It took her longer than normal to reach the pitch, as she kept pausing along the way to scoop up handfuls of freshly fallen snow to make into snowballs, which she then hurled as far away as possible, imagining that each and every one of them was a miniature version of Draco Malfoy’s head. When she finally got there, and was greeted by the quiet, icy silence of the snow-covered stadium, she felt relieved, as if she’d been holding her breath for far too long and was finally able to exhale.
She flopped straight back into the snow, gasping only slightly when the cold shocked her through her robe but despite the shock, she stayed where she was, thinking that it might help to cool her temper. Staring straight up at the grey sky, she wrestled the situation over and over in her mind. Didn’t he understand what she risked by simply being friends with him?
Remembering his last comment before he stormed off like the drama queen that he was, she jumped up again, and, scooping up a large bunch of snow, she scrunched another snow ball and was about to hurl it across the pitch when a voice spoke up behind her.
“I’ll be extremely disappointed if you’re not imagining that the snowball is Malfoy’s head.”
She whirled around, surprised, flinging the snow ball wildly as it slipped from her grip. It smashed against the stands a few feet away. A very bemused-looking Blaise Zabini was standing before her, his robe unfastened and his scarf trailing behind him, despite the frigid temperature.
“How did you know?” she asked, stupidly. After the bizarre way their encounter at All Hallows’ had ended, she was unsure of how to act around him, especially with the way that Malfoy seemed to be jealously guarding his territory whenever he was around. Blaise’s actions just didn’t seem to fit with anything that had happened up to now, and she wasn’t even certain if he had actually been leaning so suggestively, or if it was just her wildly active imagination reacting to some very wishful thinking.
“There’s only one person I know that can activate that particular decibel of rage from you, Weasley. I suppose he told you he expected you to attend the masquerade on Halloween,” he said, in that quiet, nonchalant way he had that made her heart flutter. So different from Malfoy’s pure arrogance, there was something a little bit more stately and refined about Blaise’s confidence. Now here was the type of person a girl wanted to ask her to a masquerade ball!
“Demanded my attendance, is more like,” Ginny grumbled, remembering the scene in the library a few minutes before. The unease of Blaise’s presence had distracted her for a few moments, but the swirl of emotions all came crashing back. “I understand that he thinks he’s being friendly and trying to do something nice – what teenage girl wouldn’t want to go with someone who is supposedly the most attractive boy in the whole school? But he doesn’t understand that going to something like that, with the people who are going to be there, is hardly my idea of a good time.”
He stared at her thoughtfully, as if he were turning her words over carefully in his mind. He wandered slowly over to the bench on the side of the pitch, and sat down. He glanced up at her with those deadly dark eyes and patted the seat next to him in invitation. Jolted, she hesitated for a minute before heading over and sitting down beside him. At least this way, she thought, he can’t look at me with those eyes.
“You know, Weasley, that this event isn’t exactly Malfoy’s idea of fun. Don’t get me wrong – Halloween used to be his favorite time of the year as it usually meant his family would return home for the holiday, but now it’s more of a stifling obligation,” Blaise explained.
“Then why is he so eager to subject me to the same thing?” Ginny cried, outraged. Of course! Malfoy never truly moved past everything that had happened, and he’s still trying to find ways to torture me, she thought immediately. Blaise turned to her, almost laughing at her sudden burst of anger.
“Because, silly girl, he thinks it might actually be bearable if you’re there with him,” he said. Ginny felt her heart drop as she digested his words and recalled the look of excitement in Malfoy’s eyes as he held the mask up to her face. He had seemed rather excited about it all, hadn’t he? And she had brushed it off rather harshly. She sighed.
“He just doesn’t understand what kind of position I put myself in at these types of events. I’ve just finally gotten most of the Slytherins – except Pansy, of course – off of my back. The last thing I need is for any of them – or their parents – to see me at that type of event, with Draco Malfoy, nonetheless! Can’t either of you see that it could even be dangerous for me?” she asked quietly, finally voicing a fear that had been growing in her ever since her run-in with the Death Eaters outside the restaurant a few nights ago.
“Malfoy’s not an idiot – well, he’s not as much of an idiot as he seems. I’m fairly sure the thought has crossed his mind, and he’s got it covered. He wouldn’t risk you in any way, I’m sure you’ve realized that by now,” Blaise said.
“What do you mean?” Ginny asked, frowning. Blaise glanced at her sideways, an eyebrow raised.
“Surely someone’s told you about Draco. We always say that he’s a dragon – when he finds his treasure, he hoards it to himself, jealously guarding it against anyone that would try to steal it and fiercely protective against anything that would threaten to harm it,” he explained. Ginny recalled Crabbe and Goyle explaining something similar to her back before the incident with Claire had even happened.
“What has that to do with me?” Ginny asked, fearing she already knew what absurd thing Blaise was going to say.
“Well, if I’m right, then it’s pretty obvious that you’ve become his treasure,” he said, with a smirk. It took every ounce of Ginny’s self control not to squirm with how incredibly uncomfortable that sentence made her, both because she hadn’t yet sorted out how she felt about Malfoy and because it was just… too much! Even a hopeless romantic like her couldn’t take that kind of declaration.
“I hardly think that’s the case. I’m just an amusement to him; once that wears off, I’m positive he’ll be done with me. And that is not enough of an assurance for me to risk going to that party,” Ginny said, abruptly cutting off all notions of dragons and treasures.
“Well, if you won’t come for him…” Blaise said, turning to meet her eyes, causing her heart to skip a beat, “…then maybe you’ll come for me? Save me from a night of endless boredom and inane conversation with girls trying to replace Cho?”
“If I go, Malfoy’ll think he won,” Ginny grumbled. Blaise threw his head back and laughed, the rich sound filling the empty pitch, amplifying the sound.
“Then we’ll surprise him. Between Crabbe, Goyle and myself, we’ll get you there without him noticing until it’s too late and you’re already there,” he offered conspiratorially.
“Well, now, that’s a plan I might be able to get behind,” Ginny said with a slow smile. She could hardly believe what had just happened in the space of twenty minutes – she’d just had the longest and most natural conversation with Blaise Zabini that she’d ever had; and the two of them were scheming to surprise that arrogant git. Relishing the thought of finally being able to catch him off guard for once, Ginny could now hardly wait for Halloween to come around.
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Halloween night…
“Weasley, I thought you would already be dressed by now!” Crabbe cried when Ginny stepped out of the back office of the Three Broomsticks, into the mostly empty dining room where he and Goyle were waiting.
