Serendipity

Part II

Ginny whistled to herself as she entered the theater the next morning. She had woken up in an extremely good mood, and it hadn’t dimmed, even after a sudden rainstorm had caught her unawares as she walked through Diagon Alley. After casting a quick drying charm on her clothes and hair, Ginny waved cheerily to Diantha, who had entered the lobby shortly after she had. She frowned slightly when Diantha turned away from her, but then dismissed the incident, assuming that the older woman hadn’t seen her. Resuming her whistling, Ginny climbed to the third floor, where the only seats that still needed upholstering resided.

When a few hours passed without Sophie arriving to help or Monty to greet her, Ginny began to wonder if something was wrong. She stood up to stretch and looked out into the theater. Monty was on the stage, waving his arms and muttering to himself, and Michel was on his floating platform, putting the finishing touches on the ceiling fresco. Ginny heard Sophie’s laughter from below, then spotted her with Diantha and Crispin, working on the woodwork in one of the first floor boxes.

That was odd. Sophie had never helped with the woodwork before, as far as Ginny could remember; that was Draco’s role. She shrugged her shoulders; she’d find out what was going on at the break. But after that, Ginny’s good mood dissipated, and she worked restlessly by herself for the rest of the morning.

During the break, nobody talked to Ginny, not even Sophie. Crispin even reached across her for the salt shaker instead of asking her to pass it. After sitting alone for about ten minutes, Ginny admitted to herself that she wasn’t imagining their reactions. The others really were avoiding her, but she had no idea why. It was extremely disconcerting.

“The seats and I missed you this morning,” Ginny said, approaching Sophie with a smile.

Ginny was relieved when Sophie didn’t turn away as Diantha had earlier, but was a little concerned when she didn’t smile either. “You’re quite capable of handling the rest of them by yourself,” Sophie said shortly. “I’m helping Diantha and Crispin since Draco couldn’t come today.”

“Where’s Malfoy, then?” Ginny asked. Distracted from her concerns about the others’ behavior by her memories of yesterday’s spectacle, she laughed. “Was he too ashamed to show his face here after yesterday?”

“What’s wrong with you, Ginny?” Sophie asked, a vaguely disgusted look on her face.

“What do you mean?” Ginny asked, confused by Sophie’s cold tone; she hadn’t heard anything like it in the two years she’d known Sophie.

“I never thought you were the kind of person to laugh at another person’s pain,” Sophie said plainly.

“Pain?” Ginny asked, bewildered. “I wasn’t laughing at anyone’s pain, just at the prank I pulled on Malfoy yesterday.”

“You were just laughing at the prank?” Sophie asked, her eyebrows disappearing into her fringe. “Did you never stop to think about its consequences?”

“It was a harmless prank!” Ginny defended.

“Harmless!” Sophie said harshly. “You really thought that was harmless?” Ginny was silent in the face of her friend’s unusual onslaught. “Poor Draco had to spend the night in St. Mungo’s with two broken ribs and a concussion!”

“St. Mungo’s?” Ginny asked shakily. Her mind was spinning. Suddenly dizzy, she sunk helplessly into a nearby chair. “I had no idea. I never thought…”

“No,” Sophie said bitterly. “It’s clear that you never thought about it.”

“Is he going to be all right?” Ginny asked after a moment, wracked with guilt. She’d never sent anyone to the hospital before, at least not by anything she’d done deliberately. At that thought, she was overcome by a sudden bout of nausea, and put her head quickly between her knees.

“Yes, he’ll be fine,” Sophie said, almost gently; she seemed to be much calmer after seeing Ginny’s reaction. “But the Healers insisted he rest all day today.”

“Good,” Ginny said weakly. “I… Will you… Will you tell everyone I’m sorry?” Her voice was plaintive. “I think I need to go home.”

~*~*~*~

Ginny managed to stumble her way down Diagon Alley and let herself safely into her flat. She was so distracted by her churning thoughts that it was a near thing. She made tea, but as soon as she stirred in the sugar, she thought of salt. She was overcome by another bout of nausea that only passed after she poured the whole pot down the sink.

