. . . . . .
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain
For promis'd joy.
- Robert Burns
. . . . . .
As the doors shut behind Ginny, Elise looked over at Draco, her eyes filled with concern. "Is something the matter with her?" she asked worriedly. "Did we upset her?"
Draco shook his head, arranging his face into a serious expression. "No," he said somberly. "She's just a bit stressed out. You know, she works a lot, and then coming here . . . parties this large can be overwhelming if you're not used to them." Elise nodded in understanding, and Draco smiled apologetically at her. "I'm going to go talk to her," he said, and headed out into the hall, his face still carefully serious.
Inside, though, he was celebrating. Ginny had been planning to refuse him all evening, but when it came to it, she'd panicked and fled, meaning her resolve was weakening. If he kept at it, he might just be able to convince her to marry him, after all.
He found her outside, standing at the top of the front stairs, gazing out at the stars. "Something they didn't teach us at Hogwarts," he said, and she jumped in surprise, "is that not everything falls neatly into the categories of 'the forces of darkness' and 'Saint Potter's brigade.'" She glared at him, and he shrugged and walked up to her side, looking out over the Stewart's park at the stars above.
"So," he said, his voice deceptively uninterested, "you're suddenly not sure that you want to break this engagement."
"Of course I do!" she retorted quickly. "I was just . . . I was just surprised."
Draco smiled. "So, Ginny," he began, but stopped when the door opened and several guests walked through. Not wanting to be interrupted, he looked around quickly, then grabbed Ginny's hand. "Come here," he said, and grabbed her hand to drag her down the stairs and around the side of the house, where a recession on the second floor formed a sort of balcony, on which the Stewarts had placed several statues. Ginny resisted very little. "James and I used to sit up here and talk when I came over to visit," Draco explained as he released her hand and pulled himself up onto a window sill. "No one will bother us here."
Clambering the rest of the way up, he turned back to look at Ginny. In the darkness she was little more than a black shape on the ground, but he felt sure that if he could see her, she would be glaring up at him with her hands on her hips. "Come up!" he called.
"You're kidding, right?" she asked, and began to walk away. With a sigh, he pulled out his wand and levitated Ginny into the air. She let out a surprised squeak, but did not say anything until she was safely on the roof, at which point she snatched Draco's wand out of his hand and dropped it over the edge of the roof. It seemed half-hearted, though.
Draco rolled his eyes at her. "Very mature, Weasel," he said snidely. "Now give it back."
She glared at him, but turned and point her wand toward the ground. "Accio wand," she said, and he thought she sounded rather put out.
Once he had his wand back, he seated himself on the roof and looked up at her expectantly. "Well?" he asked. "Talk to me, Weasel." She glared at him, then sighed and dropped onto a window ledge, covered her face with her hands, and sat in silence. Draco, watching her, found himself fascinated by the moonlight sparkling on the diamonds in the ring he'd given her.
Finally, she spoke. "Your friends are really nice, Draco," she said quietly, dropping her hands.
"And?" he prompted.
"And . . . they're not what I expected them to be. And . . . now I'm just confused. Not about marrying you, because I still don't want to, but because . . . I never saw it from the other side. I spent my whole life convinced I was right and now . . . now I just don't know."
"My friends aside," he said, turning to face her, "how do you feel about the rest of our deal? I mean, about getting to know me better. How do you feel about me?"
She looked at him a moment, then turned away. "You're also not what I expected you to be." He smiled until she added, "But I still refuse to marry you."
"Why?" he demanded. "What's not to like? You'll get to live in the Manor, you'll eat and dress far better than you do now, you can still work at that hospital of yours, and . . . I promise to be nice, and . . ." He thought a long moment. "And I'll guarantee you fifty thousand galleons after the divorce."
By wizarding law, divorcing witches rarely got very much money, so Draco thought the sum he'd promised her would impress her She didn't even look fazed. "It's not about the money, Malfoy," she said bitingly. "It's about marriage. It's about me taking your name and living under your roof and eating off your table and you becoming the most prominent person in my life. Marriage affects you for life, Malfoy. Even if it ended later, for the rest of my life, 'the former Mrs. Draco Malfoy' would a part of how people see me, of who I am. That's not something that you rush into lightly."
"Who cares how people think of you?" Draco asked unconcernedly. "And I really think you're overdramatizing it. It's just marriage."
"You have some strange ideas about what marriage amounts to, boy," Ginny said in disgust.
"Why shouldn't I?" Draco asked with a shrug. "Have you looked around recently? You're living in a dream world. Marriage never lasts. It doesn't make people happy. Marriage didn't save my parents." At this Ginny looked at him strangely, but he pressed on. "Nobody takes it seriously anymore. Divorce is a fact of life."
"Yes, but deciding it's necessary in the middle of a marriage is rather different than knowing you're going to divorce before the wedding even starts," Ginny said, shaking her head. "Draco, as charming and romantic as your views on marriage are, I think differently than you. I want . . . when I get married, I want it to be because I've found someone I can't live without. I want it to be someone that I will stand beside for all our lives. Didn't you see the Stewarts in there? Don't you want a relationship like that? To be still so in love after thirty years?"
Draco shrugged. "The Stewarts are different. I've always thought they were a little crazy, the way they are with each other."
"Well, then," replied Ginny softly, "I want to be crazy."
"Can't you start being crazy in a year and half?" Draco demanded. "That's all I ask. As soon as I'm twenty-five, you can take off and find your crazy, old-fashioned, hopelessly romantic knight. Just help me out a little until then."
"Wouldn't it bother you to be with someone you didn't love?"
"I don't think love's nearly as great as you make it out to be."
"I don't believe that," Ginny replied. "I don't want to waste two years of my life with someone I couldn't love."
Something about that stung him. He looked up at her face, shadowed in the darkness. "You couldn't love me, Virginia?"
She opened her mouth to reply, but then she hesitated, perhaps regretting her hasty words. "Draco-" Then she stopped. He could see her open her mouth, looking for words that weren't coming, then close it again.
"What?" he asked finally. She seemed to be trying to come up with something to defuse the situation, but she finally spoke, all she said was, "Ginevra."
"Ginevra?" he replied. She shook her head. "That's my name. Look, Draco, it's late. I've got to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow, all right?" Then she Apparated, leaving Draco alone in the darkness.
. . . . . .