“But I am ready. Let’s go,” she said, marching towards the door. Crabbe and Goyle glanced at each other before protesting in unison and rushing for the door, desperately trying to stop her from exiting.
“Weasley, I never knew you had such a good sense of humour! For, surely,” Goyle said, looking desperately back and forth between her and Crabbe, “that outfit is a joke.”
“I beg your pardon, it is absolutely nothing of the sort. What’s wrong with this? It’s the nicest set of dress robes that I own,” Ginny said, looking down at the periwinkle blue satin dress that had been her mother’s when she was still at Hogwarts and the school regularly hosted various balls and dances. Feeling a mix of wounded pride and frustration over their snobbery, she held her head up and glared at the pair of them. “I realize that they aren’t quite the designer quality you lot are used to, but they should be good enough for this.”
“Listen, Weasley, as I patiently try to remember that you’re just a poor little heathen and weren’t subjected to the torture of these annual overblown affairs,” Crabbe said, with a quick smile to quell any snide retorts from her over the ‘heathen’ remark. “While dress robes are absolutely the most suitable attire for ninety percent of our events, this affair is a bit beyond dress robes. You need a ball gown – anything less will be considered an insult to the hosts.”
“The last one who did wound up wandering around in Siberia thinking he was a polar bear for a few weeks before his wife was able to round him up and set him right,” Goyle said, sounding impressed.
“I haven’t got a ball gown, gentleman – I should have thought that would have been painfully obvious. If we don’t find a solution, all our scheming will have been a giant waste of time. Any suggestions?” Ginny snapped, her hands on her hips. Leave it to the boys – they’d been planning together for over a week, and never once had any of them mentioned this particular bit of information. Between her sewing skills and Rosemerta’s closet, she surely could have made something suitable in time.
“That would be why they made the wise choice to alert me of their plans,” a voice piped up from the doorway. Tonks was standing in the entrance, looking spectacular in a bright magenta gown and white fur cloak. Her hair – now a deep brown – was swept up and held in place with a few jeweled pins. If it hadn’t been for the unmistakable sarcasm in her voice, Ginny wouldn’t have been able to believe that the beautiful, elegant woman standing in front of her was the same woman. “I had a feeling they’d be no help in this area. It’s just too easy for men – beyond standard dress robes, the only they have to decide is the colour of their tie – black or white, depending on the occasion.”
“Here you are, coming to my rescue yet again Tonks! Are you able to lend me something suitable?” Ginny asked hopefully, staring at the garment bag she had slung over her shoulders. Despite herself, with all the plotting and planning that Blaise, Goyle and Crabbe had done in order to surprise Malfoy at his own event, she had actually been looking forward to it. Malfoy was so often cranky and serious that she really wanted to see him behaving like a little kid, excited and caught up in his favorite holiday. Halloween had long ago lost any kind of excitement for her, after all. It would be nice to see it through someone else’s eyes.
“Oh, my dear, have I got something for you!” Tonks said, her eyes lighting up with a mischievous gleam. “Narcissa will be spending her night trying to scope out exactly which perfect pure blood heiress she’ll want her only son to marry, so if you have any chance of making it through the ball without being Transfigured into a toad, you’re going to have to look like you’re one of them.”
“And how do you imagine we’ll go about doing that?” Ginny cried, completely certain that this was completely impossible.
“That’s the beauty of a masquerade ball, isn’t it?” she asked with a gleam in her eye. She held out a glossy wooden box and gestured for Ginny to take it. “Open it.”
Inside, nestled on a bed of red satin, was a stunning piece of jewelry that Ginny had trouble believing someone was supposed to wear on their face. It was made entirely of thin strands of gold, webbed together to form the shape of a mask. The almond-shaped eyes were defined by strands of gold braided together, and every part of it seemed to glow and sparkle. Taking a closer look, she realized that what she thought was glitter was actually a smattering of rubies, glowing warmly in the dim light of the restaurant. Looking up at Tonks, Ginny hardly knew what to say.
“I couldn’t possibly,” she breathed, her mind spinning with what she would do if any happened to something that clearly had more value than everything the Weasley family owned, combined between all of them.
“Of course you can. It was my first mask, you know,” Tonks said with a fond smile. She had a bit of a faraway look in her eye. “Met the first boy I fell in love with while wearing it, sneaking out the back door. So, of course you have to wear it. Hopefully it will bring you better luck than it brought us.”
“But won’t Mrs. Malfoy recognize it if I show up wearing it?” Ginny asked, concerned, even as she longed to snatch it up.
“Oh, honey, trust me – no one is going to be looking at your face once you see the dress I have in mind for you,” Tonks said, her eyes glinting mischievously.
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Considering what she was wearing, Ginny supposed she should have felt confident enough to take over the world. But standing in the darkened, empty hallway leading into the main ballroom of the Manor, she felt so unsure and uncomfortable in her attire, it was taking every ounce of her stubbornness to keep from turning around and bolting.
That was probably how that whole Cinderella nonsense had started, Ginny figured. You take a nice, poor girl, throw in a fairy godmother forcing her into yards and yards of heavy and expensive silk and uncomfortable glass slippers and send her all alone into a room full of the country’s most powerful and rich people – completely out of her element – and it’s hardly a wonder why she fled. She probably didn’t even make it through the door at all, and lost that fateful shoe running from the building as fast as she could as soon as she caught a glimpse of what was waiting for her on the other side of the door.
She could have killed them all for leaving her. Insisting that they had to assuage Malfoy’s inevitable foul temper, Crabbe, Goyle and Tonks had all scampered inside, leaving Ginny to fidget anxiously in the metres and metres of fabric Tonks had her swathed in. So, there she was, wearing more fabric than she’d ever worn before, feeling naked and insecure.
Tonks had really outdone herself, Ginny had to admit. When she’d pulled the gown out of the garment bag, Ginny had felt a little faint with the thought that Tonks actually expected her to wear it – let alone how she was going to get into it, but Tonks had succeeded in tackling her into the gown before she’d had a chance to protest. A beautiful, ruby-red colour, the gown was something the likes of which Ginny had never seen, except perhaps in the society pages of the Daily Prophet. The incredibly tight-fitting (and rib-crushing) bodice with a frighteningly low-cut sweetheart neckline, laced at the back, exploded at the waist in a sea of gathered satin. Ginny was pretty sure she was going to have trouble fitting through the massive doorways of the Malfoy Manor, due to the sheer volume of satin she had trailing around her in all directions.