After that, Ginny stood in her kitchen, staring blindly at her cabinets, thinking about what had happened. No, not what had happened, what she had done. She had turned her wand on a man, and caused enough damage to send him to the hospital. She had broken his bones. And she had thought it was funny. Granted, she had never intended to hurt him, not physically at least. But that didn’t change the fact that she had done it.

Ginny shuddered. She had always thought of herself as a good person—brave, noble, fierce—the perfect Gryffindor. She had seen everything she had done through that filter. Every prank she had pulled had been good-natured; every hex she had thrown had been well-deserved; she had never really hurt anyone. Or so she had told herself. She’d been lying to herself the whole time, justifying her behavior in her own mind. But now she knew the truth. She had hurt someone badly, and for what?

Sure, Draco had provoked her, but had he really deserved broken bones for it? Ginny thought back over their interactions at the theater, and felt her knees grow weak with realization. She dragged herself into the sitting room and collapsed on the sofa, burying her head in her hands.

Draco had antagonized her, yes, but in retrospect, he had treated her much better than she had treated him. He had never responded in anger, had never pulled his wand. Instead, Draco had always seemed to be able to turn Ginny’s hexes against her somehow, so the joke was on her as much as on him. She smiled slightly as she thought of the way he had worn the costume she had adorned him with, the salted tea, their Tarantallegra dance. His responses had infuriated her at the time, but looking back, they had been clever and downright funny. If Draco had been anyone else, if it weren’t for their shared past, Ginny would have thought their skirmishes to be almost friendly.

Ginny froze. Did Draco think they were friendly? Had she been the only one carrying a grudge? No, that couldn’t be true—he insulted her much the same way as he had at Hogwarts. Or had he? Had she judged Draco unfairly based on their past? Had he really changed? Everyone at the theater seemed to think so. Even Harry thought so. What was she missing?

At first, Ginny drew a blank, thinking she must have been right all along, but then she realized that she had already noticed a sign that something was different. Draco had never hexed her, even when she had hexed him first, even though he wouldn’t have thought twice about doing so at Hogwarts. For that matter, he had never expressed anger in any way whatsoever; if he had been angry, he must have amazing self-control. Or be an absolutely amazing actor, and she knew he wasn’t that. If he was, Monty would have had no qualms about casting him as Benedick, as Draco had asked. But Draco hadn’t threatened Monty, or even tried to talk him into changing his mind. For that matter, he hadn’t even complained once about doing the manual labor required for the restoration project—the charity project he had willingly volunteered for. And most telling of all, though Ginny hadn’t even noticed it at the time, he hadn’t even blinked when Michel mentioned he was Muggleborn.

Oh, Merlin, Ginny thought, as she realized she didn’t need to go any farther. Draco really had changed. And she had been too blind to see it. She’d allowed her own prejudices to blind her, and because of that, she had done him a great injustice. And that was true even without considering that she had put him in the hospital yesterday. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve any of it. Nobody deserved that.

Ginny burst into tears. She wasn’t the person she had thought she was, and the revelation was bitter. She stayed where she was on the sofa, her self-reproach repeating itself over and over in her head. She didn’t notice when the light faded from the room; she didn’t care.

~*~*~*~

Ginny arrived at the theater much earlier than usual the next day, determined to apologize to Draco as soon as he arrived. As she walked from the lobby into the house, she walked right into Monty, who was standing there, staring at the ceiling below the balcony.

“Oh!” Ginny said, “I’m so sorry!”

“No, no, my fault,” Monty said. “I shouldn’t have been standing just there.”

Ginny took one look at Monty’s contrite face and all of the past day’s stress came crashing down around her. She burst into tears and threw herself into the director’s arms.

“There, there,” Monty said, patting Ginny awkwardly on the back. “There’s no need to cry.”

“I’m just so sorry, Monty!” Ginny said, sobbing.

“What for?” Monty asked, confused. “I was the one standing in the way.”

“Not for that,” Ginny said. “For… for what I did to Draco. I was awful! Draco didn’t deserve that. I shouldn’t have let my own feelings get so out of control. And I was so wrong about him too!”

“Now, now,” Monty said reassuringly. “Draco’s going to be just fine, from what I’ve heard, so don’t you fret.”

