Chapter 9- The Many Faces of Ron Weasley

The eighth page of the book held a pair of tickets to a Quidditch match between the Harpies and the Cannons. They were dated seven years ago.

Ginny growled at the mirror, willing her reflection to change. There were a few things that Ginny really really hated, and they all seemed to be ganging up to put her in a bloody foul mood today. She hated first dates. She hated not sleeping well the night before first dates. She hated trying to look good for first dates while trying to make it look like she hadn't tried. She hated the Bertie Botts beans that tasted like lima beans. Granted, that last one wasn't remotely connected to the other three and the terrible start to her day, but it was still true. The problem right now was that she didn't look good enough for a first date. Ginny's initial reaction when Draco had proposed a Quidditch match had been excitement; her reaction when she'd stood in front of the mirror and tried to make herself look effortlessly attractive and feminine resulted in a nasty hairbrush throwing incident and a stream of swearing that would probably result in a noise violation.

A knock sounded at her door and Ginny sighed, sparing one last glance in the mirror before she turned away to hurry across the flat. She did a quick check through the peephole before opening the door.

"Hi."

"Hello."

They stood silently, sizing each other up. Ginny had to stifle a snicker when she was that Draco was wearing muggle jeans and trainers underneath his robes. Granted, the robes looked very expensive, and the jeans probably cost more than her entire wardrobe, but still. Her amusement quickly faded into silent glowering when she registered how effortlessly good he looked in his muggle clothes. He probably hadn't spent any time at all getting ready. Bastard.

As for herself, Ginny was feeling rather self-conscious about her clothing choices. The plain t-shirt and ripped jeans that she loved had felt like a good idea at the closet five minutes ago. Stupid closet, making clothes look better than they really did. Ginny also knew that the worn orange Chudley Cannons hat she wore clashed horribly with her hair, but she didn't have much of a choice there; she had to at least make the attempt at being inconspicuous today. If the tabloids caught her out with Draco it would be headline news, and Blaise would skin her alive.

The silence was getting awkward by the time Ginny finished mentally berating herself for always tuning out Fleur when she went on her Ginny-'as-'orrible-fashion-sense-101 rampages.

"Nice hat."

Ginny smiled a bit in spite of herself and touched the well-worn fabric. "Family heirloom. I don't really like it myself, but I know Ron does, so I stole it. I figure having to wear it occasionally is penance enough for my thievery."

"Since you acknowledged it's horrid, I feel justified in not pretending to like it."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Come in, then."

Draco stepped into the flat, eyes sweeping over the walls, the small kitchen, and the doors leading to her bedroom and bathroom before settling on the untidy living room. Ginny mentally congratulated herself for at least remembering to take care of the empty wine bottles that usually adorned every flat surface they could find. She could live with him thinking she was a slob; a wino, not so much.

"No comment on my hobo-esque way of living? No jibe about my entire flat being smaller than your bathtub?"

Draco's gaze moved from the living room back to Ginny. "I'll save the insults for later in the date, probably after I've already charmed you into shagging me."

"You're off to a brilliant start. I'm swooning already." Ginny double-checked her back pocked for her wand—take that, Professor Moody—and grabbed her keys. "Shall we go?"

When they apparated into the stadium, there were two things that Ginny immediately noticed. The first was that there were a few thousand people milling about, so the odds of them running into anyone who would jeopardize her cover were slight. The second was that her hat—and hair—helped her blend in perfectly with the supporters of one of the two teams scheduled to play. Unfortunately, it wasn't the right team.

Ginny made a face at Draco. "You didn't tell me not to wear my Cannons hat."

"I thought I made it abundantly clear that that particular fashion choice was a mistake. I'll be less subtle next time, if you'd prefer."

"I don't give a rat's ass what you think about my hat." That wasn't strictly true, but he didn't need to know that. Ginny adjusted her hat self-consciously. "Once we get to our seats, I'm going to be lynched for wearing this. Why did you get us tickets for the Harpies side instead of the Cannons?"

"We have a box to ourselves, and I doubt I'll be struck with a sudden urge to lynch you, so your life is safe." Draco watched her fiddle with her hat in amusement. "As for your question…. the politically correct answer is that the Cannons are playing a double-header and won't be at the top of their game. The real answer is given the equally undesirable options of supporting a team of masculine women or a team of girly men, I went with the former."