Glancing down nervously at her bust-line, she sincerely hoped that Tonks’ charms would hold and the night would not end with any type of wardrobe malfunctions. Standing in the hall, she touched the cool metal of the magnificent mask that Tonks had insisted she wear. After she’d managed to halt the flurry of activity as Tonks tried get her ready long enough to take a close look at it, she had turned to glare at her benefactress, unable to believe what she was seeing.
“A weasel?” she had demanded, only realizing just now what the features of the mask reminded her of. Tonks had thrown her head back and laughed loudly.
“I guess it does look a little like a weasel, doesn’t it? But no, not at all. I suppose it was supposed to be a cat, but the artist didn’t quite get it right. I prefer to think of it as a fox. Come, don’t you think it’s quite fitting for you to dress as a cunning little vixen?” Tonks had asked.
After Tonks had finished with her, Ginny had stared at herself in the small mirror in Rosemerta’s office. Ginny had protested when Tonks had started to tease her hair, allowing her curls to run wild, afraid it looked far too messy. But staring at the full effect, combined with the dress, the mask and the heavy gold and ruby necklace Tonks had insisted she wear, Ginny was having trouble believing it was actually her reflection she was staring at, and that perhaps Tonks had just slipped a potion into her tea when she wasn’t looking to make her think that she could look that way.
Becoming impatient with hiding in the dark, Ginny made a decision that she couldn’t wait any longer and that it was time to go in and face her fears. Gathering her courage and ordering herself to stop being such a ninny about how she was dressed, as everyone else in the ballroom was dressed equally as ridiculous, she started to walk towards the entrance.
“Now, now, young lady. We can’t possibly have you wandering around unescorted. It’s not how we do things, you know,” a familiar voice said from behind her. Feeling instantly relieved, she turned to find Blaise Zabini, dressed in an immaculate set of white dress robes, setting off his dark colouring, wearing a brilliant coloured mask, all in hues of red and orange, perched on his nose. Relieve she was no longer about to face this alone, she smiled widely and held out her arm for him to take.
“If you’d been here earlier, there wouldn’t have been any cause for concern,” she said wryly, smoothing her skirts. She considered trying to hike up her bodice a little as a matter of security, but regardless of her friendship with Blaise Zabini, there were certain lines she had to draw. She chose instead to distract herself by commenting on his mask. “Hippogriff? How suitable.”
“Great beastly winged creature, am I?” he asked with a strange smile. “It was my father’s. I almost didn’t recognize you, all done up like that. Good thing I sent Tonks over there – I almost forgot that you’ve never been to this type of event before and might not be aware of the type of attire that’ll be expected.”
“It’s a very good thing you did. Wouldn’t want to cause a scene with all my heathen ways and embarrass you lot,” Ginny said with a smirk. Blaise turned to her, meeting her eyes.
“You look magnificent – you’re going to blow Malfoy away,” he said softly, sending chills down her spine.
“Well, that’s not really the purpose of this evening, now is it? We want to surprise him, shock him, baffle him, leave him gaping over our evil ingenuity and wondering how we had the gall to pull it off without his ever knowing or suspecting a thing,” Ginny said, uncomfortable with the inherent meaning in his words, that she was dressed up for Malfoy. Because, of course, that wasn’t at all why. It was entirely Tonks’ doing, that was all.
“You’ll do all of that, but you’re also going to dazzle him, just like you’ve dazzled me,” he said. Without giving her a moment to recover from the compliment that had her heart pounding in her chest, he lead her into the ballroom.
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Draco sighed, painfully bored by the conversation he was pretending to participate in. It was still fairly early, and so, none of his real friends had shown up yet. Growing more annoyed with each passing minute at the audacity of Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise to be so late to the Malfoy’s Annual Halloween Masquerade, he tried to distract himself by plotting suitable punishments for the insult.
He sent down his drink, and politely excused himself. The only good thing about the fact that his family was hosting the event was that it meant that he could wander effortlessly from conversation to conversation, using the excuse that he had to see to his other guests when he grew too frustrated by the inane topics of discussion. Raised to maintain a cordial yet distant demeanor towards those important yet less powerful than his family (which meant almost everyone), he was sick and tired of playing the charade of civility, and wanted his friends to arrive so he could start to enjoy himself.
And of course, he also had to spend the majority of his time dodging the various teenage girls that his parents’ colleagues kept throwing at him, eager to ensure their place in society by having their daughter marry the only male Malfoy heir, which didn’t do much to improve his mood. The orchestra had transitioned from the mellow tones of the background scores they played as guest arrived, and were starting to play music designed to encourage guests to start dancing. He wanted to make his way to an exit before any of the ambitious young pureblood princesses tried to ask him for a dance, and he’d be stuck making inane and polite conversation that would bore him even more, and solidify the certainty of the deaths of his best friends at his hands in vengeance for abandoning him to this fate.
Glancing around the room, hoping to spot his Slytherin friends, to his chagrin, he instead spotted his mother, sauntering towards him, escorting a familiar young lady with her. He gritted his teeth and tried to remember all the reasons why it was important for him to be civil to her as they approached, particularly as he recognized the girl she was marching over to him. Despite himself, he had to admit that she was stunning, in an ivory gown that seemed to make her skin glow and with her long dark hair falling loosely around her shoulders, framing her face.
“Draco, darling, look who I’ve found!” his mother said, her voice warm and cheerful. He tried not to shudder with the unnaturalness of it. “It’s Angelique Aristide! You two haven’t seen each other in ages.”
“It’s been a very long time,” Angelique said slowly in her careful English, her voice low as she stared at him with dark eyes. He stared for a moment, deciding how best to react to her presence. He tried not to remember all the golden summer afternoons he’d spent with her head resting in his lap as she tried to teach him how to properly conjugate French verbs, laughing as he strung horrifyingly incorrect sentences together. He had always been too easily distracted by her hair, unable to keep himself from running his fingers through it.
“It has. I hope you’ve been well,” he answered woodenly. He remembered the last time they’d spoken, and nearly had to bite his lip to quell the rage that accompanied that memory. It was too long ago, buried in the past, where he needed it to stay.
“Doesn’t she look wonderful tonight, darling? I was so delighted when I found out she was coming. I finally had the perfect person to give my old ball mask to. It looks stunning on her, doesn’t it?” Narcissa said. At that, his head snapped up and he studied Angelique’s appearance more thoroughly.