Ginny composed herself as much as possible. “Thanks, Monty,” she said. “Would you mind horribly if I don’t start working right away? I want to apologize to Draco as soon as he comes in, if that’s okay.”

“Fine, fine,” Monty said, pulling a large red handkerchief out of his pocket and handing it to Ginny. “The seats can wait. They’re almost all done anyway. Take as much time as you need.”

“Thank you,” Ginny said quietly. She blew her nose noisily, performed a quick Scourgify, and handed the handkerchief back. “I think I’ll wait for Draco in the lobby.”

Ginny waited anxiously, trailing her fingers in the pool of the newly restored fountain, under the watchful eyes of the three princes and their camel. It seemed to take forever for anybody to arrive, but when she consulted her watch, she saw that it wasn’t yet the time they usually started work.

When the doors finally opened, Ginny stood up so quickly, she nearly fell into the water. Much to her chagrin, two figures stepped into the lobby instead of one. Crispin and Diantha both nodded to her, but didn’t say hello. Ginny sighed as they passed into the theater. She would need to regain their respect, she supposed, but at least their reception was warmer than it had been the day before.

After a few more minutes, the door opened once more and Draco stepped into the room. He froze in place for a moment when he saw Ginny, then moved as if to brush past her, without giving her a second glance.

Draco was nearly to the door into the main theater when Ginny composed herself enough to speak. “Draco, I…” she began.

Draco whirled around so quickly and ferociously that Ginny took a tiny step backwards. “Don’t,” he said forcefully. “Don’t say a thing.”

“But I…”

“No!” Draco interrupted. “Don’t say a thing. I don’t need you to rub it in.”

“I’m s—” Ginny began, desperate to apologize, but before she could say any more, Draco had his wand out and at pointed at her.

“I said I didn’t want to hear it,” he ground out. “And I’ll silence you by force if I have to.”

Ginny hung her head. He wasn’t going to let her apologize. And worse, the way he was treating her was so different than he had acted recently, that it showed with brutal clarity just how wrong she had been. He was acting as he had at Hogwarts, but with one major difference—this time she deserved it.

“You have everyone fooled, don’t you?” Draco asked bitterly. “Everyone thinks you’re so perfect, so kind, but when it comes down to it, you’re just a coldhearted bully. At least Moody didn’t break any of my bones. And to top it all off, you’re a common thief as well.”

Thief? Ginny lifted her head quickly, confusion written across her face. She was careful not to say anything this time, however—she was sure Draco’s threat to silence her had not been idle.

“Pretending innocence, are you?” Draco asked viciously. “I’m surprised Monty didn’t cast you in the play with the way you can act.”

Ginny creased her brows questioningly.

“All right,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “If you insist on the act, I’ll play along. When I returned home from the hospital yesterday,” —Ginny blushed at the thought of what she had done to him— “my mother needlessly insisted I stay in her wing, so she would be close by if I took a turn for the worse. She put me in a room I hadn’t seen before, under the watchful eyes of a portrait of my grandmother Malfoy.”

Draco paused here, as if this should mean something to Ginny, but she was more confused than ever.

“Imagine my surprise,” Draco continued, “when I saw my grandmother wearing the same necklace you wear all the time. The gaudy one. It just happens to be a Malfoy family heirloom! I can hardly believe you’d have the gall to wear it in front of me after stealing it. Though, considering what I’ve seen of you the past couple of days, I wouldn’t be surprised if that was why you claimed it held sentimental value.”

Ginny was stunned. Her necklace, the one Fred had given her, was a Malfoy family heirloom? Then how did Fred come to have it? She couldn’t believe he had stolen it—he would have bragged about doing so if he had. She sat down hard on the edge of the fountain, and looked helplessly up at Draco.

“Do you really hate me that much, Weasley?” Draco asked. His voice was so quiet, though, that Ginny almost didn’t hear it. She was about to respond with an apology and explanation—whether he hexed her for it or not. But then he turned his back on her, and walked into the theater, leaving a shocked and shaking Ginny behind him.