Work the next day went by very slowly for Ginny. Glennis of course pressed her about her hasty departure the day before, and Ginny, not wanting to lie to her friend, tried to evade her questions. Her mind kept wandering back to Draco's offer- living in a castle, all her needs taken care of, and fifty thousand Galleons at the end? But she couldn't possibly say yes. How could she live with knowing that she'd given into the demands of Draco Malfoy, evil ferret extraordinaire, simply because he'd offered her ease and comfort and wealth? She couldn't.
And yet, during her lunch break, when she'd planned on going to the Ministry's law offices to see about what could be done, she found herself instead eating very slowly down in the break room, unable to make herself move. What was wrong with her?
But she knew what was wrong with her, somewhere inside. She was unsure of herself, of her denial, of everything. Oath aside, she knew that there were people who would consider her crazy for not accepting Draco's offer, since she had no prospects of marriage or even dating in sight, and hence had nothing to stay single for. And maybe they were right. Maybe, as Draco had said, marriage was just marriage.
And that was the other thing she was unsure about. Maybe Draco was right, and her views on marriage were as old-fashioned as the rules of chivalry that held her bound to him. She was, she admitted, an old-fashioned girl. Maybe her hopelessly romantic sensibilities were horribly, embarrassingly outdated. Maybe expecting to find a man she was so certain about was a hopeless cause, and she ought to take what happiness she could when she could get it. She'd be comfortable, and Draco wasn't that terrible, when it came down to it. Maybe she ought to accept him.
At the stroke of five o' clock, a small group of people burst onto Ginny's floor. She looked up from where she was gathering her things. "Ron, Hermione, Harry . . . what are you doing here? I was just about to leave . . ."
"We need to talk," Ron said forcefully.
Hermione put a hand on his arm to quiet him. "Ginny, we want you to come to the Burrow with us. Your mum made us a nice dinner, and we can all sit and talk."
Ginny looked between the Trio's faces for a moment, then hid a sigh. Apparently they all knew. They were smiling, but there was a kind of grim determination behind Ron's eyes that told her everything. This was definitely not part of the plan. She was a little afraid to see what Ron would intend to do. Perhaps it came from growing up with so many brothers, but Ron tended to think the best way to solve things was with force. Forcing an innocent smile, Ginny gathered her things and followed them out the door.
Back at the Burrow, they'd barely sat down at the kitchen table before Ron burst out talking, apparently trying to casually bring the conversation around to his real question. "So, did you do anything fun last night?"
Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. Nothing too exciting."
"Really," Ron scoffed, slamming his fork back down on his table.
Hermione, obviously sensing that things were not going anywhere, leaned forward. "Let's get right to the point. Ginny, your brother wanted to bring you here because we heard something from one of our co-workers."
"Richard Moore, right?" Ginny asked with a sigh. "Yes, I saw him last night. He was dead sloshed and had to be carried away."
"Yeah," Ron said, "but what we're worried about is where he saw you. Ginny, he said he saw you at a party full of Death Eaters." He was leaning forward, his ears quickly turning a dangerous shade of pink.
"Ron, Voldemort's dead. There are no Death Eaters anymore," Ginny sighed.
"I know," Hermione said. "But that's not the point. The point is, Richard said he saw you with Draco Malfoy, and these boys are wondering if your being there had something to do with him."
"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, defensively and awkwardly, unable to lie well to her friends. She leaned back a little and thanked her lucky stars that the chain she was wearing was still hidden under her robes. She wasn't sure why she she'd decided to wear Draco's ring on a chain around her neck, but what she was sure of was that Ron would not be happy to see it. "Why do you think I would go anywhere with him?"
"Exactly!" Ron said, hitting the table. "So he brought you there against his will, didn't he? I knew it! Harry, get your wand. We need to go pay Mr. Malfoy a visit."
"No!" Ginny shouted without knowing why. She leaned across the table to grab Ron's arm, and as she leaned the ring tumbled out from under her robes. She froze.
Ron didn't notice it at all, as was his way, but Harry, sitting next to her, did. "Ginny?" he asked slowly, addressing her for the first time that evening. "What is that?"
"It's a ring," Ginny said, sitting back in her chair. She went to tuck the ring back under her work robes, but Harry grabbed it first to examine it. "Ginny," he said in surprise, "this is a wedding ring."
"No, it's just . . . it was a gift from someone. I didn't want to lose it. Okay?" She grabbed it from Harry and stuffed it into her robes. "And leave Draco alone. I went to the party with him of my own volition. And . . . and the ring is a gift from him, for helping him with a difficult situation, which I don't really think is your business." There, that was mostly true.
"No," Hermione said, shaking her head, "I know that's an engagement band. I saw it in a window in Diagon Alley this week."
"Why were you looking at wedding rings?" Ron asked her, and her face flamed red.
Harry grabbed Ginny's hand. "Did Draco give you a wedding ring?" he asked her in disbelief. "Draco Malfoy?"
"No," Ginny said, wishing she'd never mentioned he'd given her the ring at all. "Look, you're all making this into something far bigger than it is. I mean, you drag me over here to accuse me of all sorts of things, and all you have is the word of a drunk. How do you think that makes me feel, Ron?" She hoped the poor little sister card would convince him to drop the subject. Guilt always did work wonders on Ron.
"But you were at the party, right?" Harry asked. "Draco Malfoy dragged you there and proposed to you?"
"No, Harry, you've got it all wrong. I was at a party last night, just a regular party, and there were no Death Eaters there, because the war is over and there are no Death Eaters. And Draco Malfoy, of all people, certainly did not propose to me at that party." No, the proposal came that afternoon, she thought, a little hysterically.
Hermione looked convinced, but Ron and Harry were still eyeing her warily. "I'm not really sure I buy that story, Ginny," Ron said. He observed her a few moments while she tried to look as trustworthy as possible. "Right, then," he said finally. "I'll believe you. On one condition," he added before she could speak. "I want you to take Veritaserum."
"What?" Hermione and Ginny demanded at the same time. "Ron, I'm your sister, not a common criminal!" Ginny shrieked.
Hermione was looking between Harry and Ron with fire in her eyes. "Are you joking?" she cried. "You would make Ginny, who we've all known for years, take a truth potion? Ron, that is inexcusably rude. I can't believe you'd suggest it."
Ron looked taken aback that Hermione had taken Ginny's side in this, and Ginny hid a relieved smile. Ron almost never crossed Hermione, especially when she felt so strongly about something. After a few moments, though, he frowned. "But why won't you take it, unless you have something to hide? Wait, Malfoy hasn't bewitched you, has he?" He peered closely at her, as though somehow he'd be able to see any enchantments on her.
