Ginny Apparated to her back yard still reeling from his parting innuendo.
She tried to be furious but the teasing wink and smirk had set butterflies, or should she say, dragonflies fluttering through her abdomen. Her evening had been nothing short of pure magic and she would have thought it had been a dream if not for the incredible evening gown she still wore. Her feet practically floated across the grass as she approached the front porch of The Burrow.
Despite his remark, and despite the fact that she had technically been at work the entire evening, she felt overwhelmingly happy. As she thought back over the last twelve hours or so, she realized that she'd just had the kind of night that any woman would envy and, even if her handsome prince was really just a troll in disguise, she really didn't care right now. The evening had been perfect, right down to the kiss in a faerie-filled garden.
Faeries, she mused. It was amazing how her intense dislike of the creatures had so quickly abated. She'd likely go back to hating them in a day or two, when reality came crashing back down. She wanted to give herself the one day of fun.
She'd think about the repercussions of that kiss later. She knew it meant nothing to either of them but it was still a lovely part of the evening and, truthfully, she was too tired to care.
She was more than tired, actually she was exhausted, but she doubted she'd be able to sleep anytime soon. Part of her didn't want to take the dress off just yet and she still had favorite parts of the evening to go over in her mind. She likely would have to write it all down so she wouldn't forget.
It was late spring and even at this early hour (or late, depending on one's perspective) the sun's first light was turning the horizon to a bright pink. She quietly opened the door, entered the living room and attempted to sneak up to her room.
Unfortunately, her mother had always been a notoriously early riser and today was no exception. She'd barely set foot on the first stair when she heard her mother exit the kitchen.
"Ginevra Molly Weasley, are you just coming home now?"
Oops.
"Yes, Mum,” she shouted back, trying to sound as casual as possible, hoping to escape before her mother noticed her unusual attire. “It was a very late event. I had to stay until the very end."
As she continued up the stairs, it suddenly occurred to her that she'd abandoned her black dress at the manor and was just trying to figure out how to tactfully retrieve it, when her mother interrupted her thoughts once again.
"I am sorely tempted to have a word with that Tinkerton woman. She just about works you girls to death... Oh my goodness, Ginny, what in the world are you wearing?"
Too late. She was going to have to explain now but decided that it was probably no matter. Somebody was likely going to notice the pictures in the paper today anyway. There was no doubt that she might be in at least one of them but she anticipated it would be something small, since the guests of honor were Lucius and Narcissa, and there were so many other high-profile guests. She'd actually started to entertain the thought that she wouldn't have to explain to her parents that she'd acted as Draco's date for the evening.
She turned to her mother sheepishly. Her elegant hairstyle had become slightly mussed, but still was mostly in place, and who could miss the emerald earrings she wore?
Her mother gasped.
"Sweetheart, you look... oh, my goodness. What in the world...?"
Obviously, her mother was at a loss for words. She tried to come up with an explanation quickly but her mother interrupted that thought too.
"Arthur!" The familiar shriek of her mother pierced her ears. Funny how she'd gotten used to the polite conversation among the Malfoys so quickly. Her mother continued, "Arthur! Come down here right now. You have to see this!"
She remained frozen in place on the stairs and found herself turning sheepishly to look up at her sleepy father as he entered the hallway. He was followed closely by Fred and George, the only two siblings who were still living at home. The brothers had likely heard the noise and could not resist finding out about whatever was causing all the commotion.
"Gin-bug, is that you?" her father asked, as the sight of her seemed to shock him awake.
Fred and George were peering over each of her father's shoulders, all three sporting rather horrendous bed-hair. The image strongly reminded Ginny of a three-headed troll.
"Whoa! Is that our sister?"
"No, George. It's Ron. He cleans up rather well, don't you think?"
She came to the quick conclusion that she wouldn't be going to bed anytime soon, as the small herd of Weasleys began descending the stairs.
Next thing she knew, her father was in front of her holding her shoulders, staring at her. “My goodness, Ginny, you look beautiful! Not that you don't always, but, my little girl, you look like you've been attacked by a fairy godmother.”
She smiled at her father. She could be eighty and she'd still be his little girl.
“You can thank Tinkerton's for that, I suppose,” she said, trying to downplay the events to being work-related, as opposed to Malfoy-related.
Fred started fingering the skirt of her dress, maybe trying to see if it was some sort of illusion, she figured. She smacked his hand away. “Fred, do you mind not drooling on the dress. I'd rather not have it ruined.”
“Well, you'll have to be returning it soon, I suppose,” her mother said seriously. Her parents were poor, but they weren't fools. They knew full well that this dress likely cost half a year's salary.