~*~*~*~

Once Ginny had recovered enough to stand, she sought out Monty to make her excuses. “I… er… there’s something I have to do right away,” she mumbled, averting her eyes. “I’ll come back later to finish the seats, I promise.” She was determined to return the necklace to Narcissa Malfoy; she might not be able to atone for what she had done on Tuesday, but this was one thing she could put right.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” Monty said with concern. “Do what you need to do. I’ll set Sophie to working on them when she gets here.”

After a brief stop at her flat to retrieve the necklace and check the exact location of Malfoy Manor, Ginny took a deep breath and Apparated to Wiltshire. She appeared in a narrow lane, not far from a set of elaborate wrought iron gates, decorated with leaves, flowers, and strange gargoyle-like faces. She examined the gates, wondering how to open them, or to attract the attention of someone in the house. There didn’t seem to be anything to indicate how it was done. After a few minutes, Ginny shook the gate in frustration. Was everything conspiring to keep her from doing the right thing?

As soon as Ginny touched the gate, however, the centermost face began to twitch. It stretched itself this way and that before saying, “State your name and business,” in a bored voice.

“Er, my name is Ginevra Weasley,” she said nervously. “I’ve come to see Mrs. Malfoy, if she’s available.”

“I will inquire,” the face said, going still once more.

Nothing happened for so long that Ginny began to think that she had been forgotten. She readjusted her cloak against the chill, and wondered if she should just give up on returning the necklace, but then the gate opened suddenly, allowing her to step into a long hedge-lined drive. She took a deep breath and moved forward.

After a while, Ginny caught sight of the house; its size and elegance didn’t surprise her, but neither did they help calm her nerves. As she approached, the front door swung open of its own accord. She stepped into the house, and caught a glimpse of rich carpet, marble statuary, and gilt picture frames that reminded her of the theater lobby, but her attention was soon drawn to a tall blonde woman who had stepped into the hallway: Narcissa Malfoy.

“Good day, Miss Weasley,” Narcissa said, leading the way into a richly furnished drawing room. “How kind of you to visit.”

“Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice,” Ginny said, forcing herself to look at her hostess rather than gape at her surroundings.

“Would you care for some tea?” Narcissa asked.

“Yes, please,” Ginny answered, reasoning that drinking tea would at least give her something to do with her hands besides fidget.

A tray appeared immediately, holding not only tea, but scones, apricot jam, and clotted cream as well. Ginny received her share gratefully, using the food as an excuse not to look at Narcissa.

“Draco tells me that you have been working with him at the theater,” Narcissa said.

“Yes,” Ginny said quietly. “I’ve mostly been working on the upholstery, and he’s been working on the woodwork, though.” She looked down at her hands. Draco was just about the last subject she wanted to discuss with his mother.

“I see,” Narcissa said. “The work is progressing satisfactorily, I trust?”

“Yes, quite satisfactorily,” Ginny answered, smiling a little for the first time. “We’re nearly finished with the restoration, and then we can begin on the play.”

“I’m very much looking forward to the play,” Narcissa said, “especially since Draco will be in it. What role are you to play?”

“Oh! I’m not actually going to have a role,” Ginny answered. “I’m just helping with the costumes.”

“Yes, I have heard about your talent with costuming spells,” Narcissa said with a hint of a smile.

Ginny blushed, and bent once more over her scone. It was clear that Draco had told his mother about the costume incident. She wondered what else he had told her.

“I suppose working at the theater doesn’t leave you much time for other amusements,” Narcissa continued.

“No, not really,” Ginny said. “But it’s nice to have something to do when I’m not playing Quidditch, so that doesn’t bother me too much.”

It was becoming clear that Narcissa was too polite to ask why Ginny had appeared on her doorstep. Ginny was going to have to bring the subject up herself, and the sooner the better. She wasn’t sure how much more small talk she could endure, especially if Draco was going to continue to feature in it.

Ginny took a deep breath and set her tea cup aside. She looked up at Narcissa and said, “I came today because I think I may have something that rightfully belongs to you.”

“Oh?” Narcissa asked, her curiosity now blatantly displayed.

Ginny reached into her pocket and pulled out the necklace. She held it in her hand briefly, a sad smile on her face as she looked at it for one last time, then she handed it to Narcissa.

