Ginny arrived at the Fred and George's local pitch on the Friday afternoon, the day before her final professional match of the season. Her own practice with the Falcons had ended early, so that the team could rest. As a reward to themselves, she and Oliver headed over to watch her brothers play.
She was hoping that after the practice, everyone would go out to dinner to celebrate the end of their respective seasons. It had been the most incredible summer of her life and she was looking forward to celebrating with her brothers. However, guilt gnawed at her that she had avoided making plans with Draco for the afternoon. He'd wanted to be here, to see her play, and she'd lied to him...again. She tried to console herself that it would be better next week, after her professional season ended, but it still bothered her that she'd put him off.
She was hoping that, during dinner, she could bring up the topic of Draco to her brothers, as well as ask them for help in how to deal with outing Francine.
Each time she thought about it, she could only imagine how Draco might react. He was so sensitive to propriety in his public appearance that she knew he'd be extremely unhappy with the situation. She felt that the scenario could easily appear to the public that she was using him to further her career. Her only hope was that things between them had progressed enough that he might understand.
As she watched her brothers fly around the pitch with their teammates, she chatted idly with Oliver, and eventually Camille stopped by.
"I didn't know you were into Quidditch," Ginny greeted her friend teasingly.
"Well, I don't mind watching although I'm not a player like you, Ginny. Besides, I am forced to support my boyfriend," she joked while motioning to George. "It's quite the hardship."
Oliver laughed and muttered some comment about women and relationships as he leaned back on the bench and closed his eyes. Ginny began to relax. Tonight, she was hoping to have all of them helping her work out her mess, and she knew they'd want to help. As the match ended, Fred and George came over to greet their audience.
"Oh, look, Fred, the big time Quidditch players came to watch us play!"
"They're just jealous and want to see how the other half lives," Fred responded.
"Will you two stop it!" Camille teased, smacking George playfully.
"Hello, love," George greeted her with a quick kiss.
"And you teased me about not saying anything about my boyfriend," Ginny blurted out to Camille. "And might I remind you, my friend, that you kept the fact that you were seeing my brother quiet from me for almost three months!"
"Point taken," her friend responded cheekily.
"What? We know she's seeing someone," George said, motioning to Ginny. "Don't tell me she let on who it is?" George asked, directing his question at Camille.
"I'm sworn to secrecy," Camille responded with a saucy smile.
"I'll get it out of you, love," George teased his girlfriend.
She giggled. The others responded with a variety of rolled eyes, and over-exaggerated groans.
"Hey, Oliver," George said, as he turned his gaze to Oliver,who was still lazing back on the bench, carelessly soaking up the warm sunshine.
"Yes..." he said, he said lazily, his eyes still closed.
"I've, well, we've got a new broom for the shop, and I was hoping to ask you to test fly it for us," he said. Fred just stood there nodding.
As Ginny watched, this sent alarms off in her head. The twins never asked for something like that without some sort of plot in mind.
"Why do you need me to test it?" Oliver asked, slightly confused with the request.
"It's got a charm on it to write a message, and we just want to make sure we've got all the bugs tweaked out of it before we start selling. Fred and I need to be on the ground to see if it's working properly."
"Sure, mate. Hand it over."
He casually got up and took the offered broom before Ginny had a chance to stop him, or at least warn him.
Ginny had seen that look in her brothers' eyes too many times. Anything could happen. She tried to interrupt and started to say, "Oliver, you might..."
"S'alright Gin," Oliver called back as he took off. "It will just be a few minutes, and we'll get you to dinner early."
She watched in horror as Oliver quickly mounted the broom and took to the sky before she could so much as finish her sentence. Almost immediately, the broom took off with a demonized mind of its own, blasting an array of bright multi-hued sparks and soaring at least a hundred feet into the air. As they all watched Oliver clutch the broom tightly, Ginny could see that he had no control over the device whatsoever. It spun madly, jerking up and down in abrupt twists and turns, smoke and sparks trailing behind.
She could hear Oliver cursing the entire time; all she could do was watch in fascinated horror.
Finally, after close to a minute of sheer terror, the broom darted sharply back toward the ground, flinging its rider off about ten feet above the ground. Oliver tumbled to the ground grunting in pain, the wind knocked out of him.
Both Ginny and Camille screeched and ran to see if he was all right.
"Looks like it still needs a little bit of adjustment, George."
"You're right, Fred. It takes away from the overall effect, since nobody seems to be reading the message."
"I would say so," his twin agreed.
Ginny turned to give them a dirty look as she and Camille helped a slightly battered but still functional Oliver to his feet. Both girls turned to coo sympathies to him.
"Damn, Fred. If I'd have known about the attention he'd be getting, I would have ridden the thing myself."
"Sometimes life is simply unjust."
They came back to the stands, Oliver limping, with the girls on either side of him, all three glaring at the twins.
"So, what do you think?" George asked innocently.
"I think it needs some work," Oliver growled at them.
"The message looks good though," Fred said, ignoring them both and staring up at the sky.
All five then turned their gazes up to the message.
It said: CAMILLE, WILL YOU MARRY ME?
Camille turned to George and soundly smacked him in the arm.
"That's not looking like a yes, George," Fred stated.
"That's your idea of a proposal?" she demanded.
George tried to look innocent and Ginny found herself stifling a giggle. She probably would have laughed outright, except that it would have been rude since Oliver was in pain.
"Well, I was supposed to be standing here with my arm around you while it all got written, and then I was going to give you this." He held out the box holding an engagement ring.
Camille gasped.
"If I wasn't so mad at you..." she stammered.
"What?" he asked, sounding as innocent as one of the twins could ever possibly manage.
Ginny nudged her friend, causing Camille to look up at George with a resigned smile. He was incorrigible, and that's what she loved about him. Ginny sighed as her friend finally smiled and stuttered a quiet, "Yes."