Ginny quickly jerked away from him. "Wow, you guys, you're getting a little carried away, don't you think?"
"He did do something, didn't he?" Harry demanded.
"That slimy, dark, Death Eater trash!" Ron growled. "I'll knock that smug smirk off his face."
"That seems a little harsh," Hermione said, trying to be fair. "I mean, he never was a Death Eater, was he? He did join the Order, after all."
Ron, worked up and angry, turned on Hermione then. "Whose side are you on, Hermione? I can't believe you'd stick up for him. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one here."
"Ron!" Ginny broke in, shocked, looking at Hermione's hurt face. Ron hadn't spoken that harshly to her in a long time, Ginny knew, and her heart ached for her friend, who still hadn't worked up the courage to tell Ron that she loved him. She glared at Ron. "What is wrong with you?" she demanded.
"What's wrong with you?" he shot back. "Why won't you tell us what really happened, so I can do something about it? I'm your brother! That's what I'm supposed to do!"
"Oh, come off it!" Ginny said, truly annoyed. "How do you know I didn't propose to Draco myself?"
That shut everyone up. Ginny stared around at them with wide eyes. She certainly hadn't intended to say that. But, a hysterical little voice in her mind said, it has the added bonus of being absolutely true! Well, it was certainly too late to take it back. She had to say something, quick, while she still had their attention.
Ginny quickly thought through her options. If Ron chose to perform a spell to see if she had any lingering enchantments, he would pick up on the wizard oath, which would cause a lot of difficult questions. And if she did take the Veritaserum- and she felt that Ron would get the whole family in on it, and they would somehow trick or coerce her into it eventually- they would all find out how Draco was forcing her into this engagement. And if they did find out, the very least that she could expect was that they would insist on taking legal action against him, and it would turn into the messy affair and public scandal she'd wanted so much to avoid. It was far more likely, however, that Ron, ever the hothead, would try to take revenge in far more personal and physical fashion, one that would end up with one or both of them hurt and probably in trouble with the Ministry, as they were both employees. She didn't want Ron hurt or in trouble, and, she found as she pondered it, she didn't want Draco to be, either.
The thing to do, then, was to lose a small battle in order to win the war- to distract them from the big picture, to strategically release information. "Look," she said, and found she didn't have to feign the irritation she wanted to show, "yes, I went to the party with Draco. It was his friend's parents' wedding anniversary. We ate hors d'oeuvres and drank punch and talked to people. I was home by eleven. Is that a crime?" That little admission, she hoped, would distract them from the whole engagement ring subject.
And it seemed to work. "Why on earth would you go to a party with him?" Ron demanded.
Ginny gestured exasperatedly. "I was talking to him, an old friend called and invited him to the party, and he invited me. I had no plans for the evening. I said yes."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You thought Draco Malfoy would be a pleasant date?"
Ginny shrugged. "Why on earth not? He's well-bred, well-educated. He's really funny, and he can be nice when he puts his mind to it."
She'd hoped she was done, but apparently Harry had to speak up. "Since when have you been friends with him?"
Again, she found it best to sidestep the question by bringing up another subject. "Apparently this is going to shock you, Harry, but I have a life that I run all by myself. I'm sorry I don't inform you of every aspect of my existence. Maybe you'd like a weekly progress report?"
Harry looked abashed, and Ginny saw the perfect opportunity for her escape. She dropped her head into her hands. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said. "I don't mean to snap at you. I just get frustrated when I'm being interrogated and distrusted by my friends. I haven't done anything wrong. Okay, I went to a party with Draco Malfoy, but that doesn't mean I'm about to move to Romania to study the Dark Arts. It was just a party, all right?"
She stood to leave. Neither Harry nor Hermione moved to stop her, apparently convinced by her words. Ron, however, had one last thing to say. "Then what about the ring?" He seemed far less intense about the whole affair than he had been earlier.
"I told you," she said. "It was a gift. I did not accept it from Draco as an agreement to marry him. So everything's fine, see? Your Richard Moore got you upset about nothing." She smiled lopsidedly at her brother. "I'm a big girl now, Ron. You've got to learn to trust me." Pulling her wand out in preparation to Apparate, she smiled around at the Trio. "I'll see you all on Sunday, right?" And then she was gone.
When she appeared got back to her apartment, she dropped her head with a sigh and began to massage her temples. "None of that was exactly a lie, was it?" she asked the fairy painting on her wall. The fairy didn't answer. Ginny didn't blame her.
Ginny tossed and turned until nearly midnight that night. Part of it was because of her guilt, part because of her uncertainty, but a lot of it was because of the neighbors upstairs. I hate apartment buildings, she thought for what was not the first time. Various charms could block the noise, but she hadn't discovered anything yet that would solve the vibrations she could feel from the pounding bass of the music they always played. And they were always having parties, and her lights would shake from the dancing upstairs. Someday, she told herself, also for what was not the first time, I will own my own house. Medi-witches, unfortunately, were not paid nearly what they ought to be, in her opinion, and with the wizarding economy being what it was, she would not be able to afford any house, even a small one, until she was promoted to Full Medi-witch. Unfortunately, things being as they were, she couldn't expect that for another five or six years.
Which led, of course, back to Draco. He had offered her a house- a castle!- and she was sure he didn't make a lot of noise. And the fifty thousand galleons he'd promised her would certainly come in handy. She wasn't quite poor, but she definitely wasn't rich, either. It was a generous offer- more than most witches got after a divorce, she knew. With fifty thousand galleons, and the money she would save on rent and food while she was living with Draco, she could definitely afford something nicer after the divorce.
Another thing her mind kept coming back to was Draco himself. She hadn't been lying to Hermione about that- Draco was smart and funny and occasionally nice. Conversation always flowed easily around him, though that conversation often consisted of them arguing. In truth, she had always gotten on with him better than any of the rest of the Order had been able to.
And her family would get over it, eventually. Ron would have the worst time with it, or possibly Harry, but she knew the rest would not be upset over it for long. Her father had hated Lucius, but he was a strong believer in not blaming children for the mistakes of the parents. And her mother would be so happy to have her baby girl married that she would soon get over her disappointment that it wasn't to Harry. Bill and Charlie knew Draco only as the somewhat obnoxious young man from the Order, and they would forgive obnoxiousness. Percy never came home anyway. And Fred and George- she smiled at the thought. She knew that they would be more understanding than anyone else.
