Chapter 2- The Significance of Pea Plants
When Ginny flipped the book to the first page and found the leaf of a small pea plant, she couldn’t help but laugh. To anyone else, this wouldn’t mean anything, but she understood its significance. A tiny pea plant had marked the beginning of everything for she and Draco…
_________________________________________________________________
Ginny pinned back a few more strands of hair and smiled at the mirror, finally satisfied. Her thick red hair hung in gorgeous curls down over her shoulders, pulled back at the sides to highlight her high cheekbones. She wore a simple green dress that hung nicely on her small curves, and her wrists and neck sparkled with jewelry she’d borrowed from Parvati for just this occasion. Between the color of the dress, her red hair, and the white silk belt of the dress, Ginny decided she looked very festive.
A knock sounded at the door and Ginny glanced at the clock. “Come in.”
Harry and Ron stepped into the room, both in rather nice dress robes and looking somewhat decent for a change. It was her brother that spoke first. “Come on, Gin. We’re going to be late.”
“Hold your horses.” Ginny glanced in the mirror a final time and turned away to rummage in her closet. “I’ll be down in a minute. I’ve got to find my shoes.”
Ron turned and left the room, obviously expecting Harry to follow. He didn’t. Instead, he simply stood and looked at his best friend’s sister, who was unaware that he was still present. She was growing into such a woman. It was a shame things hadn’t worked out with them.
A couple minutes before Ginny was able to locate her shoes, pull them on, and look up. When she did, she raised an eyebrow questioningly at the look Harry was giving her. “What?”
“You look beautiful.”
Ginny smiled and straightened. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
Harry grinned back at her and they were brother and sister once more. Linking arms, they walked out of the room and down into the living room of the Burrow where everyone else stood waiting to floo to the Ministry. Hermione glanced up as they joined the group and raised a questioning eyebrow at Ginny, but no one else seemed to notice. A moment later, they were on their way.
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The Christmas decorations in the Ministry ballroom were beautiful, if not just a tad tacky. It kind of looked like the Yule Ball had at Hogwarts, except that everything was just… overdone. There were too many ice sculptures, too many Christmas trees, and way too many sprigs of mistletoe hanging in the doorways. Bill quickly spotted a shady-looking wizard lounging expectantly near a particularly mistletoe adorned doorway and wasted no time in ushering the women in his party through a different entrance.
Once they got inside, it wasn’t very long before Ginny found herself being approached by young wizards eager to dance with her. She turned away the first two—or rather, Charlie frightened them away—but soon grew bored with just standing around and mentally resolved to accept the next man who stopped by, though only if his sense of personal hygiene was up to par. To her surprise—and not necessarily horror—the next one just happened to be a Slytherin.
Blaise Zabini, passing the small group on his way to the punch bowl, slowed and stopped in front of Ginny. He started to whistle appreciatively, but caught sight of her second-oldest brother standing behind her and thought better of it. Instead, he spoke. “Weaslette.”
“Zabini.”
Blaise’s eyes slowly moved up and down her body. “You look hot.”
Ginny could’ve been knocked over by a feather. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Blaise stopped, glanced at the dance floor, then back at Ginny. A challenging gleam appeared in his eye. “Want to dance?”
Charlie began to protest loudly, but Ginny had seen the gleam in Blaise’s eye and ignored him, answering with secretive smile of her own. “Love to.”
Blaise smiled back and led her out onto the dance floor, pulling her into a hold that was a little too close for comfort. Charlie was watching, however, so Ginny forced herself to relax, showing that she didn’t need his help. Reluctantly, he turned away, and Ginny allowed herself to settle into the slow dance. She didn’t know Blaise well; therefore, she couldn’t state categorically that Blaise was a bad guy. She supposed the fact that he was a Slytherin wasn’t reason enough to be completely ill-at-ease with him.
The dance seemed to move at in intolerably slow pace. It was at least a minute before either of them said anything and when one of them did speak it was the product Ginny’s mouth moving before her brain had a chance to catch up. “You smell good.”