Narcissa examined the necklace, turning it over to read the date engraved on the back, before looking up at Ginny. “May I ask how this came to be in your possession?” she asked evenly.

“Well, I didn’t steal it, whatever your son may have told you,” Ginny answered, more harshly than she had intended.

Narcissa raised both eyebrows in surprise. “Draco has said nothing to me of this necklace,” Narcissa said. “If he had, I would have assured him that you certainly couldn’t have stolen it, as it was lost well before you could have been born.”

“I’m sorry,” Ginny said shakily. “I didn’t mean to imply anything about Draco. I was just so surprised when he accused me of stealing it.”

“I can’t imagine Draco accusing you of any such thing,” Narcissa said lightly.

“Well, I haven’t given him much reason to think well of me,” Ginny said blushing furiously.

Narcissa looked curious. “That’s not the impression he gave me,” she said, clearly hoping that Ginny would say more.

Ginny was surprised. She was sure Draco would have told his mother that she was the one who injured him on Tuesday, but either he hadn’t, or Narcissa was much more forgiving than she would ever have expected. What could that mean?

Before Ginny could fully follow that line of thought, Narcissa interrupted by clearing her throat gently. “You haven’t answered my question,” she said quietly but firmly.

“Question?” Ginny asked, confused.

“About how you obtained this necklace,” Narcissa answered.

“Oh!” Ginny said. “I’m sorry. It was a gift from my brother Fred on my sixteenth birthday. He told me that he found it in one of the thrift stores in Diagon Alley. It was tarnished and the clasp was broken, but it had my birthday already engraved on the back. He thought that was too good a coincidence to pass up, so he bought it, fixed the clasp, and cleaned it up for me.”

“I see,” Narcissa said, looking at the necklace once more. “Your birthday is the eleventh of August, then?”

Ginny nodded.

“And Fred,” Narcissa continued. “He is the brother you… lost at Hogwarts, is that right?”

“Yes,” Ginny said. “It made the necklace even more special.”

“I can see that it would,” Narcissa said quietly. Ginny was surprised to see that she seemed genuinely sympathetic.

There was a long pause as both women contemplated the necklace in Narcissa’s hands. After a while, Ginny asked, “It is yours, then? A family heirloom?”

“Yes,” Narcissa said. “It belonged to my mother-in-law. My father-in-law gave it to her in honor of the day they learned she was carrying Lucius, after many years of failed attempts to have children.”

“August 11, 1953?” Ginny asked.

“Yes,” Narcissa confirmed. “This necklace was a great favorite of my mother-in-law’s, partly because she associated it with such happy news. She even wore it while sitting for one of her portraits. But one day, she wore it to Diagon Alley, and when she returned home, it was gone. I suppose from what you’ve told me today, the clasp must have broken.”

“I’m sorry to have kept it for so long,” Ginny said. “I would have brought it to you sooner, but I only found out it was yours today.”

“I understand,” Narcissa reassured. “It’s very kind of you to return it at all.”

“It was the right thing to do,” Ginny said. “I couldn’t keep it, knowing it wasn’t rightfully mine, as much as I love it.”

“I’ve never cared for the necklace, personally,” Narcissa said. “I always found it too… colorful, myself.”

Ginny stifled a grin. At least she had the grace not to call the necklace gaudy!

“If I were the only one to consider,” Narcissa continued, “I would allow you to keep it. But I do have to keep Draco’s future wife in mind.” Ginny’s breath caught unexpectedly at this comment, but she didn’t have time to examine why, because Narcissa was still speaking. “And considering both its sentimental and monetary value, I couldn’t really deprive her of her rightful inheritance just because of my personal taste.”

“Monetary value?” Ginny asked, confused. “But it’s made of glass!”

Narcissa looked up quickly. “I can assure you,” she said, her lips twitching up on one side, “that every one of these stones is genuine.”

“Genuine?” Ginny asked, dumbfounded. “Do you mean genuine gemstones?”

“Of course!” Narcissa answered. Ginny got the distinct impression that Narcissa was shocked that she could think a Malfoy might wear anything less.

“But Fred only paid five Sickles for it!”

