You are the reason for my laughter and my sorrow,

Blow out the candle, I will burn again tomorrow… 

Love You Inside Out – The Bee Gees

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Draco purred in Ginny’s ear. He wrapped his arms around her waist and slid his hands into the pockets of her dressing gown. She looked up from the pan of sausages and reached over her shoulder to caress his unshaven face. She turned halfway around and kissed him, stubble and all. 

“Hello, darling. Did you sleep well?”

“Hmm.” He grabbed around her to fetch a cup of coffee. “Do you want one?”  

“No, I’m good,” she said, pointing toward her half-full cup. It was her favorite, as her team captain had given it to her for acing her first magazine interview after she joined the Holyhead Harpies.  

He picked up a slice of toast and buttered it generously. “So what are you doing today, other than going to practice?”  

“Nothing much. Gwenog called a team meeting to plan our strategies for the regional play-offs. She says now that Katherine and I have been with them for a couple seasons, she thinks we have what it takes to make it to the World Cup.” 

“That’s great, honey.” Taking notice of the time, he shoved the last of his breakfast into his mouth, slurped down his coffee, and jumped up to get ready for another day at the office. 

He kissed her soundly. Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, he tossed it into the fireplace and clearly shouted his destination: “Ministry Headquarters!”

Ginny’s Quidditch practice went off without a hitch and was over by 1:30. “Now let’s see what this meeting is all about,” Katherine murmured to the young chaser, who grinned surreptitiously.  

Just as the seven ladies were taking their seats, the team’s manager came dashing in with an envelope addressed to Ginny Weasley.  

“Miss Weasley! Urgent message from Harry Potter!” he informed her. Soft gasps were heard around the conference room. Ginny had no idea why Harry would have written to her, and she was concerned by the manager’s use of the word ‘Urgent’. She opened it quickly and scanned it, her teammates watching her nervously.  

“I’m really sorry, Gwenog, but I have to go. Harry needs to see me. He says it’s very important. Please excuse me.” She stood up to leave, hoping the captain wouldn’t try to detain her. 

Gwenog sighed. “Fine, go ahead. You can watch this later in the Pensieve. And don’t smile at me like that. I’m only doing this because it’s Harry Potter,” she snapped. “So don’t start expecting it!”  

When Ginny arrived, Harry was already waiting on her doorstep. He was nibbling at his nails, and his expression made her uneasy. “What’s wrong, Harry?” 

“Not out here. Inside.” She frowned at him and looked over her shoulder but saw no one.  

Once they were in the flat, she hung their jackets on the brass coat rack. “What is it?” she asked him once more.  

Instead of answering, he paced near the entryway and messed with his unruly hair. “Could we—do you mind if I sit down?”  

“Not at all. I’ll go make some tea.” He nodded his thanks and headed for the sofa. She returned a few minutes later, setting a tray of tea and refreshments in front of him. He grabbed a couple of biscuits while she poured for both of them.  

“Thanks,” he mumbled through a mouthful of crumbs. 

“Good, aren’t they? They’re Draco’s favorite.” Stirring her tea, she prompted him, “All right, Harry. What’s the problem?”  

He cleared his throat and said, “Malfoy and you…that’s kind of…weird, isn’t it? No, not weird, but what I mean is, how exactly did it happen?”  

“How did what happen?” 

“You and Malfoy.” 

Taken aback, she said, “You called me away from work, just to ask me that?”  

“Well…sort of.”  

When she narrowed her eyes and reached for her wand, he confessed. 

“I’m in love, Ginny…with a Muggle. She works with my cousin Dudley. You remember Dudley, right? Hefty guy, blond hair, kind of a bruiser? Now this may sound strange, but we’re friends now.”  

“What?” she laughed. “Your selfish pig of a cousin, Dudley, with his two bedrooms, and chins, is a friend of yours?”  

Harry grinned sheepishly. “I told you it was strange. Anyway, Dudley works at a pub in Soho. That’s a sort of a shopping centre in London. One night, Drusilla took my order, and there’s just something about her that I can’t put my finger on. But by the time she brought my bill, I was smitten.”  

“That’s great, Harry. What’s she like?” 

He got a faraway look in his eye and sighed. “She’s beautiful. Light blue eyes, pale, perfect skin, wavy blonde hair down to her shoulders. Straight, white teeth. She’s definitely fit. When I asked Dudley about her, he said she’s going to school to become a pediatric nurse. She’s an angel.”  

She took a sip of her tea then asked, “And this ‘angel’ doesn’t have a boyfriend?” 

“Not at the moment. Dudley said her last boyfriend moved with his parents to Canada about four months ago and isn’t coming back. When he left, she buckled down on her studies. She gets asked by blokes out all the time, but she’s turned every one of them down.”  

“Have you asked her out yet?” 