"Well, all right then." He grinned and hugged his new fiancée. Fred started to silently cheer as he grinned stupidly at both Ginny and Oliver.
With Camille's face buried against George's shirt, he pulled her into warm embrace. Camille gave a muffled response, "But I'm still mad at you for almost killing Oliver."
Anyone who was going to fall for one of the twins, certainly needed an enormous amount of patience, Ginny observed. It appeared that Camille possessed such a gift.
Oliver grunted and clapped George on the shoulder. "I'd be happier for you, mate, but I'm going to go see if I can find someplace to clean up after all that."
"Sorry for the rough ride," Fred added. "But you've helped enormously for us to improve the thing."
"Yeah, yeah," Oliver muttered as he limped away.
Giving both of her brothers a look of utter exasperation, Ginny turned and hurried after Oliver. She caught up with him a few steps away and reached her arm around his waist, allowing him to lean on her as he favored his right knee.
"Good thing I'm not playing tomorrow," he said.
"I should have warned you. I have more stories than I can count about some of their experiments. You knew them in school. You should have known better."
"You're right. For some reason, I thought they'd mellowed over the years."
"No, they've just gotten better at it, is all," she said as she smiled.
He sat down on a bench and she took out her wand to cast healing charms on his injured knee and his bruised arm, and a few lacerations. She sat next to him and they chatted amiably for a few minutes.
"So, dinner tonight, we talk about what we are going to do about Francine?"
"Yes. I can't keep up the charade much longer. In the off season, and with you coaching, I think it would work out and not make too much press."
"You want to continue playing," he stated.
"I have to try. I love it too much. I just don't know how to get out of this mess."
Oliver put his arm around her and gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head. "It will be all right, Gin. We'll work it out eventually. I'm going to go get cleaned up, and we'll go to dinner, yeah?"
She nodded and smiled at him tiredly as he got up to leave. "Thanks, Oliver."
She sat for a few minutes, staring at the pitch as the twins and Camille left the area. She wanted to be happy for her brother and friend, but the weight of what she needed to do in her own life worried her. The sound of someone clearing their throat loudly made Ginny look up.
Draco was leaning against the wall of the pitch entrance, arms crossed, looking at her coldly. Her initial reaction was that she was happy to see him, but registering his anger, she felt confused.
"Draco, what are you doing here?" She realized, as soon as the words left her lips, that his presence there should have been obvious, nevertheless, she sat and stared at him stupidly after the words left her mouth.
“That's an odd question, since you said that you were too busy to be here today when I asked to join you."
He was angry, and she had a cold feeling that he had a right to be. She stared at him, fear settling over her. Dumbfounded, yes, that was the term she was looking for to describe her reaction but, putting a term to it didn't help her situation.
"You are an extremely good actress, Ginevra," he said, without waiting for her to respond.
Normally, she loved it when he said her name. He had always made her given name sound so smooth and formal, like honey. But now, something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
He continued, "It's only a morbid sense of curiosity that is keeping me here. I just want to know why you've been lying to me."
"What?" She felt the color drain from her face.
"You heard what I said. You said you would be working late. Imagine my surprise when I stopped by Tinkerton's office and learned that not only were you not working this afternoon, but that you haven't been there in months.”
“Oh, no,” was all she could say as her hand flew to her mouth.
He continued, his fury seeming to grow colder as she made no effort to deny his accusation. “Fortunately, your ex-coworkers seemed to know that you would be here, though they seemed to imply that you were with Camille."
He paced, somewhat dramatically, then turned to her. “I'm not stupid, Ginevra, but I have let you play me for a fool."
“I... I...” she started to say.
He looked at her, awaiting her answer, the expression on his face frozen and hard.
“I don't work at Tinkerton's anymore, that's true. I got a new job,” she admitted somewhat stupidly.
He said nothing.
“It was something I was planning to tell you about, but...” She didn't know how to say it. She paused, looking around frantically, as if the proper words would somehow appear in the air.
The long pause was apparently something he had no patience for, as he stood up and gave a hostile glance in the direction of the locker rooms where Oliver had recently gone.
He looked at her in disgust, the long pause settling between them like an almost physical barrier. Her fear kept her from saying anything to break the impasse.
He finally broke the silence, the fury on his features telling her that all her fears had come true. “Is that all you have to say? Goodbye, Ginevra." He turned and started walking away.
Realization dawned on her about the true source of his anger. He'd seen her with Oliver just now, his arm around her. He'd been jealous of Oliver since he'd seen the rose from him three months ago. She hadn't missed his occasional questions about her friend when she'd mentioned him over the summer.
If she let Draco leave like this, she knew she was never going to see him again. He'd never believe her. That was the moment that she knew, for certain, that this wasn't just a summer romance and that she really, truly would be heartbroken if she no longer had him in her life. It was time for her to confess the truth.
She got up and ran after him.
He was near the changing rooms when Ginny finally caught him. "Draco, please stop. Please."
He stopped, but continued to face the exit of the pitch, refusing to look at her and saying nothing.
She said the first thoughts that came to her, "I don't know what to say. You said we could talk about anything, and I need to explain. I need you to hear me out."
"There's nothing to explain. Now if you’ll excuse me," he said formally, as he began to step away.
"It's not what you are thinking!" she blurted out.
He finally turned to her and his gaze was emotionless. "What exactly am I thinking?"
"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure that it's not the truth, and if you're going to be angry with me, I'd at least like it to be for the right reasons."
It was that kind of ludicrous statement that had led him to fancy this odd little witch from the very beginning. Despite his better judgment, he decided to finish the argument, rather than walk away. If anything, it would be interesting, as everything about her seemed to be.
He pulled her into the changing room, so that their argument wouldn't be on public display.
"All right, Ginevra. I suggest you explain."
"I told you, I had to work. Most of my work is on weekends you know." This was true. She'd worked on the Falcons, and they did work on weekends. She didn't know why she didn't say the truth outright, and the half truth only angered him further.
