In Which These Two Smiles Meet

Part VI

Ginny’s head was already spinning from the wine she had drunk that evening and the thought that she was now Draco Malfoy’s girlfriend. She dubiously eyed the Portkey Lucius had conjured to bring them to Malfoy Manor, imagining herself sprawled across an impeccably polished floor. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, than Draco was at her side, a steadying arm wrapped around her waist.

Moments later, the whole party arrived without incident in the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor. Ginny tried not to gape at the gleaming marble, rich woodwork, and plush draperies. It was a struggle.

“Welcome to Malfoy Manor,” Lucius said to Ginny and Alicia before turning to his son. “Draco, would you please show our guests to their rooms? I believe the house-elves have prepared the Oriental Suite for Miss Spinnet and the Hyacinth Suite for Miss Weasley.”

“Of course, Father,” Draco answered. He offered an arm to each of the women and led them up the sweeping staircase to the second floor.

They reached the Oriental Suite first. It was a large room, with a bed piled with pillows at one end and a sitting area near the fireplace, all decorated with a dizzying array of Chinoiserie. Ginny was privately relieved that she wouldn’t have to try to sleep under the eyes of the figures adorning the wallpaper, but Alicia seemed pleased by the accommodations.

“I hope this will be suitable,” Draco said.

“It’s lovely, Malfoy,” Alicia said with a smile.

“Please call me Draco,” he said. “We’re practically roommates for the moment, after all.”

“And I’m Alicia,” she answered. She gestured towards a door next to a lacquered wardrobe. “Is that the bath?”

“Yes,” Draco answered. “There should be towels and any toiletries you might want there already. If you need anything at all, just pull the cord by the bed or the one in the bath and Seela will come immediately.”

“Thank you,” Alicia said, “but I’m sure that won’t be necessary. All I want right now is to brush my teeth and then find out just how soft that bed is. I’m exhausted!”

“We’ll leave you to it then,” Draco said, leading Ginny to the door. “Have a good night.”

“Good night!” Ginny and Alicia said at the same time.

Draco and Ginny walked the twenty yards to the Hyacinth Suite in silence. He held the door open for her, but she stopped short in the doorway.

“Oh!” Ginny said in delight. The room was even larger and more elegant than the Oriental Suite. It was done mostly in creams with accents of blues and purples and dark wood furniture that gleamed in the candlelight. The room was dominated by a painting above the fireplace of a bed of hyacinths undulating in the wind. There was also a sitting area, the most delicate four-poster bed Ginny had ever seen, and a set of French windows that appeared to lead to a balcony. Gathering her wits, Ginny finally stepped into the room.

“You like it then, I take it?” Draco asked, following Ginny into the room.

“It’s beautiful,” Ginny said, smiling widely and turning toward Draco.

Draco reached out and took one of Ginny’s hands in both of his own. “All of the same things I told Alicia hold for you as well—the toiletries, bell-pulls, and the like.”

“Thank you,” Ginny said, still smiling.

Draco started playing with Ginny’s fingers, examining each one, and rubbing them gently. “Do you have any plans for tomorrow? Any training you need to do?”

“Well, I promised my mum that I would be home for Sunday dinner, since I’ve missed so many of them lately, but other than that, I have nothing planned. We don’t train on Sundays. Gwenog is adamant about it—she says the rest keeps us fierce the rest of the week.”

“Well, then,” Draco said, stilling the motion of his hands, “will you spend the day with me? I’d like to show you the house and the grounds.”

“I’d like that,” Ginny said.

“Good,” Draco replied, gazing so intently at Ginny that she began to turn pink.

Draco took a step closer to Ginny and reached up to brush the tips of his fingers against her cheek. “I’m glad you decided to stay with us,” he said quietly.

“Me too,” Ginny said, looking away from Draco, suddenly shy.

“Ginevra,” Draco breathed, “look at me.”