He coughed a little then shrugged as he thumbed at a frayed part of his jeans. “No, I don’t know how to. That’s why I came to you. I hoped you could help me.”  

He paused for a moment before continuing.  

“I mean, with you, it was different. You knew who I was before I did. You had always liked me. I was just too stupid to notice you, really. By the time I did…I guess I’d missed my chance.”  

When she said nothing, he took the extending silence as his cue to go on. “But with Drusilla, I’m stumped. She’s a Muggle, so I don’t know what to do or how to attract her.” 

“That could be a problem. I really don’t that much about…” she began but stopped in mid-sentence. Looking a bit peeved, she crossed her arms and asked, “Say, why aren’t you discussing this with Hermione? She’s Muggleborn. She would know better than me what Muggle girls like.”  

He shook his head despondently. “Can’t. She and Ron are in Venice for the weekend.” 

“And this couldn’t wait until Monday?” she shot back in annoyance. 

“That’s not it, Ginny,” he insisted. “It’s not about Muggle versus magical; it’s about the laws of attraction and making someone fall for you. I know how Ron and Hermione got together, and frankly, I don’t want to wait that long. I came to ask about how you and Draco got together. You’ve got to admit, your being in love is about as unlikely as it gets. Please, Ginny, you’ve got to help me. I’m dying here.” 

She licked her lips and smiled. “Tell you what, Harry. You help me make dinner, and I’ll tell you exactly what happened.”

* * * * *

Within a few minutes, Harry had donned a lacy apron and was chopping up lettuce for a salad. Ginny would have given him something more masculine to wear over his clothes, but she felt he had earned a little humiliation. While she started thawing the steaks, Harry asked her, “What attracted you to Malfoy in the first place?” 

“I dunno. I suppose it started back when Umbridge was playing High Inquisitor. Right before I hexed him in her office, he winked at me, licked his lips, and gave me a really sexy smile.”  

She pointed her wand to the recipe card, which recited the next step in her mum’s voice: After you’ve added the garlic and the shallots, stir it slowly clockwise five times and pour it over the meat. Don’t forget to charm it to turn every 15 minutes!  

“Remember when we all came back to the Burrow after the battle at Hogwarts? That was when Hermione first told me about being at Malfoy Manor and the charm she cast that made your face swell up so no one would recognize you. We got to talking, and we both wondered: How could Draco not know who you were? He’d only been going to school with you for six years,” she said setting the meat back in the refrigerator to soak.  

“I don’t know. I did look pretty freakish.” He suddenly stopped chopping lettuce and set down the knife. “What are you saying, Ginny?”  

“Hermione thought – well, we both thought – that he knew who you were but chose not to say anything. He was protecting you.”  

He opened his mouth and laughed out loud. “Malfoy never—” he began, but she cut him off.

“I know what you’re thinking, Harry. What a ludicrous idea, a Malfoy protecting you!”  

He slammed his hand down on the table. “You’re damn right! He once cracked my nose with his foot, or have you forgotten? And that’s not the worst thing he ever did to me,” he added, hacking away at the lettuce. 

She glared at him and put a hand on her hip. “Does Sectumsempra ring a bell?” 

Harry gritted his teeth, the color rising in his cheeks.  

Ginny continued, “I thought about it now and then. Eventually, I decided to at least go talk to him about it.” She licked the brownie batter off her wooden spoon then crossed her arms and shrugged. “And that was just the beginning.”

* * * * *

Three Years Earlier

The light afternoon rain was just clearing off as Ginny reached her destination. Malfoy Manor looked subdued, almost morose. 

A shy female house-elf admitted her then led her up the grand spiral staircase and down a long hallway.  Then she stopped and pointed at a door before dashing off.  Ginny looked at the door, which was ajar. 

She stood there alone, not sure if she should knock or wait. She was about to tap on the door when she heard Draco’s voice coming from the other side. She dropped her hand and listened to him instead. 

“You don’t know how lonely it was growing up without any playmates; and if I have any say in it, you never will. I’m going to have a whole houseful of kids, so you’ll never lack for playmates.” 

Who was he talking to?  

Ginny looked inside cautiously. She could just see around Draco’s left shoulder. Tiny flying horses with cherubs on them were parading around in a slow circle. The first notes of a lullaby clinked as if they were being played on a miniature piano. It was one of Ginny’s favorites, too: All Through the Night. 

Then a baby laughed. 

“Excuse me, Malfoy?” she said, leaning inside the room. 

He startled, jerked upright, and slammed his head into one of the flying horses, sending it sailing across the room. Spinning around, he snapped, “What?” He grabbed onto his wand and thrust it toward her. “What the hell…Weasley? Who let you in?” 

“One of your house-elves.”  

“I’ll bet it was that stupid one, the one we’re keeping for another family,” he muttered. “Damn it, we never should have agreed to keep her, not even for a day.”