Ginny reached toward her back pocket and toyed with her wand. "Would it be a deal-breaker if I charmed one of the Bludgers to come after you? Just for a minute or two, I mean."

"Only because I already paid for the tickets, and if I go to the hospital and you go to prison, they won't get used."

"Right. That would be a waste." Ginny let the smile linger on her face as her eyes swept the crowd. A feeling of uneasiness pushed its way into her mind and began to creep along her spine. There was something she should be remembering… "Bugger."

Draco looked at her sideways. "What?"

"The Cannons are Ron's favorite team." Ginny reached up to run a hand through her hair but stopped when she remembered the hat. "The odds of him being here just increased exponentially."

Draco raised any eyebrow. "If you didn't want to be seen with me, you shouldn't have agreed to a Quidditch match."

"I'm beginning to reconsider that Bludger idea, Malfoy."

Ginny continued scanning the crowd. In retrospect, she was never exactly sure how he did it. All she knew was that out of the thousands of people streaming out of the stadium and the thousands of new ones crowding into the stadium, she and Draco were somehow spotted by the person that Ginny least wanted to see right then.

"Oh bollocks."

Ginny watched his face break into a smile upon recognizing her. The smile faded into confusion as he recognized her companion. The traditional ruddy complexion of the Weasley family morphed to purple, albeit a less intense shade of purple than it would have during their Hogwarts days. And then, of course, he made his way towards them, pushing through the milling people with an odd cross between anger and determination on his face.

Ginny pushed Draco hard to the side, aiming for the currently deserted area behind a nearby broom shed. "Go, Draco. Go!"

"You're not actually suggesting we run away from your brother." Draco's voice was incredulous. After the initial sidestep that had resulted from Ginny's moment, Draco had regained his balance and was now staidly refusing to move.

"No, I'm suggesting we have the inevitable confrontation in a slightly less public area." Ginny pushed again, and Draco refused to move again. "Come on, Draco. Please!"

Draco considered her, his interest looking vaguely piqued. "You'll explain this interesting move to me later?"

"Yes, now go!"

This time Draco acquiesced to her shoving and allowed her to guide him into the shadowy grass. It wasn't long before Ron reached them.

"Hello, Ron."

"Ginny, what are you-?"

Ginny interrupted quickly. "Did the Cannons win?"

"What?" Ron blinked, momentarily distracted. "Oh, of course not; it's the Cannons. Gin, why-?"

"That's too bad. I thought they had a shot with that new keeper of theirs."

"Jordan?"

Ginny smirked. It was just too easy. "Yeah. Didn't he come in with a 90% success rate?"

"His wife is having a baby so he was out today. His replacement isn't worth the retainer they pay to keep him."

"Oh. Damn reproduction."

"Yeah…" Ron looked lost for a moment and seemed to have forgotten his original reason for coming over. Draco's failure to suppress a snort brought an end to that. "Why are you with Malfoy?"

Ginny shot Draco a death glare. "Because we're on a date, so it seemed prudent to at least not shun his company the whole time."

Ron looked stunned. "Why?"

"Because when you go on a date with someone it's considered rude to find a different seat so you don't have to sit beside them."

"No, I mean why are you on a date with Malfoy?"

"Because I want to be, Ronald."

"Why?"

Ginny sighed. "Because I took a Bludger to the head and lost my memory, and when I woke up the first thing I saw was Malfoy so I figured he must be my one and only true love. We then proceeded to make passionate, unprotected love on the Quidditch field and I'm now pregnant with his albino baby, so he thought he'd at least take me on a couple of sham dates before making an honest woman of me."

Ron's mouth worked silently, his anger interfering with his ability to produce a witty comeback to combat Ginny's sarcasm.

"She's wearing your hat, too."

"Damn it, Draco!"
Ron found his voice again. "You're on a date with Malfoy and you stole my Cannons hat?"

Ginny was fairly certain Ron's emotional attachment to his Quidditch hat was fueling more of his anger than any sense of protectiveness for her. "Yes to both, though I'm feeling slightly more regret over one of those than the other at the moment."

"But it's Malfoy."