Ginny's brow furrowed as she stared out the window. Was she seriously considering marrying Draco? She stared hard at the moon outside, as though hoping it would give her guidance. Then her eyes narrowed as a black shape passed in front of it. It was an owl, who landed at her window and tapped impatiently with its beak. It was a large, stately bird, and she wondered, with a sudden catch of her breath, if it was from Draco. What would he say to her after what she'd said to him the last time they'd spoken? She hadn't meant to imply that he was somehow unlovable. She just meant . . .
Her train of thought trailed off, and she frowned a little as she got near enough to the bird to see it was Hedwig. With a sigh Ginny pulled the note off her leg and patted her head absent-mindedly. The owl settled onto her desk, waiting to deliver a reply, while Ginny sunk into a chair and opened the note.
Dear Ginny,
I'm sorry that things happened the way they did today. We never meant to question your actions or meddle in your life.
She smiled a little. Harry really was a good man. She continued reading.
However, I have to admit, I don't understand why you've been spending time with him. I know you think well of him, and I want to trust your judgment, but I can't help being afraid that you don't really understand him or the situation-
Ginny didn't read the rest of the note, because she was too busy crumpling it up and throwing it away. Apparently Harry was also as stupid as anyone else. She sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose.
Hedwig hooted softly, as though in question, and Ginny looked up at the white owl, feeling very suddenly incredibly frustrated. "I'm just so sick of having everyone stick their noses in every corner of my life," she said in response. "I mean, I'm an adult! I have a job and my own apartment, I pay all my own bills; I think I've shown I'm more than capable of taking care of myself. But no, everyone still treats me like little silly Ginny. Even if this relationship is a sham, I wish they'd respect me enough to trust my decision to be in it." She paused. "Even though I didn't really decide to be in it," she added, and Hedwig hooted in agreement.
All of the thoughts and confusion that had been swirling through her mind the past day suddenly seemed to fit into place then, and she frowned. "That's it. I'm leaving. Hedwig, I'm afraid I don't have anything for you to take to Harry." She grabbed her purse off her table, then rifled through her desk until she found the copy of her Ministry-issued birth certificate. Picking up a chocolate bar, she fed a bit to the white owl who was still observing her through inscrutable eyes. "You're a good listener, Hedwig. I'll send you a postcard after I'm married, all right?"
Shooing the owl outside, she shut and locked the window tight, then went to get dressed. It was her wedding, after all, and she wanted to look nice.
Half an hour later, she was pounding at the door of Malfoy Manor. As she'd expected, the house elves were apparently not yet asleep, as a very alert and well-pressed one answered her knock. "I'm here for Draco," she said. "If he's asleep, wake him up." She paused a moment. "Please." Just because I'm going to be a Malfoy doesn't mean I have to be rude like one, she thought. The elf looked shocked, but bowed deeply and scurried away.
She had only been waiting in the lobby a few minutes when Draco appeared at the top of one of the staircases. His tie was undone and his hair was a bit messy, but she was fairly sure he hadn't gone to bed yet. The way he was looking at her was definitely a step back from the friendliness, or at least familiarity, that they'd acquired over the last few days, but she supposed that was to be expected. She had been a bit rude to him the last time they'd met.
He walked slowly down the stairs toward her, his gray eyes taking in her black Muggle dress. "Were I a more nosy person," he said a rather biting voice, "I might ask what you're doing in my house at midnight, wearing that Muggle thing."
She brushed the tone and words off, having learned over the past few days that his speaking that way didn't necessarily mean he was angry. "Look, Draco, do you still want to get married?"
There was silence for a long moment as Draco looked at Ginny in surprise, and she congratulated herself on unnerving the unflappable Lord Malfoy. Then he recovered. "What, you finally realized that it's the best offer a Weasley could hope to receive?" He smiled a bit ferally. "Then I suppose the answer is yes. It's still the best solution to my current situation."
"Here's the deal, then," she said seriously. Draco's eyes widened at her words, but he said nothing. "First, you sign an agreement that says I get fifty thousand galleons when this is all over. Second, I get to continue working at St. Mungo's, and all the money I make there is mine and you never hear of it. Third, you have to be nice to my family and friends- and especially Harry- the whole time. Fourth, you never try to touch me. We don't even sleep in the same room. I'm still your wife, though, and I get all the privileges wives usually do. I get free run of the house, use of everything in and at the manor, and authority over the servants, including the right to free house elves, and I receive spending money whenever I ask for it." She stopped and pondered a moment. "Within reason," she added, feeling it very generous of her to do so. "And also-" here she paused- "I know this is probably stupid, but I'd like it if people didn't know the circumstances surrounding this whole messy business. I'd like you not to tell people about the oath and the money and all. I'd like to have some shred of dignity through all this.
"And in return, I will marry you and play the dutiful and loving wife whenever we are around other people, and I will never tell anyone that you married me because you might lose your money and you thought that being poor was even worse than being married to a Weasley." Draco raised an eyebrow at this, but Ginny ignored him and pushed on. "There's one more thing. We have to elope tonight."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Anxious, my little poppet?" he asked, smirking, as he slowly advanced on her. "What about all that separate bedroom stuff? Were you just playing hard to get?"
"Oh, there's another thing I forgot to mention," Ginny smiled. "No being foul." She pushed him away lightly, and he moved back a few steps, looking smug. "I want to elope tonight, because if we wait and try to plan something I'll have to endure months of anguish from my family, and I don't really want to." She frowned. "Besides, I feel bad having people come to a wedding and buy gifts for what's really just a sham of a marriage."
Draco looked at her a long moment, and she could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. After a few moments, he smiled. "Deal," he said, putting out his hand to shake.
She looked at him seriously. "Are you sure? I'm going to ask you to swear on it, and then it will be a wizard's oath, and we happen to have personal experience with how difficult those can be."
This time Draco thought about it longer before nodding. Then he looked straight at Ginny and proclaimed, "I swear."
A silent breeze blew around them, and Ginny nodded as though satisfied. "So, you know anywhere that will be open this late?" she asked.
"Hold on," Draco said. "Even if we're eloping, I'm going to find you some nicer robes than that; we'll go look through my mother's closet." He turned and began climbing the staircases. "Follow me, Mrs. Malfoy," he said wickedly, and Ginny, following after him, found herself hoping desperately she hadn't just made the worst mistake of her life.
