Chapter 23- New Year's Eve

Chapter 23- New Year's Eve

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Outside Arthur Weasley's workshop, light snow began to fall. Inside, two girls stared at each other and at the Polyjuice Maximus flagons in their hands.

Blaise asked, "Do you really think I can pull this off?"

"Of course. Remember what happened before. People see what they expect to see. It's only for four hours. I'll meet you back here right after midnight, and you can go see Terry." Ginny took a deep breath. "This means a lot to me. I don't know how to..." She smiled a little. "Anyway, what should I wear?"

Relieved that gushy sentiment remained unspoken, Blaise grinned. "Anything you want. That's part of the fun. Mi casa es su casa and all that...just...."

"What?"

Now it was Blaise's turn to take a deep breath. "Wait until after midnight to kiss Draco, okay? We're friends. I don't want any weird 'he's kissed me' vibes. Our love god's already promised—that's the only reason Terry is okay with this—so I'm asking for your promise too."

Ginny said, "I wouldn't want you kissing anyone with my lips either, so sure, I promise to be good, although it's going to be hard."

The girls giggled, and then grimaced together as they unstoppered the flagons, and each added the other's hair.

Recklessly, Blaise chugged the disgusting, sour-smelling liquid. She bent over upon feeling the gut-wrenching, shifting sensation. Panting, she straightened and looked up into...her face. Big dark eyes and full red lips grinned wickedly at her. She was even more gorgeous than she had thought. No wonder Terry couldn't resist her!

A swathe of fiery tresses fell over her shoulder. Blaise raised a hand and brushed it away, then laughed and started running her fingers through it before tossing 'her' hair. "Oh my gods, you've got the coolest hair!"

Smirking, Ginny drawled, "Play with it all you like, but if you cut it, you die."

Tilting her head from side to side so she could feel her hair swish and bounce, Blaise did a little happy dance and then stopped and looked at Ginny in horror. "Where'd my natural rhythm go? It’s like I'm fighting stiff white girl impulses when I try to move my body!"

Her double did a stretch, shake motion and grinned. "Look at me! I'm a Slytherin sex goddess!"

The girl now looking Gryffindor smiled at the 'Slytherin' who seemed as thrilled to be able to wind as she'd been to play with long girly-hair. Reminding Ginny to call Enrique "Papa or Father" and her mother "Eddy", and not to strew clothes on the floor because the house-elves expected her to be tidy, Blaise wished her friend luck and watched her floo to the Zabini London home.

Blaise didn't envy Ginny for getting to attend a posh New Year's party. She'd rather spend a few hours pretending to be a normal girl with a normal family. Temporarily pale pink lips curved as Blaise left the workshop and headed toward the house.

The continued awkwardness was bothersome. Looking down at her shorter, but attractive new form clad in a black turtleneck—a cashmere one bought yesterday since the thought of polyester blend gave her the shudders—she wondered if Ginny felt self-conscious about being curvy. She would have to work on that. Blaise swayed side to side and smiled when she felt 'her' body begin to loosen.

"What are you doing, Ginny?"

Shite, Ron was staring at her from the back door with a scowl on his face...and she couldn't smile suggestively, smirk, or wink at him. How in the world was she supposed to react? Blaise closed her eyes briefly while saying to herself, you're a good Gryffindor girl who loves her brother, even though he's a git...what do you say? She opened her eyes. "Nothing."

"Oh." The freckled brow creased in consternation. "I thought you were trying to dance like Zabini or something. I hope you don't start acting like her, giving blokes ideas."

Blaise said innocently as she could, "What kind of ideas?" His face reddened. She smiled. They were naughty ideas, eh? Aw, Mr. Freckles thought she was sexy, how sweet. Feeling charitable, Blaise let the topic go and went inside, although she couldn't prevent herself from ruffling his hair when she passed by.

Ron laughed, so the teasing must have been something he was used to from his sister.

In the kitchen, Molly Weasley bustled about preparing dinner. Seeing her 'daughter', the woman smiled. "Give us a hand, Ginny?"

"Sure. Tell me what to do."

Now Ron and his mother were staring. Did Ginny usually not help? Luckily, the lanky Gryffindor joked, "Must be a New Year's resolution, Mum."

"Yes, and it might only last until tomorrow, so make the most of it." Her cheeky retort seemed to put the pair at ease. It took less effort than Blaise would've thought to return Ron's affectionate smile. She watched him leave the room before turning to Molly. "Do you want me to conjure anything?"

"Oh no, dear, no, that's quite all right. If you could just set the table, that'd be marvellous."

Blaise did as she was asked; thankful the Weasleys had open shelving. The wizard's hats she made out of the serviettes got a strange look, as did her quick centrepiece made from a bowl of apples surrounded by greenery, the radish rosettes she garnished the salad with, and the candles she arranged and lit to softly illuminate the long table. Otherwise, her 'mother' was pleased with her help. At least, she thought the faint, 'th-thank you d-dear' meant the woman was pleased.

Mr. Weasley came in carrying a bottle of champagne. He stopped and stared at the table before raising a red brow. "All this fuss just for family?"

"Nobody's more special than you, Dad." Where that had come from, Blaise didn't know. Must be some sort of residual Ginny-ness that came with the body. The head of the Weasley family smiled brightly and kissed her cheek, so he liked it.

The rest of the clan and Potter filed in, giving the decorated table no more than brief, amused glances. She sat between Ron and Potty...no, Harry, must remember to call Wonder-Boy Harry...  Blaise gazed curiously at the dishes that floated down the table before taking a spoonful from each one.

Fred and George sat across from her. They slanted impish looks towards each other.

"Is Ginny's top cashmere, Fred?"

"I do believe it is, George. Baby sister's getting expensive tastes from her posh friend."

Interestingly, raising a Weasley red eyebrow felt just as natural as arching a Zabini black one. Curving her deceptively sweet lips, Blaise said, "Do you boys really want to talk about profiting from a connection to Zabini Jewellers?" Her knowing look stopped the twosome in their tracks.

They retreated gracefully.

"I just meant you looked lovely, darling sister."

