go to?” she whispered to Ron with irritation after Malfoy managed to slip a joke cracker in her stocking, which exploded in her face, covering her with an extensive amount of glitter.

Ron stopped laughing to lean over, his voice dropping to a low tone so that the conversation remained private. “His parents are traveling. After spending time in Azkaban, his father prefers to be in warmer climates, and his mother feels that being on extended holiday makes it easier for the both of them to stay out of the public eye,” he informed her. “When Mum found out that Malfoy was going to be alone on Christmas, she insisted he come over.”

Ginny scowled, her fingers tugging vast amounts of glitter from her hair. “But does he have to be so... annoying?”

Ron chuckled. “C'mon, Gin. It's no worse than anything the twins have pulled in the past. Maybe he likes you.”

“He likes seeing me humiliated. And, for the record, the twins always pulled this kind of stuff on Percy, or you. I was always the one who was sitting on the side having a good laugh.”

She looked over to see George clapping Malfoy on the shoulder, both still in the midst of merriment over Ginny's misfortune. “Good one, mate!” he said. “Simple, but effective.”

Malfoy, still laughing, looked up at her, joy sparkling in his eyes, although, to his credit, he did shrug slightly and give her an apologetic look. She scowled at him, but the venom that she wanted to convey in the glance somehow fell short. It was impossible to truly be angry with him when the look of happiness on his face was so apparent. In that moment, she found him to be quite handsome, a thought which bothered her greatly.

Feeling the need to exit the area, she stood and brushed herself off, grateful that she had an excuse to leave before the bothersome feeling of attraction took hold. “Well, I've got to clean up now, and I suppose I'll help Mum in the kitchen.” Turning to the twins, she added, “Please don't blow anything up this year. I hate having to clean up after you.”

As she turned to step out of the room, Ron asked hopefully, “Backyard Quidditch after dinner, Sis?”

Immediately, thoughts of using her skills to humble Malfoy brought an evil gleam to her eye. “Only if I get Bill on my team,” she replied.

In the end, Ginny's Christmas was a total failure when she, Bill, Fleur and Charley lost soundly to Ron, Malfoy and the twins. She wondered if her ego was ever going to recover.

The week after Christmas was relatively peaceful for Ginny. The days passed relatively Malfoy-free, and she was glad of it. Apparently, the prat had gone off to visit his parents for a few days, and Ginny was able to finally feel as if her life was returning to normal.

With the Christmas rush at the joke shop finally over, Ginny had made firm plans to enjoy a day off, and her primary objective was to lie about the house doing as little as possible.

Making herself a nice cup of hot chocolate, she settled down in her favorite chair and opened up a trashy romance novel that she'd been looking forward to reading. It was an almost a perfect day. Almost. That was, until Ron entered the room. “Please, Ginny...” he whined. Again.

She'd been attempting to ignore him for the entire morning, but it seemed that Ron had taken it upon himself to annoy the living daylights out of her.

Keeping her nose firmly planted in her book, she responded firmly, “I said 'No,' Ronald! Now, leave me be or I will petrify you and leave you out in the garden with the gnomes.”

She was at her wit's end. The day after Christmas, he'd gone out with Malfoy and, ever since, had been going on about some blonde girl that he'd met. Apparently, she was still a student at Hogwarts and was friendly with stupid Malfoy.

“Everybody goes out to celebrate New Year's Eve,” he informed her, totally ignoring her threat and attempting to sound persuasive.

Snapping her book shut, she looked at him fully. “Well, I don't! And even if I wanted to, I would prefer company other than Malfoy and his friends.”

The problem was that Esteria, or whatever her name was, would be going back to school after the holidays were over. Apparently, going out on New Year's Eve was Ron's perfect opportunity to see the girl again. It was positively sickening.

In an attempt to bring her brother back to sanity, Ginny had resorted to bringing up the subject of Hermione, but at the mere mention of the book-loving brunette, Ron had looked positively downtrodden. Hermione's first, and utmost, love was her books. She'd hardly taken the time to even write to Ron after she'd gone to university. It was one of the reasons that her poor brother had turned to new friends, and now, he'd taken interest in this new girl.

“But, Ginny,” he whined. “It would just be weird if it was just Malfoy and me. If he and I go with Astoria and her sister and it would look like a double date, or a set up, or something.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ron, it is a set up. You asked Malfoy to invite her so you could chat her up.”

Ron plopped down on the ottoman in front of Ginny's comfortable chair, giving Ginny every reason to believe that she'd never get to curl up with her book if she didn't give in to her brother's request. She sighed.

He looked at her with big, puppy-dog eyes. “Please, Gin. Daphne is a friend of his. If you go too, then it will be more like a group just going out.”

“If you really like this girl, Asteria...”

“Astoria,” Ron corrected.

“Ast-or-ia,” Ginny repeated, with emphasis on the second syllable. “Then just ask her to dinner. Alone.”

He looked at her as if she'd said something completely mental. He stammered, “I ... I couldn't do that!”

She dropped her head into her hands. Her brother was completely hopeless with women. He always had been, as his years of frustration with Hermione had proven. Not moving her head from her hands, she asked, “Good heavens, Ronald, why not?”

“She's still in school! I mean, seventh year and all, so she's of age, but I'd look like some sort of a perv!”

Still keeping her hands over her face to hide her exasperation, she lifted her head slightly and peered at her brother through her fingers. “You have got to be kidding me.”

He just looked so very lost. Here he was, besotted with a girl, which was probably a good thing because at least it might distract him from spending so much time with Malfoy, and Ginny felt like she'd be a horrible sister if she didn't at least try to go and help him out.

She groaned.

X – x - X


On New Year's Eve, the group of five entered the Purple Raven well before the majority of revelers, mostly because Ron was so eager to start the evening as early as possible, and Malfoy seemed to find that amusing. The official excuse for starting obscenely early was that Astoria needed to get home so that she could prepare for her return to school.

The two sisters, Daphne and Astoria Greengrass, had been longtime friends of Malfoy and seemed pleasant enough during the introductions. Ron, upon seeing the younger sister, managed to drop his mouth open and take on the expression of a lovesick Niffler. Ginny, being the loyal sibling, smiled politely to each of the girls, trying to keep Astoria distracted so that Ron could compose himself appropriately. However, she did catch the older sister, Daphne, giving Ron an amused smile during the interaction.

Ginny had to admit that Ron had rather good taste. Astoria was short, on the slightly plump side, although quite curvy, with honey blond hair and china blue eyes, reminding Ginny of a porcelain doll. She had a pleasant smile and seemed to be somewhat quiet in nature. Ginny found that she rather liked the girl, although she would not mention to Ron that Astoria's body type was eerily similar to their mother's.

Her sister Daphne, in contrast, was tall, with a perfect figure and far more confident and talkative than her younger sister. She was obviously very knowledgeable about the most current of fashion trends, based on her perfectly coordinated attire but, most notably, her eyes showed a level of openness and blunt honesty that Ginny hadn't expected.

The tall, blonde witch was easily the most attractive woman in the room, and it came to no surprise to learn that she was doing modeling and was soon going to be seen in several ads in popular periodicals. Still, she was rather likeable, especially when, almost immediately after the initial salutations had been made, the girl turned to Draco and chastised him in much the same way Ginny might speak to any of her brothers.

“Honestly, Draco, where have your manners gone? We've been here a full five minutes and you haven't asked any of us what we'd like to drink.”

Ginny bit back a small smile at Malfoy's reaction. He first looked surprised, then a bit abashed, before straightening himself up and giving Daphne a look of annoyance. Before he could respond, however, she continued to speak, obviously accustomed to putting him in his place. “I'd love a gin and tonic,” she instructed with absolute authority. Then, she turned back to Ginny with a smug grin. “Ginny, Astoria, would either of you like something?”

Malfoy pouted at being commanded in such a way, but obediently complied. Then, having gotten the orders, he turned toward the bar, Ron following him. Ginny bit back a smile, deciding that, if Daphne was going to continue to harass Malfoy in such a blatant manner, the evening might be a bit more fun than she'd initially anticipated.

After watching the wizards retreat, Ginny turned to the blonde. “So, are you and Malfoy …?” she began to ask, implying that Daphne and he might be an item.

Daphne looked taken aback, then she and Astoria laughed together at the insinuation. “Me and Dray? Oh, Merlin, no! Astoria, on the other hand ...” she said, winking devilishly at her little sister.

The younger girl blushed furiously, appearing a bit panicked. “Daphne! No! You promised not to bring that up!” Astoria looked at Ginny rather sheepishly. “She never fails to embarrass me with the fact that I had a crush on him when I was about eleven.”

Ginny had to smile at that. She decided to try to put the younger girl at ease, despite the fact that she clearly had questionable tastes, and wondering if that would bode badly for Ron's attempts at wooing her. “I can say I completely understand having a childhood crush. You can't fault yourself for what you think when you're that young,” she said kindly, recalling her own embarrassing memories concerning Harry. However, she couldn't imagine anyone seeing Malfoy in a similar way, especially remembering how he'd ridiculed Ginny over her note to Harry all those years ago.

But she was distracted from those unkind thoughts when Daphne grinned at her sister, an affectionate gleam in her eye. “We've been friends with Dray since I was five, and I can't blame Tori for adoring him. He always looked out for her."

Astoria nodded, still seeming nervous and shy, and Ginny began to understand her brother's attraction to the girl.

The boys returned at that moment with the drinks, although when Draco handed one to Daphne he had a bit of a sour look on his face. “Remind me again why we're friends?” he asked the tall blonde.

“Because, if it weren't for me putting you in your place, you'd be an insufferable prat,” she responded, quite seriously.

Unfortunately, Ginny had just taken a sip of her own beverage, and nearly spat it out because of an uncontrollable laugh.

After that, the small group seemed to get along well enough, and Ron eventually worked up enough nerve to get into a conversation with Astoria. Ginny found she was having an enjoyable time, although she did credit the drinks for helping her ease into the conversation more readily.

Most of the topics were neutral enough, although somehow, Malfoy managed to bring up Ginny's incident in the joke shop and, worse, he also colorfully embellished it to make the group laugh. Ginny simply glowered, knowing that she couldn't hex him in full public view. Ron and Daphne managed to chide her about having a secret attraction, causing her to furiously glare at Malfoy for mentioning the story. The annoying prat winked at her in response to the comment, causing her blush to deepen and she glared at him with no small amount of irritation.