“I already asked and they said they don't want it back. It's considered an expense of the party.”
“Excellent!” George piped in. “You'll have a dress for Fred's wedding!”
“Shut up, George,” Fred sniped back at his brother. It was a minor sore spot between the two, since George had started seeing Camille and Fred had recently found himself sitting home.
“That's a brilliant idea, George.” She smiled back. She would definitely ask when the time came for the next wedding. After all, Draco did say it would be a shame if nobody ever got to see her wear it again.
“I'm not sure I understand, Gin-bug,” her father interrupted. “This isn't something that you normally wear to work for an event.”
“It was an unusual set of circumstances,” she said. She knew she had to choose her words carefully. Her mother had already expressed some concern about her working on this project.
“What kind of circumstances, dear?”
“It's kind of a long story...” she began, then looked solidly at the twins. “It's your fault, actually.”
Fred and George looked at each other, then back to her. “You're welcome,” they responded in unison.
She started to laugh. “I suppose you're right. I am in this dress as a direct result of a Skiving Snackbox incident. The victim, Pansy Parkinson, by the way, could not make the party and they needed someone to fill in as the hostess.”
The twins started to chuckle and congratulate each other on another victory for Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. She enjoyed their banter, filling them in on the details of the Snackbox incident, including Narcissa's reaction to children having access to such a 'vile' thing. It had seemed that she'd escaped having to provide further details of the evening itself, but, as she'd realized earlier, her parents were poor, not stupid.
“Ginny, dear. What exactly do you mean by hostess?”
“Um... It was nothing really, I just had to be Draco's escort, stand and greet the guests, dance with him. Nothing important.”
From the look on her mother's face, apparently it was.
“My goodness, Ginny, I'm not sure what concerns me more, that you were his date or that you were paid to do so. Neither sounds like it's something I'd approve,” her mother said. “And they gave you that dress and the jewelry?”
"Please, Mum. It's nothing really. And I'm owling Mrs. Malfoy to arrange to return the jewelry as soon as I can."
"Obviously, there's a story," her mother. "That dress, my goodness..."
If she said "my goodness" one more time, Ginny thought she'd go insane.
"Mum, I know. The dress. Yes, it's quite expensive, but really, I already told them I'd return it. I have to go back to get my work clothes anyway."
"You look beautiful, Gin-bug," her father told her and she beamed back.
"Thanks Dad. I really did feel like I was a princess. It was all like a fairytale, getting all fitted for the ball."
"But you have to understand that you can't trust those people," her father advised.
"I know Dad, I know. But really, they were quite kind to me. I really did have a nice time."
"They're using you, Gin," George cautioned. "They probably wanted you there so they'd look more respectable."
"I know that, actually. Draco was quite candid about that when he first hired me for the event two months ago."
"You're kidding!" Fred sounded amazed. "He was actually up front with you about it? That no good, conniving Slytherin!"
"It's not like that." She couldn't believe she was actually defending him. But, quite truthfully, she no longer could say she disliked Draco after he'd managed to put so much effort into giving her the fantasy evening of a lifetime.
She looked around at the four concerned faces. “Please, don't be angry. I had fun! I would rather not get into a row about it.”
Fortunately, it must have been too early in the morning for all of them to spend the energy of getting their famous tempers up and she watched with just a small amount of fear until it appeared that they were willing to calm down. Finally, her mother took a deep breath. “I believe you dear. But, you are not keeping that dress. It's probably worth more than what we make in a year. It's just not proper to keep a gift that expensive," her mother started lecturing.
"They want something from you," her father stated again, as if she hadn't heard him the first time and she could tell he was getting angry and she truly wanted to try to get him to understand.
"Dad, please. I've worked with Narcissa for two months now, and they are not at all like what you remember."
"Really?"
"I'm certain of it."
"What makes you think so?"
"They, just, well, are more quiet and reserved. They seem reclusive. And, well," she wasn't sure if she should say it, but they needed to know. "Lucius apologized to me."
That got her father's attention.
"He told me he was profoundly sorry about the diary, and regretted what happened to me. He also said that he was glad that I was all right. Draco overheard, and later told me that it's likely the first time that Lucius has ever apologized to anyone in his life."
"He should regret it. He should still be in Azkaban for it," her father growled.
“Well, you said you had fun, Gin,” George said, being more calm than her parents. “Why don't you tell us about it?”
How many times in the last few weeks had she thought about how much she loved her brothers? she thought. She smiled in relief.