"No, I don't know. I think we've already established that you aren't working for Tinkerton's right now, and haven't been there for the last two months."
"I can explain..." she started to say. "I sort of got hired for a different job, but... I couldn't tell you about it."
"Like hell you did," he snarled. "I told you that don't like being taken for a fool, Ginevra."
She cringed at his angry words. She'd been lying for so long that it had become habit. She was suddenly shocked to find that telling the truth was more difficult than she'd imagined. "I.... I'm not trying to do that," she said, feeling panic.
She had to start talking, but there was such a mess that she wasn't sure where to begin. Much of it had started before she'd begun her relationship with him. Worse, once he knew the truth, she was quite certain that she'd lose her other love, which was playing on the Falcons.
"Then, tell me!" The anger etched on his face seemed to tell her that he might be listening, but he would be anything but understanding.
She looked into his eyes, desperately searching for the right words. Her silence left him an opening to lead the conversation.
"Let's start with all the time you seem to be spending with Oliver Wood," he started.
'"There's nothing between me and Oliver. We're just friends. He's a friend of my brothers'."
"And the flowers I've seen you get from him?"
"The first was congratulations. And the second, yes, he asked me out, but I turned him down because I wasn't interested in him. I was only interested in seeing you.”
"Yes, you seem to be just thrilled to let the world know that you're seeing me. So thrilled that you have yet to come out in public with me for a simple Quidditch practice. Your excuses are getting rather weak, Weasley."
"It's not what you think, I swear. I'm not seeing anyone else."
"No, Ginevra, maybe you aren't but the truth of the matter is that you are too stuck on your high and mighty pedestal with St. Potter to be associated with the likes of me. Aren't you?"
Again, her heart dropped, uncertain of his logic, but sure that she'd left things far too long and allowed his imagination to run amok. "No! Draco, please, don't think that!"
"I don't want to hear it,” he responded. He started pacing back and forth in the small room, running his hand through his hair, and gave a bitter laugh. “I can't believe this. I can't believe that you've been lying to me all along. Here I am with the bad reputation, and yet … you know what the funny thing is? Ever since I met you this past spring, I've been nothing but completely honest with you."
She'd been caught, and something in her became just a little bit desperate. She wasn't going to get through this with half truths, and as is common with someone caught in a lie, she tried to at least deflect some of the blame.
"All right, you've been honest. Honest about using me to improve your reputation. Is that the only reason you even want me here?"
"Do not bring that into this. If I truly gave a crap about that, there are plenty of other witches out there that would be happy to fill that role. That's a low blow, Weasley, and you know it."
She started to cry. He was right, and she felt ashamed. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear."
Her tears had no effect on him, if anything, it seemed to inflame his temper again. "Swear to St. Potter. I don't care! You and your bloody family think you are so high and mighty, and the evil Malfoys are out to corrupt their innocent little girl. The irony of it is that you've been the one who's been lying and scheming right along. My mother accepted you as a daughter. Did you know that? Did you know how hard that was for her? My father actually apologized to you, which may not mean a lot to your kind, but it was like ripping out a piece of his soul! Apparently, you don't put any value into that either."
"I had a reason!"
"What could possibly have had you lying to me for all this time, Ginevra? What could possibly have been so important that you felt a burning need to humiliate me like this?"
She could barely speak, tears were running down her face freely and she was desperately looking into his eyes for the tiniest hint of understanding. There was none.
It was time for the charade to end.
"I'm Francine."
"You're what?"
"I am Francine Miller. I've been using a disguise and I fly on the Falcons every week. That's why I can't sit in the stands with you at the match. And that's why I've been away from working at Tinkertons for the last few months."
Well, at least it got his attention.
His voice dropped to an unusually calm tone of disbelief. "Why in Merlin's name would you do something like that?"
"It all started in June, before the ball. We had a lot of reasons, mostly it was to hide me from being a Weasley. Oliver thought that I'd be judged more fairly in the trials if I was more anonymous."
"Oliver," he growled.
Apparently, she became fully aware, he still harbored some jealously and suspicion over her relationship with the former Falcons Keeper.
She responded passionately, "Yes, Oliver. He and Fred and George have been friends for years. He wanted to work on some coaching skills with our team, and after a while encouraged me to go professional. I swear to you, he's only a friend."
"And after you made the team?"
"I had started seeing you," she said, her voice already becoming hoarse in desperation. "I was falling for you, and it didn't seem like a good time to bring it up. I didn't want you to think I was using you to secure my spot on the team. I mean, you had talked so much about propriety and how important the team was for your image...."
"That you didn't want it to come across that I was favoring you because of our relationship," he finished, sounding far more calm.
She nodded, feeling some sort of relief that he might understand. "And I was afraid that you might think that I was only seeing you because I wanted to stay on the team."
"You're good enough that it probably wouldn't have been a factor."
"I didn't want to risk it. I see how you are when you think someone is trying to take advantage of you. It was just easier, because everyone loved Frankie, and I didn't have to deal with the issues."
Issues. With a clarity born of anger, he suddenly realized that she truly did not trust him. She didn't see him as someone with whom she could share such a secret, and didn't trust him to do the right thing. It cut into him like a knife.
"And you didn't think, for three months, that there wouldn't be any issue around you living a double life?" His voice had hardened again. She didn't know how to continue and she saw his temper finally reach its limit.
"I don't think that's the whole reason, Weasley," he said calmly. Too calmly. She could tell that he was seething with anger.
"But it is, I swear."
He stopped her with a hard look.
Obviously, he'd been becoming more suspicious of her excuses over the last few weeks and, somehow, he had come to his own conclusions. She once again felt fear run through her.
He stood, and she saw a look on his face that she hadn't seen in years, and had profoundly believed that she'd never see again. He sneered, looking down his long, aristocratic nose at her, as if she was something foul that had stuck on his shoe.