Annoyingly, Malfoy continued to wink at her as the evening progressed, repeatedly making her blush, although with less fury than before. Every so often, Ron would catch him doing it and would laugh heartily. "Mate, you gotta quit flirting with my sister."

Draco just laughed in return. "Yeah, but it's so much fun." Then, he looked at Ron with mock-seriousness, saying in a stage whisper, "You aren't going to be the over-protective big brother and hit me, are you?"

Ron snorted. "Ha! You wish! It's not me you need to be worried about, mate. It's her. The girl will hex you into next week if you don't watch it."

Ginny crossed her arms and stared fiercely at her brother, tapping her foot.

"Careful, sis, you look like Mum when you stand like that."

She stopped, looked down at herself and realized, with no small amount of horror, that she was in the exact pose their mother always used when she was annoyed with any of them. The others broke into laughter and she gave up, throwing her hands into the air in defeat, which made them all laugh even harder, and she felt a small smile come to her lips. The humor was good-natured and she couldn't help but join in, even if Malfoy had been the person to initiate it. He'd been quite tolerable for the entire evening and, she had to admit, she could see that he was good company for her brother. His two female friends were acceptable also. Looking down at her drink on the shelf next to her, she decided that the alcohol probably was a factor in her evaluation, but she didn't let that stop her good mood.

Perhaps joining them for the evening hadn't been such a horrible idea after all.

With the men both seeming to be in a light discussion with Astoria, Ginny turned toward Daphne and their conversation focused on mostly trivial subjects, although she did find out that Daphne had been secretly dating Timothy Spinnet, a chaser for the Chudley Cannons. Apparently, Daphne's closest friends seemed to strongly dislike the Cannons, hence why she hadn't had the nerve to bring her new relationship out in the open just yet.

"You do know that Ron's favorite team has always been the Cannons, don't you?" Ginny said conspiratorially.

Daphne's eyes widened. "Oh, please don't say anything! If Ron finds out he'll tell Draco and then I'll never hear the end of it."

Ginny laughed, realizing that she was honestly beginning to like the pretty blonde. "I promise, but I suppose that they'll eventually find out if you keep seeing him."

"I suppose, but I'd just rather wait until I've determined how serious this might be. After all, it could just be a fling, and I'd hate to have to listen to Dray complain if it's just going to be over and done in a few months."

"Draco's that bad?" Ginny asked, her eyes narrowing in the direction of the blond. Not that Draco being a bother was the least bit surprising, but Ginny was curious about any negative details.

"Oh goodness, yes!” Daphne replied. “But I think he's just trying to be protective sometimes. He always has been very loyal to the people he loves."

Ginny gave a small snort, but tried to hide it by taking another sip of her drink. "I never pictured him as loyal."

The other girl looked at her with some speculation and Ginny suddenly realized that she might have offended Daphne by openly implying how much she disliked the girl's friend. After a moment of looking at Ginny sternly, Daphne finally said, "I like you, Ginny, and I can see that your brother has been a good friend to Dray, so I'll tell you something that I wouldn't normally share. Draco has never had many friends."

Somehow, that statement didn't surprise Ginny in the least.

Daphne looked at her and seemed to understand what she was thinking, and she continued, "He is an only child and his family has power and money. A lot of people look to exploit that. They do it with false pleasantries, outright lies and treachery. Even Voldemort used him and his family in the worst possible ways and they nearly died because of it. Draco does not trust easily, and with good reason, but when he does care for someone, he'll do anything to protect them, which was why, when Voldemort threatened to murder his mother and leave his father in Azkaban, he was willing to try to kill Dumbledore, even though he honestly thought he'd die in the process."

Ginny sucked in a breath. Professor Dumbledore's death was something that she tried to avoid talking about, yet this girl defended the prat who had been instrumental in it. She bit her lip. Daphne had suddenly given her a lot to think about.

Daphne ignored Ginny's reaction and finished her drink, then looked back up, giving Ginny a bright smile. "Now, you know where I stand," she said. "But we are here to have a good time, so let's get the boys to refill our drinks and enjoy ourselves, yeah?"

In that instant, Ginny fully knew that she liked Daphne. She still didn't care much for Malfoy, but she could totally appreciate the girl's upfront honesty.

An hour before midnight, Ginny was thinking of leaving. She'd had a good time, but staying for the actual midnight celebration was something that couples tended to do, and she was getting tired. The evening had turned out better than she'd expected and Ron seemed to be happily chatting with Astoria, so she really had no reason to remain.

She was just about to bid a goodnight to everyone, when she saw Draco suddenly freeze in place, staring at the door for several seconds, before throwing back the remains of his drink in one quick gulp.

"I'm going to the bar," he said angrily, and departed without any acknowledgment from the others.

"Oi, what happened there. Did I say something wrong?" Ron asked, half-jokingly, but clearly confused.

Then, Daphne looked in the direction that had caught the blond man's attention, and her mouth dropped open slightly. "Oh, no," she said with concern.

"What?" Ron asked, and they all followed her gaze.

Near the entrance, Pansy Parkinson, dressed in a scandalous, and obviously expensive outfit, was making an entrance, hanging off the arm of a tall, dark-haired, older wizard.

"What?" Ginny asked, obviously not impressed with the witch. "Parkinson?"

Daphne narrowed her eyes at the woman for a second, then looked away. "Don't pay her too much attention. That's what she wants."

They all looked away quickly, each trying to appear inconspicuous about it, although, as a group, it probably was more than obvious. Ginny spared a glance over at the bar to see Draco downing a shot of whiskey and ordering two more.

"She and Draco were an item back in school," Ron informed Ginny, although Ginny had been well-aware of that. They had been one of the more obvious couples back then, usually because Pansy had always been dressed so garishly that it was impossible not to notice her, and she had always been attached to Draco as if she was a magnet.

"I take it you don't like her," Ginny said, and she heard Ron snort. She was quite certain that her brother hated the witch with his entire being.

Daphne tried to look cool, but Ginny could see anger in the older girl's eyes. "She took his heart and ripped it to pieces. I thought he was over it, but I guess not."

Astoria, trying to sound helpful, added, "She cheated on him behind his back the whole time they were together. Then, she goaded Crabbe into using FiendFyre during the final battle. I hear that's why he died ..."

"Enough!" Daphne said sharply to interrupt her sister, making the younger girl jump. "This isn't the time or the place to talk about that."

So, Ginny thought, that explained why he was joking with Ron about remaining single. Malfoy and Parkinson had always looked like the perfect, evil couple, although it didn't surprise Ginny in the least to hear that Parkinson had been a tramp.

They looked over at the bar and Draco was retuning with two drinks, one of which he finished before reaching them. He had already been drinking all evening with the rest of them, and it didn't take an expert to see that he was going to be very drunk, very soon.

"Forget about her, Draco," Daphne said, with concern. "She was never worth your time."

"I know that," he replied quickly, although his words were becoming slurred from the alcohol. "I'm just having a hard time accepting that I was so blind and stupid for so long."

He gulped down the other shot in his hand and Daphne snatched the glass from his fingers. "Stop drinking, you idiot. You'll only call attention to yourself and you know that no good will come of it."

He looked contrite for a moment, then the familiar scowl that Ginny remembered from his younger days came to his face. "I'm fine, Daph, quit fussing like a mother hen."

The blonde witch ignored his comment. "Somebody must have told her that you were here."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, looking over the crowded bar. "This doesn't seem like the kind of place her date would find interesting."

Draco interrupted. "Would you two mind not talking as if I'm not here?"

Both looked at him skeptically.

"Well, isn't it interesting to run into you all here?" a thin, rather annoying voice said from behind the group. At that moment, Ginny was quite certain that Pansy Parkinson had indeed arrived at the club for the sole purpose of haunting her ex-boyfriend.

In that instant, Draco's demeanor changed completely. He stood up straight, his expression became closed, almost calm and disinterested. He turned to smile coldly at Pansy. "Nice to see you again, Parkinson."

"If your definition of nice is bottling Bubotuber Pus ..." Ron muttered quietly.

"Doing charity work tonight, Draco, dear?" she asked cattily, ignoring everyone except Draco.

"What do you want, Pansy?" Daphne interrupted, sharply.

The raven-haired witch looked around at the group, noting that Astoria was standing next to Ron, then looked snootily at Ginny. "Can't a girl just stop by and check on her old flame?" She sidled up to Draco, wrapping her arm around his, although her gaze wandered to Ron. "Especially now that he's reduced to keeping such...” she paused for a moment, lifting her pug-like nose slightly, and sneered, “... interesting company these days."

Ginny realized that the catty little bitch was truly trying to humiliate her ex-boyfriend, and a strong protective urge overcame her. The blond man was still standing tall, albeit a bit stiffly, and his eyes looked angry, but a bit unfocussed, due the excessive amount of alcohol that he'd just consumed.

"C'mon Draco, admit that you miss me. Here you are, all alone, and you know you'll never find someone who will entertain you like I did," she spoke huskily into his ear.

“More like she misses his money,” Astoria whispered in Ginny's ear.

Ginny nodded in agreement, her eyes fixated on the pair. The sight was almost pathetic. As much as she disliked Malfoy, he was her brother's friend, and nobody deserved to be harassed the way Parkinson was doing at that moment. While he was hiding his emotions well, it had been obvious from his initial reaction that his heart had been stabbed by this wench and, now, Parkinson was there to twist the knife.

He looked down at the witch with disdain, looking as if he was ready to speak. With the amount of alcohol in his system, it was highly likely that it wouldn't be good. Making a quick decision to interrupt before the situation became worse, Ginny stepped up, pushing her way between them, facing Pansy.

"I think you should go. Now," she commanded firmly. "Your date over there is looking impatient, and I assume that he's probably paying you by the hour for services." To make her point, Ginny looked the girl up and down as if she'd seen something distasteful.

Pansy stepped back, her face scrunching in a rather unattractive display of shock and fury. "How dare you, you little..."

Smiling at the girl's reaction, Ginny lifted her hand to her mouth in a gesture of mock-surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I make an incorrect assumption? I thought you were for hire, because you're dressed like a Muggle prostitute. Or, at least that's the story that I can get published, if you don't back off.”