“Five Sickles!” Narcissa said, astonished. “But that’s absurd!” She raised her hand quickly to cover her mouth. Ginny wasn’t sure, but considering the gleam in her eye, she thought the older woman might be stifling a laugh.

Unfortunately, Ginny wasn’t lucky enough to be able to stifle her own. The thought that for years, she had worn a necklace that was probably worth more than she paid in rent for an entire year, and had never known it, combined with the stress of the past few days, caused her to fall into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Several minutes later, when she was able to control herself again, she choked out, “I’m so sorry!”

Narcissa smiled at her. “There’s no need to apologize. The whole situation really is quite amusing.”

“Not that amusing!” Ginny said, with a wide grin, just barely holding off another giggle fit.

“That’s as may be,” Narcissa said. “But it would be the height of rudeness for me to say otherwise, especially after you have done this family such a great service by returning this necklace.”

“I’m glad I did, especially now that I know its true value,” Ginny said, rising to her feet. “And now that I have, I should probably get back to the theater. I’m afraid I haven’t been much help the past few days.”

“Thank you very much for coming today,” Narcissa said, standing and leading the way into the entrance hall.

“It was my pleasure,” Ginny said, smiling.

“I hope you’ll visit again soon,” Narcissa said kindly.

Ginny thought Narcissa might even mean what she said, and was amazed by it. What would induce a Malfoy to invite a Weasley into her home? In any event, Narcissa’s reasons hardly mattered. As soon as she found out that Ginny had caused Draco’s injuries, she was sure to rescind the welcome. “Perhaps,” Ginny responded noncommittally. “Thank you for the tea.”

As Ginny turned away from the house and began the walk down the drive, she had no idea that four eyes watched her until she was out of sight.

~*~*~*~

Ginny walked slowly down the drive, overcome by a strange sense of loss. She didn’t really understand it. She had never spoken to Narcissa Malfoy before, and she had hated Draco until the day before. So why did leaving Malfoy Manor seem so final? Why did she feel as if she had lost her best friend? When she reached the gate, Ginny turned to look back, but the house was no longer visible. She pushed open the gate, and Apparated to Diagon Alley, just outside the Serendipity Theater.

The theater was dark when Ginny stepped inside. With a wave of her wand, Ginny lit the grand chandelier, and her breath caught. The woodwork gleamed and the velvet shone brighter than she had ever seen it before. The whole effect was far more beautiful than Ginny had imagined on the first day she had seen the decrepit space.

The others must have finished the work while she was with Narcissa. Ginny walked slowly towards the stage. She sat on the edge so she could see the full effect of the renovations. The theater was lovely, and she’d helped make it that way. She should have felt a strong sense of accomplishment, but it was dimmed by a dull hollowness. She couldn’t forget what she had done to Draco, and that tarnished the whole experience. She sighed; she would still help with the costumes for the play—she had agreed to do that and would not break her word—she would just have to take extra care to keep out of Draco’s way as much as she could.

Ginny’s thoughts were interrupted when the lobby door opened and Draco stepped into the theater. She sat perfectly still, hoping to avoid his notice. The last thing she wanted at the moment was a repeat of that morning’s confrontation. Much to Ginny’s chagrin, Draco saw her immediately. He didn’t even bother to look around at the newly restored theater as he walked towards her. She tensed, wondering what he would say to her this time.

Draco surprised Ginny by sitting down next to her on the edge of the stage. For a few moments, he quietly watched his feet as they dangled below him. “I’m sorry.”

Ginny looked at him incredulously. “You’re sorry? What do you have to be sorry for?” she asked.

“For accusing you of stealing my grandmother’s necklace,” Draco said evenly.

Ginny looked at him blankly.

“It wasn’t fair of me to jump to conclusions,” Draco continued. “I should have talked to my mother first.”

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Ginny said skeptically. “You are apologizing to me for jumping to conclusions?”

“That’s what I said, yes,” Draco answered.

“After I did the same thing to you for weeks, with much worse consequences?”

“What you may or may not have done is immaterial,” Draco answered. “I allowed my emotions to cloud my judgment, and I was wrong, so I owe you an apology.”