. . . . . .
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain
For promis'd joy.
- Robert Burns
. . . . . .
As the doors shut behind Ginny, Elise looked over at Draco, her eyes filled with concern. "Is something the matter with her?" she asked worriedly. "Did we upset her?"
Draco shook his head, arranging his face into a serious expression. "No," he said somberly. "She's just a bit stressed out. You know, she works a lot, and then coming here . . . parties this large can be overwhelming if you're not used to them." Elise nodded in understanding, and Draco smiled apologetically at her. "I'm going to go talk to her," he said, and headed out into the hall, his face still carefully serious.
Inside, though, he was celebrating. Ginny had been planning to refuse him all evening, but when it came to it, she'd panicked and fled, meaning her resolve was weakening. If he kept at it, he might just be able to convince her to marry him, after all.
He found her outside, standing at the top of the front stairs, gazing out at the stars. "Something they didn't teach us at Hogwarts," he said, and she jumped in surprise, "is that not everything falls neatly into the categories of 'the forces of darkness' and 'Saint Potter's brigade.'" She glared at him, and he shrugged and walked up to her side, looking out over the Stewart's park at the stars above.
"So," he said, his voice deceptively uninterested, "you're suddenly not sure that you want to break this engagement."
"Of course I do!" she retorted quickly. "I was just . . . I was just surprised."
Draco smiled. "So, Ginny," he began, but stopped when the door opened and several guests walked through. Not wanting to be interrupted, he looked around quickly, then grabbed Ginny's hand. "Come here," he said, and grabbed her hand to drag her down the stairs and around the side of the house, where a recession on the second floor formed a sort of balcony, on which the Stewarts had placed several statues. Ginny resisted very little. "James and I used to sit up here and talk when I came over to visit," Draco explained as he released her hand and pulled himself up onto a window sill. "No one will bother us here."
Clambering the rest of the way up, he turned back to look at Ginny. In the darkness she was little more than a black shape on the ground, but he felt sure that if he could see her, she would be glaring up at him with her hands on her hips. "Come up!" he called.
"You're kidding, right?" she asked, and began to walk away. With a sigh, he pulled out his wand and levitated Ginny into the air. She let out a surprised squeak, but did not say anything until she was safely on the roof, at which point she snatched Draco's wand out of his hand and dropped it over the edge of the roof. It seemed half-hearted, though.
Draco rolled his eyes at her. "Very mature, Weasel," he said snidely. "Now give it back."
She glared at him, but turned and point her wand toward the ground. "Accio wand," she said, and he thought she sounded rather put out.
Once he had his wand back, he seated himself on the roof and looked up at her expectantly. "Well?" he asked. "Talk to me, Weasel." She glared at him, then sighed and dropped onto a window ledge, covered her face with her hands, and sat in silence. Draco, watching her, found himself fascinated by the moonlight sparkling on the diamonds in the ring he'd given her.
Finally, she spoke. "Your friends are really nice, Draco," she said quietly, dropping her hands.
"And?" he prompted.
"And . . . they're not what I expected them to be. And . . . now I'm just confused. Not about marrying you, because I still don't want to, but because . . . I never saw it from the other side. I spent my whole life convinced I was right and now . . . now I just don't know."
"My friends aside," he said, turning to face her, "how do you feel about the rest of our deal? I mean, about getting to know me better. How do you feel about me?"
She looked at him a moment, then turned away. "You're also not what I expected you to be." He smiled until she added, "But I still refuse to marry you."
"Why?" he demanded. "What's not to like? You'll get to live in the Manor, you'll eat and dress far better than you do now, you can still work at that hospital of yours, and . . . I promise to be nice, and . . ." He thought a long moment. "And I'll guarantee you fifty thousand galleons after the divorce."
By wizarding law, divorcing witches rarely got very much money, so Draco thought the sum he'd promised her would impress her She didn't even look fazed. "It's not about the money, Malfoy," she said bitingly. "It's about marriage. It's about me taking your name and living under your roof and eating off your table and you becoming the most prominent person in my life. Marriage affects you for life, Malfoy. Even if it ended later, for the rest of my life, 'the former Mrs. Draco Malfoy' would a part of how people see me, of who I am. That's not something that you rush into lightly."
"Who cares how people think of you?" Draco asked unconcernedly. "And I really think you're overdramatizing it. It's just marriage."
"You have some strange ideas about what marriage amounts to, boy," Ginny said in disgust.
"Why shouldn't I?" Draco asked with a shrug. "Have you looked around recently? You're living in a dream world. Marriage never lasts. It doesn't make people happy. Marriage didn't save my parents." At this Ginny looked at him strangely, but he pressed on. "Nobody takes it seriously anymore. Divorce is a fact of life."
"Yes, but deciding it's necessary in the middle of a marriage is rather different than knowing you're going to divorce before the wedding even starts," Ginny said, shaking her head. "Draco, as charming and romantic as your views on marriage are, I think differently than you. I want . . . when I get married, I want it to be because I've found someone I can't live without. I want it to be someone that I will stand beside for all our lives. Didn't you see the Stewarts in there? Don't you want a relationship like that? To be still so in love after thirty years?"
Draco shrugged. "The Stewarts are different. I've always thought they were a little crazy, the way they are with each other."
"Well, then," replied Ginny softly, "I want to be crazy."
"Can't you start being crazy in a year and half?" Draco demanded. "That's all I ask. As soon as I'm twenty-five, you can take off and find your crazy, old-fashioned, hopelessly romantic knight. Just help me out a little until then."
"Wouldn't it bother you to be with someone you didn't love?"
"I don't think love's nearly as great as you make it out to be."
"I don't believe that," Ginny replied. "I don't want to waste two years of my life with someone I couldn't love."
Something about that stung him. He looked up at her face, shadowed in the darkness. "You couldn't love me, Virginia?"
She opened her mouth to reply, but then she hesitated, perhaps regretting her hasty words. "Draco-" Then she stopped. He could see her open her mouth, looking for words that weren't coming, then close it again.
"What?" he asked finally. She seemed to be trying to come up with something to defuse the situation, but she finally spoke, all she said was, "Ginevra."
"Ginevra?" he replied. She shook her head. "That's my name. Look, Draco, it's late. I've got to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow, all right?" Then she Apparated, leaving Draco alone in the darkness.
. . . . . .