There was something about his tone—some hint of longing—that compelled her to obey. When she looked up, she could see the force of the emotions in his eyes. Her breath caught.

Very, very slowly, Draco lowered his head toward Ginny’s. The kiss was feather-light, barely a brush of his lips against hers, but it left her breathless and weak-kneed.

“Oh,” Ginny gasped as Draco pulled away. She moved to step closer to him, to kiss him again, but he stepped away.

“Good night, Ginevra,” Draco whispered, reaching out to push a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Ginny’s mind was still spinning. It took a moment for her to answer, “Good night.” But by then, Draco was already gone.

***

Ginny woke the next morning as sunlight streamed in through the French windows. It only took a few seconds for her to remember where she was and why, and that she would be spending the whole day with Draco.

Ginny smiled as she stretched languidly and made her way into the bathroom. A house-elf had clearly been there before her. A set of lavender robes had been left out for her, and the gigantic bath was full of steaming, hyacinth-scented water. Ginny idly wondered what thematic scent Alicia would have in the Oriental suite.

A half hour later, Ginny was washed and dressed. A pot of hot tea was waiting for her in the sitting area when she emerged from the bath, so she poured herself a cup and stepped out onto the balcony. The wrought iron railing was intricately fashioned into a pattern of flowers and leaves, which framed a breathtaking view. Just below the balcony was a classic English garden. Ginny thought there might be a labyrinth off to the left, and was that a peacock? Beyond the garden was a stand of woods, then rolling hills extended to the horizon. She sunk into one of the chairs and began to sip her tea.

Before long, a house-elf wrapped in a dish-cloth toga appeared, startling Ginny and causing her to spill the few drops of tea still in her cup onto the balcony.

“I is sorry, Miss!” the elf squeaked, pulling her own ears distractedly.

“Not to worry, Seela,” Ginny said with a smile. “There’s no harm done. Now, why don’t you stop pulling your ears and tell me why you’ve come?”

“It is being time for breakfast, and Seela must show Miss the way.”

“Thank you very much,” Ginny said. “I hadn’t even thought about how I would find breakfast.”

Ginny was the last to arrive in the dining room, and as she entered, both Lucius and Draco rose to their feet. She blushed, unaccustomed to such courtesies.

“Good morning, Miss Weasley,” Lucius said. “I hope you slept well.”

“Extremely well, thank you,” Ginny said.

“Excellent,” Lucius said. “Please help yourself to whatever you would like.” He gestured to a sideboard loaded with every kind of breakfast food Ginny could imagine.

As it was Sunday, and she didn’t need to worry about training, Ginny piled her plate high with eggs, bacon, fried tomatoes and mushrooms, a buttered crumpet, and half of a grapefruit.

Draco watched with amusement. “Do you think you have enough to eat there, Ginevra? Don’t be shy, now.”

“I’ll need my energy if I am going to keep up with you today, won’t I?” Ginny asked with a smile.

“Oh, do you two have plans today?” Narcissa asked.

“Draco promised to show me the house and grounds before I go to my parents’ house for dinner,” Ginny answered.

“That sounds lovely!” Narcissa said. “You must show her the rose garden, Draco, and the irises, and don’t forget the music room—the light there is wonderful this time of year.”

“Of course, Mother,” Draco said.

“And what plans do you have, Miss Spinnet?” Narcissa asked.

“Oh, I’m supposed to spend the day with the Macmillans—Reginald’s Great-Aunt Gertrude is visiting, and he wants me to meet her.”

“That should be…interesting,” Lucius said with a grimace.

“Oh, Lucius,” Narcissa scolded. “Gertrude Macmillan is a perfectly nice woman.”

“Just be careful of what you keep in your pockets,” Lucius said wryly.

“You have no proof that she was the one who stole your Gurdyroot seeds, and you know it,” Narcissa chided, “so don’t go spreading rumors.”

Ginny and Alicia shared a surprised glance, and Ginny had to take a bite of her crumpet to keep from laughing.