"I'm sick of the lies, I'm sick of the deception, and I am completely, utterly sick of your filthy attitude that for some reason, because you sided with St. Potter, that you are somehow better than me. I've treated you extremely well, Ginevra. Obviously, it gave you some sort of opinion that you're better than what you came from. No more."
She felt her heart stick in her throat. He was dumping her. After all this, he was going to dump her, and she wanted to say anything to make him change his mind.
"Draco, no, please..."
"You'll play the match tomorrow, but it's your last game. As I told you before, I work very hard to maintain a reputation right now, and I can't have you scandalizing my team. For all I know, you've been sleeping with the whole lot of them."
The comment cut deeply. She knew he had only said it out of anger, but it hurt anyway. She was openly sobbing. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Draco, please! I am so sorry! I was going to figure out how to tell you after tomorrow's match."
He seemed to think that she was more upset about losing her spot on the team rather than the fact that she still had not addressed the issue of being willing to tell her family and make it public that they were seeing each other.
"Yes, think of your Quidditch career. Get out of my sight, Weasley, before I say or do something that I'll regret."
There was nothing more she could say. He'd shut down from her, and the cold bully she'd known so many years ago at school had returned. Her heart broke. She left the changing room — actually, stumbled was a better term — but he didn't look up from the spot on the floor he'd been focusing on.
Oliver Wood watched the crying girl leave and stepped out from the wall of lockers on the far side of the changing room.
Draco glared at him.
"You're lucky you still have a job right now, so I don't want to hear anything from you." Draco growled menacingly at the man he viewed as a competitor.
"She loves you, " Oliver responded, not knowing what else to say to the other man.
"Stuff it. You can have the little tart. I'm done with her."
"That really is exactly how it happened. She didn't mean any harm." Oliver felt a need to explain, having known Ginny's dilemma all along.
"You've been listening this whole time?"
"Didn't mean to, but there was no other way out from behind there without being seen."
"Get out, before I fire you too." With that, Draco turned away. Oliver walked sadly to the exit, hearing Draco pound his fist into one of the lockers.
Oliver swallowed his guilt. It was partly his fault, for encouraging Ginny to try out under an alias in the first place. He should have seen something like this coming. As he reached the door, he turned back, thinking there had to be something more he could say to the blond man sulking back in the room, but he held his tongue as he saw what appeared to be tears freely rolling down the other man's cheeks.
- x - x -
Ginny wandered for what seemed like hours before she felt calm enough to Apparate home. Once again, she had failed miserably in her attempt at a relationship, and she felt broken and hollow inside.
As she arrived at the Burrow, she was grateful that her parents had gone out for the evening. She wasn't looking forward to telling her mum about today's events. A part of her debated about keeping the entire fiasco quiet for a while, but keeping secrets had gotten her into this mess in the first place. She decided that it was time to stop that behavior. Nevertheless, it would be easier to give them the whole truth tomorrow, after the match.
Walking through the empty house, she started to sob again.
"Hey, sis, I didn't expect you home so early."
It was Fred. She looked up to see him descending the stairs and silently cursed the fact that she wasn't as alone as she'd hoped to be.
"I thought you were going to go out with George tonight," she said, as she turned away and pretended to be fascinated by the cover of Witch Weekly on the coffee table.
"Nah, he seemed to think that having me tag along was going to cramp his style. Can you believe it?"
She tried to chuckle, but the sob that she'd held in her throat seem to come out on its own.
Her lovable brother was by her side in an instant.
"Hey, sis, what's wrong?" he said, as he wrapped her up in a hug. She only cried harder.
It felt good, just to have her brother hold her as she released all her sorrow. Somewhere between hiccups and sniffles, she soaked his shirt with tears and told him about the whole miserable mess.
He even offered to find a way to sneak Draco a bunch of their less successful joke shop products.
"No, don't hex him. It's not his fault. It's mine. I'm the one who lied and hid the truth from him. He has every reason to be angry with me." It was far worse than that. Draco's accusations had been more than partially correct.
"He'll get over it, Gin. Just give him some time."
"Even if he did, it wouldn't work. I've heard his opinions, he wouldn't let me play on the team anyway. I'd have to choose one or the other, and I can't do that," she explained sadly.
They talked well into the evening. By the end of it all, her brother tucked her into bed, just like he'd done when she was a little girl. He kissed her on the forehead, and sat by her bedside until she fell asleep.
As she fell into her exhausted sleep, she knew she'd finally come to her decision.
- x - x -
When Molly and Arthur came home that night, they were surprised to find Fred donning his cloak in preparation to leave.
“Isn't it a bit late to be going out, son?” Arthur asked him.
“Just realized I left a potion brewing at the store and I need to add something to it before it explodes,” he replied almost smoothly. He was quite accustomed to telling his parents little white lies. He was grateful that he hadn't lost his touch over the years.
“All right, dear, try not to be too late,” Molly said, looking mildly concerned after he'd mentioned the possibility of an explosion. After a short pause where she obviously was looking to change the conversation, she asked, “Is Ginny home yet?”
“She's asleep. Seems like she had a bit of a long day,” Fred replied quickly, hoping his parents wouldn't wake her. He didn't want her to know that he was going out. If she suspected his motives, she'd likely hex him into next week.
His mother nodded as she shed her cloak and hung it up. “I'll let her be. I'm sure we'll get to talk in the morning. I'm a bit tired myself,” she said as she let out a small yawn.
“Don't wait up for me, Mum. I was thinking I might try to meet up with George after I'm done,” he lied again.
“No pranks, dear,” she said, as if she fully expected that it was the real reason he was going out in the first place.
He smiled, and moved out the door. He was partly responsible for the mess surrounding the creation of Francine, and now his baby sister was in tears as a result of it all. He was going to go to find the man responsible for his sister's tears, and make sure that he got the entire story, even if it took all night.