Work the next day went by very slowly for Ginny. Glennis of course pressed her about her hasty departure the day before, and Ginny, not wanting to lie to her friend, tried to evade her questions. Her mind kept wandering back to Draco's offer- living in a castle, all her needs taken care of, and fifty thousand Galleons at the end? But she couldn't possibly say yes. How could she live with knowing that she'd given into the demands of Draco Malfoy, evil ferret extraordinaire, simply because he'd offered her ease and comfort and wealth? She couldn't.
And yet, during her lunch break, when she'd planned on going to the Ministry's law offices to see about what could be done, she found herself instead eating very slowly down in the break room, unable to make herself move. What was wrong with her?
But she knew what was wrong with her, somewhere inside. She was unsure of herself, of her denial, of everything. Oath aside, she knew that there were people who would consider her crazy for not accepting Draco's offer, since she had no prospects of marriage or even dating in sight, and hence had nothing to stay single for. And maybe they were right. Maybe, as Draco had said, marriage was just marriage.
And that was the other thing she was unsure about. Maybe Draco was right, and her views on marriage were as old-fashioned as the rules of chivalry that held her bound to him. She was, she admitted, an old-fashioned girl. Maybe her hopelessly romantic sensibilities were horribly, embarrassingly outdated. Maybe expecting to find a man she was so certain about was a hopeless cause, and she ought to take what happiness she could when she could get it. She'd be comfortable, and Draco wasn't that terrible, when it came down to it. Maybe she ought to accept him.
At the stroke of five o' clock, a small group of people burst onto Ginny's floor. She looked up from where she was gathering her things. "Ron, Hermione, Harry . . . what are you doing here? I was just about to leave . . ."
"We need to talk," Ron said forcefully.
Hermione put a hand on his arm to quiet him. "Ginny, we want you to come to the Burrow with us. Your mum made us a nice dinner, and we can all sit and talk."
Ginny looked between the Trio's faces for a moment, then hid a sigh. Apparently they all knew. They were smiling, but there was a kind of grim determination behind Ron's eyes that told her everything. This was definitely not part of the plan. She was a little afraid to see what Ron would intend to do. Perhaps it came from growing up with so many brothers, but Ron tended to think the best way to solve things was with force. Forcing an innocent smile, Ginny gathered her things and followed them out the door.
Back at the Burrow, they'd barely sat down at the kitchen table before Ron burst out talking, apparently trying to casually bring the conversation around to his real question. "So, did you do anything fun last night?"
Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. Nothing too exciting."
"Really," Ron scoffed, slamming his fork back down on his table.
Hermione, obviously sensing that things were not going anywhere, leaned forward. "Let's get right to the point. Ginny, your brother wanted to bring you here because we heard something from one of our co-workers."
"Richard Moore, right?" Ginny asked with a sigh. "Yes, I saw him last night. He was dead sloshed and had to be carried away."
"Yeah," Ron said, "but what we're worried about is where he saw you. Ginny, he said he saw you at a party full of Death Eaters." He was leaning forward, his ears quickly turning a dangerous shade of pink.
"Ron, Voldemort's dead. There are no Death Eaters anymore," Ginny sighed.
"I know," Hermione said. "But that's not the point. The point is, Richard said he saw you with Draco Malfoy, and these boys are wondering if your being there had something to do with him."
"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, defensively and awkwardly, unable to lie well to her friends. She leaned back a little and thanked her lucky stars that the chain she was wearing was still hidden under her robes. She wasn't sure why she she'd decided to wear Draco's ring on a chain around her neck, but what she was sure of was that Ron would not be happy to see it. "Why do you think I would go anywhere with him?"
"Exactly!" Ron said, hitting the table. "So he brought you there against his will, didn't he? I knew it! Harry, get your wand. We need to go pay Mr. Malfoy a visit."
"No!" Ginny shouted without knowing why. She leaned across the table to grab Ron's arm, and as she leaned the ring tumbled out from under her robes. She froze.
Ron didn't notice it at all, as was his way, but Harry, sitting next to her, did. "Ginny?" he asked slowly, addressing her for the first time that evening. "What is that?"
"It's a ring," Ginny said, sitting back in her chair. She went to tuck the ring back under her work robes, but Harry grabbed it first to examine it. "Ginny," he said in surprise, "this is a wedding ring."
"No, it's just . . . it was a gift from someone. I didn't want to lose it. Okay?" She grabbed it from Harry and stuffed it into her robes. "And leave Draco alone. I went to the party with him of my own volition. And . . . and the ring is a gift from him, for helping him with a difficult situation, which I don't really think is your business." There, that was mostly true.
"No," Hermione said, shaking her head, "I know that's an engagement band. I saw it in a window in Diagon Alley this week."
"Why were you looking at wedding rings?" Ron asked her, and her face flamed red.
Harry grabbed Ginny's hand. "Did Draco give you a wedding ring?" he asked her in disbelief. "Draco Malfoy?"
"No," Ginny said, wishing she'd never mentioned he'd given her the ring at all. "Look, you're all making this into something far bigger than it is. I mean, you drag me over here to accuse me of all sorts of things, and all you have is the word of a drunk. How do you think that makes me feel, Ron?" She hoped the poor little sister card would convince him to drop the subject. Guilt always did work wonders on Ron.
"But you were at the party, right?" Harry asked. "Draco Malfoy dragged you there and proposed to you?"
"No, Harry, you've got it all wrong. I was at a party last night, just a regular party, and there were no Death Eaters there, because the war is over and there are no Death Eaters. And Draco Malfoy, of all people, certainly did not propose to me at that party." No, the proposal came that afternoon, she thought, a little hysterically.
Hermione looked convinced, but Ron and Harry were still eyeing her warily. "I'm not really sure I buy that story, Ginny," Ron said. He observed her a few moments while she tried to look as trustworthy as possible. "Right, then," he said finally. "I'll believe you. On one condition," he added before she could speak. "I want you to take Veritaserum."
"What?" Hermione and Ginny demanded at the same time. "Ron, I'm your sister, not a common criminal!" Ginny shrieked.
Hermione was looking between Harry and Ron with fire in her eyes. "Are you joking?" she cried. "You would make Ginny, who we've all known for years, take a truth potion? Ron, that is inexcusably rude. I can't believe you'd suggest it."
Ron looked taken aback that Hermione had taken Ginny's side in this, and Ginny hid a relieved smile. Ron almost never crossed Hermione, especially when she felt so strongly about something. After a few moments, though, he frowned. "But why won't you take it, unless you have something to hide? Wait, Malfoy hasn't bewitched you, has he?" He peered closely at her, as though somehow he'd be able to see any enchantments on her.
