Chapter 4- Confrontation
“It matches what Emmy wore in the movie, and Mara says it’s a period-correct costume.”
“I don’t care what she says, Patrick! I am not wearing this!”
Patrick ran a hand through his hair in exasperation as the dressing room door opened. Draco walked in, gray eyes flickering over the pair, taking in the scene. Patrick sighed and tossed Ginny a bathrobe, still talking.
“I don’t want you to, Gin, but the contract I signed doesn't allow me any control over the costumes beyond making sure they’re time-period correct.”
“Is all this over that costume, again?” Draco somehow managed a cold drawl and an overly warm gaze at the same time.
Ginny pulled the robe on over her under-dress in an exasperated fashion, knotting the tie firmly. “Yes, it is, not that it’s any of your business. Patrick, what if I just refuse to wear it? It’s not like she can force me into it.”
Patrick hesitated. “Actually, technically, she can. The contract you signed before you tried out gave her full control over your wardrobe.”
Ginny’s anger deflated, giving way to annoyance. “So there’s no way to get out of this." It was more of a statement than a question.
For some reason, Patrick’s eyes flickered to Draco before he spoke. “Well. . .in theory, no.” At Ginny’s interested look, he finished his thought. “Mara is rather enamored with Draco. I think if he asked her to change it, she’d do it in a heartbeat.”
Ginny stared at Patrick, humorlessly amused. “So, in other words, I’m doomed.”
Draco looked around the empty audition room, disdain evident in his raised eyebrows. “What is this, Weasley? You said Patrick wanted us here.”
Ginny looked to be pondering his statement as she closed the door behind her. “Did I? Hmm, I must have been delirious.”
“Out with it, Weaselette; I don’t have all day.”
Ginny shrugged. “Okay. I want your help.”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I want it for.”
“You want me to tell Mara to switch your costume, right?” He didn’t wait for her reply. “Not going to do it.”
Ginny stomped her foot in irritation. “Why not?”
Draco looked amused at her childish display of anger, but, surprisingly, didn’t comment on it. “Let me count the reasons: 1) I see no benefit in it for me. 2) You’re a Weasley, I’m a Malfoy. We don’t help each other. 3) I happen to like that costume.”
“Then you can wear it!” Draco turned to leave, and Ginny pleaded in desperation. “Please, Malfoy, I just need your help with this one thing.”
“No.”
“I am not wearing that skimpy little thing. I’m begging you, Draco, please!”
Draco lowered his eyes to the pretty redhead in front of him and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in a longsuffering way. “Alright.”
Ginny’s beautiful smile bloomed, and her green eyes lit emerald. “Really?”
“If I must.”
Without thinking what she was doing, Ginny threw her arms around Draco’s neck and pressed her lips against his. When she pulled back, she was still squealing with delight.
“Thank you so much! Thank you thank you thank you thank-”
What she had just done suddenly dawned on Ginny, and she looked at the Malfoy in front of her.
“Merlin, did I really just. . ? Oh god. . .”
The expression on Draco’s face, or lack thereof, made Ginny more nervous than the thought of her action.
“Um, Draco? Aren’t you going to do something horrible?”
With a slight smirk, Draco gripped Ginny’s linked hands and lifted them over his head, removing them from around his neck. Before he could complete the move, however, the door to the practice room opened and the worst possible person stepped into the room.
He stood, watching the pair of them in horror, drawing his own conclusions from the scene: Ginny with her arms around Draco’s neck, inches from his face, and Draco with her hands in his, presumably pulling her closer. Wordlessly, the person spun on his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Ginny paled and jerked away from Draco, fleeing the practice room.
“Ron!” She yelled desperately as she scrambled after him. “Ron, wait!”`
The figure in front her didn’t slow or turn around, but Ginny was finally able to catch his arm and spin him to face her.
“Wait, please, it’s not what you think.”
“Not what I think? What am I supposed to think, walking into a dark room in a deserted corridor of the castle to find you about this far from a Malfoy?” Ron held his fingers about an inch apart, which Ginny found extremely unfair; it had been at least 2 inches.
“Ron, honestly, you’re just overreacting.”
“What’s he overreacting to?”
Harry and Hermione walked onto the scene, and Ginny could have screamed in frustration.
“Nothing, it’s just-”
“I found her alone with Malfoy, and they sure weren't exchanging insults!”
Ginny rolled her eyes and tried to amend the situation. “That’s not it at all, Ron’s got the story wrong-”
“She was with who?”
“Malfoy? Ginny, really!”
Harry and Hermione rounded on the younger girl, disapproving tones echoing her brother’s growls.
Ginny stamped her foot in frustration, trying to hold her temper in check. “No, you’ve got it all wrong!”
“Oh, stop denying it, Ginny! I know what I saw, and it wasn’t innocent.”
Ron turned on his heel and stormed away, followed closely by Harry and Hermione.
Patrick, being the perceptive man he was, knew the minute his cast walked in that something was wrong. Ginny’s face was blotchy and her eyes were red rimmed, but she looked angrily defiant at the same time. Ron’s face was contorted into a furious look, while Harry and Hermione tried only half-heartedly to calm him down. All three were shooting agitated glances at Ginny, who was sitting as far from them as possible.