When the baby cooed, Draco stopped his whinging and turned around. He noticed that one of the rocking horses had started to sway out of its orbit, so he adjusted it with his wand. 

Ginny inched closer to the baby and softened her tone. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Who’s the little one?” 

Draco cast a glance to the youngster beneath the mobile. “My cousin, Teddy.”  

“Professor Lupin and Tonks’ son?” she whispered in a surprised tone she didn’t bother to hide. “Why is he here?”  

“I might ask the same of you!” He drew up to his full height, stormed toward her, and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Why are you here?”  

“I’m sorry, I just…wanted to talk to you, that’s all.”

The melody on the mobile slowed down then faded altogether. Teddy nodded off to sleep.  

Draco looked back at his little cousin. “We’d better go elsewhere,” he suggested. “Not that he’s a light sleeper, but I know you can’t always control your temper.”  

“That is not true!” She glared at him and raised her wand, tightening her grip on it so her knuckles started to turn white.  

He smirked at her. “There you go, Weasley, vastly overestimating yourself again.” When he reached out to her hand, she pulled her arm back and lowered it. She snorted in disgust.   

“Whatever. By the way, it’s Ginny, not Weasley.”

“Right.” 

Leaving Teddy’s door open a few inches, Draco took her to a sitting room two doors down the hallway and directed her to the nearest window. 

“Are you, um, babysitting your cousin?” she asked. The silence and the stuffy air were making her uncomfortable. 

“That would fall under the category of ‘none of your bloody business’, Weasley. Oh, sorry. Ginny.”  

She looked at him, stunned by his rudeness.  

After pouring himself a drink, he sat down on the sofa. “You wanted to talk. So talk,” he told her as he swirled the contents in his glass.  

“Yes. Well, I…this is probably going to sound stupid.” 

“Probably.”  

She bit her tongue then focused on why she had come there in the first place. “This isn’t easy for me, you know.” 

“Then don’t start out by saying how stupid you are.” 

“I didn’t say I was stupid! I said...oh, never mind!” Ginny took a deep breath then started again. “I just wanted to thank you for not ratting Harry out, when he was here right before the battle.” 

He put a finger to his chin and looked at her. “Not ratting out Harry Potter? When did I miss that opportunity? Because I assure you, that’s not like me at all.” 

“You know, when Hermione used that charm to make his face swell up like he’d been stung by bees. I know you could see it was him, but you said you couldn’t be sure.” 

Draco gaped at her. After a pause, he started to smile, clapped his hands slowly, and laughed. “Ohh, so Potter’s girlfriend thinks I kept him ‘safe’ from the Dark Lord? Now that is rich!”  

When she’d first had this plan, she had no idea how he would react. Feeling the sting of frustration and humiliation, her cheeks colored to a bright red. 

He chuckled again and shook his head. “Why on earth would I do that? I honestly didn’t recognize him!” Guffawing, he finished with, “I have to say, as annoying as she is, that Granger is good. She saved his life, not me.”  

“Really? Is that how it happened?” she said. “And I am not his girlfriend!” 

"You aren’t? Well, that is fortunate.”  

She’d had just about enough of his mocking her. “Fortunate? I don’t see how that could possibly mean anything to you!”  

“Oh, on the contrary, it means a great deal to me.”

“How so?” she asked, walking right into his hand. 

“Because it means there won’t be any green-eyed, pimply, red-haired witches and wizards of substandard intelligence and limited abilities rubbing elbows at Hogwarts with my own children someday, interrupting their studies with ridiculous accusations about dark magic and evil-doings that are simply not true.”  

The more he said, the more she itched to hex him. Or kiss him, just to stop his infernal yapping. 

He continued talking, but she had long since stopped listening. She stared at him intently. Her gaze was soon drawn to his smoky eyes and then down to his perfect mouth. Ginny stared at his lips, mesmerized by the way the words were rolling smoothly off his tongue, his deep, resonating voice making her want to jump his bones. He was infuriating, to be sure, but the heat radiating from him was palpable.  

Feeling she was losing the battle, she stood up as if to go. But instead of walking out, she closed the distance between them and kissed him on the lips.

She could tell from his response that he hadn’t expected that at all. Ginny backed up a step or two and continued to stare into his horrified eyes.

“Whether it was intentional or not,” she said, “you went against your instincts and, in your own way, saved Harry from the Dark Lord.”  

He latched onto her forearm and pulled her to him. “And I’ll thank you not to do that again,” Draco whispered, wrapping his arms around her. “Not unless you mean it.” He kissed her back with such fire that Ginny felt her knees start to give way. She straddled across his lap and kissed him once more, more than matching his enthusiasm.  