Ginny quickly jerked away from him. "Wow, you guys, you're getting a little carried away, don't you think?"
"He did do something, didn't he?" Harry demanded.
"That slimy, dark, Death Eater trash!" Ron growled. "I'll knock that smug smirk off his face."
"That seems a little harsh," Hermione said, trying to be fair. "I mean, he never was a Death Eater, was he? He did join the Order, after all."
Ron, worked up and angry, turned on Hermione then. "Whose side are you on, Hermione? I can't believe you'd stick up for him. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one here."
"Ron!" Ginny broke in, shocked, looking at Hermione's hurt face. Ron hadn't spoken that harshly to her in a long time, Ginny knew, and her heart ached for her friend, who still hadn't worked up the courage to tell Ron that she loved him. She glared at Ron. "What is wrong with you?" she demanded.
"What's wrong with you?" he shot back. "Why won't you tell us what really happened, so I can do something about it? I'm your brother! That's what I'm supposed to do!"
"Oh, come off it!" Ginny said, truly annoyed. "How do you know I didn't propose to Draco myself?"
That shut everyone up. Ginny stared around at them with wide eyes. She certainly hadn't intended to say that. But, a hysterical little voice in her mind said, it has the added bonus of being absolutely true! Well, it was certainly too late to take it back. She had to say something, quick, while she still had their attention.
Ginny quickly thought through her options. If Ron chose to perform a spell to see if she had any lingering enchantments, he would pick up on the wizard oath, which would cause a lot of difficult questions. And if she did take the Veritaserum- and she felt that Ron would get the whole family in on it, and they would somehow trick or coerce her into it eventually- they would all find out how Draco was forcing her into this engagement. And if they did find out, the very least that she could expect was that they would insist on taking legal action against him, and it would turn into the messy affair and public scandal she'd wanted so much to avoid. It was far more likely, however, that Ron, ever the hothead, would try to take revenge in far more personal and physical fashion, one that would end up with one or both of them hurt and probably in trouble with the Ministry, as they were both employees. She didn't want Ron hurt or in trouble, and, she found as she pondered it, she didn't want Draco to be, either.
The thing to do, then, was to lose a small battle in order to win the war- to distract them from the big picture, to strategically release information. "Look," she said, and found she didn't have to feign the irritation she wanted to show, "yes, I went to the party with Draco. It was his friend's parents' wedding anniversary. We ate hors d'oeuvres and drank punch and talked to people. I was home by eleven. Is that a crime?" That little admission, she hoped, would distract them from the whole engagement ring subject.
And it seemed to work. "Why on earth would you go to a party with him?" Ron demanded.
Ginny gestured exasperatedly. "I was talking to him, an old friend called and invited him to the party, and he invited me. I had no plans for the evening. I said yes."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You thought Draco Malfoy would be a pleasant date?"
Ginny shrugged. "Why on earth not? He's well-bred, well-educated. He's really funny, and he can be nice when he puts his mind to it."
She'd hoped she was done, but apparently Harry had to speak up. "Since when have you been friends with him?"
Again, she found it best to sidestep the question by bringing up another subject. "Apparently this is going to shock you, Harry, but I have a life that I run all by myself. I'm sorry I don't inform you of every aspect of my existence. Maybe you'd like a weekly progress report?"
Harry looked abashed, and Ginny saw the perfect opportunity for her escape. She dropped her head into her hands. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said. "I don't mean to snap at you. I just get frustrated when I'm being interrogated and distrusted by my friends. I haven't done anything wrong. Okay, I went to a party with Draco Malfoy, but that doesn't mean I'm about to move to Romania to study the Dark Arts. It was just a party, all right?"
She stood to leave. Neither Harry nor Hermione moved to stop her, apparently convinced by her words. Ron, however, had one last thing to say. "Then what about the ring?" He seemed far less intense about the whole affair than he had been earlier.
"I told you," she said. "It was a gift. I did not accept it from Draco as an agreement to marry him. So everything's fine, see? Your Richard Moore got you upset about nothing." She smiled lopsidedly at her brother. "I'm a big girl now, Ron. You've got to learn to trust me." Pulling her wand out in preparation to Apparate, she smiled around at the Trio. "I'll see you all on Sunday, right?" And then she was gone.
When she appeared got back to her apartment, she dropped her head with a sigh and began to massage her temples. "None of that was exactly a lie, was it?" she asked the fairy painting on her wall. The fairy didn't answer. Ginny didn't blame her.
Ginny tossed and turned until nearly midnight that night. Part of it was because of her guilt, part because of her uncertainty, but a lot of it was because of the neighbors upstairs. I hate apartment buildings, she thought for what was not the first time. Various charms could block the noise, but she hadn't discovered anything yet that would solve the vibrations she could feel from the pounding bass of the music they always played. And they were always having parties, and her lights would shake from the dancing upstairs. Someday, she told herself, also for what was not the first time, I will own my own house. Medi-witches, unfortunately, were not paid nearly what they ought to be, in her opinion, and with the wizarding economy being what it was, she would not be able to afford any house, even a small one, until she was promoted to Full Medi-witch. Unfortunately, things being as they were, she couldn't expect that for another five or six years.
Which led, of course, back to Draco. He had offered her a house- a castle!- and she was sure he didn't make a lot of noise. And the fifty thousand galleons he'd promised her would certainly come in handy. She wasn't quite poor, but she definitely wasn't rich, either. It was a generous offer- more than most witches got after a divorce, she knew. With fifty thousand galleons, and the money she would save on rent and food while she was living with Draco, she could definitely afford something nicer after the divorce.
Another thing her mind kept coming back to was Draco himself. She hadn't been lying to Hermione about that- Draco was smart and funny and occasionally nice. Conversation always flowed easily around him, though that conversation often consisted of them arguing. In truth, she had always gotten on with him better than any of the rest of the Order had been able to.
And her family would get over it, eventually. Ron would have the worst time with it, or possibly Harry, but she knew the rest would not be upset over it for long. Her father had hated Lucius, but he was a strong believer in not blaming children for the mistakes of the parents. And her mother would be so happy to have her baby girl married that she would soon get over her disappointment that it wasn't to Harry. Bill and Charlie knew Draco only as the somewhat obnoxious young man from the Order, and they would forgive obnoxiousness. Percy never came home anyway. And Fred and George- she smiled at the thought. She knew that they would be more understanding than anyone else.