- x -
She was hoping that after the practice, everyone would go out to dinner to celebrate the end of their respective seasons. It had been the most incredible summer of her life and she was looking forward to celebrating with her brothers. However, guilt gnawed at her that she had avoided making plans with Draco for the afternoon. He'd wanted to be here, to see her play, and she'd lied to him...again. She tried to console herself that it would be better next week, after her professional season ended, but it still bothered her that she'd put him off.
She was hoping that, during dinner, she could bring up the topic of Draco to her brothers, as well as ask them for help in how to deal with outing Francine.
Each time she thought about it, she could only imagine how Draco might react. He was so sensitive to propriety in his public appearance that she knew he'd be extremely unhappy with the situation. She felt that the scenario could easily appear to the public that she was using him to further her career. Her only hope was that things between them had progressed enough that he might understand.
As she watched her brothers fly around the pitch with their teammates, she chatted idly with Oliver, and eventually Camille stopped by.
"I didn't know you were into Quidditch," Ginny greeted her friend teasingly.
"Well, I don't mind watching although I'm not a player like you, Ginny. Besides, I am forced to support my boyfriend," she joked while motioning to George. "It's quite the hardship."
Oliver laughed and muttered some comment about women and relationships as he leaned back on the bench and closed his eyes. Ginny began to relax. Tonight, she was hoping to have all of them helping her work out her mess, and she knew they'd want to help. As the match ended, Fred and George came over to greet their audience.
"Oh, look, Fred, the big time Quidditch players came to watch us play!"
"They're just jealous and want to see how the other half lives," Fred responded.
"Will you two stop it!" Camille teased, smacking George playfully.
"Hello, love," George greeted her with a quick kiss.
"And you teased me about not saying anything about my boyfriend," Ginny blurted out to Camille. "And might I remind you, my friend, that you kept the fact that you were seeing my brother quiet from me for almost three months!"
"Point taken," her friend responded cheekily.
"What? We know she's seeing someone," George said, motioning to Ginny. "Don't tell me she let on who it is?" George asked, directing his question at Camille.
"I'm sworn to secrecy," Camille responded with a saucy smile.
"I'll get it out of you, love," George teased his girlfriend.
She giggled. The others responded with a variety of rolled eyes, and over-exaggerated groans.
"Hey, Oliver," George said, as he turned his gaze to Oliver,who was still lazing back on the bench, carelessly soaking up the warm sunshine.
"Yes..." he said, he said lazily, his eyes still closed.
"I've, well, we've got a new broom for the shop, and I was hoping to ask you to test fly it for us," he said. Fred just stood there nodding.
As Ginny watched, this sent alarms off in her head. The twins never asked for something like that without some sort of plot in mind.
"Why do you need me to test it?" Oliver asked, slightly confused with the request.
"It's got a charm on it to write a message, and we just want to make sure we've got all the bugs tweaked out of it before we start selling. Fred and I need to be on the ground to see if it's working properly."
"Sure, mate. Hand it over."
He casually got up and took the offered broom before Ginny had a chance to stop him, or at least warn him.
Ginny had seen that look in her brothers' eyes too many times. Anything could happen. She tried to interrupt and started to say, "Oliver, you might..."
"S'alright Gin," Oliver called back as he took off. "It will just be a few minutes, and we'll get you to dinner early."
She watched in horror as Oliver quickly mounted the broom and took to the sky before she could so much as finish her sentence. Almost immediately, the broom took off with a demonized mind of its own, blasting an array of bright multi-hued sparks and soaring at least a hundred feet into the air. As they all watched Oliver clutch the broom tightly, Ginny could see that he had no control over the device whatsoever. It spun madly, jerking up and down in abrupt twists and turns, smoke and sparks trailing behind.
She could hear Oliver cursing the entire time; all she could do was watch in fascinated horror.
Finally, after close to a minute of sheer terror, the broom darted sharply back toward the ground, flinging its rider off about ten feet above the ground. Oliver tumbled to the ground grunting in pain, the wind knocked out of him.
Both Ginny and Camille screeched and ran to see if he was all right.
"Looks like it still needs a little bit of adjustment, George."
"You're right, Fred. It takes away from the overall effect, since nobody seems to be reading the message."
"I would say so," his twin agreed.
Ginny turned to give them a dirty look as she and Camille helped a slightly battered but still functional Oliver to his feet. Both girls turned to coo sympathies to him.
"Damn, Fred. If I'd have known about the attention he'd be getting, I would have ridden the thing myself."
"Sometimes life is simply unjust."
They came back to the stands, Oliver limping, with the girls on either side of him, all three glaring at the twins.
"So, what do you think?" George asked innocently.
"I think it needs some work," Oliver growled at them.
"The message looks good though," Fred said, ignoring them both and staring up at the sky.
All five then turned their gazes up to the message.
It said: CAMILLE, WILL YOU MARRY ME?
Camille turned to George and soundly smacked him in the arm.
"That's not looking like a yes, George," Fred stated.
"That's your idea of a proposal?" she demanded.
George tried to look innocent and Ginny found herself stifling a giggle. She probably would have laughed outright, except that it would have been rude since Oliver was in pain.
"Well, I was supposed to be standing here with my arm around you while it all got written, and then I was going to give you this." He held out the box holding an engagement ring.
Camille gasped.
"If I wasn't so mad at you..." she stammered.
"What?" he asked, sounding as innocent as one of the twins could ever possibly manage.
Ginny nudged her friend, causing Camille to look up at George with a resigned smile. He was incorrigible, and that's what she loved about him. Ginny sighed as her friend finally smiled and stuttered a quiet, "Yes."
"Well, all right then." He grinned and hugged his new fiancée. Fred started to silently cheer as he grinned stupidly at both Ginny and Oliver.
With Camille's face buried against George's shirt, he pulled her into warm embrace. Camille gave a muffled response, "But I'm still mad at you for almost killing Oliver."