"I know it is, and I know you don't like it. I, however, have no problem with my being on a date with Malfoy, and it's my opinion that counts."

Ron gaped like a fish. "But… it's Malfoy."

Ginny sighed. "Ron, I think you need a little time to process this. We can talk about it like semi-rational adults later, maybe even get through it without either of our hands moving to 'mortal peril' on Mum's clock."

"Ginny-"

"Please, Ron."

Ron opened his mouth and then closed it again. "Fine. We'll talk later."

"Fine."

He had gotten almost to the apparition point when he turned back. "And I want that hat back! Don't let him get any ferret germs on it."

"Bye, Ron."

Ron glared but continued into the apparition section and apparated away. Ginny pulled off her hat and slapped Draco with it a few times.

"And there go the ferret germs. Your brother isn't going to want his hat back anymo-"

"You're an ass."

"I've been told." Draco tugged the hat from her fingers before she could hit him again. "The opportunity was too golden to pass up."

"Well, bask in the glow of that satisfaction good and long; it's the only afterglow or satisfaction you'll be getting tonight."

Draco's face contorted with a small frown that turned into a smirk a moment later. "So you're saying that if I hadn't toyed with your brother, I was going to get shagged tonight? God, Weasley, I'd have made a go at you when we were in school if I'd known you were such an easy lay. The gossip mill at Hogwarts made you out to be a prude."

"I wouldn't have come within ten feet of you without my dragon-skin gloves and a Bubblehead charm." Ginny began walking back toward the gates and the now-thinning crowd, trusting Draco would follow. "Rumor has it you slept with everything that wore Slytherin colors and had a vagina."

"Experience speaks for itself, Ginny." Draco was indeed following her, walking behind her purposefully to enjoy the view. "That means I'm an exceptionally good lay."

"Or a diseased one." Ginny turned around to walk backwards, fully aware he'd been ogling her backside and still feeling irritated enough to deprive him of that. "Honestly, Draco, one would think you'd be more careful about spreading around the family jewels, so to speak; hoards of little Malfoys could follow, and Merlin knows we only need one of those per generation."

"As opposed to little Weasels, who we obviously need roaming the halls of Hogwarts in quantities approaching the double-digits at any given time." Draco took longer strides to draw even with Ginny; there was no point in walking behind her if she wasn't going to let him enjoy the view. He turned her around to face forward, letting his hand linger on her shoulder for a moment longer than necessary. "Contrary to what you may have heard, a Malfoy exercises discretion in all aspects of his life, including sexual liaisons."

"You're backtracking." Ginny watched Draco out of the corner of her eye, shrugging off the tingling feeling his hand had left on her shoulder. Talking about sex made her more sensitive to even casual gestures. It had made dance lessons with Blaise awkward at times, that was for damn sure. "Trying to tell me you're not actually an exceptional lay after all?"

Draco smirked. "Quality over quantity, Weaslette. I am an exceptional lay and disease free."

"World's worst pickup lines for $500, Alex." Ginny smiled at her private joke, waving away Draco's inquisitive look. "It's from a Muggle television show. So tell me—do you always spend this much of a date discoursing on your sexual prowress?"

"My dates rarely remain fully clothed this long, so I really couldn't tell you." Draco nodded meaningfully toward the broom shed they had just walked away from. "Any other woman, for example, would have already seen the inside of that broom shed and tested the structural stability of at least one of the walls and probably the door."

Ginny chuckled in spite of herself, shaking her head in amazement. "Do you ever talk about anything other than sex?"

"Occasionally. I sometimes enjoy the subject of Quidditch." Draco glanced around. The swarm of people crowding into the stadium had thinned to a trickle of stragglers. "Speaking of which, we have two box seats anxiously awaiting our arrival. Seeing as they cost me the equivalent of a common man's life savings to procure on such short notice, it would be a shame to waste them. Shall we go in? Unless, of course, you're considering the broom shed proposal."

Ginny rolled her eyes but couldn't stop a smile from quirking the edges of her mouth. "Quidditch, please."

"That's probably for the best. Given your family's penchant for fertility, a wild broom shed romp would likely have resulted in the creation of the albino baby you were on about earlier. Now take this." Draco held out the hat gingerly with two fingers. "I can feel the used clothing germs spreading."