A leaden silence fell over the threesome as he was unable to speak, completely choking on his rage. She was wearing the butterfly mask, and now everyone around them was going to know Narcissa had given it to her.
Angelique, for her part, was staring at the floor, clearly uncomfortable and fully aware of the power struggle happening between mother and son.
“Hardly anyone has been dancing. Won’t you two help get things started?” Narcissa said, her hand resting on Draco’s arm in warning as she spoke, an edge in her voice. Without saying a word, he simply held out his hand to Angelique, who took it obligingly and followed as he led her out to the dancefloor.
The orchestra, seeing a new couple on the floor, started playing a waltz. Years of training took over, and he mindlessly stepped with his partner, and started leading. He’d grown up dancing at similar-type functions; he could practically waltz in his sleep.
“I’m terribly sorry about this, Draco. She’s been having tea with my mother again. She sent me the mask with a note asking me to wear it, and I couldn’t possibly say no, not to Narcissa Malfoy,” Angelique said softly. Draco just stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched tightly shut. “I tried to write you, to warn you what she had in mind, but you always send back my letters… and I didn’t really know what to say.”
“And now, with us dancing like this, with me wearing your mother’s famous mask, from her first masquerade when she met your father – who doesn’t know that famous story? I know what everyone’s going to think and say about this, and … just know that I didn’t plan any of this,” she said, glancing nervously over his shoulder at the audience their dance had attracted. “Draco, please say something!”
“It’s probably best if you don’t speak,” he said, his voice low yet so cold, Angelique flinched. Stiffening in his arms, she met his eyes and nodded slowly as they continued to dance.
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To Ginny’s intense relief, almost everyone in the ballroom was focused on the couple dancing some trumped up version of the waltz, and she walked in completely unnoticed. Amazed by everything that she was seeing, she’d barely been able to keep herself from wandering aimlessly through the room, eager to drink in all the wonderful things to see – from the marble floors and gilded, mirrored walls, to the amazing gowns the other girls were wearing. It was all stunning and beautiful, and it took every ounce of Ginny’s willpower to keep herself from wrenching free of Zabini’s grip and running home before they figured out that she was a horrible imposter, someone who would never belong at this type of event.
“Where to do you think Malfoy is?” she whispered to Zabini, as she had expected to find him holding court, surrounded by his group of Slytherins, similar to the thousand times she’d seen him in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. But she hadn’t been able to spot him since she’d walked in.
“In hiding, by this point, no doubt,” he answered. “We’re all hunted down by daughters of powerful men at these things, but he has it the worst, because his father is the most powerful of them all.”
“Have you ever seen a young couple so perfectly suited for each other? Their parents must be pleased,” an elderly witch said to her companion. Curious to see what the fuss over the couple dancing was all about, she stood up on her tiptoes, trying to see through the audience that had gathered at the edge of the dancefloor.
She caught a glimpse of a familiar tall figure with blond hair, dressed all in black, and knew at once, despite the mask on his face, that she’d located Malfoy. Smiling back at Blaise, she pushed her way forward, wanting to catch him action, dying to tease him over his expertise in ballroom dancing.
If she’d been asked to wager who his partner was, she would certainly have bet on Pansy Parkinson, but she noticed her a few feet away, dressed in a candy-floss pink dress with so much white lace, she looked more like a poodle than anything else, really; scowl deeply etched on her face. Surprised, she turned back to the two as they moved effortlessly across the dance floor.
His partner, in fact, was stunningly beautiful, wearing a simple ivory silk gown that fell like water over her tall, slim frame, moving fluidly around her as they danced. Ginny nervously smoothed her skirts, feeling ridiculous in the fancy ball gown Tonks had assured her was completely appropriate. More so than anything, it was how she moved that was so captivating, as every movement seemed so effortless and graceful. Malfoy’s dance partner was the picture of elegance, someone born to be watched and admired by a crowd of some of the most influential people in the wizarding world. Despite how elegantly Ginny herself was dressed, she knew she would never have that aura.
Feeling slightly foolish over their plan now that she was here, Ginny watched them and felt her face begin to burn. It was only when Ginny was able to catch a full glimpse of her face did she really begin to feel foolish. For his dance partner was wearing the beautiful, delicate butterfly mask that Malfoy had attempted to give to her.
“I may decide to stop chasing you,” he’d said, after she’d so brusquely rebuked him for having the gall to invite her to his family’s masquerade ball. Clearly, he’d found someone more suited to the mask in her absence – someone who was truly delicate, beautiful and elegant. Backing away from the dance floor, Ginny couldn’t help but think that he’d made good on his threat.
The intense anxiousness, which always preceeded an attack of her claustrophobia, suddenly welled up deep in her chest. She desperate needed some air, she thought wildly, as the room seemed to start spinning as the panic increased. Deftly glancing around her, she spotted an exit and made a run for it, Cinderella be damned.
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“Weasley? Are you out here?” Blaise called out. It hadn’t taken him long to find her there, Ginny thought ruefully. Of course, Blaise Zabini of all people would know all the quiet places to hide. She’d found a dimly lit courtyard, just off the ballroom, that had been charmed to stay warm even as it was lightly snowing. A few wizards were in a far corner, smoking cigars and discussing politics, but for the most part, it was completely secluded. “You’re missing the ball hiding out here.”
“I don’t think I can go back in there,” she confessed quietly. She’d recovered from the panic attack rather quickly, but it had left her feeling weak and shaky. “I knew this was a mistake. I don’t fit in with these people, and whenever I try, I end up feeling foolish and inadequate.”
“But that’s why he wants you there, Weasley. Because you’re nothing like any of them. He has so many duties and responsibilities at these silly events – as a host, you know, he has to chat with everyone, but has to be careful not to talk to any one person any longer or shorter than anyone else. And he also has to do things he hates, such as dancing with any number of girls that are thrown at him,” Blaise explained.
“Well, if he’s got all that to keep him busy, then what can I possibly do here?” she asked. “Trip over something so he can laugh at my clumsiness? I’m sure they’ll all find that oh so charming.”
Blaise leaned back on the stone railing they were standing beside, tipping his head back to look up at the sky. “I’m just going to get in the way, Zabini,” she said.
“That’s the problem I faced while I was with Cho,” he said. Surprised to hear him mention her name, as he hadn’t spoken about her at all since he’d been back, Ginny looked up at him in surprise.
“She was so busy, captaining her team, with practices and press conferences and matches, it was hard to spend any time with her at all. The more I tried to help out, the more I felt that I was simply in the way.”
“That’s why you came back here, then?” she asked softly.