Ginny's brow furrowed as she stared out the window. Was she seriously considering marrying Draco? She stared hard at the moon outside, as though hoping it would give her guidance. Then her eyes narrowed as a black shape passed in front of it. It was an owl, who landed at her window and tapped impatiently with its beak. It was a large, stately bird, and she wondered, with a sudden catch of her breath, if it was from Draco. What would he say to her after what she'd said to him the last time they'd spoken? She hadn't meant to imply that he was somehow unlovable. She just meant . . .
Her train of thought trailed off, and she frowned a little as she got near enough to the bird to see it was Hedwig. With a sigh Ginny pulled the note off her leg and patted her head absent-mindedly. The owl settled onto her desk, waiting to deliver a reply, while Ginny sunk into a chair and opened the note.
Dear Ginny,
I'm sorry that things happened the way they did today. We never meant to question your actions or meddle in your life.
She smiled a little. Harry really was a good man. She continued reading.
However, I have to admit, I don't understand why you've been spending time with him. I know you think well of him, and I want to trust your judgment, but I can't help being afraid that you don't really understand him or the situation-
Ginny didn't read the rest of the note, because she was too busy crumpling it up and throwing it away. Apparently Harry was also as stupid as anyone else. She sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose.
Hedwig hooted softly, as though in question, and Ginny looked up at the white owl, feeling very suddenly incredibly frustrated. "I'm just so sick of having everyone stick their noses in every corner of my life," she said in response. "I mean, I'm an adult! I have a job and my own apartment, I pay all my own bills; I think I've shown I'm more than capable of taking care of myself. But no, everyone still treats me like little silly Ginny. Even if this relationship is a sham, I wish they'd respect me enough to trust my decision to be in it." She paused. "Even though I didn't really decide to be in it," she added, and Hedwig hooted in agreement.
All of the thoughts and confusion that had been swirling through her mind the past day suddenly seemed to fit into place then, and she frowned. "That's it. I'm leaving. Hedwig, I'm afraid I don't have anything for you to take to Harry." She grabbed her purse off her table, then rifled through her desk until she found the copy of her Ministry-issued birth certificate. Picking up a chocolate bar, she fed a bit to the white owl who was still observing her through inscrutable eyes. "You're a good listener, Hedwig. I'll send you a postcard after I'm married, all right?"
Shooing the owl outside, she shut and locked the window tight, then went to get dressed. It was her wedding, after all, and she wanted to look nice.
Half an hour later, she was pounding at the door of Malfoy Manor. As she'd expected, the house elves were apparently not yet asleep, as a very alert and well-pressed one answered her knock. "I'm here for Draco," she said. "If he's asleep, wake him up." She paused a moment. "Please." Just because I'm going to be a Malfoy doesn't mean I have to be rude like one, she thought. The elf looked shocked, but bowed deeply and scurried away.
She had only been waiting in the lobby a few minutes when Draco appeared at the top of one of the staircases. His tie was undone and his hair was a bit messy, but she was fairly sure he hadn't gone to bed yet. The way he was looking at her was definitely a step back from the friendliness, or at least familiarity, that they'd acquired over the last few days, but she supposed that was to be expected. She had been a bit rude to him the last time they'd met.
He walked slowly down the stairs toward her, his gray eyes taking in her black Muggle dress. "Were I a more nosy person," he said a rather biting voice, "I might ask what you're doing in my house at midnight, wearing that Muggle thing."
She brushed the tone and words off, having learned over the past few days that his speaking that way didn't necessarily mean he was angry. "Look, Draco, do you still want to get married?"
There was silence for a long moment as Draco looked at Ginny in surprise, and she congratulated herself on unnerving the unflappable Lord Malfoy. Then he recovered. "What, you finally realized that it's the best offer a Weasley could hope to receive?" He smiled a bit ferally. "Then I suppose the answer is yes. It's still the best solution to my current situation."
"Here's the deal, then," she said seriously. Draco's eyes widened at her words, but he said nothing. "First, you sign an agreement that says I get fifty thousand galleons when this is all over. Second, I get to continue working at St. Mungo's, and all the money I make there is mine and you never hear of it. Third, you have to be nice to my family and friends- and especially Harry- the whole time. Fourth, you never try to touch me. We don't even sleep in the same room. I'm still your wife, though, and I get all the privileges wives usually do. I get free run of the house, use of everything in and at the manor, and authority over the servants, including the right to free house elves, and I receive spending money whenever I ask for it." She stopped and pondered a moment. "Within reason," she added, feeling it very generous of her to do so. "And also-" here she paused- "I know this is probably stupid, but I'd like it if people didn't know the circumstances surrounding this whole messy business. I'd like you not to tell people about the oath and the money and all. I'd like to have some shred of dignity through all this.
"And in return, I will marry you and play the dutiful and loving wife whenever we are around other people, and I will never tell anyone that you married me because you might lose your money and you thought that being poor was even worse than being married to a Weasley." Draco raised an eyebrow at this, but Ginny ignored him and pushed on. "There's one more thing. We have to elope tonight."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Anxious, my little poppet?" he asked, smirking, as he slowly advanced on her. "What about all that separate bedroom stuff? Were you just playing hard to get?"
"Oh, there's another thing I forgot to mention," Ginny smiled. "No being foul." She pushed him away lightly, and he moved back a few steps, looking smug. "I want to elope tonight, because if we wait and try to plan something I'll have to endure months of anguish from my family, and I don't really want to." She frowned. "Besides, I feel bad having people come to a wedding and buy gifts for what's really just a sham of a marriage."
Draco looked at her a long moment, and she could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. After a few moments, he smiled. "Deal," he said, putting out his hand to shake.
She looked at him seriously. "Are you sure? I'm going to ask you to swear on it, and then it will be a wizard's oath, and we happen to have personal experience with how difficult those can be."
This time Draco thought about it longer before nodding. Then he looked straight at Ginny and proclaimed, "I swear."
A silent breeze blew around them, and Ginny nodded as though satisfied. "So, you know anywhere that will be open this late?" she asked.
"Hold on," Draco said. "Even if we're eloping, I'm going to find you some nicer robes than that; we'll go look through my mother's closet." He turned and began climbing the staircases. "Follow me, Mrs. Malfoy," he said wickedly, and Ginny, following after him, found herself hoping desperately she hadn't just made the worst mistake of her life.
. . . . . .
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