“I’ll be careful nevertheless, Mr. Malfoy,” Alicia said with an almost straight face.

The rest of the meal passed without incident. When everyone had finished eating, Lucius and Alicia both excused themselves.

“Mother, I have something to take care of before Ginevra and I start our tour,” Draco said. “Would you mind showing her your rooms? I’ll meet you there in ten minutes or so.”

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” Narcissa said, smiling.

“Well, then,” Draco said, taking Ginny’s hand and kissing the back of it, “I will leave you in my mother’s capable hands.”

Narcissa led Ginny to the first floor and down a hallway decorated in mauves, creams, and lots of gilt. She opened a door, and gestured for Ginny to enter. “This is my office,” she said.

The room looked nothing like any office Ginny had ever seen before. There were no filing cabinets, no bookshelves, and no large, room-filling desk. Instead there was a delicate writing table, and a number of comfortable looking chairs arranged around the fireplace.

“Every woman should have an office of her own, but she should spend as little time in it as possible. Offices are just so businesslike,” Narcissa said, shuddering dramatically. “Let’s go across the hall to the sitting room. It’s so much more comfortable.”

Ginny didn’t find the sitting room to be much different than the office. It was more elaborately decorated, though, and certainly more rococo in style. She had only a moment to examine the ornately carved and gilded mantelpiece before Narcissa invited her to sit.

“I’m so happy you decided to stay with us,” Narcissa said as she sat. “It’s nice to have another female presence here. I love Lucius and Draco dearly, but they’re both such men. Sometimes I just want to talk to another woman.”

“I grew up with six brothers,” Ginny answered with a smile. “I know what you mean.”

Narcissa sighed.

“I wanted to ask if you would be willing to go on a shopping excursion while you’re here. I wasn’t sure if you knew that I was serious about it when I brought it up last night.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure what to think,” Ginny said. “But I would be happy to go with you if you really want me to. I don’t know much of anything about fashion, though.”

“That’s no matter,” Narcissa said, waving a hand dismissively. “You can learn. And it will be ever so much more fun than having Draco come along.”

“He mentioned that he goes shopping with you sometimes,” Ginny said, remembering their conversation at the ball the week before.

“Draco tries. He really does. He knows much more about fashion than most young men his age, and about decorating a home, and all the ins and outs of proper social decorum, but he doesn’t really enjoy it like I do. He pretends for my sake, but I know he’d rather be doing something else.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be as enthusiastic as you are either,” Ginny said. “But I’m willing to find out.”

Narcissa smiled. “At least you’re honest,” she said. “All I can ask is that you give it a try. Whether or not we repeat the excursion—and that will be entirely at your discretion—I will welcome the opportunity to know you better. You’ve made such an impression on Draco. I’ve never seen him this way before. It’s really quite refreshing.”

Ginny blushed. Had she really had so great an effect on Draco that his mother had noticed? She hardly knew how to respond. Luckily, Draco entered the room just then.

“Are you ready for our tour?” Draco asked, moving immediately to Ginny’s side.

“Of course,” Ginny said with a smile. She turned back to Narcissa and added, “Thank you for showing me your rooms and keeping me company, Mrs. Malfoy.”

“You’re welcome,” Narcissa said with a smile. “Enjoy your day.”

“We will,” Ginny answered.

“Thank you, Mother,” Draco said, steering Ginny out of the room.

At the end of Narcissa’s corridor, they turned right. “This is the family wing,” Draco told Ginny, “where we spend most of our time. That corridor”—he gestured to his left—“is where my father’s rooms are. I don’t have proper rooms of my own yet, outside of my suite, of course, but that’s just because I have been too lazy to find some that I like and make them over for myself.”

“You? Lazy?” Ginny asked playfully. “I never would have thought that, considering all the Quidditch matches you argued your way out of at Hogwarts!”

“It’s a stretch, I know,” Draco said, grinning. “And I’ll have you know that I never avoided a match out of laziness! I always had a very good reason!”