Sighing, Patrick plopped his music book back down on top of the piano and stood.
“Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Harry- come with me. Oh, and Draco as well,” he added, catching the blond’s smirk. Patrick turned to the assistant director. “Jerry, run the rest of them through ‘Masquerade.’ It needs work.”
Patrick took the five into a dressing room along the side of the auditorium. Closing the door firmly behind him, he turned and faced the angry teenagers in front of him.
“Alright,” he said, sweeping his gaze from one face to another. “What’s going on?”
No one answered.
“Someone tell me. Now.”
Again, no one spoke.
“Guys, I’m not kidding here. Something’s happened between you all, and I need to know what it is.”
“It’s none of your bloody business,” Ron muttered, obviously not meaning to be heard.
“Don’t take that tone with me,” Patrick snapped, his voice hardening, demanding respect. “And yes, it is my business. Anything that affects your work as actors and actresses is my business. Don’t even try to tell me it won’t,” he said, raising his hand to stop Hermione’s protest. “Trust me; I know what I’m talking about. Until you get whatever this is straightened out, your performances won’t be up to par and you know it.”
Silence reigned for the few moments before Hermione spoke. “What if we work it out by ourselves?” Patrick cocked an eyebrow at her, and she took that as a cue to continue. “I’m pretty sure certain people don’t want others to know what’s going on, so is it alright if we work through this without you?”
“Then what were you doing alone in that room with him?”
“Oh, honestly, Ron, grow up. I wanted to ask him in private if he’d get Mara to change my costume.”
“Why privately?” Ron crossed his arms, looking smug, obviously thinking he’d just proved his point.
“Because I didn’t know how much I would have to beg, alright? I think that would’ve been a little embarrassing in front of the entire Great Hall, don’t you?”
“Ginny,” Hermione broke in gently. “Ron’s only trying to look out for you, and do what’s best. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but he really means well.”
“Well, I don’t need his help, or yours for that matter! I’m a capable, intelligent young woman, and even if I was snogging Draco bloody Malfoy, it wouldn’t be any of your business!”
Ron looked stunned. “Ginny, I-”
“No, let me finish! I am so sick of you always telling me what to do and trying to run my life! I am not stupid, okay? I can take care of myself! Oh, and the way you always tell mum things- augh, that drives me bonkers! Just let me live my life, alright? I’m not a little girl anymore, so stop treating me like one!”
On her last words, Ginny squared her shoulders and left the room, followed, surprisingly, by Malfoy.
“It matches what Emmy wore in the movie, and Mara says it’s a period-correct costume.”
“I don’t care what she says, Patrick! I am not wearing this!”
Patrick ran a hand through his hair in exasperation as the dressing room door opened. Draco walked in, gray eyes flickering over the pair, taking in the scene. Patrick sighed and tossed Ginny a bathrobe, still talking.
“I don’t want you to, Gin, but the contract I signed doesn't allow me any control over the costumes beyond making sure they’re time-period correct.”
“Is all this over that costume, again?” Draco somehow managed a cold drawl and an overly warm gaze at the same time.
Ginny pulled the robe on over her under-dress in an exasperated fashion, knotting the tie firmly. “Yes, it is, not that it’s any of your business. Patrick, what if I just refuse to wear it? It’s not like she can force me into it.”
Patrick hesitated. “Actually, technically, she can. The contract you signed before you tried out gave her full control over your wardrobe.”
Ginny’s anger deflated, giving way to annoyance. “So there’s no way to get out of this." It was more of a statement than a question.
For some reason, Patrick’s eyes flickered to Draco before he spoke. “Well. . .in theory, no.” At Ginny’s interested look, he finished his thought. “Mara is rather enamored with Draco. I think if he asked her to change it, she’d do it in a heartbeat.”
Ginny stared at Patrick, humorlessly amused. “So, in other words, I’m doomed.”
Draco looked around the empty audition room, disdain evident in his raised eyebrows. “What is this, Weasley? You said Patrick wanted us here.”
Ginny looked to be pondering his statement as she closed the door behind her. “Did I? Hmm, I must have been delirious.”
“Out with it, Weaselette; I don’t have all day.”
Ginny shrugged. “Okay. I want your help.”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I want it for.”
“You want me to tell Mara to switch your costume, right?” He didn’t wait for her reply. “Not going to do it.”
Ginny stomped her foot in irritation. “Why not?”
Draco looked amused at her childish display of anger, but, surprisingly, didn’t comment on it. “Let me count the reasons: 1) I see no benefit in it for me. 2) You’re a Weasley, I’m a Malfoy. We don’t help each other. 3) I happen to like that costume.”
“Then you can wear it!” Draco turned to leave, and Ginny pleaded in desperation. “Please, Malfoy, I just need your help with this one thing.”
“No.”
“I am not wearing that skimpy little thing. I’m begging you, Draco, please!”
Draco lowered his eyes to the pretty redhead in front of him and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in a longsuffering way. “Alright.”
Ginny’s beautiful smile bloomed, and her green eyes lit emerald. “Really?”