At that moment, a hand wrapped around Ginny's waist and Malfoy pulled her close, then whispered rather sloppily in her ear, "I think I'm in love with you right now, Weasley." She might have pulled away to give him a sound dressing down, but she was too preoccupied with watching Parkinson turn her nose up and march away in a huff.

"We're getting out of here," Daphne said as soon as Pansy had left the area to go slobber over the older man who had arrived with her.

Ginny tried to pull away from Malfoy, but he continued to hold her waist in a rather firm grip. “Let go of me, Malfoy!”

Seeming to realize that he was, indeed, holding onto her rather tightly, he responded with a slurred, “Sure,” but as soon as he let go, he wobbled unsteadily.

Ginny, being nearest, quickly stepped back to his side to keep him from falling. "You're inebriated," she stated with irritation.

"Crap," Ron said, peering rather closely at his blond friend. "He's going to pass out. We've got to get out of here. If he makes a fool of himself, you can bet that Parkinson will never let him hear the end of it."

"I'm fine," Malfoy responded with an unnatural slowness. "It's just that pretending I'm drunk gives me a good reason to hang onto little Weasley here," he said, wrapping his arm more securely around the little red head and giving Ron a bit of a cavalier smirk, which might have been humorous under different circumstances. "Your sister really is kind of cute, even if she does hate me."

Ron lifted an eyebrow and looked at Draco as if the blond had just said the most ludicrous thing imaginable. "Not now, mate,” he said, apparently deciding that his friend was so drunk he was talking nonsense. Then, he turned to the girls. "I'll get the cloaks. Ginny, can you get him to the door?"

"I think so," she responded. "Maybe if Daphne walks on the other side of him, just in case."

"Sounds good," he replied. "I'll meet you at the door." He waited until the group nodded in response, then, he moved off into the crowd.

Their journey was slow, but surprisingly smooth. Ginny walked beside Malfoy, her arm wrapped around his waist and his arm draped heavily across her shoulders. Daphne was on the opposite side, and Astoria walked behind, hoping to block any missteps from obvious view. Malfoy, although completely intoxicated, managed to walk almost normally when he put his mind to it. He appeared casually relaxed, although Ginny could tell that he was relying heavily on her to keep him steady. To the outside observer, it just looked like he was just holding his girl a bit close.

Nearing the door, he turned to her. "I think I'm going to kiss you now, Weasley."

Before she could fully process what he'd just said and protest, his lips descended upon hers in a rather wet, sloppy manner. She thought about pulling away in disgust, but she was fully aware of the fact that Parkinson had her hawk-like gaze on them. It was like a bizarre nightmare, but she somehow managed to endure it for several seconds before pulling away, faking a sweet smile. "Not here, Draco."

"Yeah," he muttered, looking like a sad puppy. "So true. No public displays of affection. Malfoys don't do that."

She looked past him at Daphne with a confused look on her face, wondering what he might mean by that and the blonde girl just shook her head.

Fortunately, Ron had their cloaks ready and proceeded to help Astoria into hers first while Ginny and Daphne moved Draco out of sight to help him into his.

Almost immediately after they stepped into the cool night air, Draco turned to Ron. "I'm not doing so good, mate."

Eyes widening, Ron realized what his friend meant by that, and pushed Ginny away, taking her place by his side. "C'mon man. Let's get you out of here."

With little warning, Draco's legs seemed to crumple beneath him and he turned to the side, promptly emptying the contents of his stomach into the street, fortunately missing his companions with the violent upheaval. Ron looked sadly at his friend, then, giving a deep sigh, turned to the three girls and said with resignation, "Go home, ladies. I'll take care of him."

Ginny looked at her brother with irritation. "Absolutely not. I'm not leaving you to deal with this alone. You're going to need help. He's a mess."

Daphne and Astoria nodded in agreement.

"His flat is just a few blocks from here," Daphne said. "Why don't we walk him that far? I don't think he'll handle Apparition very well in his condition.”

“Agreed,” Ron said, hauling his friend up and wrapping his arm around to steady him.

Silently, the group plodded in the direction of Malfoy's home.

X

Ginny had never been to Malfoy's house and, as she entered the front door, she was pleasantly surprised. She'd been expecting to be assaulted by obnoxious Slytherin greens and perhaps an excessive display of trashy wealth, something akin to the troll-leg umbrella stand and elf heads at Grimmauld Place. What she found instead was a home that was tasteful, simple, and slightly masculine.

Malfoy stumbled alongside Ron, mumbling things about moving the party to his place, and Ron rolled his eyes, agreeing with him, making the girls giggle amongst themselves.

“C'mon mate,” Ron said, hauling the blond up the stairs. “Almost there.”

“That's good,” Malfoy responded slowly, his words slurred. Then, he looked over at the three girls and gave a dopey grin. “Three beautiful women with us, too, right mate?”

“Oh, knock it off, Dray,” Daphne replied, rolling her eyes and shaking her head in exasperation. “You got us to haul you home, you don't need to lay it on so thick.”

Ginny looked over at Astoria, and both girls shared an amused smile.

Without much fanfare, Ron proceeded to half carry, half drag his friend up the stairs to his bedroom, all girls following along dutifully. Once in the bedroom, Ron and Daphne shared responsibility of peeling back the covers, and tugging off Draco's shoes and tie.

“Should we take off his pants too?” Daphne asked.

Ron looked a bit frightened at the thought, then shook his head. “I'm not taking off another bloke's pants.”

The lovely blonde laughed, reaching for Draco's belt buckle. “Well, he'll be more comfortable if we do,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Ron merely backed away further. “The git deserves it for getting that pissed. Can't believe he let Parkinson get to him like that.”

Daphne turned to her sister, beckoning the other girl to give her a hand as she unbuttoned her friend's trousers. Ginny stepped forward as well, joining in with their amused laughter, grabbed a pant leg and tugged with the other girl.

In a way, the sight was endearing. Poor Malfoy was unconscious, wearing only shirt, socks and underwear. A soft snore emitted from the man, and Daphne chuckled as she pulled the blanket up over him.

“He's going to feel awful in the morning,” Daphne stated, looking at her sleeping friend with concern. The other three made various remarks in agreement. “One of us should stay with him, to make sure he's all right.”

“I'll stay. He's done the same for me,” Ron volunteered.

“We do have to get going,” Daphne said. “I promised Mum that I'd have Tori home at a decent hour.”

Ron's smile faltered, just a bit, until Astoria looked up at him with her big, china blue eyes. “Would you write to me?”

Ginny thought her brother was going to burst with joy as he nodded in return.

Unfortunately, with the Greengrass sisters leaving, Ginny suddenly realized that it would be inconsiderate of her to leave her brother to watch-duty alone.

“I suppose I'll keep you company, then,” Ginny said to Ron, with a touch of resignation. “Though I should go home and change first. This,” she said, looking down at her dress. “This isn't the most comfortable thing.”

“Oh, poo,” Daphne stated. Then, with total disregard for the owner of the house, she went to the closet and started to rummage around. Pulling out a Falcons Quidditch jersey, she gave a satisfied smile and offered the item to Ginny. “He won't mind. I promise. And if he does, I'll hex him. You're doing him a favor. At the very least, you should make yourself comfortable.”

Ginny chuckled and accepted the item, rather amused at the idea of irritating Malfoy by borrowing his shirt. Ron turned to Astoria, giving her a shy smile, which Astoria returned.

Daphne and Ginny shared a knowing glance. Apparently, at least for Ron, the evening had been a success.

They saw the sisters out and headed to the lounge. Ginny changed into the Quidditch jersey, which was big enough to hang down to her mid-thigh, almost like a pyjama shirt, and curled up on the surprising comfortable sofa, transfiguring a light blanket to cover her legs.

Ron came in a few minutes later and sat on the chair across from her, propping his shoeless feet up on an ottoman. He gave a weary sigh, but was smiling.

“So, things went well with Astoria, I take it,” Ginny prompted, an impish grin coming to her lips.

“Oy, yeah,” he said, his grin growing just a bit wider. “She's asked me to write to her. Maybe I'll even meet her at Hogsmeade in a few weeks. It couldn't have worked out better.”

Ginny smiled affectionately at her brother. “She's very nice. I'm glad I met her tonight, even if the evening turned out to be a bit strange,” she said waving a hand in the direction of Malfoy's bedroom. “Is he going to be all right?”

“Yeah,” Ron replied. “Though, I've never seen him this bad. I figure I owe him one. Usually, he's the one hauling me home. More than once he's brought me back and I've spent a few nights on that couch,” he said, pointing at where Ginny was sitting. “Fortunately, it's pretty comfortable.”

She nodded in response, snuggling further into the cushions.

They were silent for a moment, then Ron spoke again. “Thanks for coming tonight, Gin. I know it wasn't what you wanted to do, but …” He paused. “Just thanks.”

She chuckled. “It was all right. I had fun.”

Ron smiled, apparently unsure of what to say. Then, he looked over at a rather expensive-looking marble chess board. “Fancy a game of chess?”


X

The next morning, she stood in front of the stove, cauldron happily bubbling away as she added the last of the ingredients, muttering softly to herself that Malfoy most certainly did not deserve a hangover remedy of any sort. She was still clad in the comfortable shirt that Daphne had dug out of Malfoy's closet, not caring that she was wearing only that over her underwear. Ron, after all, was still asleep and, besides, he had seen her in worse. And, she presumed, Malfoy was likely not going to get up any time soon, and when he did get up, she was quite certain that he was really going to need that hangover remedy.

She wondered how she might be able to blackmail something out of him or, at the very least, torture him for a bit before turning the concoction over to him.

She'd had some time that morning to recount the evening and, after some thought, she realized that she was grateful to the blond pain-in-the-arse. Despite the scene he'd nearly made at the bar, he'd provided a wonderful opportunity for Ginny to stay up half the night with her brother just talking. They'd reminisced about childhood, friends, family, Quidditch, and almost everything else that made their relationship special. It had turned out to be one of the best New Year's Eves ever.

She hummed to herself as she quietly stirred the potion, noting that the color was nearly perfect. Just as she turned off the heat, she heard a scuffling noise behind her.

“Oh, sweet Merlin, no!” she heard Malfoy say, in a most pathetic tone, as if his world had just ended.

She turned, looking at the man with irritation. “Good heavens, Malfoy, it's just a hangover.”