She spent the next two hours talking about the rest of her evening, about Camille and the other girls encouraging her and giving her sly winks all evening, about dancing with Minister Shacklebolt, and about how all her hard work in planning had been a tremendous accomplishment.
She finally seemed to have appeased her parents, and was just starting to nod off on the couch, still wearing the now-infamous Dress when the Sunday edition of the Daily Prophet arrived. Ginny had been expecting that she might be in one of the photographs of the ball, buried somewhere deep within the paper's society page. She found herself looking forward to it, actually, since she had prepared the press release herself and it was always amusing to see how close the Prophet came to actually being correct.
What she didn't expect was to see was herself and Draco Malfoy on the front page. The photograph was magnificent, if one was capable of looking at it objectively. It showed them dancing and laughing as they shared some joke, their eyes locked. It was likely the second dance that was shown there, Ginny guessed, and they were likely laughing over Draco's issues with women. They made quite a handsome couple. Apparently, the reporters for the Prophet agreed. The headline read,
Future wedding bells for Malfoy heir?
At the silver anniversary ball for Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, a who's who list of socialites attended and were treated to the introduction of son Draco's current beau. The young couple seemed to be completely enamored with each other all evening. Details on page 11
Well, they did say there would be some 'speculation'. What an understatement. She looked up at the shocked faces of her parents, knowing that it mirrored her own surprised expression. She prepared to explain, but as she opened her mouth...
"Well, I'll be!" a twin interrupted.
"Our sis, dancing with the devil himself!"
"She can take him, Fred."
"I have no doubt, George."
Thank goodness for the twins to be there to lighten the mood. After all, they all knew that the Prophet had a bad habit of altering the facts to suit their own ends. Right? Ugh. At this point, she really, really just wanted to get out of the dress and corset, go to sleep and deal with it later.
"Well, can I have a dance with the lovely vixen that has managed to shake the foundations of House Malfoy?" Fred said, as he stood in front of her, giving an exaggerated bow.
"I'll go get a camera," George said, as she took Fred's hand and began a dance around the living room.
- ~ -
The first thing she did, after finally breaking free from her family, was to send Errol, their elderly owl, to Narcissa. Her note graciously thanked the older woman for the evening. She also asked about arranging a time for her to return the borrowed jewelry that she'd worn with her dress, as well as to pick up the simple black dress that she'd left behind.
She finally managed to get a few hours of sleep in before Hermione and Ron arrived for Sunday dinner. Once again, The Dress was taken out and paraded, and once again, she had to recount her adventure in detail. She had a feeling it would be far from the last time she'd have to recount the tale. Ron was far from happy about it, but the twins did a good job of distracting him to minimize any issues.
There were a few owls received that day from each of her other brothers and some concerned friends and Ginny found herself annoyed that she was forced to spend the remainder of the afternoon sending posts to correct the errant ways of the infamous Daily Prophet. She was surprised that, after all the blatantly false stories about Harry that the Prophet had published over the years that her friends and family weren't more skeptical about anything they found there. Then again, maybe they were. If they'd truly been concerned, she was certain the house would have been full of brothers mere minutes after they'd read the story.
- ~ -
Draco woke up after a particularly good night, or should he say, morning's sleep. After all, he didn't get to bed until nearly dawn.
Wandering downstairs, he found his parents still loitering over their brunch. They'd obviously had a late lie-in as well, due to the late ending to the ball. He was pleased to see that both appeared to be rested and relatively happy.
He sat down and began sipping his morning beverage and noticed his father deeply engrossed in reading the Daily Prophet. As he held the paper up, reading the contents, the picture on the front page stood out vividly. Almost forgetting his manners, Draco barely resisted the urge to reach over and snatch the paper from his father's hands as he read the caption.
His mother noted his reaction and gave a delicate chuckle.
"As if you expected anything less, my son?"
His father lowered the paper, his expression calm, but Draco could also sense his amusement at his son's discomfort. Good Lord, his parents were actually having a good time teasing him. His annoyance with them was tempered by the fact that he hadn't seen them so happy in years.
"I certainly wasn't expecting the front page! If so, I would have tried to arrange for something more newsworthy to happen," he groused, turning his attention to his breakfast plate.
Obviously, his parents weren't upset. After his father finished, he got a chance to review the rest of the pictures and the write-up in the society section. There was a lovely photograph of his parents shaking hands with the Minister and various shots of high-profile guests. The publicity of the ball could not have been more favorable for his parents' political standing. They were openly delighted with the outcome, well, as open as was usual for them.