“Mmhm,” Ginny said. “If you consider your lack of skills a good reason.”

“Be careful, Ginevra,” Draco said as they moved into the entrance hall once more. “That sounded an awful lot like a challenge.”

“Perhaps it was,” Ginny said.

“You might not like the way it ends,” Draco warned.

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Ginny said confidently. “I could take you.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to test that one of these days,” Draco said.

“That depends on just how nice your Quidditch pitch is!” Ginny answered.

Draco changed the subject by throwing open a door and gesturing for Ginny to step inside.

Ginny gasped. It was the biggest, most elaborate ballroom she had ever seen. Gilt-framed mirrors and crystal-encrusted light fixtures alternated on the cream-colored walls, occasionally highlighted by scarlet velvet curtains. The floor was a polished expanse of intricately inlaid wood the likes of which Ginny had never seen.

“Our ball is not for several months yet,” Draco said, “but may I take this opportunity to ask you to accompany me?”

Ginny nodded, still speechless at the grandeur of the room.

“Excellent,” Draco said. “Would you like to see more of the house?”

After the ballroom, the rest of the rooms seemed to blur together for Ginny. Afterwards, she remembered the library, which seemed so full of books, she thought it might rival Hogwarts’s library, and the music room, which had elegant floor-to-ceiling leaded glass windows that left the room awash in brilliant light and hundreds of tiny rainbows.

After Ginny had seen all of the principal rooms in the house, they stepped out into the gardens she had seen from her suite’s balcony. They threaded their way through the labyrinth, through a garden of irises of all kinds, one of dahlias, and finally, one full of the most beautiful roses Ginny had ever seen. After she had exclaimed over the flowers, Draco led her to a bower with a small table set up inside.

“I thought we might have lunch here,” Draco said.

As if on cue, Ginny’s stomach growled. She smiled. “That sounds like an excellent idea,” she said.

Draco held out a chair for Ginny, and called, “Seela!” The house-elf appeared with a huge tray, piled high with food.

“It’s a good thing I’m hungry,” Ginny said, helping herself to grilled chicken, pasta with a creamy white sauce, salad, a banana, and a buttery roll.

Draco watched with amusement. “It’s a wonder that you aren’t a whale, what with all you eat,” he said.

Ginny threw her roll at him, but he dodged it, so it only hit his shoulder. “It’s a family thing, you prat,” she said. “My brother Ron can eat even more than I can, and he never seems to gain an ounce.”

“But he isn’t nearly as good looking as you are,” Draco said consolingly, as he wiped the butter off his robes.

“That’s right,” Ginny said. “You had better suck up after that comment. Really! Hasn’t your mum ever taught you how to behave around girls?”

“Yes, of course,” Draco said. “But you aren’t just any girl, Ginevra.” He paused, then grinned mischievously. “Not every girl could put food away like that!”

Ginny snorted in a most unladylike way.

When they had finished eating, Draco led the way through a small copse of trees, down a long hill, and onto the Quidditch pitch. Ginny looked around her in awe. It didn’t have nearly as much seating as the pitch at Holyhead where the Harpies played, but it was otherwise indistinguishable from a professional pitch. It was a perfect oval, the grass cropped close to the ground, with the goalposts shining on either end.

“Oh,” Ginny said with a sigh. “I can’t wait to play here.”

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to wait long,” Draco said. After a pause, he added, “You can train here whenever you want, even after you move back to Holyhead.”

“You might regret that offer,” Ginny said. “I may be here all the time.”

“How could I regret that?” Draco asked.

Ginny spent quite a while inspecting every corner of the pitch, all of the bleachers, and particularly the collection of the four centuries’ worth of top brooms the Malfoys kept in a climate-controlled room in the broomshed.

When she had finished, Draco asked, “Are you up for a bit of a walk? There’s one more place I want to show you, but it’s at the very edge of our grounds, and it takes a while to get there.”