Ginny stared at Draco for a moment, then buried her face in her hands, embarrassed by just how badly she had misjudged him. “Oh, Merlin, I’ve been such an idiot!”

“I think I’ll refrain from commenting on that, if it’s all the same to you,” Draco said wryly.

Ginny looked up to see Draco smiling a little at her. Reassured, she took a deep breath and said, “I’m the one who should apologize to you. I totally misjudged you. I assumed you were the same as you were at Hogwarts, and didn’t even stop to look at you as you are now. And I used to think I was such a fair person.” She paused, shaking her head ruefully. “And what I did on Tuesday… There was no excuse for that. No excuse at all. So I’m sorry, and I hope you can bring yourself to forgive me some day.”

“I can’t say that the whole experience wasn’t painful and humiliating,” Draco said. Ginny’s heart plummeted until he added, “But after you talked to my mother today—”

Ginny was surprised enough to interrupt. “Your mother already told you about that?” she asked. “But I only left your house half an hour ago!”

“She didn’t have to tell me,” Draco said.

“What do you mean?” Ginny asked.

“I mean that I heard the whole conversation for myself,” Draco said calmly. “I was in the next room the whole time.”

“You eavesdropped on us?” Ginny asked, agape.

“What did you expect?” Draco asked ironically. “I may not be the same boy I was at Hogwarts, but I haven’t changed that much.”

“I expected you to be here, helping with the woodwork!”

“After I left you in the lobby, I found Monty and begged off, claiming a headache,” Draco explained. “You have to admit it was a plausible excuse.”

Ginny blushed. “I guess so,” she said. “And you heard our whole conversation?”

“All of it,” Draco confirmed.

Ginny sat still for a moment, trying to remember if she had said anything she would rather he not have heard. She couldn’t think of anything, but one part of her conversation with Narcissa did stand out. “You didn’t tell your mother that I was the one who hexed you on Tuesday,” she said.

“No, I didn’t,” Draco said simply.

“Why not?” Ginny asked. If someone had done something similar to her, she wouldn’t have been able to keep quiet about it.

Draco looked away. “I’m not really sure why not,” he said quietly. “I guess I just didn’t want her to know how wrong I had been.”

“How wrong you had been about what?” Ginny asked, equally quietly.

“About you,” Draco answered. “I think that’s what hurt the most about Tuesday—realizing that you didn’t really see me, just the boy from Hogwarts.”

“I’m sorry,” Ginny began.

Draco didn’t let her continue. “As I was saying before we got sidetracked, after hearing some of the things you and my mother said today, I came to a number of realizations. One of them was that not only was I wrong about the necklace, I also share the blame for the rest of it. So of course I forgive you; it would be rather hypocritical of me not to, don’t you think?”

“But you don’t share the blame at all!” Ginny protested. “It was all my fault! I was so blind!”

“Yes, you were mistaken about me,” Draco said, “but I’m responsible for not setting you straight. I could have stopped egging you on, given you more reason to see that I didn’t really hate you, but I was too busy being mistaken about you.” He smirked ironically. “I actually thought you were flirting back.”

Ginny gasped in surprise. “You were flirting with me?” she asked. But then she remembered Sophie’s suggestion that Draco fancied her; it had seemed so incredible at the time, but apparently she had been right.

“Shamelessly,” Draco said, smirking. “Does that bother you?”

Ginny’s first instinct was to say, “Yes!”. But she had acted on her instincts too often when it came to Draco. Instead, she paused to give the question serious consideration. What if she hadn’t known Draco before? What if she had met him for the first time at the theater? What would she have thought of him then?

The answer came to her along with a fluttering feeling in her stomach. She would have thought he had a brilliant sense of humor. She would have provoked him just to see what he would do. She would have recognized that he was flirting with her. And it wouldn’t have bothered her in the least.

“To be honest, no, it doesn’t bother me,” Ginny answered, blushing scarlet. “Not now, anyway.”

“Really?” Draco asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Would it bother you if I continued to flirt with you?”

Ginny looked at Draco, noticing for the first time just how handsome he really was, with his strong frame and aristocratic features—he was handsome and funny and he still seemed to like her despite everything she had done to him. She felt genuinely happy for the first time in two days. “No,” she said, smiling. “And if you’re lucky, I might just flirt back.”