He clearly did not look his best. He was still wearing only his shirt from the previous evening, over his underwear, and socks. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, his eyes were red, and his face was even more pale than usual.

He looked her over and rubbed his hands over face, mussing his hair further, as if it was painful to look at her, and groaned. “Please tell me I didn't...”

Rolling her eyes and waving the spoon she'd been using to stir the potion at him, she answered, “Yes, of course you did and you made an utter fool of yourself.”

He moaned. “Ron's going to kill me, and I'd deserve it.”

She gave a deep sigh. “Oh, quit being such a drama queen. It will be all right,” she said, turning to dig through the cupboards for a cup.

“I'm never going to be able to face him,” Draco whined, plopping down heavily at the small breakfast table, looking completely miserable.

She took pity on him. She really would have loved to torment him just a bit longer about his drinking binge, but he just looked so forlorn. Beating him up further about the incident would have only made her feel as if she was kicking a puppy. She took the cup, filled it with the hangover potion and placed it in front of him.

“It's not that big a deal, Malfoy.”

He looked up at her, his red-rimmed eyes close to panic. “Are you crazy, Weasley? This could totally ruin the best friendship I've ever had! I know you'd probably prefer I didn't hang around with him, but I happen to like your brother very much.”

Ron's voice interrupted at that moment. “So what of it, Malfoy? Most everyone makes mistakes. Even you, you wanker.”

Draco jumped out of his seat as if he'd been jolted by an electric shock. He turned to Ron, looking more than a bit panicked. “I'm so, so sorry mate,” he stammered. He looked toward Ginny. “I don't even remember any of it, I swear!”

“I'd be surprised if you did,” Ron said with a chuckle. “It took all of us to pour you into bed. And you're lucky you didn't toss your stomach on my shoes, or there'd be hell to pay.”

Malfoy's jaw dropped open, as if in shock, not quite comprehending what Ron was saying. He looked over at Ginny again, the pain of his headache making his expression seem slightly crazed, then back to Ron. “Would one of you care to fill me in, then? Because, I'm not liking the conclusions that I'm making right now.”

The demand was so Malfoy-like.

Both siblings exchanged a glance, unsure of what the confusion was about. Then, Ron looked over at his sister and his eyebrows then raised in understanding. He motioned to her legs. She looked down at her bare feet and remembered that she was standing around wearing little more than the man's shirt. Granted, it was long enough to cover her thighs, but still...

Suddenly, it dawned on her.

She laughed, and Ron started to chuckle as well. “Oh my Lord, Malfoy...” she said, laughing. “You don't think... You didn't think that you and I...”

“We didn't sleep together?” he asked, almost hopefully.

She clutched her stomach, laughing harder, tears coming to her eyes. “Of course not! You could barely walk. Ron tossed you into bed and we took your trousers. He and I stayed in the lounge to make sure you would be all right. Daphne pulled this,” she explained, motioning to the shirt she was wearing, “...out of your closet so I'd be more comfortable.”

He stared at her, his bloodshot eyes wide with understanding, his mouth dropped open slightly as if saying, “Oh.” Then, he breathed a deep sigh of relief.

“Drink the potion, man,” Ron commanded firmly. “Ginny's got a great recipe there. It'll fix you right up,” he said, giving his sister a wink. “I'll run out and get us some breakfast.”

Then, he stopped, turned back to Ginny and scowled. “And, Ginny,” he said, motioning to her manner of undress with strong disapproval. “Get some clothes on. You shouldn't be running around like that.” He gave a dramatic shudder, then marched out.

She placed a hand over her eyes and took a deep breath. Normally, such a remark from her brother would have sparked her temper, but, at the moment, the whole situation was just a bit too ridiculous.

Draco sat down heavily and eagerly downed the contents of the cup she'd provided then looked up at her apologetically. “I guess I ruined everyone's night.”

She dropped down in the seat across from the blond, shaking her head. “Parkinson ruined the night. Up until then, it was rather fun.”

He grunted in reply, looking down at the cup in his hands.

In that moment, Ginny could no longer harbor animosity toward the man. He'd bared part of himself last night, and then again this morning, when he was so obviously distraught at the thought of upsetting Ron. “I'm sorry that she showed up. Astoria let slip what she'd done to you.”

He shrugged, still not looking up from his cup. “I don't love her, if that's what you are thinking. Hell, I don't even like her and I certainly have been much happier without her.” He looked up at Ginny, and she could see the simple honesty in his eyes. “It's the fact that I was stupid enough to not see what she was doing. I was a fool, and a laughingstock, and she played me, and she enjoyed every minute of it.”

She truly did feel sorry for him. “Nobody deserves to be treated that way, Draco. But, you aren't the first person to be taken in by someone like that, and you won't be the last. There's no use beating yourself up over it.”

“Your brother and Daphne are my best friends, Weasley. I truly mean that, and I hope you can accept it.”

Having let go some of her dislike of the man, Ginny found she couldn't say no. Her family had seen this and accepted it long ago, and she supposed it was her turn to let go of her old grudge. In a way, it made her feel liberated. She nodded and held out her hand. “I do. Truce then?”

“Truce,” he replied, reaching his hand out in return and, rather than a simple handshake as she had been expecting, he took her hand, lifted it to his lips and laid a gentlemanly kiss on the knuckles. “And thank you for being so understanding.”

She pulled her hand back, blushing slightly. “Well, I better get dressed before Ron gets back, or he'll have a right fit.”

He nodded in agreement. “I could probably use a shower, myself. If you like, you can use the guest bedroom,” he said, motioning down the hall.

X

She left for home before Ron returned with breakfast, figuring that the two friends would have their own things to discuss. Besides, the newly minted truce between herself and Malfoy had left her feeling just a bit uneasy. She wasn't sure she could continue a longer conversation with the man without reverting back to her habitual scowls and insults. It was quite disconcerting to think of the blond as a normal person.

“Oh, there you are, young lady,” her mother said in lieu of a greeting.

“Hey, Mum. I hope you didn't worry. Ron and I fell asleep in the lounge at Draco's house.” Ginny paused, realizing that she'd said, “Draco,” not “Malfoy.” It was odd.

“Well, knowing you were together, I figured it was something like that. It wouldn't be the first time Ron's stayed over there.”

She smiled at her mother. “Ron mentioned that.”

Ginny thought about saying more, but elected instead to go upstairs and sleep for a few more hours in her own bed.

When Ginny entered the pitch for her fourth match of the new season, she was feeling confident. The weather was perfect for early May, the air was clear and the crowd was loud and enthusiastic.

By the end of the match, she was feeling broken and defeated, along with the rest of her team. It had been the most horrible game in her memory. She'd been pounded by the bludger three times, once nearly knocking her from her broom. Her shoulder was still feeling tender and, no doubt, the bruising was going to continue to nag her for the next few days.

After accepting defeat with the rest of her team, she flew in the direction of the center stands and scanned the departing crowd, looking for the familiar flash of red hair among the spectators. Ron had been attending every match since the beginning of the season, and she'd become fond of meeting up with him after the game. Granted, he was usually there with Malfoy, but she'd learned to accept the blond's presence, and had even come to enjoy his company, despite her previous reservations.

It had become familiar habit for her to glance into the stands to see the pair, usually in the center of the pitch, cheering her on, even during the pre-season practice matches. The bright red hair of her brother alongside his blond friend, standing out like a beacon among the crowds. It warmed her heart to know she had such dedicated fans.

This time, however, as she scanned the crowd, there was no flash of bright ginger next to the standout platinum blond in the center box. The crowds were clearing and she assumed he'd return shortly, giving a quick wave to the blond, she started signing a few autographs for fans.

Again, when she looked over, she only saw Malfoy waving back, but she flew toward him anyway, because, well, he was rather difficult to ignore. She greeted him politely, smiling and waving at other fans in the box. “You know, Malfoy, I'm going to tell Daphne that you're turning into a Harpies fan if you keep coming to my matches.”

“Falcons fan forever, Weasley,” he replied smartly. “I'm just here because your brother gave me his ticket.”

She frowned. “Ron's not here?”

“He's up in Hogsmeade.”

For a moment, Ginny felt deep disappointment. Having just lost a match, she had been hoping that spending some time with her brother would lift her spirits. Then, she deduced what Malfoy meant by that statement, and she couldn't help but give a devilish grin. “Is he meeting with Astoria?”

Malfoy's lips lifted, echoing her smile. “It's one of the last Hogsmeade weekends before she begins her NEWTs. When she invited him up, I sort of encouraged him to go.”

“Well, at least there's some cause for celebration,” she said. “Unfortunately, I was hoping he could take me to dinner, so I could forget about losing today.”

“It wasn't your fault,” he said. “They missed calling at least three fouls on you, and two on your Seeker. I think that would have made a difference.”

She shrugged, not really in the mood to make excuses. “Thank you, I suppose.”

Malfoy shuffled, seeming uncharacteristically uncomfortable. “I'd be happy to take you to dinner.”

“No need to feel obligated, Malfoy. I'm a big girl.”

“You know, we've been civil to each other long enough. Do you think you could call me Draco?”

The request was simple, but she really hadn't ever considered calling him by his first name. For the longest time, she mostly thought of him as the “Git”. Graduating to calling him by his surname had been an accomplishment. Referring to him by his first name seemed a bit unnatural. “I suppose,” she responded reluctantly.

“Good, then,” he said awkwardly. “I guess I'll pick you up at the front gate after you change.”

She frowned, uncertain about whether or not she'd actually agreed on going to dinner with him. True, he'd joined her and Ron once or twice, when they'd gone out after some of the previous matches, but this was different. She opened her mouth to protest, but he was already moving toward the exit and a small girl was looking up at her eagerly, waving a piece of parchment for her autograph, effectively preventing Ginny from calling out after him.

Since Ron wasn't there, Ginny deduced that his friend was simply being courteous. It had become one of those constants in the universe, where, after a game, she went out to dinner with her brother and his friend. It just so happened that her brother wasn't going to be there this time.

She wandered off to the locker room, feeling more than a bit confused. She'd never spent any time alone with Malfoy, except for the few minutes on New Year's Day. She had no idea what she was going to talk about with the prat.