Anyone who was going to fall for one of the twins, certainly needed an enormous amount of patience, Ginny observed. It appeared that Camille possessed such a gift.
Oliver grunted and clapped George on the shoulder. "I'd be happier for you, mate, but I'm going to go see if I can find someplace to clean up after all that."
"Sorry for the rough ride," Fred added. "But you've helped enormously for us to improve the thing."
"Yeah, yeah," Oliver muttered as he limped away.
Giving both of her brothers a look of utter exasperation, Ginny turned and hurried after Oliver. She caught up with him a few steps away and reached her arm around his waist, allowing him to lean on her as he favored his right knee.
"Good thing I'm not playing tomorrow," he said.
"I should have warned you. I have more stories than I can count about some of their experiments. You knew them in school. You should have known better."
"You're right. For some reason, I thought they'd mellowed over the years."
"No, they've just gotten better at it, is all," she said as she smiled.
He sat down on a bench and she took out her wand to cast healing charms on his injured knee and his bruised arm, and a few lacerations. She sat next to him and they chatted amiably for a few minutes.
"So, dinner tonight, we talk about what we are going to do about Francine?"
"Yes. I can't keep up the charade much longer. In the off season, and with you coaching, I think it would work out and not make too much press."
"You want to continue playing," he stated.
"I have to try. I love it too much. I just don't know how to get out of this mess."
Oliver put his arm around her and gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head. "It will be all right, Gin. We'll work it out eventually. I'm going to go get cleaned up, and we'll go to dinner, yeah?"
She nodded and smiled at him tiredly as he got up to leave. "Thanks, Oliver."
She sat for a few minutes, staring at the pitch as the twins and Camille left the area. She wanted to be happy for her brother and friend, but the weight of what she needed to do in her own life worried her. The sound of someone clearing their throat loudly made Ginny look up.
Draco was leaning against the wall of the pitch entrance, arms crossed, looking at her coldly. Her initial reaction was that she was happy to see him, but registering his anger, she felt confused.
"Draco, what are you doing here?" She realized, as soon as the words left her lips, that his presence there should have been obvious, nevertheless, she sat and stared at him stupidly after the words left her mouth.
“That's an odd question, since you said that you were too busy to be here today when I asked to join you."
He was angry, and she had a cold feeling that he had a right to be. She stared at him, fear settling over her. Dumbfounded, yes, that was the term she was looking for to describe her reaction but, putting a term to it didn't help her situation.
"You are an extremely good actress, Ginevra," he said, without waiting for her to respond.
Normally, she loved it when he said her name. He had always made her given name sound so smooth and formal, like honey. But now, something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
He continued, "It's only a morbid sense of curiosity that is keeping me here. I just want to know why you've been lying to me."
"What?" She felt the color drain from her face.
"You heard what I said. You said you would be working late. Imagine my surprise when I stopped by Tinkerton's office and learned that not only were you not working this afternoon, but that you haven't been there in months.”
“Oh, no,” was all she could say as her hand flew to her mouth.
He continued, his fury seeming to grow colder as she made no effort to deny his accusation. “Fortunately, your ex-coworkers seemed to know that you would be here, though they seemed to imply that you were with Camille."
He paced, somewhat dramatically, then turned to her. “I'm not stupid, Ginevra, but I have let you play me for a fool."
“I... I...” she started to say.
He looked at her, awaiting her answer, the expression on his face frozen and hard.
“I don't work at Tinkerton's anymore, that's true. I got a new job,” she admitted somewhat stupidly.
He said nothing.
“It was something I was planning to tell you about, but...” She didn't know how to say it. She paused, looking around frantically, as if the proper words would somehow appear in the air.
The long pause was apparently something he had no patience for, as he stood up and gave a hostile glance in the direction of the locker rooms where Oliver had recently gone.
He looked at her in disgust, the long pause settling between them like an almost physical barrier. Her fear kept her from saying anything to break the impasse.
He finally broke the silence, the fury on his features telling her that all her fears had come true. “Is that all you have to say? Goodbye, Ginevra." He turned and started walking away.
Realization dawned on her about the true source of his anger. He'd seen her with Oliver just now, his arm around her. He'd been jealous of Oliver since he'd seen the rose from him three months ago. She hadn't missed his occasional questions about her friend when she'd mentioned him over the summer.
If she let Draco leave like this, she knew she was never going to see him again. He'd never believe her. That was the moment that she knew, for certain, that this wasn't just a summer romance and that she really, truly would be heartbroken if she no longer had him in her life. It was time for her to confess the truth.
She got up and ran after him.
He was near the changing rooms when Ginny finally caught him. "Draco, please stop. Please."
He stopped, but continued to face the exit of the pitch, refusing to look at her and saying nothing.
She said the first thoughts that came to her, "I don't know what to say. You said we could talk about anything, and I need to explain. I need you to hear me out."
"There's nothing to explain. Now if you’ll excuse me," he said formally, as he began to step away.
"It's not what you are thinking!" she blurted out.
He finally turned to her and his gaze was emotionless. "What exactly am I thinking?"
"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure that it's not the truth, and if you're going to be angry with me, I'd at least like it to be for the right reasons."
It was that kind of ludicrous statement that had led him to fancy this odd little witch from the very beginning. Despite his better judgment, he decided to finish the argument, rather than walk away. If anything, it would be interesting, as everything about her seemed to be.
He pulled her into the changing room, so that their argument wouldn't be on public display.
"All right, Ginevra. I suggest you explain."
"I told you, I had to work. Most of my work is on weekends you know." This was true. She'd worked on the Falcons, and they did work on weekends. She didn't know why she didn't say the truth outright, and the half truth only angered him further.
"No, I don't know. I think we've already established that you aren't working for Tinkerton's right now, and haven't been there for the last two months."