He closed and locked the door with a whispered spell. She shuddered. He ran his hands through her hair before grasping her face. He pushed her back a bit and studied her. Lost in his luminous eyes, she felt her desire surge.  

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered into her ear. 

“Since that day five years ago in Umbridge’s office?” He nodded. “I know. I felt it, too.” His lips traced a slow, tender line along her throat. When they found a spot that caused her to let out a soft moan, he licked it and gave her a gentle bite. She gasped, and her breathing quickened. 

“Do you always get what you want?” he asked. 

“Usually.”  

Just as Draco’s slender fingers were inching their way up the lower edge of her blouse, Teddy started to cry. Ginny sighed. “But not today, I guess. You’d better go look in on him.”  

He stood up and straightened his clothing. Then he pointed a finger at her and said, “We’ll continue this later, Ginny Weasley.”

* * * * *

She went to Quidditch practice the next day. But in her mind, she was miles away, lying on a sofa at Malfoy Manor, straddling the blond wizard beneath her and preparing to devour him as if he were a delectable dessert. She felt delirious at the memory of his kiss, so full of promise and reward. 

“Ginny, watch out!” Katherine shouted as a Bludger went whizzing past Ginny’s head. 

“Oh, shite!” Snapping out of her daydream, she dove into action.  

She grabbed onto the Quaffle and carried it down the playing field, dodging her teammates who were sent in to stop her. When she took aim to throw it for the center hoop, the Golden Snitch flew less than a foot in front of her nose. Barbara, the Seeker, was hot on its trail and nearly knocked Ginny off her broom.

“Sorry, love!” Barbara hollered as she pursued her own goal.  

The Quaffle went astray and fell toward the ground. The team’s other Chaser flew after it and recovered it, getting past the Keeper and making the shot Ginny had been aiming for. Soon the Snitch was captured, and the practice game had ended. 

In the locker room after practice, Katherine came up to Ginny, who was toweling her hair dry. “Gin, where were you today?”  

Barbara grinned. “Probably thinking of some handsome bloke she met recently. Her mind hasn’t been off her game this badly since she got here,” she said, tightening her shoelace. 

Ginny didn’t say anything, but she did blush a little. “Got it one, eh?” the Seeker said as she stood upright and high-fived Katherine. Her teammates laughed. “So, who is this fellow? Is he cute, like your brother, Ron?”

The redhead grunted, “Ron is not cute.” 

“Well, I’ve seen the magazines, dearie, and I say he is. A right hottie! That Granger’s one lucky girl.” Ginny just rolled her eyes then finished getting dressed, tossing her practice uniform into the bin for the staff to launder.  

Once Barbara and the other noisier players left for the pub, Ginny relaxed a little. She told Katherine, “Actually, I did meet someone. Or rather, became reacquainted with someone, an old schoolmate.”  

Her friend was intrigued. “Ooh, how nice. Did he ask you out?” 

“Not exactly. We were snogging on his sofa when we got interrupted, and he said we would continue it later, which I’m all for, of course.”  

This made Katherine smile. But when Ginny complained that he didn’t specify when, she set down her brush and said, “You know, Gin, those Muggle girls have it made.”  

“Is that right? How so?” 

Katherine elaborated as she counted off on her fingers. “They’ve got electric curlers, mobile telephones, birth control they take just four times a year, push-up bras, and Merlin knows what other benefits of modern life. I’ve heard some of them even pursue the men they like on their own, without waiting around for him to make the first move.” 

“Really?” 

“Sure. I think you ought to send him flowers and invite him to our next game. What can it hurt?” 

At first, she hesitated. “I only saw him yesterday. Shouldn’t I at least give him a chance to contact me?” 

“Whatever for? You like him, and he’s clearly interested in you. I think you should do it. After all, what’s wrong with a witch going after what she wants?”

Ginny decided that Kat was probably right and promised she would stop by the florist on her way home.

* * * * *

Three days later, she hadn’t heard word one from him. She wondered if she’d made a huge mistake by being so forward. 

That night, Ginny heard a knock on her front door. She looked out the peephole. Not seeing anyone, she cracked open the door, wand in hand.  

“Hello?” she called into the night. Stepping outside, she felt something soft give way under her feet and heard a sound like the crinkling of paper.  

She looked down, wondering what she’d stepped on. Were those the flowers she had sent? They were the same varieties, but they were withered, almost completely black, and covered in frostbite, rather like a Dementor had gotten too close to them. On closer inspection, she could see that her card was still there. It had been ripped open.  

Then she noticed a second envelope amid the rubbish. In the dark, it looked to be a shade of grey. Anxious to get back inside and examine its contents, she bent down and scooped everything up. 

Ginny closed the door. She frowned at the flowers and opened the envelope. When she looked down, she realized the envelope wasn’t grey and whispered, “Bloody hell.”  