“I think I can manage,” Ginny said with a smile. “I don’t think you’ve tired me out completely.”

Draco silently led Ginny across the grass and into the trees. Ginny saw that they were following a path of sorts: the grass they trod on had been flattened previously, but had not been worn away. Draco held stray tree branches back so she could pass freely. When the footing became uncertain, he reached out a hand to steady her. They walked for fifteen or twenty minutes before they stepped out of the trees into the dazzling sunlight.

“Oh!” Ginny said, taking in the sight before her. They were at the crest of a chalky ridge that dropped sharply in front of them. Beneath them, stretching as far as the eye could see, was the great expanse of Salisbury Plain.

“This is my favorite place,” Draco said. “This is where I come when I need to clear my head.”

“It’s beautiful,” Ginny said. She stood silently for a few minutes, appreciating the view.

After a while, she began to notice something else. “Is Stonehenge nearby?” she asked.

“A few miles,” Draco said, pointing forward and to the left. “Every now and then, when it is perfectly clear, you can catch a glimpse of it.”

“I can feel its magic,” Ginny said quietly.

Draco nodded. “That’s why I come here,” he said quietly, solemnly. “When I feel that, I understand why my ancestors chose to settle here. I feel tied to the past, and to the future.”

Ginny sat down cross-legged in the grass. Draco hovered uncertainly above her, so she patted the ground next to her. Slowly, he sat down.

Taking Draco’s hand in her own, Ginny asked, “Why did you bring me here, Draco?”

Draco shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said, looking at Ginny and then at the hills spread out before them. “I guess I just wanted you to understand.”

“To understand what?” Ginny asked gently.

“To understand me, I guess. Who I am, where I come from, why I did… the things that I did.”

“I think I understand more than you give me credit for,” Ginny said. “In the end, it all comes back to your family, doesn’t it? To history and honor and respect for magic.”

Draco turned his head quickly and gave Ginny a sharp look.

“What?” Ginny asked with a small smile. “I’m pure-blooded too, from an old family. Sure, my parents never believed in the superiority of pure blood, but they raised us very traditionally nevertheless.” She paused. “I would do anything for my family, just like you.”

“But I didn’t do those things just because the Dark Lord threatened my family,” Draco said, looking away again. “Not at first, anyway. I really believed in what he stood for, and that he would make me very powerful if I served him well.”

“He was terribly charismatic, wasn’t he?” Ginny asked. “He had an amazing ability to get other people to believe in him. I understand that too.”

“I guess you would, wouldn’t you?” Draco asked contemplatively.

Rather than answering, Ginny said, “Neither of us really had a chance against him, you know. Don’t blame yourself for falling for his lies; instead, ask yourself what you have done since the war to counteract what you did.”

“It’s not enough,” Draco said with a hollow voice. “It can never be enough.”

Ginny shrugged. “Maybe not,” she said. “But the effort is what is really important. If you make the effort, the results will eventually come.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Draco said. “You never did anything truly awful. You never tried to kill anyone.”

“Yes, I did,” Ginny answered. “I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but because of my stupidity and fear, I have to live with the fact that I nearly killed some of my best friends. I think about it every day, too. But I also try to make amends every day, by helping make the world a better place in small ways.”

“Hmpf,” Draco said. “You’re so good and pure, though, that it must come easily to you.”

Ginny laughed. “Some days it does,” she said, smiling. “And on others, the last thing I want to do is be friendly. But I try, even then.”

“Do you really think it is as simple as that?” Draco asked.

“I have to,” Ginny said simply.

They sat together quietly, contemplating the view. Eventually, Ginny turned to Draco with a rueful smile. “Thank you for the lovely day,” she said, “but I think we had best head back. My parents will be expecting me soon for dinner.”

“Of course,” Draco said. He stood and held out a hand to help Ginny to her feet. They looked once more at Salisbury Plain, then turned back towards the house, walking hand in hand the whole way.