"Yeah, me too, Fred. Posh looks good on her."

"Well, rich doesn't mean happy."

The most attractive brother had spoken. Of course, Blaise might have been a bit prejudiced, since Bill reminded her of Terry.

He continued, "We had a surveillance update meeting, and the operative doing random checks on Enrique Zabini says he chose a union dispute at a Goblin mine over spending Christmas with his family. So don't envy your friend, Ginny. She doesn't have anything money can't buy."

Deciding that Bill's appeal was overrated and she wished she hadn't allowed her fingers to play with his pony-tail when he passed by earlier, Blaise stared down at her plate and pushed a bite of Yorkshire pudding around with her fork.

Charlie, the brother who did something with dragons in Romania, said smilingly, "If she has good friends like you, baby sister, she's got a lot."

Happy that she'd stroked that one's hair, the girl he thought was his sister smiled back. She did have good friends, and even if her parents weren't Wonderful Weasleys, they were her parents, damn it, and she was rather fond of them and the things money could buy, thank-you-very-much.

Stacking dirty dishes in the sink for Ron to clean, she avoided his probing stare.

"Why are you helping me? Another resolution?"

"No. It's the full moon."

Ron glanced uneasily at the window. If he went outside to check the moon, Blaise was going to lose it. Finally, he smiled uncertainly before narrowing his eyes and grinning evilly. She almost hexed his arse when he grabbed her and put her in bizarre hold where his arm, wrapped around with the forearm under her chin, held her back against his chest. Only the thought that perhaps this was some strange sibling ritual kept her from stinging Ronnie-Boy. The calloused fingers she had refused to remember tickled her sides. Weasleys were extremely ticklish. She started shrieking with laughter and squirming.

"What's going on?"

"Is she going to wet her pants like she used to?"

Fred and George's avid questions caused her tormentor to loosen his grip, allowing her to dart away to safety.

Entering the lounge, she saw that Harry and Charlie were playing wizard chess. Blaise thought the game was a bore, although she had memorised several famous wizard strategies to use when Draco wanted a match. She had always received more amusement from his facial expressions than the yawn-inspiring game.

Blaise observed Potter closely for a few moments, trying to figure out what her pal Luna found so bloody attractive about the boy. The hair was hopeless, the glasses owlish, the scar...that was cool...and the eyes...now staring at her...were really, really, green. Maybe the intense eyes did it. Giving Harry a weak smile, she went to sit beside her 'father' on the sofa. The last thing she wanted to do was encourage Potter's attentions to Ginny!

"The boys want to play skittles, so I'm off to fetch the one I repaired from my workshop. Sweetheart, would you care to give your old dad some company?"

Mr. Weasley was the nicest man. It was fun to pretend to be his daughter. She nodded and grabbed a cloak off the peg by the back door.

"Thank you, dear."

Crap. She had taken his cloak. Handing it over and noticing one that looked a bit shorter than the others did, Blaise snatched it and smiled when the cheerful father opened the door without comment and gestured for her to precede him outside. When he mentioned how pleased her 'mother' was that she'd made the effort to help tonight, she felt all warm and fuzzy inside. It was awkward and brilliant at the same time.

On a bench in the workshop, Arthur picked up a skittle that he'd repaired, chuckling and telling her the story of the twins' cheating with a iron disc charmed to look like the cheese and how it had broken the skittle in half.

Smiling, she agreed that he should do a counter charm on every wheel of cheese from now on—all the while wondering why someone would throw cheese at little wooden pins. After they'd returned to the house, everyone but Mrs. Weasley went down to the basement, where a long alley was set up with skittle pins standing in a formation at the end. Reflexively, Blaise took the pin from Mr. Weasley and headed down to replace it.

The boys cheered. "Hurrah! Ginny volunteers to be sticker!"

Apparently, the sticker was the person who stands at the end of the alley and sets the nine pins back up and returned the cheese to the person who hurled it. She could do that. The game was interesting, and the terminology humorous. The 'cheese' was shaped like a wheel of one, but made of some tropical hardwood. The positions of the pins left after a throw were described by names like London Bridge, Gates of Hell, and The Big Bog.

Blaise got a kick out of calling "Feet!" when she rolled the cheese back to the thrower a bit too hard and it jumped out the alley and headed toward a bystander. After she had accidentally done it a dozen times, knocked over three beers, a bowl of crisps, and whacked Potter's shins twice, the boys threatened her with bodily harm.

Watching Harry throw a cheese which passed through all the pins without knocking any over, Blaise cheerfully shouted, "Bollocks!" with the rest before stating that her indentured servitude was over and she was escaping to go help 'Mum'.

Jeers from the men followed her upstairs.

In the kitchen, Molly was setting an array of desserts out on the table. An Orpheus Orb played a song that never in a million years would Blaise have figured a Weasley favourite. Smiling as she watched the well-rounded woman sway to 'Dancing Queen', the girl moved into the kitchen and started dancing by her 'mother.'

Molly watched her movements. “I remember that!"

Together, they side stepped, cross-stepped, side stepped, touched one foot to the other and clapped. Side by side, they moved back and forth several times before dancing free form around the kitchen. Laughing and impressed with the older woman's moves, Blaise was doing the bump with Molly when the boys trooped into the room.

Six male jaws dropped in shock.

The Slytherin in Gryffindor skin admired the mother's composure as she acted as though they had been merely having a chat, saying briskly, "Come along and have dessert. Midnight's only a half-hour away!"

Instead of taking her bowl of trifle into the lounge with the others, Blaise ate a bite, set the dish down, and wandered upstairs to find Ginny's room. She looked through the other girl's wardrobe and frowned.

"She's in here, George."

The twins entered the room.

Fred leaned against the shut door. He questioned with narrowed eyes, "Who are you and what have you done with our sister?"

Blaise stared in shock. In the name of Merlin, how did they know? She looked into the mirror—the potion hadn't worn off, no brown curls were peeking through red tresses or anything.

George put his bright head close to hers. "Making the table pretty, helping out, being nice, sticking, and dancing with Mum to music you always complain about. Confess! Aliens put a pod in the room last night and when Ginny went to sleep you replaced her...pod sister!"