She tried to cast a silencing charm, hoping it would keep her neighbors from the message, but the screaming had already begin. 

“You stupid, stupid girl!” the parchment shouted angrily. “I don’t like you and I never have. What makes you think a Malfoy would ever like a Weasley? I hate everything about you: your hair, your freckles, and your stupid brothers. I especially hate your parents. What possessed them to have so many brats? If they’d stopped with two or three, you wouldn’t be bothering me now! Now, sod off and leave me alone!”  

All at once, it disintegrated. Ginny looked down at the shredded parchment in stunned silence. She waved her wand to dispose of the remains and walked slowly toward the kitchen. At first, she was mortified, but the more she thought about it, the angrier she got.

“No!” she shouted to the empty flat. “I don’t believe it’s from him. Someone interfered: his mother, his father, a ‘concerned’ friend.”  

And yet, the more she thought about it, the more the Howler’s message seemed to ring true.  “It certainly sounded like him, and he’s said things like that before…maybe he really isn’t interested.”  

She changed into her pajamas, made a cuppa, and curled up on the sofa to read. Disappointed but determined not to let this little misstep get her down, she opened up her well-worn copy of Jane Eyre and told herself, “There are plenty of attractive, eligible wizards out there. I’ll just find another.”

* * * * *

But two weeks later, Ginny realized she didn’t want to. The Harpies had won their game that afternoon, the one she had invited him to when she’d sent the flowers. She decided to spend the rest of it in Diagon Alley to try and take her mind off things. Things like Draco Malfoy.  

She noticed that Quality Quidditch Supplies was still open, which reminded her that Ron had recommended she look at a new broom to help improve her game. By the way he was hinting, though, she thought he wanted it for himself as a congratulatory engagement gift. Since she was there anyway, she decided to give it a look.  

The broom was everything Ron didn’t need. It was fairly expensive and a little hard to handle. Even if he had intended it for her, she decided to stick with the broom she had for now. She thanked the shopkeeper then stepped back outside. When she did, a surprised voice came up from behind her. 

“Ginny?”  

She froze. Draco. Her mind went blank with horror before scrambling for an escape route. 

But it was too late. He was already closing in on her. 

“It is you! Couldn’t miss that hair, could I?” He smiled as he leaned in to hug her. She stiffened. “Did you get the owl I sent last week?” 

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “That depends. Was it in a red envelope, the kind that screams when you open it?” 

“What are you talking about? Do you mean you got a Howler?” 

“Yes! When you returned the flowers I’d sent, I assumed you changed mind. But to send me a Howler was completely uncalled for!” she said, unable to fight the angry blush that crept across her cheeks. 

“Returned the…what flowers?”  

“Goodbye, Draco.”  

She turned away, but he grabbed onto her sleeve to pull her back. “Hey, wait a minute!” She could see the pleading in his eyes. “Look, I’m sorry about all this Howler nonsense, but I promise, I didn’t send it. I didn’t even see the flowers. It’s nice to be the one who gets them, instead of the other way around.” 

“Oh.” Her anger deflated,  and she stared at the ground. She hadn’t considered this.  

He chuckled. “Don’t worry. Someone was playing a joke on you, probably my father, or maybe one of your brothers. I can see them doing that, can’t you? When you walk inside the joke shop, I bet George will start laughing his arse off.”  

“No, I don’t think so,” Ginny said, looking concerned.

“Say, I need to go to Flourish and Blott’s. My mother wants to get her hands on a copy of Gilderoy Lockhart’s Magical Me.” 

“Why?” she asked, making a face. 

“Haven’t you heard? Now that he’s remembered who he is, owning a signed copy of any of his books is all the rage.” He smiled, put his arm around her shoulder, and motioned toward the book store. “Come on, now. They won’t be open all night.” She laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Sure. Why not?”  

They browsed row after row of books but could find nothing by Lockhart. “Sold out,” the clerk proudly informed them. “We do have copies of Ollivander’s memoirs. That book’s been quite popular since it came out at Christmas.”  

Draco declined. 

The two continued strolling through the shop to spend more time together. The school books, which were near the back of the store this time of year, made her think of the first time they’d met. “You were so rude,” she reminded him. “I’d known you all of five minutes and already hoped I wouldn’t be sorted into your house.” 

“I couldn’t help it. I was so jealous of Potter. He was famous, good at Quidditch…and then he had this pretty girl standing up for him. It was maddening!”

She bit her lip and looked up at him, feeling a sudden urge to kiss him. She acted on it. Within a few seconds, neither of them cared if the clerk could see them. She backed him up against a shelf, pushing her fingers into his hair and her tongue into his mouth. Things were becoming a bit heated when the bell above the door jingled loudly. The pair split apart as if the sound contained a spark. 