In fact, she quickly came to the conclusion that she would just meet him at the gate and give him a polite, “No, thank you.” But, one of her teammates had seen her talking with the blond and had inquired about him when Ginny entered the showers. Unfortunately, Ginny made the mistake of mentioning that he'd asked her to dinner. By the time Ginny finished her shower and wrapped herself in a towel, the entire team had been informed, and Ginny was subjected to raucous encouragement, catcalls, and an endless list of romantic restaurants.

“It is NOT a date!” Ginny emphatically explained.

“Sure, it's not,” at least three responded mockingly in unison.

It was impossible to cancel the “date” at that point. She'd been shamed by her teammates so that backing out was not an option. If anything, ribbing Ginny had put the team in good spirits after their loss so, in the interest of team spirit, Ginny decided to go through with it.

x - x - x

As she and Malfoy walked into a quiet establishment, Ginny was struck by an uneasy feeling. When she went out with Ron, they typically chose a much less intimate sports-themed pub.

Before she could voice any dissent, he spoke, “I thought that the usual sports pubs might be a bit difficult, since your team lost today. I hope you don't mind. The food here is excellent.”

Suspicious, she asked, “Do you take a lot of witches here?” Granted, Ron said that Malfoy preferred to not be in a relationship, but Ron didn't say anything about whether or not Malfoy made a habit of dating many witches. If he had a reputation for having casual flings, she didn't want to give any impression that she was one of them. Taking a look at him, she deduced that he'd likely have no shortage of women who would be willing to be seen with him. It was no wonder that her teammates had made so many suggestive comments about him.

Malfoy chuckled at her remark, his gray eyes seeming uncommonly warm. “Only my mother. And occasionally Ron.”

She chuckled at the implication of Ron being feminine and took in Malfoy's expression after the light-hearted poke at her brother. His eyes seemed distant and a gentle smile graced his lips as if he was recalling fond memories. The soft lighting in the room gave additional warmth to his expression, adding highlights to his pale hair. It was becoming nearly impossible to find a fault with the blond. Though she'd made the truce with him, she hadn't entirely given up her quest to find an ulterior motive to his friendship with Ron, but, after months of trying, she'd only come to the conclusion that, now that he was finally free of the Death Eater factions, he was downright likeable.

His seeming lack of evil flaws was quite annoying. Worse, he was damned good-looking, although not entirely handsome. She'd never gotten over that first bout of attraction that had taken hold on Christmas day, although she'd fought it at first. She also hadn't forgotten the sloppy kiss he'd given her on New Year's Eve, although she doubted he remembered the incident.

“Mal-, umm, Draco, would you mind getting a table near the back? If we sit near the windows, I'm afraid we might be interrupted by drunken teammates.”

He nodded in agreement and indicated their preference to the hostess. Once they were seated, he continued the topic. “I take it, based on your skill with that hangover potion, that your teammates can be a rowdy bunch.”

“The first order of business with any new member of the team is to take them out and get them so pissed that they need that hangover potion. It's kind of a rite of initiation.”

“And I thought only the men's teams did things like that,” he said. “I presume then, that you were no exception?”

She shook her head, embarrassing memories and echos of the hangover making her wince slightly. “I was so excited to make the team, and everyone kept buying me drinks, before I knew it, I was dancing on the bar. It was humiliating.”

He chuckled. “How do you like your second season?”

She shrugged. “It's still great. I love the competition, but it's not quite the same as the first year, when everything was so new.”

“You seem more settled in your riding, not quite as anxious as you were last year.”

She nodded in agreement. “I'm not as nervous, I suppose.” She paused. “Ron told me that you were at my first match.”

“Yeah. It was a total coincidence. Normally, I only go to the Falcons, but I was in the area and was able to get a good seat. Later in the season, Ron made me go to your match against the Cannons. Daphne joined us for that one.”

Ginny tried to suppress a smile, knowing that Daphne continued to hide her relationship with the Cannons player from Malfoy.

“Don't grin, Weasley, I mean, Ginny. I know about Daph's little dalliance with Spinnet. I've known almost since the day it started.”

“But... but... Daphne said...”

“Daphne's about as subtle as a drunk hippogriff. But, I'll let her think she's keeping a secret. It makes her feel like she's got one over on me.”

“So, you approve?”

He snorted. "Spinnet's a decent enough bloke. He treats her well. I'm guessing his career won't last more than another season, maybe sooner if he takes another bludger hit like he did last week.”

“What a terrible thing to say!”

“Hush, hush, Weasley. He's had a good run of it. You know it's time for him to think of retiring and, when he does, I suspect he'll want to settle down with Daph and raise their own team. That's when she'll let me in on her 'secret' relationship.”

Her jaw dropped open.

With a smug grin, he proceeded to ignore her and looked down at his menu. She had no choice but to do the same.

After they ordered their meals, Ginny found herself searching for another topic of conversation and regretting her decision to go to dinner with the man.

“So...” she said, awkwardly. “Is there a particular reason that you invited me out tonight?”

He seemed in no hurry to answer. Taking a long sip of his wine, he eventually responded, “You pilfered my favorite shirt.”

She almost choked. Of all the things she'd expected him to say, that wasn't even close, and he'd managed to say it while she was taking a sip from her own wine. She nearly had to spit it out. Damn him, he'd probably timed that deliberately.

Unfortunately, his accusation was quite true. On New Year's day, after she'd changed back into her dress for her floo home, she'd kept the large Falcon's jersey that she'd worn while playing chess with Ron and sleeping on the comfortable sofa. Initially, her intentions had been honorable. She simply wanted to wash the item-in-question before returning it to its owner.

But, it was so warm and comfortable.

She had washed it, folded it and then decided that wearing it again as a nightshirt wouldn't hurt. Then, it happened again, and again.

After about three weeks, she concluded that, since Malfoy hadn't said anything, that he really didn't miss the item and she decided to keep it for herself and he'd never notice. Apparently, she had been wrong.

Knowing full well that she was guilty as charged, the only way she could see to escape was to go on the offensive. “Well, you owed me, after you... you...”

“Yes, after I got totally pissed and...” he started to say, but he never completed the statement because she interrupted.

“You kissed me!”

There. She said it. It was the worst kiss of her life, but somehow, it had bothered her to no end that he had no memory of the event.

His mouth dropped open. “That really happened,” he stated, clearly stunned.

“You remember, then?” she demanded.

“Of course, I remember. I lost track of things after we got outside, but, yes, I remember that.”

She sat back, crossed her arms and glared at him.

“I had been hoping that I might have imagined it," he said, with a slight frown.

At last, she had her proof. He still was repulsed by her because of her family values. “So, you admit that you regret kissing me,” she stated, hoping to draw out his true feelings. She expected nothing less than him being appalled over the fact that he'd locked lips with her, perhaps he might even toss out an insult or two, like he'd done during his schoolboy days.

He seemed confused. “Of course not!”

“What?” she stammered, somewhat inelegantly. She blinked, trying to process the fact that, not only had he remembered the event, but that he didn't regret it. “But, you said...”

“It was improper,” he said. “I took advantage of the fact that you were being very gracious and accommodating, considering my condition.”

She was quite certain that the dumbfounded look on her face must have been quite amusing but, for once, he didn't seem to be laughing at her, like he normally liked to do.

He leaned forward in earnest, his hand taking hers. She stared at it for a moment before looking back up at him. “I am very sorry, Weasley... umm, I mean, Ginevra. I should have apologized sooner, but there never seemed to be a good opportunity.”

Her jaw dropped, and she looked at his hand covering hers, unsure of how to respond.

“You said you don't regret kissing me.”

He shrugged, and she became acutely aware of his hands holding hers and how close they were. It suddenly felt like a real date.

“I don't regret it, Weas... Ginny.”

She wanted, no, she needed to change the subject because that damnable attraction toward him was rearing its ugly head again.

“So tell me, Mal... Draco, why do you hang out so much with my brother?”

He pulled away, the awkward moment broken. “It's complicated.”

She considered the non-answer, then decided she was too curious to let it go. “Try me.”

“Maybe you should ask him why he likes to be with me so much.”

“Maybe I already did. I'm asking you right now.”

Taking a deep breath, he pondered his answer. “He's different.”

She raised an eyebrow, silently asking him to continue.

“It's not just your brother, Ginevra, it's everything around him. Your family, your life, is just different from what I grew up with. It's nothing like I've ever experienced before and, this may sound selfish, but it's something that I need right now.”

It was the most serious that she'd seen of him since he'd walked into the Burrow so many months ago.

“I don't know how to describe how nice it is to walk in to your house and know that there's nothing expected of me. After my first meeting with Ron, when we went out to just play Quidditch, he absolutely didn't expect anything from me, except for who I was that day.”

“He didn't trust you, though. Not at first.”

“No, and I didn't expect anything of the sort. But, we went out and he was willing to just accept me as I was. After having had expectations put on me my whole life, by Pureblood society, my father, my classmates, and eventually Voldemort, and then, all that got turned on its head. Then, Ron came along and, well, it was nice that he just let me be. For a long time, we didn't talk about anything other than Quidditch, mostly because it was the only thing we were both certain not to argue over, ”

She nodded, trying to process his reasoning and desperately trying to ignore the fringe of hair that carelessly dropped over his right eye, or how intense those eyes were at the moment, focused on her.

She took an inelegantly large sip of her wine, if only for an excuse to look away from him for a moment.

“It seems your team mates are looking for you,” he said.

Shocked, she nearly choked on the gulp of wine, felt a portion of the sip get snorted into her nose, and grabbed her napkin to hide the ghastly display. She looked up at him angrily, certain that he'd timed that statement just to catch her off guard. He looked highly amused. She was certain that being around Fred and George had influenced him.

“Bugger...” she said, once she'd composed herself a bit, and took a quick peek behind her to see two of her team entering the restaurant and glancing around, before heading to the bar area. “That's all I need,” she said with annoyance and turned her seat so that she was effectively hidden by the back of the booth in which they were seated.

“Ashamed to be seen with me, Weasley?”

“No, you git. They all know I'm going to dinner with you. They've probably got a wager on the outcome of our date. If they see us, I'll never hear the end of it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Date?”

Her jaw dropped in realization of what she'd just said. She'd called it a date. The grin on his face confirmed that he'd caught her and was going to hold the misspoken word against her forever. “I.. I didn't mean 'date' as in a date.”

His grin widened, if that were possible.

“You know I think I liked you better when you were an outright arse,” she grumbled, wishing for all the world that she could melt into the floor.