Oh my gods, this was awful! About to babble all, she noticed the boys' shoulders were shaking with repressed mirth. They had been having her on! Too relieved to be angry, Blaise gently pushed her ‘brother’s’ hair out of his eyes. She drawled, "You're so clever, George. I hope you don't go to sleep tonight, because I'd miss you if a fellow pod took your place."

The brief look of alarm in his eyes made her giggle.

Fred burst into delighted laughter. "You should've seen your face, brother! Afraid of pods, now, are you? I told you not to read that Body Snatcher book."

His ‘sister’ raised a red eyebrow and said ominously, "Don't laugh, Fred. My people have their eye on you too...for experiments."

Her 'brother' was incorrigible. His face lit up. "Crikey! D'you think they'd be sexual ones, with beautiful alien girls?"

She pulled Fred's hair and then smoothed it back. She couldn't help it, the lure of Weasley hair was irresistible. Over the last hours, every family member's bright strands had passed through her fingers. Ginny and Bill's locks were the silkiest, and the parents, Charlie and the Twins' strands very nice too, but Mr. Freckles' hair had the most interesting texture.

Following the boys back down into the lounge, she noticed Ron sitting in a chair, frowning and rubbing his forehead. Blaise asked, "Headache?"

He nodded.

She smiled and leaned over the back of the chair, massaging his scalp in the way Drinky had once showed her relieved tension. She felt a bit pervy for enjoying the feel of his hair so much—especially when he began moaning how good it felt—but Blaise rationalised that it was a sister's duty and happily delved her fingers back into that incredible red hair.

At midnight, the twins lit off fireworks and the family all kissed each other. Blaise enjoyed all the affection, until Potter stood looking at her with an alarming gleam in his eye. Panicking, she decided to head the boy off and quickly gave him a closed mouth peck on the lips, said, "Happy New Year, Harry," and bolted toward the workshop.

Scrubbing her lips with the back of her hand, Blaise ranted inwardly, Oh my gods, first Creevey, then Weasley, and now I've kissed Harry-Bloody-Potter! Damned Gryffindors...who's next, Longbottom? Aaahhh! Must go snog Terry and forget trauma ever happened!

The potion had worn off for quite a few minutes by the time Ginny arrived back. Trading clothes, Blaise complimented the other girl on her choice of dress and then stared at the necklace around her neck.

Pale fingers removed the gold torque set with teardrops of amber and gave it back to its owner. "I hope you don't mind my borrowing your Christmas present from Draco."

Soft-brown eyes filled with nothing but starry memories reassured darker ones that Ginny saw the necklace as only that—a necklace. Lips curving in relief, Blaise waved it off and told her friend a few highlights of the evening. Red laughed at the 'pod sister' episode, and snickered at the Potter peck. She said the party was 'amazing.'

The Slytherin and Gryffindor stared at each other for a moment in silence after Blaise grabbed Floo powder. Rolling her eyes, Ginny moved forward and hugged the other girl. Blaise returned it, said, "Yeah, Happy New Year to you too," and left, smiling.

 


 

All day long on New Year's Eve, a song called Anticipation kept running through Ginny's head. Her mum had been spinning an orb while making breakfast and the words of that song were haunting. Looking into her mirror that afternoon as she straightened up her room, because Mum always insisted the family start the New Year with a clean and neat home—not that it lasted long—Ginny sang, "I was thinking about how right tonight might be."

"Merlin's toenails, Fred! I think there's a dying weasel in our sister's room. I hear it yowling in agony!"

"You're right, George. There's nothing to do but find it and put it out of its misery. Really, a mercy killing is the kindest thing now."

The door burst open and the twins rushed in. They looked around for the ‘dying animal’ before grinning like the loons they were. Sneering at them, Ginny tossed her red hair and a hairbrush, which hit Fred's shoulder.

He cried, "Ow! I'm telling Mum you hit me!"

"Go ahead. I'll tell her how you crushed my tender feelings and you'll be peeling potatoes...the Muggle way!"

The three grinned at each other. This old routine only varied in what was dying, what was thrown and what was threatened.

Traipsing downstairs after the boys, she halted on the steps when Harry called down, "Ginny, can I talk to you for a moment?"

She didn't know. Could he? Sighing, Ginny trudged up to Ron's floor and sat on her brother's bed while Harry stood by the window. The Boy-Who-Never-Heard-Of-A-Hair-Styling-Charm ran a hand over his unruly hair, but it stuck out in all directions as usual. It was hard to believe she had once found his nervous habit adorable. Now it was irritating. How he could face down the Dark Lord but still be unable to look a girl in the eye was a mystery she didn't care to solve. She'd gladly leave it to Luna, if the other girl still wanted to take the time and effort. Lately, the Gryffindor had noticed a Ravenclaw boy circling around the otherworldly blonde.

Ginny herself would take a definite over a maybe any day. Who knew what Luna would do, although...if her friend asked her opinion...

"Ginny?"

Emerald green eyes were gazing intently at her. Why was that so alarming? She tried to look attentive—tilted her head slightly and widened her eyes a bit. The boy remained silent, although his brow lined so much she could practically see the wheels turning in his mind. Had Ron got that habit from him, or had her brother rubbed off on his friend?

Either way, it was rather sad. Hanging round people who were quick-witted and liked banter just as much as she did had spoilt her. Made her other friends seem slow and dull by comparison. She said, "Yes, Harry?"

"Uh, Ginny...I...er...wondered... May I ask you something?"

Her stomach felt like she'd fallen off her broomstick again with no Draco to catch her. Harry was blushing slightly and his hand was doing that nervous, futile grooming thing again.

Oh shite, oh no, no, no don't ask, don't ask.

"What?"

Why did I ask? I don't want to know!

"How do you know if you like someone? I mean...really like someone?"

That wasn't so bad. He just wanted a girl with actual boy/girl experience to give him her opinion, right? She thought about Draco and answered, "They make you happy and you want to make them happy. You can't keep your hands off them, but if you could only look into their eyes and see them smile at you, it would be enough. Does that help?"