Blaise completely stopped for a second. He recovered quickly, then started the dance again, pushing her back a little from him so he could see her face. “What did you say?”
Ginny could feel the red creeping up into her face but answered honestly anyway. “I said you smell good. You practically shoved my face into your shoulder and I couldn’t stand the silence—I thought I’d go ahead and state the obvious.”
Blaise looked at her disbelievingly for a moment, one eyebrow raised in amusement. He shook his head and pulled her back in. “Okay.”
“Seriously.”
“Okay.”
The silence started again, and Ginny decided to break it again. “Now it’s your turn.”
“To do what, exactly?”
“I don’t know, return the compliment?”
“I already paid you one compliment tonight, Weaslette. Don’t push your luck.” Blaise’s smirk spoke of his amusement. “So what do you want to do after Hogwarts?”
Ginny pulled back enough to look at his face. “I know you don’t care, so why do you ask?”
“Small talk.” Blaise grinned charmingly, white teeth flashing against his dark skin, and Ginny couldn’t help but laugh.
“I want to be a teacher, wife, and mother.”
“I’m stunned by the lack of auror dreams in there. Had enough of the action?”
Ginny opened and closed her mouth once, searching for the right words. “Let me put it this way: if I live through the final battle, I intend to live out the rest of my days in a completely danger-free environment.”
Blaise laughed. “You would classify a school full of young witches and wizards who haven’t yet learned to control their powers danger-free? You may want to rethink that one.”
“Well what do you want to do?”
“I’ve been talking to your brother and I believe I might enjoy what he does.”
“What, dealing with dragons?”
“Not Charlie.”
“Oh, inventing interesting and sometimes deadly candy?”
“Not the twins.”
Ginny frowned. “Refusing to admit you want to bed Hermione?”
“No!”
Blaise’s yell was so loud and urgent that people around them looked around, and he quickly lowered his voice. “I’m interested in breaking curses for Gringotts.”
“Oh, Bill.” Ginny’s smile told him she’d known what he was talking about the whole time.
Blaise opened his mouth to reply but a finger snaked over his shoulder and tapped him. “May I cut in?”
Blaise let Ginny go reluctantly but gracefully, and he bent his head as he walked away to whisper in her ear. “You smell good, too, love.”
Ginny smiled as she watched him walk away, and her eyes were still bright with laughter as she turned to wrap her arms around Harry’s neck.
“You didn’t look too tortured to be with him.”
“We were having fun. He actually seems okay.”
Harry looked after Blaise appraisingly. “He’s friends with Malfoy, Ginny.”
Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes. “Really? Good thing you let me know, because I’ve only been at Hogwarts with them for six years—I never would’ve known.”
Harry started to reply, but changed his mind at Ginny’s narrowed eyes. “So, how are you liking this whole Christmas-party-at-the-Ministry thing?”
“You know, it’s fun; I’m rather enjoying myself.”
“Good.” Harry nodded at another couple, drawing Ginny’s attention. “Look at Ron and Hermione.”
Ginny followed Harry’s gaze and laughed out loud. Ron and Hermione were dancing together but as far apart as possible, each holding the other at arm’s length, obviously very determined not to give anyone the wrong impression. Ron’s face and ears were as bright red as his hair; Hermione’s eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but at the man she was dancing with.
“I wish they’d just admit they like each and move on.”
Harry nodded. “It’d be so much easier on the rest of us, not having to tiptoe around them all the time.”
“True.”
They both smiled but neither spoke again. The song went on with Ginny and Harry wrapped in each others arms. It wasn’t a romantic feeling, but yet… somehow it was. It was the feeling of former loves that could no longer stand to pretend everything was settled between them. Though the music faded, though a fight erupted over by the punch bowl, though Ron came over and began to talk to the two of them, Ginny and Harry’s gazes remained locked until something changed in both of them: yearning became resignation. Nodding to each other, they broke apart, and Ginny turned away with tears in her eyes.