Ginny noticed it was starting to get dark outside. Checking her watch, she said, “I’m sorry, but I really need to go home.” 

“Can’t I come with you?” he whispered, swooping down for another deep, languorous kiss. As tempting as it sounded, she had to refuse. One thing would lead to another and then – she doubted either could stop after just one go. 

“I wish you could, but I have an early practice tomorrow.” 

“Didn’t the Harpies kick another team’s arse today?” 

“Yes, and that’s when we hit the playing field the hardest. That’s how Gwenog likes to do things: strike while the iron’s hot.”  

Placing a light kiss on her neck, he grabbed onto her bum and pulled her closer to him. “What a lucky coincidence,” he murmured, “I just happen to have one in my trousers.” 

“As tempting as that sounds, I’m afraid it will have to wait.” She kissed him once more and left for home.

* * * * *

Later that week, Ginny ran into Hermione, who told her that Madam Pince had decided to retire. The librarian had a strained relationship with most of the students at Hogwarts, but Hermione told Professor McGonogall that she would be happy to help with the party arrangements.  

She said some other stuff – something about the wedding plans and bridesmaid dresses – but by then, Ginny was only half-listening. The words ‘Hogwarts’ and ‘librarian’ had given her a wonderful idea. She decided she would surprise Draco by acquiring the very book his mother wanted. Fortunately, she knew exactly where to get it.  

Smiling to herself, she penned her request and sent it on its way.  

When Harry got her owl, he sent his copy of Lockhart’s book to her without question. He had no problem parting with it. The book had been packed away in a trunk and gathering dust for almost ten years. Giving it to her meant “one less thing to think about,” he told her in his reply. 

Ginny was excited at the prospect of making both Draco and his mother happy. After vanishing the words ‘Best wishes, Harry!’ from Lockhart’s autograph line, she applied a much-needed cleaning and dusting charm to the book. Next, she checked her schedule to see when she would have time to deliver it to Malfoy Manor. She got in touch with Draco at his office and agreed to come over next Sunday afternoon at two o’clock. 

When the day arrived, Ginny stood at the front door of Malfoy Manor, clutching the book and tapping her foot. After knocking for the third time, the door swung open. The same timid house-elf who had let her in before stood there staring at her.  Ginny stared back. 

“Is, uh, Draco at home?”  

“That would be depending, Miss…what is young miss’s name?  

“Miss Weasley. Ginny Weasley,” she announced, clutching the book in front of her chest. She eyed her with suspicion.

“Does Mr. Draco be expecting you?” 

“Yes. We have a two o’clock appointment.” 

The elf hesitated longer than Ginny expected, much longer than she had on her previous visit. At last, she stepped aside and permitted her to enter. “This way.”

Attempting to make conversation, she asked, “Is Draco where he was the last time I came?”  

“Most likely, yes,” came her clipped reply followed by a light sniff that made Ginny wonder if she were crying.  

The sniffling until they reached the staircase. Feeling sorry for the elf, Ginny turned to her and said, “Look. I don’t need you to come with me. I’ll find him on my own.”  

Relieved to hear that, the elf snapped her fingers and disappeared, leaving a wisp of smoke in her wake. Ginny sighed to herself then set about trying to remember exactly where she had found Draco a few weeks earlier. Looking around, she half-regretted her decision to excuse the elf. 

For a private home, the place was monstrous. She knew the sitting room was upstairs, and she thought they had taken a right turn somewhere. She also remembered seeing a few snooty-looking family portraits lining a darkened hallway and an old suit of armor stuck off somewhere in a corner.  

Ginny took the first right turn she came to. Seeing nothing familiar, she frowned. She wandered around for a bit, searching the paintings, but didn’t see any faces she recognized. Then she heard music and Draco singing the familiar words to ‘All Through the Night’. It sounded like it was coming from around the next corner. As she rounded it, she spied the armor and felt a jolt of triumph.

She thought it strange that he would be crooning little Teddy to sleep at the same time he was expecting her. 

When she heard a faint cry coming from the direction of the music, she gasped. Was the baby all right? She heard the cry again and decided that it didn’t sound like a small child but a woman. Whoever it was sounded hurt.  

Unsure what to do next, Ginny looked over her shoulder to see if anyone else was around. She was alone. Wanting to help whoever it was, she considered the safest way to proceed. She didn’t want to get caught off-guard and walk into a trap; this was still Malfoy Manor, and if the rumors were to be believed, it could be a very dangerous place, even with You-Know-Who gone.  

When she heard the cries once more, she ignored the nagging voice in her head that said to go find help. Instead, she set the book down on a nearby table and walked on as quickly as she dared, her wand poised and ready.  

As she drew closer, she heard Draco singing, “While the weary world is sleeping, All through the night.” Then she heard a soft hiss followed by someone sobbing quietly…a woman, Ginny deduced, one who may have been brought here against her will.  