Harry shook his head. "What about friendship? If you like someone as a friend, wouldn't you like them as a girlfriend?"

"No." Trying to smile, Ginny was aware it looked more like a grimace. Now she knew why Harry wanted to 'talk'. He was trying to convince himself that he could make a girlfriend out of a friend. Well, if the friend was her, no, he couldn't.

He stepped toward her.

She wanted to make a break for the door, but forced herself to stay put. "If your friend doesn't make your heart beat faster, Harry, it won't work. You can't just like someone's personality. There has to be chemistry and you can't force it. Really, you can't."

"What if you don't know if they'd make your heart beat faster because you've never kissed them? Don't you think you should kiss them? Like this?"

Frozen in place, Ginny's brain shrieked at her to turn her head, faint, vomit, something, but she just sat and watched Harry's face come closer as he sat beside her on the bed, turned her face to his, and kissed her.

Maybe the girl she'd once been lived on in some corner of her mind and demanded she prove to the former Potter groupie that kissing Harry wasn't the most exciting thing she'd ever felt. If so, then allowing his lips to touch and move tentatively against hers should kill or at least shut the little annoyance up forever.

Because it wasn't exciting, and her heart didn't race.

She felt detached, noticing that his lips were nice, but not...Draco's. His hands resting on her shoulders didn't make fire streak through her veins or make her to want to push him down and snog him until they both gasped for breath. In fact, she was starting to feel trapped, suffocated. Her eyes never closed. His opened and stared into hers. Harry's lips twitched. His shoulders started to shake. Suddenly, he threw himself back on the bed and covered his face.

She felt horrible. Her passive rejection had crushed him. What could she say? "Harry...are...are you all right?"

The hands lowered—he was laughing! Harry loosed the mirth he'd been repressing in gales of amusement. She couldn't help but smile, although she was a bit miffed. Draco would've been upset if she didn't respond...but perhaps that was the whole point.

Harry was gasping through his chuckles, "That...was...almost...as bad...as...kissing Cho!"

"Kissing Cho Chang was bad?"

Green eyes looked wryly into hers. "Yeah. She was crying the whole time. It was wet and...gross. I kept thinking about her nose running and it really ruined the mood. My heart was racing before the kiss, and hardly at all during or after it. I guess I should've known right then that we weren't going to get together."

"Yeah."

Ron entered the room. "What's going on?"

Ginny felt sorry for her brother, who looked hopefully from his sister to his friend. He was always trying to set them up. Keep Harry in the family, she guessed. Her brother would have to be satisfied with friendship, because no way was his best mate becoming The-Boy-Who-Married-A-Weasley.

Standing, she said, "I hope our chat's helped, Harry. Good luck."

Ginny walked out the door, hearing her friend, who she was relieved would no longer try to be otherwise, say, "Thanks. I'll remember...and I hope you take your own advice."

Smirking, she answered over her shoulder, "Don't you worry about me, Harry. I may have problems, but that's not one of them."

 

Later, Ginny's immediate problem was trying to force down Polyjuice Maximus. The glop looked and smelled nasty. Blaise gave her a mocking look and hastily downed the stuff. Not about to let anyone claim to be bolder than a Gryffindor, Ginny drank hers too.

The liquid seemed to run through her veins, twisting her insides and melting her body before reshaping her form into something taller, leaner, and incredibly different. Opening her eyes, Ginny looked at her hands. They were elegantly slender and honey coloured instead of pale and slightly freckled. Looking up, she stared...at herself. She had even more freckles than she'd thought. No way did Draco give her a kiss for each one. She was going to demand he give her the rest as soon as possible!

Blaise was having a good time playing with 'her' hair. She could knock herself out as long as she didn't cut it. Experimenting with her own new body, Ginny did a move that she'd seen the Slytherin girls doing on the steps before Blaise had given Harry a V—not for Victory. Oh my gods, she could do it! She was able to wind up and down like a snake and shake things she'd never even thought of trying before.

The other girl wasn't so lucky. Ha, ha, welcome to my white world, Zabini. This was fun. Maybe she'd ask for a few dance lessons when they got back to school. The Gryffindor-looking Slytherin was glaring at her. Ginny was amused. Did she really look that intimidating? No wonder some of the boys she'd dated didn't last too long. They weren't man enough for her.

Thinking about the teen who was man enough put a smile on her face through Zabini's 'call my dad Papa and my mum Eddy' speech. Smiling cheekily, she watched soft-brown eyes flash quite strikingly before she threw the Floo powder and left.

Stepping out of the Zabini library fireplace, Ginny met the deep, dark eyes of the man sitting behind a massive desk. She knew at once that this was Blaise's father, Enrique Zabini. He had short black curls that should have softened his image, but didn't. Zabini's daughter got her striking good looks from him. He didn’t look like a dad—he looked like a Latin lover. His intense features reminded her of a quote. Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look. He thinks too much. Such men are dangerous.

Mr. Zabini looked like he could plunge a dagger into Caesar just as easily as he could make deals and keep a family empire expanding. The man took a drag on a thin cheroot and blew out the smoke. "Did you enjoy visiting your friend?"

"Yes, Papa."

A wide grin split the man's face, making it appear boyish...and sexy. Ginny felt pervy for noticing the way a friend's father looked. Reluctantly, the man's fake 'daughter' moved to his side and allowed him to take her hands after he'd put his cheroot in a crystal dish.

"You call me Papa, so all is forgiven, now, eh? My little girl realises that her father has to build the company, even at Christmas, so he can leave her something worthy of the Zabini name. No more silent treatment for your Papa, si?"

The uncomfortable Gryffindor in Slytherin skin nodded and kissed his cheeks after he had brought her face down and saluted hers. She was thankful that Blaise's mother entered before she had to do something awful like sit on the man's lap. That cologne of his should be illegal. Ginny wondered where she could get some for Draco.

"Enrique, sweetie darling, I awoke and you were gone. I missed you."

"You always know where to find me, Edina."

"Yes, working, bloody, boring working. Can't you let it go for one bloody damn day, darling?"