Blinking hard, Ginny turned toward the door, having already resolved not to cry. Still, just in case it happened, she didn’t want to be in plain view of everyone. She headed out of a side entrance and into the small garden beyond it. Snow crunched on the ground beneath her feet and raised goose-bumps on her skin, but Ginny didn’t mind; she needed something to snap her back to reality right now. She needed to think.
Another set of footsteps crunching made her whirl around and she found Draco Malfoy had joined her in the garden.
“Malfoy.”
“Weaslette.”
Without thinking, she said the first thing that popped into her head. “You look good.”
“What?” Draco had stopped dead.
Ginny rolled her eyes. What was it with these Slytherins and their inability to take a compliment without arresting movement? “You heard me. I don’t think the fact that you’re a Malfoy and I’m a Weasley negates my ability to note the obvious and verbally state it.”
Draco just looked at her, slight bewilderment creeping through his usual I’m-a-mighty-Malfoy-and-you’re-excrement-beneath-my-feet expression. “Thank you, I suppose.”
“You’re welcome.” Ginny felt a blush beginning and sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the dim lighting in the garden. “What are you doing out here?”
Draco pointed a single finger at the hanging plant she stood beneath but was suddenly standing much too close; she didn’t have a chance to look at the plant before he spoke. “Mistletoe.” And without another word, he brought his lips down on hers.
It wasn’t a short kiss, nor was it chaste in any way. By the time he pulled back, they were both panting. Ginny, struggling to overcome the sheer bafflement that seemed to be cutting off the oxygen supply to her brain, cast around desperately for something to say and finally managed a look at the plant. “That is a pea plant.”
Draco didn’t even pause in straightening his cloak. “Pardon?”
“This is a pea plant, not mistletoe.”
Draco shrugged as he left her confused in the garden. “My mistake.”
____________________________________________________________________
Ginny shook herself out of the memory and ran her fingers down the page of the book. She wanted desperately to flip through the rest and devour her memories with Draco, but something told her to wait. She didn’t know how long it was until Draco would be back now, and she should savor these; they were precious. Closing her eyes to try to make the task easier, she closed the book and put it back into its hiding place, vowing not to come back to the memories until the next day; there were people that needed her here and now, not stuck in the past.
When Ginny flipped the book to the first page and found the leaf of a small pea plant, she couldn’t help but laugh. To anyone else, this wouldn’t mean anything, but she understood its significance. A tiny pea plant had marked the beginning of everything for she and Draco…
_________________________________________________________________
Ginny pinned back a few more strands of hair and smiled at the mirror, finally satisfied. Her thick red hair hung in gorgeous curls down over her shoulders, pulled back at the sides to highlight her high cheekbones. She wore a simple green dress that hung nicely on her small curves, and her wrists and neck sparkled with jewelry she’d borrowed from Parvati for just this occasion. Between the color of the dress, her red hair, and the white silk belt of the dress, Ginny decided she looked very festive.
A knock sounded at the door and Ginny glanced at the clock. “Come in.”
Harry and Ron stepped into the room, both in rather nice dress robes and looking somewhat decent for a change. It was her brother that spoke first. “Come on, Gin. We’re going to be late.”
“Hold your horses.” Ginny glanced in the mirror a final time and turned away to rummage in her closet. “I’ll be down in a minute. I’ve got to find my shoes.”
Ron turned and left the room, obviously expecting Harry to follow. He didn’t. Instead, he simply stood and looked at his best friend’s sister, who was unaware that he was still present. She was growing into such a woman. It was a shame things hadn’t worked out with them.
A couple minutes before Ginny was able to locate her shoes, pull them on, and look up. When she did, she raised an eyebrow questioningly at the look Harry was giving her. “What?”
“You look beautiful.”
Ginny smiled and straightened. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
Harry grinned back at her and they were brother and sister once more. Linking arms, they walked out of the room and down into the living room of the Burrow where everyone else stood waiting to floo to the Ministry. Hermione glanced up as they joined the group and raised a questioning eyebrow at Ginny, but no one else seemed to notice. A moment later, they were on their way.