“But it’s not that way for Malfoy. He wants you in the way. You should go back in there,” he said. “Well, after you’ve got a bit of colour back in your face – you’re looking a bit sickly, pale as you are, Weasley.”
“Thanks, that was most helpful,” she laughed. “Perhaps I should go in – at least to say hello. I did get all dressed up, after all.”
“Weasley, it’s best if you don’t mention anything about Angelique – that was who he was dancing with. It’s a bit of a touchy subject, and you know he can be.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“And we’re going to try to avoid Narcissa Malfoy all we can – she’s been desperately hunting for that red-headed strumpet who was photographed with him in the Daily Prophet, and hasn’t been able to put a name to the face yet.”
“Don’t suppose she would think it possible for her son to be consorting with a Weasley, that notoriously red-headed family?” Ginny said lightly. There was an unspoken warning in Blaise’s words and she wondered how her friendship with Malfoy had gone undetected for so long, considering how they were the subject of all the gossip at school. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen if the Malfoys knew.
“You’ve got a bit of colour back in your cheeks now. Time to get back in there,” Blaise said.
She started to move towards the door, but stopped when she realized he had stayed still. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Time to see if you’re capable of standing in that room all by yourself. You were magnificent at Cho’s party, but this is a much different crowd. If you can survive in there, you and Malfoy will have no trouble,” he said with a smile.
“Stop talking as if we’re some doomed couple, torn apart by family differences. We’re just friends, Malfoy and I. If we can attend the same ball with no one being cursed or needing a Mediwizard, then we’ll have no trouble truly being friends,” she said.
Blaise just looked at her, a disbelieving smile on his face, shaking his head in doubt. She shrugged, and walked back into the Manor.
It seemed to be at some kind of break in the festivities, as there were more and more couples lingering in the dark hallway heading out o the courtyard. Perhaps the dancing spectacle had finished. She hesitated at a narrow bend in the long hall back to the ballroom, composing herself, trying to imagine how it was all going to play out – she was going to saunter in there and be every bit as magnificent as the other girls (who’d actually been properly invited and not snuck in through the backdoor), even when she felt like cheap imposter.
A murmur echoed down the hall as a tall blond dressed all in black made his way down the corridor. Malfoy was walking towards the courtyard and he would have to walk past her to get out there. She stood still, anticipation welling up inside her chest. He was stopped a few times as friends of his parents congratulated him and complimented him on his dancing. He barely acknowledged them with a nod as he continued walking.
As he approached, he finally turned his gaze on Ginny, and she felt a jolt of surprise as he didn’t react at all to seeing her. Even as their eyes met, he just continued down the hall as if she wasn’t even there. She maneuvered slightly so as to give him ample room to negotiate past her skirt, and feeling adventurous, she even nodded at him in greeting as he approached.
She stepped past him, shocked that he hadn’t even realized it was her – he who noticed and perceived every little thing she didn’t want him to see. She was so wrapped up in her surprise that she very nearly yelped when an arm reached out, wrapping around her waist, guiding backwards down the hall and around the bend. He pulled her along with him, and when she nearly stumbled from the bulk of her skirts, he just hauled her closer to him, practically lifting her off the ground.
It only took a few seconds, but before she knew it, he’d maneuvered her down the hall and through a door, into a darkened, empty room, and had pressed her backwards until her back was against a wall.
He stared at her in silence as he heart began to race. She couldn’t make out his expression in the dark, but the scarce light caught his eyes in such a way that made her breath catch in her throat. He leaned in closer, so that his mouth was near her ear.
“I knew that the vixen dressed all in red couldn’t be anyone else but you,” he said softly, his breath tickling her ear.
“You were supposed to be surprised,” she answered back, her heart soaring at his words.
“More relieved that someone had come to save me from my misery. Pity you were too late to save me from the bloody waltz.”
“You looked rather as if you were enjoying it,” she muttered before she could stop herself. “The two of you made quite an elegant pair.”
He bent lower, meeting her eyes. Without even having to see his face, she knew he was smirking at her, pleased with himself.
“You sound a bit jealous, weasel. Careful now, or I might start to think you actually like me,” he said, his tone delighted. She could feel herself blushing, and even though she knew he couldn’t see her face in the dark, she turned her head to the side, to avoid his shrewd eyes.
He reached up and gently tilted her head back so she was facing him.
“I am the one who was jealous. There I was, stuck dancing with someone I particularly hate, when I could see you, experiencing your first Halloween ball on the arm of my best friend. It was almost unbearable,” he said, his voice so serious and soft that she almost fidgeted with how it unsettled her.
“How did you know it was me?” she asked, desperate to move the conversation away from that line of discussion. “I barely recognized my own reflection in the mirror.”
“Oh, little weasel, despite what they’ve done to you, dressing you up like a little peacock and sending you out to slaughter, you still look undeniably you,” he said with a smile. She digested his words, and as they sank in, she shoved him backwards.
“What do you mean, dressed up like a peacock? Do you have any idea the effort that went into just getting into this dress, Malfoy? Not to mention all the tearing and easing that went into this bloody hairstyle, and how uncomfortable this whole thing is! You should at least tell me I look pretty, even if you don’t mean it, out of courtesy for all the suffering I’m currently experiencing,” she exclaimed.
He pressed in close to her again, forcing her to look up at him.
“You certainly do make a pretty little red vixen, although I must say I would have preferred a butterfly. Or better still, a scrappy little weasel all covered in mud,” he said, taking her face in his hands.
“You and I both, I think,” she whispered before he kissed her softly. Knowing that she should push him away again quickly because it was too easy to get carried away as her pulse immediately began to throb in her throat, but it felt too good and her body told her common sense to be quiet as she reached her arms up around his neck, pulling him closer to her, becoming completely enthralled by the sensation as he deepened the kiss, obviously pleased by her uncharacteristic compliance.
“I know we aren’t supposed to do that anymore, being friends and all,” he said, after he’d broken away, burying his face into her neck as he kept his arms wrapped tightly around her.
“No, we aren’t. I forgot for a moment there, but now that you’ve reminded me, I’ll be sure to see that it never happens again,” she said, teasingly, smiling against his shoulder where she was resting her head.
“That is the last time I’m going to kiss you, Weasley, so I hope you enjoyed it,” he said, and she felt as if a shot of ice water had just entered her veins. She stiffened, shocked by the finality of his tone and how suddenly he’d said it, tearing her from the glowing warmth she felt as he held her tightly. “The next time you’re looking for a snog, you are going to have to be the one to make the first move, so I had to slip a good one in there, just in case that’s a long time away.”