"Why do you persist in using foul language in front of our child, woman? Do you want me to give you a better use for that mouth of yours?"

Staring in shock as Mr. Zabini strode over to kiss his wife in a way no child should be subjected to seeing; Ginny sidled around the couple. It was rather horrifyingly fascinating, this display of raw parental...affection. Ginny’s eyes closed in denial at the thought that her parents might ever act like this, even behind closed doors. No. They didn't...No-no-no-no-no.

"Run along and change, sweetie darling. Draco and Cissy will be here in an hour. Do wear something fab sweetheart. Marina's New Year's Eve parties are always packed with photographers taking photos outside. We want to make sure we get into the papers!" Turning back to her husband, Eddy murmured, "Why don't you come upstairs too, mi amor?"

Not wanting to hear the answer, Ginny ran upstairs and counted the doors on the right, one, two, open the third, and went into 'her' room. It was unlike the rest of the contemporarily furnished home.

The large space looked like it belonged in a castle in Spain with all the heavily carved furniture, tapestries, and heavy bed hangings. The dressing room was a room that contained two walls of clothes and a long dressing table covered with more perfume and makeup than a shop counter. Picking up scents to sniff, Ginny curiously opened drawers to find a collection of shells, a jumbled mess of what looked like antique, not costume, jewellery, and a photograph album. Sitting on the stool in front of the mirror in the middle of the dressing table, 'her' reflection waggled its eyebrows to encourage her snooping.

She opened the album and smiled. Blaise had been a cute baby. Loads of pictures were taken during her first five years, and then photographs got fewer and fewer until they abruptly became more numerous—when a blond boy began appearing with his dark-haired friend.

One photograph, with 12th birthday printed on the scrapbook underneath, showed Blaise pouting and Draco scowling before the girl sneered at the cake and left the picture. The next holiday shots showed children playing on a beach. Occasionally, the Zabini family would be photographed together. Mostly, the pictures were of Blaise and Draco doing holiday activities...skating, building snowmen, opening gifts, swimming, playing games, and all the other things children did on holidays.

Abruptly, Ginny shut the album. It wasn't nice to envy all the memories Blaise and Draco shared, but she did. A single photograph fluttered from between the pages of the book and drifted down to the floor.

Picking it up, she looked at the picture. It showed three girls sitting at a library table.

Colin had taken that picture. Luna was smiling enigmatically. On either side of the blonde, Ginny and Blaise were smirking at each other before grinning at the camera. On the back was written 'My Ravenclaw and Gryffindor friends—Thank Merlin they're not Hufflepuffs!' Placing the photo back before returning the scrapbook to the drawer, the temporary brunette smiled at her sultry reflection in the mirror as she undressed.

Blaise had an obscene amount of clothing. How was she supposed to decide? Finally, an ethereal black chiffon gown caught her eye. Strapless, it was fitted to the hips before falling to the floor. The skirt had a slit in the front that was almost indecent. Ginny loved it.

A house-elf appeared and helped her into undergarments that barely covered anything and the dress. In a blink of an eye, her makeup, far more dramatic than anything she'd ever worn before was applied. Sliding her feet into shoes so adorable she knew they were outrageously expensive, Ginny moved to the jewellery armoire to find a necklace and earrings to wear. In the bottom drawer, she found amber and gold earrings and a Celtic or Norse-looking gold necklace set with four teardrops of amber. Lifting the collar, she noticed engraved writing on the inside.

To Freyja, Brisingamen without the dwarves. Frey

The jewellery looked perfect with the dress. Picking up an evening cape, she headed downstairs to see if Draco had arrived. She wanted to hear what he had to say about the necklace. Ginny didn't really think anything of it. They were best mates. They called each other pet names—like the twin gods. Still, she wondered what the Slytherin/Norse love god's reaction would be...and she was about to find out.

 


 

 

Waiting with the parents in the foyer, Draco stood quietly, hands resting with studied casualness at the sides of his tuxedo. He tried not to fidget under Mr. Zabini's narrowed gaze.

The man who had greeted the Malfoys with an offhand offer of a drink had been not so subtly probing the boy about his interests, marks at school, and future ambitions. Thankfully, he'd just run out of questions. Obviously, Eddy had tattled about the Fire Festival kissing she'd witnessed and the over-protective father was trying to sort Draco out. Determine if he was suitable.

Draco had answered each question calmly and as honestly as he thought the other man able to handle. Both males glanced up as ‘Blaise’ sauntered down the staircase.

It was incredibly weird to know that his girlfriend's personality inhabited his best friend's body. Only a close examination allowed Draco to see the difference. His friend would have openly admired his dashing good looks, called him gorgeous, kissed his cheek and carefully smoothed his hair before raising her eyebrows in a silent demand that he return the compliments.

Ginny as Blaise stared at him as if she wanted to drag him away and snog until her lipstick was gone—and hers was the kind that couldn't be kissed off.

Mr. Zabini frowned at him before smiling indulgently at his daughter. "You look wonderful. Doesn't she, Edina?"

The frizzy-haired woman and Narcissa were sipping champagne and complimenting each other on their elaborate gowns. Eddy was in white and Cissy in black. The gala was a black and white ball, so they were happy to have both ends of the fashion spectrum covered. Starting in surprise at her husband's words, Mrs. Zabini glanced up for a cursory look and said, "Yes, yes, if a tad plain. Look at my sequins, darling, and Cissy's beaded extravaganza. Wouldn't you have liked something with a bit more glam, sweetie?"

"I'm fine, Mum."

The women gasped in horror.

Eddy tottered back and quaffed a glass of champagne before pouring another, drinking it down like medicine and saying faintly, "Mum...you called me Mum? Do you think I look...old, darling, is that why you called me that horrid, bourgeois, hag name, dearest?"

Mr. Zabini stalked over to give his wife a kiss that frankly, Draco was glad to be forced to witness. Now his urges were effectively doused for the evening. After the man had murmured nauseating Latin-lover-type phrases in Spanish and Italian, he chided, "It was a slip, quierda. Blaise calls me Papa, remember, carina? Forget it, and let us go enjoy the evening...my love."