Her heart was racing. Realizing the serious nature of her predicament, she swallowed hard and looked back the way she had come. Should she turn around? Then a horrible thought occurred to her. Could Draco be sitting there calmly, singing to amuse Teddy, all the while torturing this poor girl for his own selfish enjoyment? Was it Astoria, or maybe some random Muggle?  

She wondered how she could have misjudged him so badly. 

A split-second later, she heard the baby start to fuss. Concerned for Teddy’s wellbeing, Ginny sprung into action. She charged headlong toward the room. Mindless of her own safety, she held her wand in a death grip as she prepared to disarm Draco, or whoever was in there, hurting this poor, defenseless creature.  

She reached the door, thrust it open, then stopped. Her mouth fell. 

It was the house-elf, the one she had sent away.

“What’s going on here?” Ginny demanded. “Is Teddy all right?” 

“Yes, the wee baby is fine. See? Mr. Draco has setted up the music toy for to amuse the baby.”  

“When did you come here? I mean, if you were going anyway, why’d you disappear?” 

“No, ma’am. Miss Weasley dismissed Virmella. So Virmella came to check on the baby and making sure he be happy, and…to be doing some other things.” 

“Oh…I’m sorry if I upset you. But I thought I heard someone crying just now.” 

When Virmella turned around, tears were running down her worn little face. Her tiny hands were red, and there were blisters forming on the backs of them.  

“What happened to you?” Ginny whispered as she reached out to Virmella. The house-elf withdrew. 

“Virmella were i-ironing her fingers.” The servant explained through her tears, “She have to, because she have disobeyed her mistress’s specific orders.”

Ginny studied her. “Did she command you to do something and you failed in your duties?” The servant didn’t answer. Instead, her eyes drew wide.

“Virmella is forbidden to say.”  

Wondering if simply letting her in the house was an act of disobedience, Ginny felt her heart sink. She knelt down beside Virmella. “Did I get you into trouble with Mrs. Malfoy?” 

There were tears pouring out from Virmella’s round, glassy eyes. “No,” she said. Her lips started to quiver.

“If you haven’t displeased Mrs. Malfoy, then why are you punishing yourself?”  

“Because…because Virmella doesn’t serve Mrs. Malfoy. She serves Mrs. Greengrass.” No sooner were the words out of her mouth, Virmella reached for the iron. Ginny stepped in front of her before she could reach her target. The elf began to wail and thrash about. 

“Oh, no! Virmella was not to say to any girl who is seeing Mr. Draco the name of her family! Virmella was only supposed to keep him away from the girls…Miss Greengrass and her mother, oh, they will be so angry with Virmella! They will be wanting to present her with clothes…oh, no! Virmella does not be wanting clothes!” 

“Virmella, stop! Wait!” Ginny interrupted the elf’s prattling. “Step back from the iron,” she commanded. Then she squatted down beside her and looked her in the eye. “If you’re the Greengrass’ house-elf, why are you here?” 

The servant turned away, trying to hide her face as it crinkled up. Then she started to cry again. “It were all arranged by Mistress and her daughter, Miss Astoria. Mr. Greengrass and Miss Daphne, they was both against it, but the others wanted Virmella to keep watch over Miss Astoria’s beau.” 

“But if Mr. Greengrass was opposed, why didn’t he stop them?” 

Virmella turned her eyes upward to look at Ginny. “Because,” she whispered, “because Mr. Greengrass are weak and his wife are not.” The elf paused and looked over Ginny’s shoulder. “Mr. Draco!” she called out to her temporary master, who was now standing in the doorway staring at them.  

“Draco!” Ginny cried, startled by his arrival. She stood up and closed the distance between them.  

Noticing the mobile that was still swirling above Teddy, who was now napping peacefully, Draco ordered, “Stop that, Virmella, it’s distracting.”  

She did so then fell to her knees in front of him, sobbing loudly and begging, “Oh, please, Mr. Draco, don’t be telling Mrs. Greengrass of Virmella’s bad, bad doings. Please don’t let her give Virmella clothes. She won’t speak ill of her family ever, ever again!” 

Ginny explained to him why the Greengrass family had been so keen to lend their house-elf to the Malfoys during their long trip. He shook his head in disgust. “You think you know a witch, and then she goes and pulls something like this. I told her ages ago it’s over between us. But she refuses to accept it.”  

Turning his attention back to Virmella, he said, “I think it’s time you went home. I’m sure someone there needs your help more than we do. Go collect your things now. You’re free to go.”  

Just before she was out the door, he called her back. “Yes, Mr. Draco?”  

“Hold out your hands,” he instructed as he bent down to her level. She turned them over, palms up, so he could inspect them. Ginny watched with interest, wondering if he thought she had stolen something. “No,” he said, “turn them over.” 