“What’s brought this on?” she asked, finding her voice.
“Maybe if I stop chasing, you’ll stop running. Look, I know what it’s like to have decisions made for you and to be pressured into things you’re not ready for or that you don’t want, and to not know if you actually want something because you want it, or because it’s expected that you’ll want it. And I want you to truly want me.”
“So, you’re willing to just be friends?” she asked, incredulously. She suddenly felt awkward, as if she didn’t know how to be around him without fighting against him – either as his adversary or against his advances.
“I want you in my life – and for now, it doesn’t matter what capacity. I figure that you’ll eventually realize you’re madly in love with me and that we’re meant to be together, but you need to come to that conclusion yourself. Stubborn as you are, the more I push, the longer it’ll take. So, until then, we can be friends,” he explained.
“Seems rather risky, doesn’t it? I’ll be free to fall in love with someone else before I come to what you believe is an inevitable realization,” she said coyly.
“I get what I want, weasel,” he said, his eyes piercing hers in the dark. She felt an unbidden thrill run down her spine as he took her hands in his and stepped in closer. “And you are what I want.”
“And how I could possibly ever find someone who could compare to you?” she mocked, desperate to break the tension that hung in the air at his words. It was all just so… Malfoy of him to do this – to claim he was giving her time to figure out what she wanted, while stating with all assurances that there was no other option for her but to discover that she did want him.
“Now you’re thinking.”
“Well, you know, I could find someone where I wouldn’t have to crack a rib wearing a ridiculous ball just to spend Halloween with him and his friends… Or that isn’t a sworn enemy,” she said thoughtfully.
“No challenge in that, you’d be bored silly in three seconds. Now, enough of this – there is a party happening without us,” he said.
She groaned.
“You aren’t going to make me go out there and socialize with that lot, are you?” she asked, not looking forward to returning to the scrutinizing glances of his guests and the balancing act of avoiding meeting his mother.
“Of course not. It’s time for the after-party. Zabini and the other will be waiting for us,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her along with him.
Feeling almost euphoric, she followed along behind him happily, heedless of her gown as she brushed past others in the now-crowded hallway. The two of them were so caught up in the silliness of their attempt to make a stealthy exit, that they didn’t realize the stately woman standing at the entrance to the courtyard, watching them with narrowed eyes and pursed lips as they jostled past, laughing together.
Narcissa Malfoy was not impressed with that she saw. But she was barely concerned. She’d been able to squash a similar case with her niece, she was certain she’d be able to make history repeat itself.
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His friends were all smiling knowingly at each other when they stumbled into the private study, laughing at each other’s stupidity. High spirits were all around, it seemed, now that they were away from the crowds competing with each other to prove how impressive they were. For the first time, walking into that room as Malfoy’s friends stood up to greet her, exclaiming in surprise at how she looked, it actually felt like a proper Halloween celebration.
“Well well well, look at our little Weasley, all dressed up like a lady,” Crabbe exclaimed in surprise. “It’s a good thing Tonks shooed us away before you were ready – we’d never have let you leave without forcing you to put on a very large, very concealing sweater!”
Ginny was initially outraged by the comment, particularly as she was already rather self-conscious about the amount of décolletage she was displaying and now they were all staring freely at her breasts, but the brotherly sentiment that underpinned his words assuaged her temper. She settled with jabbing Malfoy with her elbow, catching him staring down at her in a decidedly un-brotherly-like way.
“You certainly do clean up nicely, Weasley. And would you look at that cleavage! I haven’t been able to stop staring at it since you walked in there tonight,” Goyle commented coyly. She felt her face flame with embarrassment as she glanced down at her chest, trying to reassure herself that they were just teasing, glancing up only when she realized that the boys had completely erupted into laughter as soon as she had. “I knew you’d look!”
“Oh, leave the girl alone. She’s had to put up with you lot ogling her this whole time. Surely someone should offer her a drink before you continue torturing her,” Tonks said, elbowing her way through the boys, handing Ginny a champagne flute. Ginny saw Malfoy about to protest, no doubt about to make some snarky comment about her low tolerance for alcohol, so she glared at him playfully and took a large gulp.
“Trying experience, these things are,” Tonks commented wryly.
“Stop hiding from your horrible husband up here,” Malfoy stated, glowering at her with his arms crossed. “My mother will be up here shortly, looking for you.”
“Or, worse still, the horrible husband might,” she answered back, rolling her eyes. “And you’re welcome, by the way, for all the assistance I gave your girl in getting here tonight.”
“She would have found a way. Cunning little vixen that she is,” he said, with a half smile. Ginny saw a look pass between the cousins and felt that something unsaid was passing between them.
“Well, off I go – I’ll try to save your party by making my presence known at theirs,” she said, with a long-suffering sigh. Ginny followed her towards the door.
“Tonks, again, thank you for everything tonight. Even though, by all rights, I should hate you for how ridiculous and uncomfortable I feel right now… But, I think, in the end, it was all worth it,” Ginny said.
“You look wonderful and I was very happy to see you in there,” Tonks said. A shadow of sadness, that Ginny could see even through the sparkling silver mask she was wearing, fell over her face and Tonks suddenly reached out, brushing Ginny’s face fondly. “It was nice to see that mask being worn again. Wore it on one of the best nights of my life. Enjoy yourself tonight, Ginny.”
With that, she sashayed out the door in a cloud of magenta couture. Ginny turned back around to see three of favorite Slytherins settling down to a game of wizarding chess. She took another sip of her champagne, and wandered over to sit with them. Malfoy was standing near the window, staring out at it rather sulkily.
“What’s that all about?” she asked Blaise Zabini under her breath, gesturing over to him.
“He’s always like this on Halloween,” he answered back.
“I thought it was his favorite holiday.”
“It is. You should see him at Christmas,” he answered. She frowned. Blaise patted her leg, trying to comfort her. “It’ll take a few minutes, but he’ll snap out of it.”
“I can’t believe Tonks lent you her mask. Well, I believe it, but with all that it means to her…” Crabbe commented as Goyle’s Queen smashed his rook.
“It was from her first ball?” Ginny asked.
“The first one that mattered. You see, Tonks and Draco’s mum have a few major differences – namely, Narcissa feels she’s completely inappropriate, says scandalous things and is therefore completely embarrassing to the family. It took a long time before Tonks was invited to family events. After she started Hogwarts, they had no choice, and she was allowed to attend,” Crabbe explained.