“If I must.”
Without thinking what she was doing, Ginny threw her arms around Draco’s neck and pressed her lips against his. When she pulled back, she was still squealing with delight.
“Thank you so much! Thank you thank you thank you thank-”
What she had just done suddenly dawned on Ginny, and she looked at the Malfoy in front of her.
“Merlin, did I really just. . ? Oh god. . .”
The expression on Draco’s face, or lack thereof, made Ginny more nervous than the thought of her action.
“Um, Draco? Aren’t you going to do something horrible?”
With a slight smirk, Draco gripped Ginny’s linked hands and lifted them over his head, removing them from around his neck. Before he could complete the move, however, the door to the practice room opened and the worst possible person stepped into the room.
He stood, watching the pair of them in horror, drawing his own conclusions from the scene: Ginny with her arms around Draco’s neck, inches from his face, and Draco with her hands in his, presumably pulling her closer. Wordlessly, the person spun on his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Ginny paled and jerked away from Draco, fleeing the practice room.
“Ron!” She yelled desperately as she scrambled after him. “Ron, wait!”`
The figure in front her didn’t slow or turn around, but Ginny was finally able to catch his arm and spin him to face her.
“Wait, please, it’s not what you think.”
“Not what I think? What am I supposed to think, walking into a dark room in a deserted corridor of the castle to find you about this far from a Malfoy?” Ron held his fingers about an inch apart, which Ginny found extremely unfair; it had been at least 2 inches.
“Ron, honestly, you’re just overreacting.”
“What’s he overreacting to?”
Harry and Hermione walked onto the scene, and Ginny could have screamed in frustration.
“Nothing, it’s just-”
“I found her alone with Malfoy, and they sure weren't exchanging insults!”
Ginny rolled her eyes and tried to amend the situation. “That’s not it at all, Ron’s got the story wrong-”
“She was with who?”
“Malfoy? Ginny, really!”
Harry and Hermione rounded on the younger girl, disapproving tones echoing her brother’s growls.
Ginny stamped her foot in frustration, trying to hold her temper in check. “No, you’ve got it all wrong!”
“Oh, stop denying it, Ginny! I know what I saw, and it wasn’t innocent.”
Ron turned on his heel and stormed away, followed closely by Harry and Hermione.
Patrick, being the perceptive man he was, knew the minute his cast walked in that something was wrong. Ginny’s face was blotchy and her eyes were red rimmed, but she looked angrily defiant at the same time. Ron’s face was contorted into a furious look, while Harry and Hermione tried only half-heartedly to calm him down. All three were shooting agitated glances at Ginny, who was sitting as far from them as possible.
Sighing, Patrick plopped his music book back down on top of the piano and stood.
“Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Harry- come with me. Oh, and Draco as well,” he added, catching the blond’s smirk. Patrick turned to the assistant director. “Jerry, run the rest of them through ‘Masquerade.’ It needs work.”
Patrick took the five into a dressing room along the side of the auditorium. Closing the door firmly behind him, he turned and faced the angry teenagers in front of him.
“Alright,” he said, sweeping his gaze from one face to another. “What’s going on?”
No one answered.
“Someone tell me. Now.”
Again, no one spoke.
“Guys, I’m not kidding here. Something’s happened between you all, and I need to know what it is.”
“It’s none of your bloody business,” Ron muttered, obviously not meaning to be heard.
“Don’t take that tone with me,” Patrick snapped, his voice hardening, demanding respect. “And yes, it is my business. Anything that affects your work as actors and actresses is my business. Don’t even try to tell me it won’t,” he said, raising his hand to stop Hermione’s protest. “Trust me; I know what I’m talking about. Until you get whatever this is straightened out, your performances won’t be up to par and you know it.”
Silence reigned for the few moments before Hermione spoke. “What if we work it out by ourselves?” Patrick cocked an eyebrow at her, and she took that as a cue to continue. “I’m pretty sure certain people don’t want others to know what’s going on, so is it alright if we work through this without you?”
“Then what were you doing alone in that room with him?”
“Oh, honestly, Ron, grow up. I wanted to ask him in private if he’d get Mara to change my costume.”
“Why privately?” Ron crossed his arms, looking smug, obviously thinking he’d just proved his point.
“Because I didn’t know how much I would have to beg, alright? I think that would’ve been a little embarrassing in front of the entire Great Hall, don’t you?”
“Ginny,” Hermione broke in gently. “Ron’s only trying to look out for you, and do what’s best. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but he really means well.”
“Well, I don’t need his help, or yours for that matter! I’m a capable, intelligent young woman, and even if I was snogging Draco bloody Malfoy, it wouldn’t be any of your business!”
Ron looked stunned. “Ginny, I-”
“No, let me finish! I am so sick of you always telling me what to do and trying to run my life! I am not stupid, okay? I can take care of myself! Oh, and the way you always tell mum things- augh, that drives me bonkers! Just let me live my life, alright? I’m not a little girl anymore, so stop treating me like one!”
On her last words, Ginny squared her shoulders and left the room, followed, surprisingly, by Malfoy.
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