“Who says I've changed? It's just more fun this way, and you are too easy of a target, Weasley.”

She narrowed her eyes and tried not to audibly growl at him. “I knew it.”

He laughed, and it was a warm and pleasant sound that it made her blush in embarrassment. He waived the waitress over, so at least she had a moment to compose herself. “Can you please pack our meals to go? Toss a bottle of the cabernet in the package, and meet us by the back door, please.” The waitress nodded and hurried away.

“Have they seen us?” she asked.

“Not yet, but they will as soon as the fat man by the door moves out of the way,” he said, standing up and grabbing Ginny's hand to escort her up. Without letting go of her hand, he tugged her toward the back of the restaurant, where the waitress met them with the food. Pulling out a handful of galleons to cover the check, he paid the bill, grabbed the package in one hand, Ginny's arm with the other and scurried, if his graceful stride could be termed that, out of the restaurant to the alley behind the building.

“Something tells me that you've run out of that place before,” she remarked. “Are you sure you don't bring many witches there?”

He shrugged, giving a wry grin. “I've been known to run from unwanted attention from witches.”

She thought of how half the team had been drooling over him when they'd heard that she was going to dinner. Funny, she'd never thought that other women would find him attractive. It wasn't surprising, she thought. He was rather handsome and, of course, wealthy, so it wasn't unreasonable, if a female could tolerate all that arrogance.

She looked around the alley. “So, now what do we do?”

“I promised you dinner, and dinner we shall have,” he said grandly, giving a slight bow, before he pulled out his wand and Apparated them to his doorstep.

After flying for most of the afternoon, the trip left her a little dizzy, and by the time she'd composed herself, he was tugging her into his house. “Your place, Malfoy?”

“I thought we'd agreed to use first names,” he said cheerfully, placing the package on the coffee table in the lounge.

“Sorry. Draco,” she corrected. “As if going back to your place is better than being seen at dinner.”

“They don't need to know, and if they do, then great. If you're going to be the object of a bet, you might as well make it interesting for them.”

She dropped onto the sofa, dropping her head back and staring at the ceiling in mock defeat. She groaned loudly. “You are going to be the death of me.”

“Nonsense,” he said, cheerfully, as he rummaged through the kitchen, returning with two wine glasses and a corkscrew. “Tall tales are so much more fun. You can tell them that you had your way with me.”

She lifted her head from the cushion and glared at him, albeit weakly. “You've spent way too much time around my brothers. Fred and George have most definitely influenced you.”

“And I'm not sorry in the least. Laugh, Ginevra. I spent too many years being angry, and I know from experience that it's a much better way to live.”

She took the glass of wine he offered and watched him. With a wave of his wand, the meals unboxed onto the coffee table, then he sat down, cross-legged on the floor, with surprising amount of grace and tucked into his dinner.

His attitude was quite endearing. He reminded her of a playful child, and was glad that Ron and the twins had drawn this out of him. Despite herself, she felt a smile tug at her lips as she slid off the sofa and mirrored him, sitting cross-legged on the opposite side of the table.

He had been right, the food was delicious, and they chatted mostly about inconsequential things as they ate. After they finished, he vanished the empty containers and moved over to her side of the table to refill her glass. They sat there, on the soft carpeted floor, their backs leaning up against the sofa for a while, sharing light conversation. She had to admit, he was pleasant company when he wanted to be.

“So, Ron and Astoria...” she said, giving a light chuckle.

“He's completely smitten. It's pathetic, I tell you,” he responded, taking another sip of his wine.

“Whatever will you do without him? I mean, once Astoria is done with school, he'll probably be spending more time with her, if he doesn't muck it up, of course.”

“He won't muck it up. Tori is just as taken with him. He'd have to work too hard to muck it up, and it's just not in him.”

“Says the expert?” she asked.

“Who says I'm an expert in mucking up relationships?”

“Well, I don't see you with a girlfriend. You may have to acquire one to keep yourself occupied while Ron is with Astoria. Go on double dates and that sort of thing...”

He snorted. “I don't do relationships.”

“Liar.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Parkinson doesn't count. She's a slag. I didn't muck it up, she did.”

“I won't argue with you there. But, I don't think you want to be alone either.”

He leaned closer to her, their shoulders touching. Ginny had imbibed enough wine so that she felt pleasantly relaxed, and it appeared that he was in a similar state. “I'm waiting for the right girl to notice me.”

She looked at him, their faces close. “I'm sure she will.”

That's when he leaned in to kiss her, and she blamed the wine because she was too relaxed to pull away. Part of her had been expecting something akin to the sloppy, drunken kiss he'd given her on New Year's, and another part of her was curious to see if he could do better.

He didn't disappoint. She'd snogged enough boys in her young life to know a good kisser when she encountered one and he certainly fit the bill. His lips were soft, yet commanding, and she found herself quite taken up in the experience, enjoying it thoroughly. But, she reminded herself, this was not a boy, but a man.

She pulled away from the kiss, feeling light-headed, and just a bit confused. Then, the epiphany hit her when she realized that the schoolboy Draco, whom she'd hated so vehemently, had grown up. That was why he no longer behaved like the brat he'd been in school, and why he could overcome and be friends with her brother. And that was why she was so attracted to him.

And she'd just snogged him.

“I should go,” she said, scampering away from him.

He caught her hand before she could stand up. “Wait, Ginny... I'm sorry. I thought...”

“It's nothing you did. It's me. I mean, it's you and me, or... I don't know...” she stammered, suddenly feeling panicked. A million thoughts ran through her head. She was attracted to him. He apparently felt the same. She wondered how Ron would react, and if a relationship with Draco would ruin their friendship. Then realized that she'd just mentally thought of actually being in a relationship. It was too much to process.

“I had a lovely time,” she muttered, grabbing for her purse and racing toward the door, looking back to see him standing in the middle of the lounge, looking confused and just a bit sad, before she raced outside and Apparated herself back to her dorm to face her teammates.

One week after her non-date with Malfoy, Ginny found herself distracted as she flew onto the pitch for her weekly match. Instead of focusing on her team's game plan, she found herself constantly glancing into the stands for her brother and his friend, knowing full well that she needed to put aside the distraction and focus. Unfortunately, a part of her was positively terrified of facing the blond again, mostly because she didn't know how she should react to him.

She only caught a glimpse of Ron for a brief moment before the whistle blew and the Quaffle was launched into the air, forcing her to turn her attention to her job, but even then, she still found herself glancing into the stands, irritated that there was no blond seated next to her brother.

The second week, she was most definitely irritated to see Ron was again sitting alone. Malfoy had not attended with her brother the previous week, sparing her any confrontation at dinner afterward, but that did nothing to quell her uneasy feelings about the git. Yes, she'd gone back to thinking of him as “The Git,” because, quite frankly, it was far kinder than some of the other names that came to mind.

The week after that, she found herself nervously excited, and even a bit giddy, to see a flash of blond next to Ron, only to feel a crushing weight of disappointment slam into her chest when she realized that the blonde head belonged to Astoria.

Yet, at dinner each time, she smiled and laughed with Ron, accepted whatever excuse Ron offered for his friend's absence, and made absolutely no mention of anything that might imply that she was feeling any sort of unease involving her brother's friend. However, Ron, in a rare moment of intuitive observation, caught her out.

“What did you say to him, Ginny?” he asked, after Astoria had left.

The look of shock on her face was evident, she knew. “I didn't say anything! We had dinner, Ron, that's all.”

“You've hated him for ages. Granted, you've been getting along since New Year's, but I know you never approved of him being around.”

She groaned. “But, Ron...”

Yet, he ranted on, “For the past month, he's been acting like a spoiled git, all whinging and complaining. Worse than a woman, I tell you. He's been no fun whatsoever and he's been avoiding me. Something happened after that match last month, and I want to know what.”


She had to fight from blushing furiously at the memory. Goodness knew, she'd spent almost every waking hour, and more than a few dream-filled nights, thinking of the kiss that had ended the very pleasant evening that she'd spent with the blond prat.

“Whatever happened was between him and me. I don't see how it could possibly have anything to do with him spending time with you. Could it be that he's just letting you spend more time with Astoria?”

The logic was spot on and she could see some sort of war waged inside her brother's head for several seconds while he tried to unravel the argument. He didn't believe her, but he couldn't deny the possibility either. It was rather fun to see the confusion on his face, opening and closing his mouth much like a goldfish, but no sound came out. After a while, he managed to compose himself, stood up straight and, without admitting defeat, said, “Fine. But, I still think you had something to do with it.”

They parted for the evening under less than amicable terms, but at least he hadn't pressed the matter further.

Then, for the fourth week in a row, Ginny entered the pitch for her weekly match feeling a sense of dread.

She tried to prepare for her match, but, almost without conscious thought, she scanned the stands and was surprised to see Ron sitting in his usual location. Despite their argument, he was still a loyal fan and supporter and she adored him for that. She didn't bother to see if there was a blond seated next to him, because she didn't want to feel that now-familiar stab of disappointment.

Giving a sigh, she felt the annoying disappointment settle in anyway, making her slump on her broom. She found that she no longer looked forward to dinner with Ron after the game.

Turning her attention to the match, she prepared herself for battle.

-

She woke up in St. Mungo's four hours later, surrounded by her teammates, her head and shoulder wrapped thickly in bandages. She couldn't move her right arm. The last thing she remembered was, about an hour into the match, a Bludger had been aimed squarely at her head and, with the Quaffle tucked under her arm, there had been little she could do to defend herself, except to attempt to maneuver out of the way.

Apparently, she hadn't been successful.

Her instinctive reaction was to try to sit up and ask what had happened, but she quickly found that her right arm was useless in helping her move. She winced as a sharp pain radiated down her arm from her heavily bandaged shoulder. The Healer who had been attending hurried to her side to help, making disapproving noises all the while.

“How bad is it?” she asked the Healer, ignoring the concerned looks from her teammates.

“Well, the good news is that the injury to your head wasn't too serious, so you should have no memory loss,” the woman stated in a rather crisp, emotionless tone. “The bad news is that your shoulder needed some major reconstruction, and I had to use specialized spells to hold it together while it heals. I'm afraid you'll be out for the rest of the season and you'll have to do a lot of therapy to regain full motion in your arm.”