“Might you?” Draco asked, one side of his mouth turning up in a half smile. “In that case, would I be pushing it if I asked you to join me for dinner tonight?”

“I don’t know,” Ginny said mischievously. “Are you sure I won’t hex you again?”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Draco said. “Haven’t you noticed that I find a willingness to hex me when I deserve it attractive in a woman?”

Ginny laughed, amazed at how comfortable she felt with Draco now. “In that case,” she said, “I’d be happy to have dinner with you, and I’ll be sure to keep my wand handy.”

“By all means,” Draco said, smiling. There was a long pause, then he asked more seriously, “Can I ask one more thing of you?”

“You can ask,” Ginny said.

“Will you wear this to dinner?” Draco asked, extending his hand.

Ginny looked down and was surprised to see Draco holding out the necklace she had returned to Narcissa that morning. “But it’s your mother’s!” she said.

“She won’t mind,” Draco said. “She doesn’t like it, remember?”

“You don’t like it!” Ginny retorted. “You think it’s gaudy.”

“I did,” Draco said, nodding. “It’s grown on me, though. It turns out that sentimental value adds to its charm after all.”

“The story about your grandparents touched you that much?” Ginny asked skeptically.

“Oh, no,” Draco said, waving a hand dismissively. “I couldn’t care less about that.”

“Then what kind of sentimental value can it have?”

“Without this necklace, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now, and you certainly wouldn’t have agreed to have dinner with me tonight.”

“Oh,” Ginny said quietly. She supposed that he was right, in a convoluted sort of way.

“So, will you wear it?” Draco asked.

“I couldn’t possibly,” Ginny said, shaking her head.

“Why not?” Draco asked, confused. “You’ve worn it for years.”

“That was before I knew how much it was worth.” That piece of information was sure to leave her reeling for weeks.

“It will just sit in the vault if you don’t wear it,” Draco said persuasively.

“But why?” Ginny asked, turning so she could look more fully at Draco. “Why do you want me to wear it?”

“Partly because I know it’s important to you, because it reminds you of your brother. It’s one way of making amends for my accusation,” Draco said.

“You don’t need to make amends, Draco,” Ginny said. “I’m just happy that you seem to have forgiven me for what I did to you.”

Draco ignored her entirely. “And partly,” he continued, reaching out to trace a finger along Ginny’s collarbone. “Partly because I can’t imagine it on any other woman.”

Draco’s words sent shivers down Ginny’s spine. She thought of what Narcissa had said about the necklace being destined for Draco’s future wife, and from the intensity of his expression, wondered if he was thinking about that too. She didn’t say anything, however. It was too soon to contemplate anything even resembling marriage; she was still adjusting to the idea that she might actually like him.

Draco’s fingers had moved to Ginny’s cheek, making it difficult for her to think. She stilled his hand with her own. “Fine, then,” she said breathily. “I’ll wear it, but just this once.”

“We’ll see about that,” Draco said slyly.

Ginny had no chance to respond, as Monty stepped out from the wings just then. “Hello, hello!” he boomed. “I see you two are both feeling better. Just like this theater—just like new. Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Yes, beautiful,” Ginny said happily, looking around at the theater once more. It somehow looked brighter now than it had when she came in; everything looked brighter. “Does anything else need to be done, Monty?”

“No, no,” Monty answered. “Not today at any rate. Tomorrow’s another matter, of course. Now that the restoration work is done, we can start in earnest on the play, and the real fun begins!”

“We’ll see you tomorrow, then, Monty,” Ginny said cheerfully, but the director had already disappeared back stage. She turned to Draco. “Until tonight, then?” she asked.

“Until tonight,” Draco answered, taking one of Ginny’s hands in both of his own, and pressing the necklace into her palm. He smirked, then added, “When the real fun begins.”

“We’ll see,” Ginny said, laughing. She extracted her hands from Draco’s and began to make her way out of the theater. She could feel his eyes on her as she walked, and the sensation gave her goose bumps. Ginny realized that she had no idea of what to expect from Draco, but she was very much looking forward to finding out.