__________________________________________________________
The Christmas decorations in the Ministry ballroom were beautiful, if not just a tad tacky. It kind of looked like the Yule Ball had at Hogwarts, except that everything was just… overdone. There were too many ice sculptures, too many Christmas trees, and way too many sprigs of mistletoe hanging in the doorways. Bill quickly spotted a shady-looking wizard lounging expectantly near a particularly mistletoe adorned doorway and wasted no time in ushering the women in his party through a different entrance.
Once they got inside, it wasn’t very long before Ginny found herself being approached by young wizards eager to dance with her. She turned away the first two—or rather, Charlie frightened them away—but soon grew bored with just standing around and mentally resolved to accept the next man who stopped by, though only if his sense of personal hygiene was up to par. To her surprise—and not necessarily horror—the next one just happened to be a Slytherin.
Blaise Zabini, passing the small group on his way to the punch bowl, slowed and stopped in front of Ginny. He started to whistle appreciatively, but caught sight of her second-oldest brother standing behind her and thought better of it. Instead, he spoke. “Weaslette.”
“Zabini.”
Blaise’s eyes slowly moved up and down her body. “You look hot.”
Ginny could’ve been knocked over by a feather. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Blaise stopped, glanced at the dance floor, then back at Ginny. A challenging gleam appeared in his eye. “Want to dance?”
Charlie began to protest loudly, but Ginny had seen the gleam in Blaise’s eye and ignored him, answering with secretive smile of her own. “Love to.”
Blaise smiled back and led her out onto the dance floor, pulling her into a hold that was a little too close for comfort. Charlie was watching, however, so Ginny forced herself to relax, showing that she didn’t need his help. Reluctantly, he turned away, and Ginny allowed herself to settle into the slow dance. She didn’t know Blaise well; therefore, she couldn’t state categorically that Blaise was a bad guy. She supposed the fact that he was a Slytherin wasn’t reason enough to be completely ill-at-ease with him.
The dance seemed to move at in intolerably slow pace. It was at least a minute before either of them said anything and when one of them did speak it was the product Ginny’s mouth moving before her brain had a chance to catch up. “You smell good.”
Blaise completely stopped for a second. He recovered quickly, then started the dance again, pushing her back a little from him so he could see her face. “What did you say?”
Ginny could feel the red creeping up into her face but answered honestly anyway. “I said you smell good. You practically shoved my face into your shoulder and I couldn’t stand the silence—I thought I’d go ahead and state the obvious.”
Blaise looked at her disbelievingly for a moment, one eyebrow raised in amusement. He shook his head and pulled her back in. “Okay.”
“Seriously.”
“Okay.”
The silence started again, and Ginny decided to break it again. “Now it’s your turn.”
“To do what, exactly?”
“I don’t know, return the compliment?”
“I already paid you one compliment tonight, Weaslette. Don’t push your luck.” Blaise’s smirk spoke of his amusement. “So what do you want to do after Hogwarts?”
Ginny pulled back enough to look at his face. “I know you don’t care, so why do you ask?”
“Small talk.” Blaise grinned charmingly, white teeth flashing against his dark skin, and Ginny couldn’t help but laugh.
“I want to be a teacher, wife, and mother.”
“I’m stunned by the lack of auror dreams in there. Had enough of the action?”
Ginny opened and closed her mouth once, searching for the right words. “Let me put it this way: if I live through the final battle, I intend to live out the rest of my days in a completely danger-free environment.”
Blaise laughed. “You would classify a school full of young witches and wizards who haven’t yet learned to control their powers danger-free? You may want to rethink that one.”
“Well what do you want to do?”
“I’ve been talking to your brother and I believe I might enjoy what he does.”
“What, dealing with dragons?”
“Not Charlie.”
“Oh, inventing interesting and sometimes deadly candy?”
“Not the twins.”
Ginny frowned. “Refusing to admit you want to bed Hermione?”
“No!”
Blaise’s yell was so loud and urgent that people around them looked around, and he quickly lowered his voice. “I’m interested in breaking curses for Gringotts.”
“Oh, Bill.” Ginny’s smile told him she’d known what he was talking about the whole time.
Blaise opened his mouth to reply but a finger snaked over his shoulder and tapped him. “May I cut in?”