Virmella was shaking nervously. He exhaled and clicked his tongue. “Why do you house-elves do this to yourselves?” he asked, referring to the red marks and blisters that had formed on the backs of her hands. He murmured a simple healing spell, and her wounds cleared. Then he ordered her not to do that again, ever.  

Ginny was stunned, as was the elf. The servant threw her arms around Draco’s neck, nearly dragging him down to the floor and thanking him profusely. Once he had removed her from his neck, he stood back up. 

“Yes, yes, you’re welcome,” he said irritably. “Now if you’ll do one more thing for me.” 

Ecstatic, she promised she would. “Yes, Mr. Draco! Anything!”  

“You know my Aunt Andromeda, don’t you? She’s downstairs with my mother. Take Teddy down to her, and try not to wake him.” She nodded then levitated the carrier and the sleeping baby.  

Then Draco added, “Thank you for all the help you’ve given our family. And don’t worry, I’ll straighten everything out with the Greengrass family.” Virmella thanked him again and took Teddy out of the room.

Ginny was beaming. She had never expected such kindness from the likes of Draco Malfoy. The way she was smiling just then, she wasn’t sure if he would take it to mean she had a new-found respect for him or she wanted to rip every stitch of clothes off his body. 

Either one was possible. 

He raised his eyebrows and smiled back at her in a way that made her stomach flip. “What? You think I don’t know how to treat a servant fairly?” 

“I didn’t say that. I just…didn’t expect you to.” She placed her hand on his shoulder, gazed into his eyes, and kissed him tenderly on the cheek. “By the way, I brought that book for your mother. It’s on a table out in the hallway.”  

He nodded, his smile melting her heart. “All right.” 

Yes. There would be plenty of time for clothes ripping later.

* * * * *

Harry’s mouth was hanging open. “You gave my book to Mrs. Malfoy?” 

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t tell you before, but it did help me get in good with the Malfoys,” she said.  

“So – you’re saying that gifts are the way to a girl’s heart?” 

“No, Harry. You missed the point. Persistence. That’s how you win someone you love.” 

She popped a crouton from the salad into her mouth, swirled the wine in her glass, then tipped it up to swallow the remains. No sooner had she set her glass down that her boyfriend was stepping out of the fireplace, pulling her into his arms, and kissing her sweetly. She returned his kiss then backed away to dust off the soot that had settled in his hair and shoulders. That was when he noticed their guest. 

“Oh. Hullo, Potter.” Draco squinted his eyes and looked again. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

Harry looked down, having forgotten all about the apron. Then he scoffed, rolled his eyes, and wriggled his way out of it as quickly as possible. Ginny giggled and turned her head so he wouldn’t suspect that she had done it on purpose.  

Turning red, Harry started to explain, but Draco interrupted him, “Never mind, I don’t want to know.” He planted another wet kiss on his girlfriend’s lips. “Dinner smells good, and you know what I want for dessert.”  

Harry cleared his throat. Annoyed, Draco looked up at him and said, “You’re still here? She’s done talking with you. Now Floo your arse home.” 

Taking the not-too-subtle hint, Harry gathered his things. “Fine, I’ll go. Thank you, Ginny. I appreciate your time. I don’t know that it will help me much, but thanks all the same.” 

Still clinging to Draco, she said, “Anytime, Harry. Let me know how it goes with…what was her name again?”  

“Drusilla,” he reminded her. “Um, do you mind if I use the loo before I leave?” 

“Help yourself.” Once she and Draco were alone, he asked her, “What sort of advice did you give him? And who is Drusilla?” The couple set dinner on the table, and she gave him the quick version: Harry’s girl troubles, how Ginny knew she wanted Draco, and how the two of them had ended up together.  

Her boyfriend nodded in surprise. “Huh. I always figured he was gay.” She shushed him and slapped his arm lightly.  

When Harry rejoined them, Draco offered to walk him to the door. Ginny gave him a worried look, pleading with her eyes that he not repeat what he had just said about Harry’s sexuality. But she could see from his expression that he was making no such promises. As far as he was concerned, it was always open season on scar-headed wizards who thought they were God’s gift to the world. 

“Hey, Potter. Ginny just reminded me of something. Do you remember that night you were at my house during the war and Granger used that spell on you? You know, the one that made your face swell up so much that it made you even uglier than normal?”

Ginny cringed and interrupted, “Now, Draco, play nicely.” He winked at her and gave her a smile. 

Harry bristled at Draco’s insult. “How’d you know about that?” he asked, his face turning red.  

“Are you serious? It was classic Granger, pulling a spell like that out of thin air in the hopes that no one would recognize you.”  

Placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder, he leaned in close to his ear and spoke so quietly that Ginny wondered if she had heard him right: “I did know it was you.”

~The End~