Averting his gaze from the sight of Enrique kissing his way up his wife's gloved arm, Draco looked at Ginny. She mirrored his moue of distaste. He met her at the bottom of the stairs, offered his arm and whispered, "Still glad you came?"

Smiling wickedly, his girl in friend's skin lowered her voice to say, "I am now. I'll be even gladder when this potion wears off and I can show you how happy I am to be with you without words."

Funny how wicked smiles looked the same with either girl's spirit looking out the eyes. Not so funny was the way his stomach lurched when he saw the necklace she was wearing. Controlling his expression, Draco smiled and remarked casually, as though he didn't suspect his girlfriend had already read the message on the back of the reproduction of a Norse noblewoman's torque, "I gave that to Blaise for Christmas."

"What does the inscription mean?"

He told the truth. "Myth says Freyja got the necklace from four dwarves who only wanted her to thank them personally in payment."

"All four at once?"

Ginny looked shocked and amused. He smirked. "One each night for four nights, but still...without the dwarves is so much better."

She laughed.

Draco escorted Ginny outside, grateful that the subject was closed. There was no way that he would admit the four amber drops were a private thank you for the nights he and Blaise had innocently spent together. It would sound Hufflepuff and pathetic. Some things friends just had to take to their graves.

The party was being held across the square, so the families strolled over. Outside, several photographers were taking pictures of the arrivals, and one asked for a group shot of the Zabini/ Malfoys. Eddy and Sissy were all aflutter over the thought of being in the paper. Draco and the girl everyone thought was Blaise stood in the middle between the Zabini parents and his mother. The boy slipped his arm around his girl's waist and grinned when she returned the favour. He was glad that she had such a good sense of humour about the whole thing.

Their eyes met and held. Whatever form she took, Draco thought he would be able to recognise Ginny just by the way she looked at him with such...love? Did she love him?

Inside, an elf took their outerwear and the party moved toward the ballroom. Just inside, their Host and Hostess were greeting guests. Marina, in her simple white gown, made the women she kissed cheeks with look like gilded lilies.

The satisfied smirks Eddy and Cissy gave each other said they thought the Siren looked frumpy. Mr. Zabini spotted a friend and excused himself to head toward the bar. The mothers grabbed drinks off a passing tray and stood by a column drinking and happily deriding every other woman's dress—sometimes right after they had exchanged greeting with them.

Draco told the women he and 'Blaise' were going to find some food, and escaped. "Awful, aren't they?"

Ginny said, "They're...unique...I'll give them that."

Chuckling, Draco took her hand and led her to the dining room transformed into a buffet with numerous small tables and chairs scattered around the room. The teens filled plates and sat together at a tiny table for two. After he adjusted to the sight and sound of Blaise's body projecting Ginny's personality and expressions, he relaxed and treated the evening like a date. It was an unusual, even bizarre, date, but still a date.

They wandered from the dining room to the lounge, where Draco played Heart and Soul on the piano. After she applauded, he made Ginny laugh by admitting he couldn't play any others.

They drifted back into the ballroom where his date floated in his arms as they circled the floor. Draco smiled when Ginny sighed over the enchanted ceiling as she watched stars fall and comets blaze across the night sky and the man in the moon wave at the dancers below. The music changed. Some of the dancers started to tango. He pulled Ginny close, slid his hand around to her lower back, and in tango position moved forward, with her following his movements on every beat. Their feet barely left the floor as they glided effortlessly.

His partner smiled impishly and pressed against him. Only his promise not to kiss Ginny while she had 'Blaise's' lips kept her safe from retaliation. Looking away to cool down, he saw another couple who were just heating up as the song ended with Let's Face the Music and Dance.

A woman in a black evening gown with a plunging halter was kissing a man who looked vaguely familiar. Draco stood still and Ginny followed his gaze to the couple who should be damned glad the room was romantically dimmed.

"Oh my gods...that's Professor Lorelei. Who's she with?"

As if in answer, the pair unlocked lips. Lorelei saw them and gasped. The man turned. Draco didn't recognise his face, but the piercing stare and curled lip were well known. When the man raised a dark eyebrow before smirking and pulling his date close for a slow dance, and the woman grinned and winked, he said, "Snape."

"No... Why would he come here disguised?"

Raising his pale brow in a sardonic way answered her question. They weren't the only couple who were seeing each other secretly. She giggled, and looped her arms around his neck, resting her head against his shoulder as they danced.

Another young couple caught her attention. "Oh no, that girl in the short black dress is one of my roommates. Rosaline Wells."

He glanced over at the blonde who was currently interested in nothing but her date. "You mean Ginny's roommate, Blaise."

Full red lips smiled in relief. "That's right...she'll never know...which is good, because I don't trust Rosaline. She's always listening to people's conversations, and I saw her cheat once on a History of Magic test. I didn't tell on her, but I didn't forget it either."

"Maybe she should've been a Slytherin."

Ginny laughed, and they forgot about the other girl. As the New Year approached, they stood in a dark corner of the gallery outside the ballroom and watched fairy fireworks light the enchanted sky inside the house.

No one was around, so Draco felt free to say, "Ginny."

In the darkness, he only saw a flash of white as she smiled. He said softly, "I love your smile."

He felt dark eyes searching his face. Her tone mirrored his. "I love...your smile too."

The pause between her words propelled him to say, "Do you love...anything else about me?"

He heard her catch her breath.

"Yes...everything."

His breath caught too. Draco whispered, "I love you, Ginny."

"I love you too."

He wanted to kiss her, but he couldn't. He had promised.

"Do you want to kiss me? No one would see. When you looked like Colin, I wanted to kiss you...because you were Draco, inside, where it matters."

The moment his lips touched hers, he knew he shouldn't have done it. Ginny's mouth felt different, tasted different. He should've waited for the clock to finish striking, dragged her back to the Zabini home and kissed her there. When she moved against him, however, and his hands slipped into the front slit of her skirt and moved around to the back, Draco rationalised that it was really Ginny's arse, and only the girl he loved would know or care.

The kiss turned passionate as enchanted streamers and confetti showered around them. Cries of 'Happy New Year!' filled the air.