Blaise let Ginny go reluctantly but gracefully, and he bent his head as he walked away to whisper in her ear. “You smell good, too, love.”
Ginny smiled as she watched him walk away, and her eyes were still bright with laughter as she turned to wrap her arms around Harry’s neck.
“You didn’t look too tortured to be with him.”
“We were having fun. He actually seems okay.”
Harry looked after Blaise appraisingly. “He’s friends with Malfoy, Ginny.”
Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes. “Really? Good thing you let me know, because I’ve only been at Hogwarts with them for six years—I never would’ve known.”
Harry started to reply, but changed his mind at Ginny’s narrowed eyes. “So, how are you liking this whole Christmas-party-at-the-Ministry thing?”
“You know, it’s fun; I’m rather enjoying myself.”
“Good.” Harry nodded at another couple, drawing Ginny’s attention. “Look at Ron and Hermione.”
Ginny followed Harry’s gaze and laughed out loud. Ron and Hermione were dancing together but as far apart as possible, each holding the other at arm’s length, obviously very determined not to give anyone the wrong impression. Ron’s face and ears were as bright red as his hair; Hermione’s eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but at the man she was dancing with.
“I wish they’d just admit they like each and move on.”
Harry nodded. “It’d be so much easier on the rest of us, not having to tiptoe around them all the time.”
“True.”
They both smiled but neither spoke again. The song went on with Ginny and Harry wrapped in each others arms. It wasn’t a romantic feeling, but yet… somehow it was. It was the feeling of former loves that could no longer stand to pretend everything was settled between them. Though the music faded, though a fight erupted over by the punch bowl, though Ron came over and began to talk to the two of them, Ginny and Harry’s gazes remained locked until something changed in both of them: yearning became resignation. Nodding to each other, they broke apart, and Ginny turned away with tears in her eyes.
Blinking hard, Ginny turned toward the door, having already resolved not to cry. Still, just in case it happened, she didn’t want to be in plain view of everyone. She headed out of a side entrance and into the small garden beyond it. Snow crunched on the ground beneath her feet and raised goose-bumps on her skin, but Ginny didn’t mind; she needed something to snap her back to reality right now. She needed to think.
Another set of footsteps crunching made her whirl around and she found Draco Malfoy had joined her in the garden.
“Malfoy.”
“Weaslette.”
Without thinking, she said the first thing that popped into her head. “You look good.”
“What?” Draco had stopped dead.
Ginny rolled her eyes. What was it with these Slytherins and their inability to take a compliment without arresting movement? “You heard me. I don’t think the fact that you’re a Malfoy and I’m a Weasley negates my ability to note the obvious and verbally state it.”
Draco just looked at her, slight bewilderment creeping through his usual I’m-a-mighty-Malfoy-and-you’re-excrement-beneath-my-feet expression. “Thank you, I suppose.”
“You’re welcome.” Ginny felt a blush beginning and sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the dim lighting in the garden. “What are you doing out here?”
Draco pointed a single finger at the hanging plant she stood beneath but was suddenly standing much too close; she didn’t have a chance to look at the plant before he spoke. “Mistletoe.” And without another word, he brought his lips down on hers.
It wasn’t a short kiss, nor was it chaste in any way. By the time he pulled back, they were both panting. Ginny, struggling to overcome the sheer bafflement that seemed to be cutting off the oxygen supply to her brain, cast around desperately for something to say and finally managed a look at the plant. “That is a pea plant.”
Draco didn’t even pause in straightening his cloak. “Pardon?”
“This is a pea plant, not mistletoe.”
Draco shrugged as he left her confused in the garden. “My mistake.”
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Ginny shook herself out of the memory and ran her fingers down the page of the book. She wanted desperately to flip through the rest and devour her memories with Draco, but something told her to wait. She didn’t know how long it was until Draco would be back now, and she should savor these; they were precious. Closing her eyes to try to make the task easier, she closed the book and put it back into its hiding place, vowing not to come back to the memories until the next day; there were people that needed her here and now, not stuck in the past.
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