“Damn!” she muttered, trying to recall the sequence of events that had left her open and vulnerable. Turning to her teammates, hoping that the injury had at least been worthwhile, she asked, “Did you at least win the match?”

Her team captain smiled. “Always a competitor, aren't you. That's why I like you, Ginny, but, no, we lost.”

Ginny cringed at the news. “Again?” It hadn't been one of their best seasons, and now, with Ginny out, it was only going to get worse.

“Don't worry about it, Gin. Just get well. We'll need you back in top form next season.”

The others nodded in agreement, wishing her a speedy recovery as they left the room, and Ginny dropped back onto the pillows, feeling miserable.

It had largely been her own fault that she'd been injured, although she was reluctant to admit the truth to herself. She'd been distracted. Worse, she'd been distracted for the past four weeks, ever since... well, she didn't want to think about the night she literally ran away from Malfoy. And she didn't want to think about the fact that Ron knew that his best friend's distant behavior was somehow her fault.

Unfortunately, that's all she had been thinking about. It seemed that thoughts of the arrogant prat just kept popping into her head at the most inconvenient times. What made matters worse was that she hadn't seen him since that night – the night of the non-date. He hadn't even joined Ron in the stands during the past four matches. A part of her had expected that he'd at least attempt to talk to her, but there had been nothing. And it irked her to no end.

A soft knock fortunately interrupted her unwelcome thoughts and she looked up to see Ron's bright red hair as the door opened. He walked in, unceremoniously holding a bunch of peach roses. She smiled. “Hey, big brother.”

“Hey, Ginny,” he replied, with a little forced cheerfulness. It was apparent that the sight of her being bruised and bandaged made him uncomfortable. “Have you talked with your Healer yet?”

“Yes, and it's not good,” she said with a frown. “Looks like you are stuck with me now, at least for the rest of the season.”

He frowned. “It wasn't your fault, Gin,” Ron said. “You were fouled right before the hit. Everyone knows that Puddlemere plays dirty. Malfoy thought he deliberately shoved you into the path of that Bludger – he was ready to pummel that slimy...”

“Malfoy was there?” she asked, just a bit too quickly, interrupting her brother's rant.

Ron sighed. “Yeah, I had to practically drag him there. Got tired of him making excuses about why he couldn't go.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling disappointed that he hadn't decided to come on his own. Not that she hadn't expected the blond to avoid her, but she did find herself to be overwhelmingly disappointed.

“He told me that he upset you, Gin. He told me why.”

She felt the blush rising to her cheeks. “He said...?”

“He said that you two were getting along all right and that he...ahem...”

“He kissed me, Ron. You can say it.”

It was her brother's turn to blush, and it was quite obvious that the subject matter made him extremely uncomfortable. “You don't have to be so forthcoming about it,” he muttered. “There are some things a brother doesn't want to know.”

She dropped her head onto the pillow, rolling her eyes. Her brother truly was hopeless when it came to social situations, but that was one of his endearing traits. “It's not a big deal, Ron. It's ok.”

“I mean, I wanted the two of you to get along...” he said, stammering and appearing to be very uncomfortable. “I wasn't expecting to hear that!”

His awkward expression lightened her glum mood. “I can't believe he told you.”

“Well, there's not much to talk about while sitting in the waiting room, and I was getting sick of him acting like a total wanker. We finally had a bit of a row about it and he confessed that it wasn't your fault that he was avoiding us both.”

“He's here?”

“He's been in the waiting room with me since they brought you in. Bullied the Healers until they made sure to send in the best specialist they had to work on your arm, by the way.”

She chuckled.

“Seriously, Gin, when he's in a mood, there's no living with him. It was nice to see him turn all that whining and complaining on the Healers instead of me.”

“I suppose I should thank him for getting the specialist.”

“And the flowers,” Ron added, motioning to the roses. “He said that he's taken it upon himself to teach me proper manners, and only a total tosser of a brother would forget them.”

“You let him talk to you like that?”

“It's no worse than what Hermione used to say to me, except when Malfoy calls me a tosser, he usually acts all pompous and sort of looks like he just ate a lemon. Actually, now that I think of it, Hermione does that too. Just when Malfoy does it, he's trying to be funny.”

“Well, tell the tosser to come in. I can't even move my right arm, much less lift a wand against him.”

“All right, but no fighting.”

She grinned and gave him a sloppy salute with her left hand to indicate that she agreed to the order.

When Malfoy entered, she caught only a brief hesitation as he stepped into the room. It was as if he was frightened of her.

“I don't bite, you know.”

“Disappointing, then. I had higher hopes for you,” he said in response.

She chuckled, glad that he was willing to lighten the mood. It made it much easier for her to attempt an apology, although she had no idea how to begin. It was so much easier when she could just insult him.

“I'm glad you were at the game today,” she said lamely.

He shrugged. “Couldn't keep backing out forever. With Ron seeing Astoria now, it's about the only time I get to do something with him outside of work.”

She smiled, happy for her brother. “Well, at least she keeps him out of trouble. After all, he's run out of the hangover potion that I left for him, so it's best if he doesn't go out drinking as much.”

“He only drank to work up enough nerve to talk to girls anyway. Now, he's the one ribbing me to do the same.”

She felt disappointed, but couldn't begrudge him going out and trying to find someone new. “How is that working out for you?” she asked, curious to know if his quest had been successful.

“Not so well. As you know, the last attempt didn't work out so well, and it's hard to find someone who hates me enough to make things interesting.”

She nodded, frowning slightly. “Ron said that you told him what happened when we...”

“I wanted him to know that it wasn't your fault that things between us became a little awkward.”

Awkward, indeed. She didn't exactly regret running out, but she did regret that she'd avoided him since the incident.

“It's my fault, Malf- Draco,” she said. “I was confused. I needed time to sort things out.”

He nodded, looking disappointed.

“Well...” he said, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “I do hope that we can be friends, or at least be civil for Ron's sake,” he said.

She looked at him, noticing that he avoided her gaze. “No. No, I don't think so.”

He looked up sharply, his expression alarmed. “But...”

“I wouldn't do that for Ron's sake, and goodness knows that it's much easier to argue with you,” she said with an exaggerated sigh.

He opened his mouth, ready to protest, but she gave an innocent smile and continued before he could emit any sound. “But, if you'd prefer, I'd certainly try to be civil to a man I'm dating.”

It was amusing to watch is shocked expression turn into a rather too-pleased grin. She would have been annoyed, but she realized that her grin was just as smug. After all, she'd totally put him off-guard, for at least a few seconds, and that almost made up for the incident when she fell off the ladder – almost.

He stepped closer, still tentative, until she patted the spot on her bed, indicating for him to sit. Once he was settled, she said, “You've gotten under my skin, Mr Malfoy. Perhaps you've brainwashed me or Confunded me, just like you have the rest of my family.”

He appeared concerned. “Hopefully not exactly like the rest of your family. I do like them and all, but I don't think about them quite the same way.”

“Good,” she said, and with her good arm, she pulled him closer. “Because I don't quite want them to be thinking of kissing you, the way I've been thinking about it for the past few weeks.”

He smiled, leaned in, his face just a whisper away from hers. “Well, since you put it that way, Miss Weasley...” He paused, only increasing her anticipation, causing her to tilt her chin up toward him. “And, when you get out of here, we'll have to give it another go,” he said with a devilish smirk. He pulled away, much to her very obvious dismay, leaving her feeling just a bit furious with him, if the whole thing hadn't been so devilishly charming.

She huffed and pouted, but he only grinned in response, giving her a mock bow before he left the room. Slumping back onto her pillows, she decided that he was going to make her life quite interesting, if she managed not to strangle him.


x

“Ready?” he asked, his voice low, almost taunting.

She shuddered nervously, feeling like a young schoolgirl again. “I'm not sure. You don't think it's too soon? It's only been three months.”

He grinned, that slightly evil tilt to his lips that made her question his motives. “It's never too soon, love.”

“Prat,” she responded, with affection. “I'm just worried about the shoulder.”

“You've been doing your exercises and the Healer did say that you could go back to normal activity,” he replied persuasively, his eyebrows raising suggestively.

She tried to come up with another excuse, but failed miserably. She'd been putting him off for the past few weeks, despite the Healer saying that she needn't worry. “Yes, I know. It's just...” she paused, searching for the right words. “I'm just wondering how my brothers feel about it. You know how over-protective they can be.”

“All taken care of,” he said, offering his hand to her in invitation, waiting for her to accept his offer.

Tentatively she took his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. He gave her an encouraging smile. “Just don't be too rough,” she warned.

“I wouldn't dream of it,” he said, his impish grin returning. “I've seen your hexes, remember?”

“I said I was sorry about that,” she said, blushing in embarrassment. “I really was aiming for Fred.”

“Well, it was partly my fault,” he admitted. “Everyone else knew to duck out of the way.”

“It's called experience.”

He nodded, tugging her hand to hurry her along, since her conversation seemed to be slowing their progress toward the door. “Indeed, and that is our objective today – to get you some experience.”

She gave a dramatic sigh in response. “Yes, Mr Malfoy. And I suppose you are just the right person for the job?”

“You know I am,” he replied smugly, tugging her hand and pulling her close. He gave another devilish, superior grin as his arms wrapped around her waist. She felt the familiar warmth spread through her gut, which seemed to happen every time he held her since they'd begun dating three months ago.

He was smug, therefore part of her wanted to hex him, yet she could never resist him. This time was no exception. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over hers in a teasing manner, making her impatient, making her want him all the more. Finally, when she could take his teasing no longer and she found herself wanting to hex the prat, he pressed his lips against hers firmly, even possessively. It drove her positively mad with want each and every time. Yet, she loved him for it.

She loved him.

The epiphany struck her like a Bludger to the head and she tried to hide the drastic intake of breath that came with the realization. He didn't seem to notice, since he had moved his lips from hers to nuzzle her behind her ear at that particular moment.

“We should be going, love,” he whispered huskily into her ear, “before I continue with a completely different nefarious plan.” Then, before she could respond, he released her, grabbed her hand again and tugged her outside into the crisp, clear October sunshine.

Having finally succeeded in hauling her reluctant arse outside, his lips twisted into his favorite smug, yet mischievous grin and, at that moment, she knew that the evil streak within him would never be entirely redeemed. She could only hope to contain it a bit. She smacked him solidly on the arm. “Prat.”