Dragging his lips away, he said roughly, "Let's get out of here."

She nodded, took his hand and followed him inside.

Magical 'fireworks' illumined another couple in their path. It was that Rosaline and her date. The petite girl with the blue eyes and cool arrogance of a feline smiled in a way that made him uneasy, but maybe she was just giving him the eye. Merlin knew girls had come on to him with a date in tow before.

With a curt "Happy New Year," Draco brushed past her and rushed Ginny across the ballroom, out to the entry where an elf brought his cloak and her wrap and back across the square to the Zabini house. In the library, he waited for the potion to wear off before taking her into his arms again.

He sighed as her lips met his and the embrace felt right and good and filled him with that indescribable feeling he knew was love.

 


 

 

"All is prepared, Miss, is there anything else you is wishing Minky to do?"

Luna smiled at the house-elf attired in a tea towel trimmed in fur. When she'd told Blaise about her father wanting to open their home for a staff New Year's Eve party as they had done when her mother was still with them, the other girl had insisted Minky be allowed to assist.

"Caterers are all well and good, but an elf can decorate, intimidate the staff into doing their best, and make sure everything runs smoothly in a way mere humans could never dream of. Don't argue. Minky will be happy to pop over and help. We've frustrated her by not having our own bash and you'll prevent her sulking and getting into the butterbeer. Really, you're doing us a favour."

Blaise Zabini was a force of nature that Luna knew better than to try to fight. Her family on her mother's side claimed the motto Flecti non frangi—may we bend but not break. Luna lived it.

The house was now decorated in faery lights, silver and gold balloons, streamers and white floral arrangements that gave an elegantly festive air to every room in the place. The dining room had been turned into a buffet, and the long music room across from the lounge transformed into a small ballroom.

"Excuse me, Miss, but my mistress asked me to help you dress. You is ready?"

Sighing, as once again she bent before the gale-force winds of Blaise's wishes, Luna showed the elf her room and stared as Minky held up a dress that she had seen once before...on the shopping trip with the Slytherin girl who seemed to be unable to resist buying other people clothes.

Luna had admired the bias silk slip dress in the same shade of blue as her eyes, but had been told it wasn't a 'girls' night out' dress, it was a 'get slinky for a boy' dress.

Apparently, Blaise had changed her mind, because there weren't going to be any boys at this party—it was adults only. Luna was only making an appearance every now and then to check that caterers kept the food and drink coming and to reassure her father that the barbarians invading his castle would leave...eventually. She fully intended to spend most of the night finally getting around to reading her Snorkacks in the Mist book.

Blinking, Luna realised that Minky had instantly applied makeup and arranged her hair. Thanking the elf who smiled with alarmingly large teeth before leaving, Luna stared into her mirror and wondered what exactly about her appearance troubled her so.

The makeup was light, even though she personally wouldn't have used blush or shadow that sparkled on her eyelids. Her hair was loose except for the two thin braids that framed her face. Frowning, Luna reached to pull a braid loose.

Her father poked his head in the door. "For Merlin's sake, come down and help me greet these people, sweetheart. I'm gettin' hives just thinking about trying to make nice to people I've never had to be nice to before."

Smiling at the man tugging at his tuxedo tie, his daughter left her hair alone and went downstairs to smooth over Daddy's abrupt welcomes. It wasn't his forte, and Larry's 'you came, great' and 'A pleasure? Oh yeah...sure, go on in and get drunk...I mean a drink' style of greeting made some people uncomfortable.

After an hour of smiling and shaking hands, Luna was taken aback to see Mr. Roberts entering with his son instead of his wife. Wesley looked way too good in a black evening suit with a shirt as white as his smile and no tie. The golden streamer floating past was the exact shade as his hair.

Blue eyes glinted impishly. "Hello, Luna. I volunteered to escort dad and make sure he doesn't dance on a table or sing, You've Lost That Loving Feeling."

Dimples as engaging as his son's flashed as the elder Robert's protested, "Once...it only happened once and forever after this is the way I'm treated"

Her father laughed and admitted he had sung once or twice too. Pale and bright blue eyes met in shared amusement. Wesley winked as he followed his father into the lounge. 'Lunatic Larry' looked at the door and said, "I think that's it for the leeches, I mean guests, darlin'. Anybody else who drags their arse...uh, arrives later can show their damn...er...darn selves in. Let's go get a drink—and no alcohol for you, Missy."

"Damn. I mean darn."

Chuckling with her father, Luna didn't notice the boy in her path until she walked into him. His hands felt warm on her bare shoulders as he steadied her with a smile that made Luna's heart race in a way that surely had to be unhealthy.

"Care to give me a tour?"

"What are you doing here?"

A golden brow rose. "Do you always start conversations this way?"

At her negative headshake, his lips curved temptingly. Her own lips tingled...no, they did nothing of the sort...or the tingling was from the lipstick. She must be allergic. Luna tried not to look at Wesley's mouth or into his eyes as he spoke again in the droll tone that made her smile.

"I myself am often surprised at life's little quirks. I suppose I could've gone out with some mates and got pissed, but instead, my mum got a cold, and I decided that hanging out with you sounded a whole lot more fun than getting drunk and disorderly."

Why had she looked into his eyes? The little voice in the back of her mind that had said, 'here's a boy to go with your dress' when she'd first seen Wesley was now trying to get her to ask him to define 'fun'. Luna felt pervy for even considering having him demonstrate it, so she told her inner tart to shut up.

Luna decided to treat him just like any other friend and agreeably gave a tour around the house. Impulsively, she showed him the secret stairway that led to a series of spy holes. Wesley peered through the eyes of a painting and looked down at the people in the lounge with such glee that she asked, "Are you a Peeping Tom?"

The golden-haired boy kept his eyes fixed on the crowd below, but his voice trembled with laughter. "That's hardly complimentary. It's possible to enjoy spying on people without being a pervert. Anyway, I'm not the one whose house has spy holes. Are you a Peeping Tomasina?"

"No, but...."

Intrigued blue eyes gazed into hers. "Go on, tell me. What hideous sin have you committed lately?"