"I can explain..." she started to say. "I sort of got hired for a different job, but... I couldn't tell you about it."
"Like hell you did," he snarled. "I told you that don't like being taken for a fool, Ginevra."
She cringed at his angry words. She'd been lying for so long that it had become habit. She was suddenly shocked to find that telling the truth was more difficult than she'd imagined. "I.... I'm not trying to do that," she said, feeling panic.
She had to start talking, but there was such a mess that she wasn't sure where to begin. Much of it had started before she'd begun her relationship with him. Worse, once he knew the truth, she was quite certain that she'd lose her other love, which was playing on the Falcons.
"Then, tell me!" The anger etched on his face seemed to tell her that he might be listening, but he would be anything but understanding.
She looked into his eyes, desperately searching for the right words. Her silence left him an opening to lead the conversation.
"Let's start with all the time you seem to be spending with Oliver Wood," he started.
'"There's nothing between me and Oliver. We're just friends. He's a friend of my brothers'."
"And the flowers I've seen you get from him?"
"The first was congratulations. And the second, yes, he asked me out, but I turned him down because I wasn't interested in him. I was only interested in seeing you.”
"Yes, you seem to be just thrilled to let the world know that you're seeing me. So thrilled that you have yet to come out in public with me for a simple Quidditch practice. Your excuses are getting rather weak, Weasley."
"It's not what you think, I swear. I'm not seeing anyone else."
"No, Ginevra, maybe you aren't but the truth of the matter is that you are too stuck on your high and mighty pedestal with St. Potter to be associated with the likes of me. Aren't you?"
Again, her heart dropped, uncertain of his logic, but sure that she'd left things far too long and allowed his imagination to run amok. "No! Draco, please, don't think that!"
"I don't want to hear it,” he responded. He started pacing back and forth in the small room, running his hand through his hair, and gave a bitter laugh. “I can't believe this. I can't believe that you've been lying to me all along. Here I am with the bad reputation, and yet … you know what the funny thing is? Ever since I met you this past spring, I've been nothing but completely honest with you."
She'd been caught, and something in her became just a little bit desperate. She wasn't going to get through this with half truths, and as is common with someone caught in a lie, she tried to at least deflect some of the blame.
"All right, you've been honest. Honest about using me to improve your reputation. Is that the only reason you even want me here?"
"Do not bring that into this. If I truly gave a crap about that, there are plenty of other witches out there that would be happy to fill that role. That's a low blow, Weasley, and you know it."
She started to cry. He was right, and she felt ashamed. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear."
Her tears had no effect on him, if anything, it seemed to inflame his temper again. "Swear to St. Potter. I don't care! You and your bloody family think you are so high and mighty, and the evil Malfoys are out to corrupt their innocent little girl. The irony of it is that you've been the one who's been lying and scheming right along. My mother accepted you as a daughter. Did you know that? Did you know how hard that was for her? My father actually apologized to you, which may not mean a lot to your kind, but it was like ripping out a piece of his soul! Apparently, you don't put any value into that either."
"I had a reason!"
"What could possibly have had you lying to me for all this time, Ginevra? What could possibly have been so important that you felt a burning need to humiliate me like this?"
She could barely speak, tears were running down her face freely and she was desperately looking into his eyes for the tiniest hint of understanding. There was none.
It was time for the charade to end.
"I'm Francine."
"You're what?"
"I am Francine Miller. I've been using a disguise and I fly on the Falcons every week. That's why I can't sit in the stands with you at the match. And that's why I've been away from working at Tinkertons for the last few months."
Well, at least it got his attention.
His voice dropped to an unusually calm tone of disbelief. "Why in Merlin's name would you do something like that?"
"It all started in June, before the ball. We had a lot of reasons, mostly it was to hide me from being a Weasley. Oliver thought that I'd be judged more fairly in the trials if I was more anonymous."
"Oliver," he growled.
Apparently, she became fully aware, he still harbored some jealously and suspicion over her relationship with the former Falcons Keeper.
She responded passionately, "Yes, Oliver. He and Fred and George have been friends for years. He wanted to work on some coaching skills with our team, and after a while encouraged me to go professional. I swear to you, he's only a friend."
"And after you made the team?"
"I had started seeing you," she said, her voice already becoming hoarse in desperation. "I was falling for you, and it didn't seem like a good time to bring it up. I didn't want you to think I was using you to secure my spot on the team. I mean, you had talked so much about propriety and how important the team was for your image...."
"That you didn't want it to come across that I was favoring you because of our relationship," he finished, sounding far more calm.
She nodded, feeling some sort of relief that he might understand. "And I was afraid that you might think that I was only seeing you because I wanted to stay on the team."
"You're good enough that it probably wouldn't have been a factor."
"I didn't want to risk it. I see how you are when you think someone is trying to take advantage of you. It was just easier, because everyone loved Frankie, and I didn't have to deal with the issues."
Issues. With a clarity born of anger, he suddenly realized that she truly did not trust him. She didn't see him as someone with whom she could share such a secret, and didn't trust him to do the right thing. It cut into him like a knife.
"And you didn't think, for three months, that there wouldn't be any issue around you living a double life?" His voice had hardened again. She didn't know how to continue and she saw his temper finally reach its limit.
"I don't think that's the whole reason, Weasley," he said calmly. Too calmly. She could tell that he was seething with anger.
"But it is, I swear."
He stopped her with a hard look.
Obviously, he'd been becoming more suspicious of her excuses over the last few weeks and, somehow, he had come to his own conclusions. She once again felt fear run through her.
He stood, and she saw a look on his face that she hadn't seen in years, and had profoundly believed that she'd never see again. He sneered, looking down his long, aristocratic nose at her, as if she was something foul that had stuck on his shoe.
"I'm sick of the lies, I'm sick of the deception, and I am completely, utterly sick of your filthy attitude that for some reason, because you sided with St. Potter, that you are somehow better than me. I've treated you extremely well, Ginevra. Obviously, it gave you some sort of opinion that you're better than what you came from. No more."