“Not that she stayed very long,” Goyle said. “Didn’t she sneak out after about an hour?”
“And that’s when she met him,” Crabbe said.
“Met who?” Ginny asked, intrigued. Tonks had mentioned she’d been wearing the mask the first time she met the first boy she’d fall in love with, and considering who she was married to, Ginny was curious to learn the history behind it.
“Don’t know you know the story? I didn’t think there were many who hadn’t heard it – much to Narcissa’s chagrin,” Blaise said.
“She met a guy from the village. He’d been a scholarship student and was working at the bookstore, from a little known and entirely powerless family. One of his best friends from school was at the ball and had asked him to meet up with him here, as he was planning on skipping out of the party early. Tonks had the same idea, and as she was scaling down the side of the wall – instead of Flooing or using a broomstick like any normal person, she slipped and he broke her fall – and his arm,” Crabbe explained.
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me about Tonks,” Ginny said, fondly. “But that’s not the man she married?”
“Well, no, of course not. He wasn’t from the right family, and Tonks was already considered a disgrace to the family,” Goyle said with a scoff. Ginny frowned at him, wondering if he’d forgotten who he was talking to. She was the exact definition of someone who “wasn’t from the right family” even if Malfoy seemed rather convinced they were suited to each other.
“You’re forgetting that he disappeared. Left town without at word to her or anyone else. Remember when that happened? She’s a tough girl – was always a bit of a bully to us when we were younger – but she was inconsolable after that. She barely protested when Narcissa decided she should marry Rookwood,” Blaise said quietly. They all sat in relative silence for a few minutes.
“Don’t know if things didn’t out for the better for Tonks,” Crabbe commented. “Yeah, she’s married to a man she detests, but she’s fabulously wealthy and he mostly doesn’t bother with what she does with her time.”
“How can you say that?” Ginny snapped, jumping out of her seat. “It may be hard for all of you to understand because of the way that you live your lives, but there are so many more important things than money or power or getting invited to fancy parties!”
She met Malfoy’s eyes; he was staring at her from across the room. She understood now, the look he’d exchanged with Tonks – he remembered, just as much as she must be, what had happened on this night so many years ago, and he’d been worried. It was just another piece of the puzzle that was Malfoy falling into place. She started to walk towards him, not quite sure why, but the look in his eyes was pulling at her.
But Blaise had also jumped out of his seat, grabbing her hand, pulling her around to look up at him.
“Come, now, Weasley. Challenge me to a game of Exploding Snap. I’m undefeated, you know,” Blaise said, pulling her away from Malfoy. She glanced back over her shoulder, but Malfoy had turned back around to glare pensively out the window.
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He was waiting for her, a few days later, after Quidditch practice. She was happily exhausted, sweaty and covered in mud due to a miscalculated Wronski Feint when she came walking off the field, dragging her broom behind her. Tired as she was, she felt exhilarated by the thrill of flying and the chill in the cold air felt pleasant against her warm cheeks. When he called out her name, she bounded over to him, full of details of the practice she wanted to relate.
“Looked like practice went quite well,” Blaise said, laughing as he reached out, wiping a smear of mud off of her face, then grimacing. “You’re filthy!”
“That’s how you know it was a good practice. I tumbled a bit when I went into a Wronski Feint and didn’t pull out in time. I’m getting better at them, but I still overdo it about one in every three times I try it,” she babbled, trying to quell the nervous butterflies that erupted when Blaise touched her face. It was a whole new realm of their friendship that she wasn’t quite prepared for.
“I was watching. You’re quite magnificent,” he said, as they started walking back towards the school. “What you lack in grace and coordination, you make up for in speed and determination.”
“I am a bit all over the place when I fly, aren’t I?” she said thoughtfully, feeling slightly stung by how he’d phrased his compliment. “What brought you down to the pitch?”
“I came to talk to you,” he said, and she started slightly in surprise.
There’d been an awkward moment after the Halloween ball, when they’d been sneaking her out. Blaise had gone ahead to ensure that Malfoy’s mother wasn’t lurking around any corners, while Malfoy had walked her outside, sneaking her out the back entrance and out into the garden.
“Ever wonder if we’ll be able to do this without you having to sneak me out the back door?” Ginny had sighed as Malfoy motioned for her to stand back as he glanced down the hall.
“And what exactly have we been doing?” he’d asked silkily, arching an eyebrow at her from over his shoulder. She had felt herself blush at his insinuating tone.
“You understand what I mean. Will we be able to act like friends without you having to sneak out the back way lest your family discover, to their horror, that you’re spending time with a girl of such ill-repute,” she’d said while jabbing him with her elbow.
“I should imagine that this mild inconvenience would be worth the risk in order to spend time with me,” he’d said, pulling her along. They’d very nearly reached the entrance to the street, and Ginny hadn’t brought a wrap with her, and the late October weather had started to make her shiver. Malfoy had stopped, turning to face her suddenly.
“What is it?”
“We can go through the main ballroom. Everyone will see you, everyone will know who you are and that you’re here with me. If you want to, we can go through that way,” he’d said, his eyes intense. Ginny hadn’t known what to make of this. Didn’t he know that this was exactly what she didn’t want?
“Of course not. Why should I subject myself to their scrutiny just because you have to?” she’d said, brushing off his offer. After a moment where he continued to stare at her, searching her face for something, he’d started to lead her onwards again, towards the street where Blaise was waiting with the carriage to take her home.
“Happy Halloween, Malfoy,” she’d said when they’d reached the street. Feeling spontaneous, she’d stood on her tiptoes and brushed his cheek with her lips. As she moved away, he caught her hand, his fingers stroking her skin for a lingering moment before he’d raised it to his lips. She’d barely been able to breath, the way he’d looked at her.
“Thank you for coming, weasel,” he had whispered. After she’d stumbled away from him, slightly bewitched by the moment that had just passed, she’d walked towards the waiting carriage, where Blaise had been standing. As she had passed by Blaise to get into the carriage, she’d noticed a strange look on his face. He’d followed after she’d climbed in, and even though she’d thanked him for all his help that night, he hadn’t said anything the rest of the night.
It had been weird and awkward the entire ten minute ride to her flat, as she’d struggled to make conversation. And after that, he’d been avoiding her in the hallways at school, refusing to say hello or really make eye contact. So, now that he was here, meeting her after Quidditch practice and wiping mud off her face, she was very confused about what she’d done, and why it was all suddenly better now.