"The Weasley girl was a good choice," Narcissa commented, as he read through the article. "She exceeded my expectations."
Draco tried to appear casual as he agreed but nothing got by his mother.
"It was a successful evening, Draco. I am quite pleased with your efforts to ensure all went smoothly," Lucius added. Apparently, he approved of Ginny's presence also. Draco raised an eyebrow in surprise. He decided, since they'd started the morning in good humor to tease them back. "Who would have thought, that both my parents would have not only agreed, but approved of a Weasley to be here? Times do change, don't they?"
"The times have changed, and we adapt. There is nothing to gain and much to lose by continuing the old grudge. You've learned that well, and have been successful as a result," Lucius explained. "I have
nothing against the girl. She's proven quite useful. That picture on the front page will benefit you, I'm certain."
High praise from Lucius. Draco was surprised, but not greatly.
Their conversation was interrupted by an owl crashing into the window. A very, very old and rather ungainly-looking owl. Draco looked out the window to see the owl lying exhausted on the ground outside. Upon seeing him, the bird eagerly, if unsteadily, pulled himself up to present his note. Draco had seen this bird before, remembering it only because it had been such a joke whenever it had delivered anything to one of the Weasleys at Hogwarts. The owl was ancient and rather senile way back then. He was amazed it was still alive.
"I believe that's the Weasleys' bird," Draco informed them.
"Good heavens, are they still in such dire financial circumstances?" Lucius asked, as Errol tried his best to look stately.
"I don't think so, at least not from what I've heard. I'm under the impression that they seem to enjoy being somewhat... unusual."
His parents simply nodded in response. Narcissa was peering uncertainly at the pathetic bird as Draco removed the parchment. "It's addressed to you, Mother."
She read the note quickly and dismissed the bird. "Well, that was prompt."
Her husband and son looked at her inquiringly. They weren't normally ones to pry, but the bird did create quite an entrance.
"It's a note from the Weasley girl, thanking us for our hospitality and asking to arrange a meeting time so that she can return the jewelry she wore last night," she informed them. “I will arrange for that later,” she said, and the family went back to finishing their breakfast.
- ~ -
Ginny gratefully hauled her tired self into work early the next morning. She knew that her ordeal was not yet over as far as the story in the paper was concerned but, at least with the girls at work, she could simply enjoy going over the events of the evening.
She walked into the office and was greeted with a barrage of questions and comments.
“Oh, Ginny, you looked wonderful!”
“I am so jealous!”
“You should have heard how some of the women there were talking, Ginny. They were absolutely green with envy.”
Their excitement and enthusiasm was contagious and she soon found herself once again getting carried away with the fun she had that evening, instead of dwelling on the concerns of her family. She found herself giving them every detail that she'd promised, ending her story with the Malfoys retiring for the evening.
As she was finally able to break away and go back to her desk, she found her thoughts drifting back to the part of the evening she'd left out and felt her heart ache with an unfamiliar longing. She found herself torn about what had happened in the faerie garden after the party. On one hand, it was the single most romantic moment she'd ever experienced, and she'd loved it. On the other hand, the man involved in said romantic moment was the last person who she'd have wanted to share such a moment with. She gave a big, audible sigh.
“All right, Gin. Let's hear it.”
Ginny looked up, feeling like a cornered rabbit, to see Camille giving her a knowing look. “What?”
“You left something out, I can tell.”
“I... There's nothing more. I told you all everything. It was fun. What more is there to say, except that I had a lot of explaining to do yesterday after my family saw the pictures in the Prophet.”
Camille stared at her in the accusing way only a friend can get away with and Ginny cringed. “Ginny, there's more. I saw the pictures in the Prophet and I've been watching the two of you interact for weeks. What did you leave out?”
“I don't know if I can say.”
“Try me, Ginny.”
“All right, if you really must know,” she said quietly, looking about for any eavesdroppers. “But you have to keep it quiet.”
Camille nodded, looking for all the world like she was about to get a big chocolate sundae and Ginny, truthfully, was bursting to tell somebody. Ginny looked about to make sure nobody could overhear, then whispered back to Camille, “He kissed me.”
“Ohmygosh!” Camille squeaked, her eyes going wide. “You're not just saying that to tease me, are you?”
Ginny shook her head, wondering if she should have said anything and added, “In the faerie garden.”
“Ohmygosh! How was it?”
The look Ginny gave was more than enough information for her friend.
“And you, Miss I-Hate-Romance. That is so unfair.”
“Don't get me started. The most romantic moment of my life and it had to involve a man I can barely stand being around.”