A voice rang out from above them. “Hey, no public display of affection!”

She looked up to see Ron, flanked by Bill, George, Fred and Angelina, floating above, and could hardly contain her surprise, a smile lighting her face. “Are you all going to fly with me?” she called out to the group.

“Just a few drills, maybe some three on three if you're up to it,” Ron replied.

Knowing that she wasn't entirely alone in her efforts made her look forward to the workout that she'd been avoiding, that was, until her blond companion handed her a broom. She studied the item sceptically. “This isn't mine,” she said sourly. “It's almost like a children's broom.”

“It is,” he replied. “It's lighter, not sturdy enough for a real match, but it will be much easier to control, and less stress on your arm.”

She looked up, questioningly.

“No, it's not another gift from me,” he said, sounding defensive. “Ron talked with your Healer and asked. He and your brothers chipped in. Bill figures that his daughter will get to use it when she's a little older, so don't break it.”

“Oh, fine,” she said, with a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Well, we couldn't have asked for a nicer day.”

“Nope,” he agreed. “We won't get many more of these before winter sets in, so we should make the best of it.”

It was Ron that finally shouted back to hurry them along. “Well, are you two going to jabber all day, or are you going to get up here and fly with us?”

Grinning, she grabbed her light broom and mounted it as if she'd never been injured. “You bet!”

xoxoxo

An hour later, she was flying as if she'd never been injured, but she could tell she was tiring. The feeling of being in the air again had been exhilarating and, although there was still some soreness in her injured arm, she was feeling more like her old self. She was eager to get back in proper Quidditch form and this first foray after her injury gave her hope that she'd fully recover. But she also knew that she needed to work her bum off over the winter, or risk losing her spot on the Harpies when spring training began.

Her thoughts were pulled back to their scrimmage when George threw a bad pass, and her competitive instincts kicked in, making her reach farther than her shoulder allowed. She cringed in pain, and Fred made some rude remark to George about the quality of his aim.

“I'm a Beater, not a Chaser!” George shouted in return. Then, with a wicked grin at Ginny, he said, “Besides, I wouldn't dream of hurting her, otherwise we'll likely end up stuck with her working at the shop, and she'll scare off all the customers!”

Without answering, she flipped the tail end of her broom into George's, causing him to spin violently, knocking him off and landing him right in the middle of their mother's batch of Goblin Gourds. The colorful, small, pumpkin-like fruits immediately began beating on the interloper, causing George to yelp in mock pain. “Foul!” he shouted.

“You can't call 'foul' on your own teammate!” Fred shouted back.

The others stopped playing and flew over the spectacle, laughing. Ginny looked up to share a warm grin at her boyfriend, who was grinning back and nodding in approval. It had been a wonderful day.

She looked back at her brother, still attempting to free himself from the onslaught of gourds that were determined to do him bodily harm. “Maybe you should try out for Beater instead of Chaser next year,” George grumbled to her, as he crawled from the vegetation, laughing and brushing himself off.

“Only if I get to practice on you, dear brother,” she replied smartly.

“You better watch out, George,” Fred said. “Mum will hex you if you ruined her garden too badly. Those are meant for the All-Hallows celebration.”

“It's probably time I quit,” Ginny declared. “My arm is getting tired, and I don't want to re-injure anything.”

The group dismounted and Draco put an arm around her waist as they began walking back toward the house, George fighting off an errant gourd that seemed to be still upset at him.

“Yo, Malfoy,” Ron said. “Just because I'm all right with you dating my sister, doesn't mean I want to see any of it. From my point of view, she's supposed to remain single for the rest of her life.”

George freed himself from the last offending gourd, flinging the item at Ron's backside, making him yelp in surprise, in a rather feminine way.

Ginny chuckled, leaning closer into her boyfriend as they walked along, feeling the comfort of Draco's arm around her waist, and his warmth. She didn't have to look up at him to know that he was laughing at Ron's childishness as well, though, she also noticed that he wasn't doing anything to provoke her brother.

“Don't mind him, Ginny. If you need to stay over at Malfoy's again. I'll cover for you,” George said.

She blushed, feeling rather odd to have her older brothers make any insinuations about her love life – it was just, strange.

“She only fell asleep on the couch,” Draco said, coming to her defense and she leaned into him gratefully.

“There!" Ron said, pointing emphatically at Draco. “I'm perfectly fine with it. It's just tough to lie to Mum.”

The banter was perfect, just as it should be, and Ginny was enjoying every moment of it, even if some things were a bit embarrassing. “Don't worry, Ron,” Ginny said, in her best mock-soothing tone. “I'd cover for you if you ever stay out too long with Astoria.”

Fred helpfully added, “You would Ginny, but we all know that Ron hasn't even gotten past holding hands with her.”

Ron blushed furiously, basically confirming Fred's accusation, and began to sputter something along the lines that it was none of their business. “That's not true, and you know it. I just prefer to take things slow.”

“That's not what I hear from Astoria,” Ginny added, her face lighting in an evil grin.

Ron sputtered, at a total loss for words. “But, but... Draco, help me out, mate. You know I'm being a gentleman!”

“Asking me for help?” Draco appeared thoughtful for several seconds, even tapping his chin in a semi-serious manner to give proper dramatic effect. “Ummmm... No.”

Ron now was blushing furiously, and appearing completely embarrassed as the group laughed. “You know, Malfoy, as my best mate, you are supposed to back me up.”

“Not this time. When it comes to choosing between you and Ginny in a disagreement, I'll toss you under the Knight Bus every time. You know how she hexes.”

Ginny was grateful that her close proximity allowed her to give Draco a sharp elbow in the ribs.

“Ow!” he squeaked, causing Ron to point and laugh.

“She punches pretty well, too,” Ron stated.

While George continued to taunt Ron about his “gentlemanly conduct” and Ron continued to attempt to say something in defense, Draco leaned in, whispering devilishly in her ear. “You know, you wouldn't have to hide our nefarious activities from your mother if you moved out.”

She looked up sharply, seeing the mischief in his eyes, and a touch of hope. Was he asking her to move in with him? Her breath quickened, glad that their interaction went unnoticed because everyone was still focused on tormenting Ron.

They walked into the house, everyone in a jovial mood and Ron was saved from further humiliation when they realized that a visitor, dressed in bright red Auror robes, was seated in the kitchen with Molly, consuming biscuits and hot chocolate.

“Look who popped in for a visit!” Molly said, gesturing excitedly at the visitor, a huge grin on her face.

The Auror rose from his seat and turned around, and Ginny immediately recognized him, although he looked noticeably older than when she'd last seen him. “Harry!” she and Ron exclaimed simultaneously.

“Finally graduated, eh mate?” Ron asked cheerfully, happy to see his friend.

Harry's gaze fixated on Ron for just a moment and Ginny could see a matching delighted grin on Harry's face but, then, he looked up at the rest of the group. His grin immediately dropped when his gaze settled on the blond standing next to Ginny, partially hidden just behind Fred's shoulder. Suspicion and anger appeared on his face and he drew his wand with the speed of a trained Auror. “Malfoy!”

Ginny looked over at her boyfriend, whose previously happy expression had been replaced with a look of shock, although no matching anger was on his face. She jumped in between Harry and the blond, taking a protective stance. “Put that down, Harry!”

The look of shock on Harry's face was somewhat comic.

“Whoa, Harry, just a bit jumpy are you?” George asked.

“Auror training, George,” Fred responded. “Gives them all cat-like reflexes.”

“Nah, looks more like an allergic reaction to me, Fred.”

The twins remarks completely deflated the tense moment and Harry's wand slowly dropped to his side, although it remained in his hand. Ginny heard Draco chuckle nervously behind her, and she snorted a very inelegant laugh, allowing her to release the tension of the moment. As Draco's arm wrapped around her, pulling her close, she saw Harry's eyes open wide in shock.

Ron started laughing as he motioned in Harry's direction. “That's almost the same look you had, Ginny, when you first saw me walk in with Malfoy. Remember?”

She blushed, embarrassed by the memory, and reminded of how much her perspective on the universe had changed in the past year. Looking over at Harry, she could see how ridiculous she must have appeared. His expression showed shock, confusion, and more than a touch of disbelief. His mouth was opening and closing like a fish, and his hands were twitching a bit, as if he had no clue what to do, but it was clear he felt like he needed to do something – preferably something involving a wicked hex. If she'd looked anything like that, it was no wonder they had all laughed at her then. The current situation suddenly reminded her of Draco's words that laughter was the better choice and, now, she truly agreed.

Looking between Draco and Harry, it seemed that neither was willing to laugh about anything in the near future, because Harry was glaring daggers at Draco, and Draco was showing no emotion whatsoever, which Ginny took as being a bad sign.

It suddenly struck her that one of the constants in the universe was that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had never gotten along. Harry had hated Draco, and Draco's favorite sport in school, outside of Quidditch of course, was needling Harry Potter to distraction.

Granted, Draco had been a royal pain-in-the-arse to Ron also. But Draco's antagonism toward Ron had been driven by social prejudice and Ron's association with Harry. The rules had changed when Draco had simply outgrown his childhood issues with the Weasleys, because they'd never had any personal basis. If anything, Ron and Draco had much in common, having both grown up in the magical world, giving them a basis for building a relationship.

A year ago, Ginny had returned home with an ingrained dislike for Malfoy. He was still the same person, as could be noted by his enjoyment of provoking and needling her to distraction. Granted, his motives were no longer malicious, so both she and Ron learned to enjoy Malfoy's devilish streak as an endearing trait instead of a vice.

Ginny suddenly realized how the rules of the universe hadn't changed quite as radically as she'd originally thought. Her view of them had.

Ginny looked over at the twins and saw that they were sporting wicked grins as they studied the silent exchange between Draco and Harry, neither of whom was pleased to be in each other's company. She felt a similar knowing grin come to her face as she met Ron's confused expression. She stepped up to her boyfriend and gave him a reassuring kiss on the cheek, before turning back to the twins with a nod, effectively giving them permission to do whatever they wished.

Draco seemed confused by her action, but broke away from his staring contest with Harry to give her a small, grateful smile. Harry, on the other hand, was standing by the table, his jaw nearly falling to the floor in shock.

Ginny grinned. It was going to be fun to watch and see if the universe would allow yet another impossible constant to be changed, or at least twisted a little.