“What did you want to talk about?” she asked, deftly avoiding a large patch of slush as they trudged through the snow. “Seems rather formal, coming all the way down here and waiting in the cold through practice.”
“It’s about the story we told you the other night, about Tonks. I didn’t tell you everything, because I know Draco wouldn’t have liked it,” he said. “He was already pretty angry that we brought it up, but… you should know about it.”
“What could you have possible left out? It was quite a terrible tale as it was!” Ginny exclaimed, remembering the story with a shudder.
“He didn’t leave her. He disappeared and nobody knows what happened to him,” he said quietly. Ginny stopped in her tracks, looking up at him in surprise. “They met when she was sixteen, and Narcissa didn’t find out about their relationship for years. But after she did find out, she did everything she could to separate them.”
“And how did she do that?” she said, feeling his words slam into her stomach as if she’d been physically struck.
“Remember, this was during the Dark Lord’s rise to power, so it was fairly easy to stamp out anyone who was thought to be resisting,” Blaise said, his voice low. “Unfortunately for Tonks, she fell in love with someone who was actually resisting, and who was best friends with a member of her family who defected to the other side. It was quite easy for her to do horrible things to convince the two of them to stay away from each other.”
“And they fought,” Ginny said, knowing with certainty. She’d seen it in Tonks’ eyes that night, the way she’d looked so sadly at Ginny, wearing her ball mask.
“She moved out, went to stay with him, determined that they would stay together no matter what Narcissa threw at them. He kept trying to convince her to go back, to forget about him, that it was just too dangerous, but Tonks… well, she believed that they were strong enough. Even when their friends and his family members started to disappear,” Blaise said. “But then she came home one day to find the Dark Mark over their flat, and never saw him again.”
Ginny stopped walking, turning away from Blaise, needing a moment to gather that information together. Shuddering with the memory of seeing the Dark Mark over her own house and worrying desperately for those she loved, she struggled to collect herself.
“Ginny,” Blaise said, and she distantly thought that it was strange to hear him call her by her first name, “I didn’t want to tell you this, and I know that Malfoy will be furious when he finds out, but you need to know. If things carry on with you and Malfoy, there are the risks you’ll be taking.”
“What happened to all that dragon nonsense you told me about, trying to convince me to come to the ball despite the risk?” she challenged, surprised by his sudden about-face. He stepped toward her, staring down at her as he reached out, placing his hand on her shoulder as he leaned in.
“Other students, even most of the Death Eaters out there, Malfoy can handle without any trouble. They’re uncreative – they’d go after you, and you alone, and there’s no way they’d get close enough to you to even do any harm. But Narcissa… she’d strike where it would hurt the most and not a hair on your head would even be mussed. I want you to have all the facts before anything serious happens with Malfoy,” he said softly.
“And you think that this would scare me away from him?” she asked furiously, shrugging off his hand. “You’ve obviously missed all the events of the past couple months, living there in your head as you always seem to be doing. He’s turned an entire school population loose on me, he’s practically had me killed via the Whomping Willow, the sister of someone he nearly killed nearly killed me as some sort of twisted revenge, and you think I’m going to be scared away by his nasty mum? Have you met me before?”
“You’re honestly not concerned that she’ll do the same thing to you?” Blaise demanded.
“She might; but Malfoy and I are just friends.”
“I just want you to be careful.”
“You have nothing to worry about! I can take care of myself – well, for the most part,” she said, gripping her broomstick tightly, trying to steel herself. Blaise sighed, shaking his head. He reached out, again trying to wipe off the mud from her face.
“I would hate to see anything happen to you because of Malfoy,” he said softly, leaning down to look her directly in the eye. She drew back slightly, her pulse racing suddenly. “You’re really quite a surprising girl, Weasley. I wonder why I never saw it sooner.”
“All the mud I’m usually covered in tends to hide it, I guess… or there was the time with the Bubotubber pus,” she said wryly, trying not to remember that embarrassing incident. There was a look in Blaise’s eyes that was incredibly unsettling though, and it seemed as if he wanted to say something else, but he was interrupted before he could.
“Zabini! There you are!” a voice called out. She turned to see Malfoy marching towards them. “Oh, and you found the weasel! Perfect!”
“What’s the plan for tonight, Malfoy?” Blaise asked, as the group joined them. Malfoy walked up to Ginny, throwing a friendly arm around her shoulder.
“Well, first, we’re going to get this one a shower,” he said with a pointed look at Ginny. “Pulled out too late on your Wronski Feint again, didn’t you? And after that, we’re heading to the Three Broomsticks for a drink. Coming Weasley?”
“Well, yes, as I have a shift tonight. I’ll see you there – and you’d better be on your best behavior, because I won’t hesitate to throw out any unruly patrons,” she said, shrugging his arm off her shoulder. She risked a glance at Blaise, but he was avoiding her eyes. “I’ll see you lot there.”
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It was late when she reached her flat, and she was deliciously exhausted. She kicked off her boots, threw off her cloak and tossed her books aside. As she lit a candle, Ginny considered her homework, but then decided that it was far too much effort for that moment – she’d just wake up early the next morning to take care of the most important assignments.
She was about to stumble into the washroom to brush her teeth when she noticed a something strange in the reflection in the mirror hanging over her dresser. Heart pounding in her chest, she slowly turned, her eyes scanning her sparsely furnished flat before she spotted a strange woman sitting at her desk.
“You’ve kept me waiting, Miss Weasley. My son has been keeping you out rather late,” a cool voice said. Meeting the icy grey eyes, Ginny was fairly certain this it was Narcissa Malfoy who had broken into her flat.
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A/N: Whew, it's been far too long! Believe or not, I had the worst case of writers' block which centered entirely on the fact that I couldn't decide what type of ballgown I wanted Ginny to wear (thank a Google image search for providing proper inspiration).
From HYD:
- While I don't believe that this masquerade ball or 99 of the events that occur at it were entirely my own invention - it's been awhile since I've seen HYD, so it's possible that pieces of it came from that, but it all happens so differently in my story. We're on a bit of a tangent away from HYD plot, and will be intersecting it again, shortly. In any case, if there is something from HYD in that line, it wasn't done consciously.
- Tonks' backstory is based on her HYD counterpart's, in that she was in love with someone thought unsuitable for the family, and was "convinced" to give him up and marry the family-approved guy (who is horrible).
- You've met Angelique Aristide once before, and she's also been mentioned a few times, here and there.
Next chapter sooner than last time, I hope. Thanks for reading.
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