She shook her head.

His dimples deepened. "You're just stalling now."

Unable to help herself, Luna grinned. "It wasn't lately, but I did use to peek at my parents' dinner guests."

"I hold you in the highest respect. Did you ever see anything...good?"

"If you mean naughty, then, yes, I did...but I'm not telling, so don't ask."

He pretended to pout. "That does put a damper on our relationship. Very well, if you won't entertain a guest, I'll just have to find a way to entertain myself."

Luna's heart stopped for a moment as his eyes lowered to her mouth.

Seeing the look on her face, Wesley grinned and returned to gazing at the guests. "Merlin, they're drinking like fish down there. We should come back in a few hours. I bet we'd see a lot of naughty goings on then." His tone sharpened. "Bollocks, that prat Humperdink's here. My father loathes him. He's in Accounting and always harping over exorbitant business lunches. I told him to sod off once, and all he could stammer was 'I would not say such things if I were you.' He turned away from the spy hole. "Let's go, Bella Luna."

Firmly ignoring the inner voice saying, 'ooohhh, Bella Luna...he likes you!' she led her fellow Ravenclaw down to the kitchen for a butterbeer. As they sat in companionable silence, Luna heard a voice in the outer corridor.

"Twying to find a woo, wuv. Will you diwect me pwease?"

The man moved away after getting an answer, but Wesley laughed so hard that Luna asked, "What's so funny?"

The smile that tempted her, no, tempted someone else...such as Fiona Flint...creased his face attractively. "That was the celebrant who presided over a cousin of mine's wedding. He was so...I can't explain...I'll just have to let you hear for yourself." Leaning forward, Wesley attempted to look solemnly into her eyes before intoning, "Mawage is wot bwings us togeder tooday. Mawage, that bwessed awangement, that dweam wifin a dweam."

Giggling, Luna gasped, "No, you're joking...he didn't!"

"He did. My cousins and I were convulsing in the back pew as the man assured the happy couple that, 'wuv, tru wuv, will fowow you foweva...so tweasure your wuv'."

Clutching her stomach, she laughed with him until tears rolled down her cheeks. Luna eventually composed herself, glad that Wesley had come to the party. He was so...no; she wasn't going to start thinking like that.

Luna jumped up and suggested they go get something to eat. That was a safe thing to do.

Except that, he ate as elegantly as he looked, and was so amusing, charming, and good-looking. Every time a guest in an emerald green dress walked by, Luna was consumed with guilt. Wasn't Harry her one true love? Of course he was. It was just that sitting alone in her room dreaming of him or reading a book in between thinking about him wasn't satisfying anymore.

Excusing herself, Luna went to 'powder' her nose and stayed there...for an hour. Tiptoeing past the makeshift ballroom, a voice inside halted her steps. "You're just in time, Luna. They're about to play our song. That doesn't leave much time for dilly-dallying. Come along."

Wesley's hand was outstretched. Tired of fighting herself, Luna placed her hand in his and allowed him to draw her inside to the dance floor.

The Goblin band started playing an oldie—Build me up Buttercup. Wesley sang along to as he twirled her around. He spun her out until only their hands clasped and then pulled her back. They rocked together to the beat. Her pulse started racing again as he lowered his head to look into eyes.

After the song ended, Wesley immediately began dancing again, so she relaxed and followed his lead. Rationalising that they were the only teens here and it would be rude to make a guest bored and uncomfortable, Luna happily spent the rest of the night by his side. Right before midnight, she showed him the library. Wesley nodded in approval of the books, but started getting a glint in his eye as the New Year approached.

She tried to head him off with 'now, Wesley' but he just smiled. "Hello. My name is Wesley Roberts. You're beautiful, and its New Year's. Prepare to be kissed."

She put a leather chair between them, but he raised a golden eyebrow and stepped around it, saying again, "Hello. My name is Wesley Roberts. You're beautiful, and its New Year's. Prepare to be kissed."

Luna darted around the desk. "Stop saying that!"

Eventually, Wesley cornered her against a bookcase, and Luna prepared to be kissed by closing her eyes and parting her lips. Her hands seemed to have a will of their own, sliding into his hair and pressing his head to hers.

The kiss was incredibly sweet.

Luna trembled as Wesley raised his head and played with the braids in her hair. The lips that she wanted to kiss again smiled tenderly. She leaned toward him just as Mr. Roberts stuck his head into the library and told his son it was time for them to leave.

Inconceivable blue eyes stayed locked with hers as Wesley said, "Be right there, Dad." Toying with a braid, he brought it to his lips before letting it go and backing away. "Luna?"

He was almost at the door before she collected her wits enough to say, "Yes?"

Stopping in the doorway, he leaned against it and looked at her. "Did your mother ever tell you any Yule stories...say...the one about the Oak King and the Spring Maiden?"

Her eyes grew wide and her mouth opened in surprise. Unthinkingly, Luna put a hand over her heart as she whispered, "Yes."

He winked and curved his mouth in a way that made his dimples look even more adorable—if such a thing was possible.

"Good. It's my favourite."

Standing in the library long after Wesley left; Luna fingered a braid and sighed. "Mine too."

 


 


 

A/N: Happy New Year! Did you catch all the Princess Bride quotes? I put 13 citations and two familiar words (Humperdink, inconceivable) in because I've wanted to do it for a long, long, time...and please don't feel you have to quote them back. I'll take your word. I also, for my own twisted enjoyment, put a "feeling" in common for each of our protagonists. :D

Carly Simon sang Anticipation and Diana Krall is the singer whose version of 'Let's Face the Music and Dance' inspired Ginny and Draco's tango. 'Build Me Up, Buttercup' is by the Foundations and good grief, could a song be better suited to Wesley and Buttercup...I mean Luna? The Yond Cassius lean and hungry look quote was from Julius Caesar, and yeah, I used part of it before...just the 'lean and hungry' part when Terry dragged Blaise off to go lick chocolate mousse off each other, but I felt it suited Enrique, who I saw as a Antonio Banderas type w/ Adams Family impulses.

 

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