She felt her heart stick in her throat. He was dumping her. After all this, he was going to dump her, and she wanted to say anything to make him change his mind.
"Draco, no, please..."
"You'll play the match tomorrow, but it's your last game. As I told you before, I work very hard to maintain a reputation right now, and I can't have you scandalizing my team. For all I know, you've been sleeping with the whole lot of them."
The comment cut deeply. She knew he had only said it out of anger, but it hurt anyway. She was openly sobbing. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Draco, please! I am so sorry! I was going to figure out how to tell you after tomorrow's match."
He seemed to think that she was more upset about losing her spot on the team rather than the fact that she still had not addressed the issue of being willing to tell her family and make it public that they were seeing each other.
"Yes, think of your Quidditch career. Get out of my sight, Weasley, before I say or do something that I'll regret."
There was nothing more she could say. He'd shut down from her, and the cold bully she'd known so many years ago at school had returned. Her heart broke. She left the changing room — actually, stumbled was a better term — but he didn't look up from the spot on the floor he'd been focusing on.
Oliver Wood watched the crying girl leave and stepped out from the wall of lockers on the far side of the changing room.
Draco glared at him.
"You're lucky you still have a job right now, so I don't want to hear anything from you." Draco growled menacingly at the man he viewed as a competitor.
"She loves you, " Oliver responded, not knowing what else to say to the other man.
"Stuff it. You can have the little tart. I'm done with her."
"That really is exactly how it happened. She didn't mean any harm." Oliver felt a need to explain, having known Ginny's dilemma all along.
"You've been listening this whole time?"
"Didn't mean to, but there was no other way out from behind there without being seen."
"Get out, before I fire you too." With that, Draco turned away. Oliver walked sadly to the exit, hearing Draco pound his fist into one of the lockers.
Oliver swallowed his guilt. It was partly his fault, for encouraging Ginny to try out under an alias in the first place. He should have seen something like this coming. As he reached the door, he turned back, thinking there had to be something more he could say to the blond man sulking back in the room, but he held his tongue as he saw what appeared to be tears freely rolling down the other man's cheeks.
- x - x -
Ginny wandered for what seemed like hours before she felt calm enough to Apparate home. Once again, she had failed miserably in her attempt at a relationship, and she felt broken and hollow inside.
As she arrived at the Burrow, she was grateful that her parents had gone out for the evening. She wasn't looking forward to telling her mum about today's events. A part of her debated about keeping the entire fiasco quiet for a while, but keeping secrets had gotten her into this mess in the first place. She decided that it was time to stop that behavior. Nevertheless, it would be easier to give them the whole truth tomorrow, after the match.
Walking through the empty house, she started to sob again.
"Hey, sis, I didn't expect you home so early."
It was Fred. She looked up to see him descending the stairs and silently cursed the fact that she wasn't as alone as she'd hoped to be.
"I thought you were going to go out with George tonight," she said, as she turned away and pretended to be fascinated by the cover of Witch Weekly on the coffee table.
"Nah, he seemed to think that having me tag along was going to cramp his style. Can you believe it?"
She tried to chuckle, but the sob that she'd held in her throat seem to come out on its own.
Her lovable brother was by her side in an instant.
"Hey, sis, what's wrong?" he said, as he wrapped her up in a hug. She only cried harder.
It felt good, just to have her brother hold her as she released all her sorrow. Somewhere between hiccups and sniffles, she soaked his shirt with tears and told him about the whole miserable mess.
He even offered to find a way to sneak Draco a bunch of their less successful joke shop products.
"No, don't hex him. It's not his fault. It's mine. I'm the one who lied and hid the truth from him. He has every reason to be angry with me." It was far worse than that. Draco's accusations had been more than partially correct.
"He'll get over it, Gin. Just give him some time."
"Even if he did, it wouldn't work. I've heard his opinions, he wouldn't let me play on the team anyway. I'd have to choose one or the other, and I can't do that," she explained sadly.
They talked well into the evening. By the end of it all, her brother tucked her into bed, just like he'd done when she was a little girl. He kissed her on the forehead, and sat by her bedside until she fell asleep.
As she fell into her exhausted sleep, she knew she'd finally come to her decision.
- x - x -
When Molly and Arthur came home that night, they were surprised to find Fred donning his cloak in preparation to leave.
“Isn't it a bit late to be going out, son?” Arthur asked him.
“Just realized I left a potion brewing at the store and I need to add something to it before it explodes,” he replied almost smoothly. He was quite accustomed to telling his parents little white lies. He was grateful that he hadn't lost his touch over the years.
“All right, dear, try not to be too late,” Molly said, looking mildly concerned after he'd mentioned the possibility of an explosion. After a short pause where she obviously was looking to change the conversation, she asked, “Is Ginny home yet?”
“She's asleep. Seems like she had a bit of a long day,” Fred replied quickly, hoping his parents wouldn't wake her. He didn't want her to know that he was going out. If she suspected his motives, she'd likely hex him into next week.
His mother nodded as she shed her cloak and hung it up. “I'll let her be. I'm sure we'll get to talk in the morning. I'm a bit tired myself,” she said as she let out a small yawn.
“Don't wait up for me, Mum. I was thinking I might try to meet up with George after I'm done,” he lied again.
“No pranks, dear,” she said, as if she fully expected that it was the real reason he was going out in the first place.
He smiled, and moved out the door. He was partly responsible for the mess surrounding the creation of Francine, and now his baby sister was in tears as a result of it all. He was going to go to find the man responsible for his sister's tears, and make sure that he got the entire story, even if it took all night.
- x -
Author notes: Thanks to kaygina in the ficexchange, for pointing out that there was a bit of a gap between the fight and the resolution in the next chapter. Hopefully, I've addressed that adequately in this posting.
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