The morning passed quickly and lunch consisted of everyone busily chatting about the ball on Saturday. Ginny's experience only made the evening more fun to talk about, and it was fun hearing the rest talk about the odd things that happen at any event, including the incinerated first course. Almost everyone had their own unique horror story to share and Ginny enjoyed catching up on what she'd missed behind the scenes.
Returning to her desk, Ginny found two owls waiting for her. The first was from Narcissa Malfoy, inviting her to tea on Friday afternoon so that they could exchange their respective items from the ball. The second, however, was of greater interest to the office because it was carrying a peach colored rose and a note. The cluster of office gossips immediately clustered around.
“Ginny, you are just too lucky!”
“Who's it from?”
She wanted to glare at them all to leave her, but that wouldn't go over very well, so she decided to just get it over with as quickly as possible. She truly had no idea who would send a rose to her at the office, and had a creeping fear that it might be from Malfoy.
To her relief, it wasn't.
Ginny,
We did it! I wanted to be the first to say congratulations!
Looking forward to seeing a lot more of you in the near future.
Oliver.
There was only one thing Oliver could mean. She'd made it. She was actually now on a professional Quidditch team. Granted, only as a part of the practice squad, but it was real. She really was good enough. She felt her heart skip a few beats.
“Well?” Camille looked like she was going to pass out from anticipation. Not wanting her friend to make any assumptions, Ginny had to tell them something. Normally, getting a rose wouldn't garner that much attention, but she wondered if the rest of the office suspected Draco might have sent it also. Best to shut down that rumor immediately.
“It's from a friend of mine. Actually, he's a friend of my brothers. Oliver Wood.”
“Ooh!” came a chorus of gasps. Egad. Sometimes, Ginny hated working with an office full of gossipy women.
“He's just a friend! And he's just congratulating me on something that the four of us have been working on together.”
“Right, hun.” One of the women said, smiling, as she walked away.
Well, it was better for them to think that she had some sort of thing with Oliver, if it kept them distracted from any potential rumors about Malfoy.
The rest of the afternoon passed quietly while she completed the paperwork and closed out the account from the weekend. As her co-workers left for the day, Ms. Tinkerton called both her and Camille in to her office to inform them that they could take the rest of the week off as a reward for all the extra hours they'd put in over the last few weeks. Ginny accepted gratefully, especially knowing that Quidditch was going to start taking up even more of her time in the very near future.
As she went back to her desk, she found the last person she wanted waiting near her desk looking over the note and flowers.
“Weasley.”
So, they were back to last names. She felt a moment of disappointment. Even though she'd fought the idea, she really had started to think that maybe, just maybe, the person she'd seen on Saturday evening might have been real.
“Can I help you with something, Mr. Malfoy?”
He leaned against her desk, toying with the peach-colored rose that was now sitting in a vase.
“I was just here to settle my account with your company. I thought I'd stop by,” he said casually, eyeing the flower with disdain. “Getting flowers, Weasley?”
He picked up the note that lay near the vase, and started looking at it before she could snatch it away.
“Give me that back,” she snarled, reaching for the piece of parchment.
“Oh, come now Weasley, it can't be that private if you left it out.” Nevertheless, he placed it back down, open. She wondered if he did that purposely.
“Well, good day, Weasley,” he said shortly, and walked into Ms. Tinkerton's office.
She was fully aware that Camille had returned to her desk and was watching the interaction with great interest.
“Oh, Ginny. He is so interested in you.”
“Don't start, Camille. That would be the day goblins have no interest in gold.”
- ~ -
She tried to be furious but the teasing wink and smirk had set butterflies, or should she say, dragonflies fluttering through her abdomen. Her evening had been nothing short of pure magic and she would have thought it had been a dream if not for the incredible evening gown she still wore. Her feet practically floated across the grass as she approached the front porch of The Burrow.
Despite his remark, and despite the fact that she had technically been at work the entire evening, she felt overwhelmingly happy. As she thought back over the last twelve hours or so, she realized that she'd just had the kind of night that any woman would envy and, even if her handsome prince was really just a troll in disguise, she really didn't care right now. The evening had been perfect, right down to the kiss in a faerie-filled garden.
Faeries, she mused. It was amazing how her intense dislike of the creatures had so quickly abated. She'd likely go back to hating them in a day or two, when reality came crashing back down. She wanted to give herself the one day of fun.
She'd think about the repercussions of that kiss later. She knew it meant nothing to either of them but it was still a lovely part of the evening and, truthfully, she was too tired to care.
She was more than tired, actually she was exhausted, but she doubted she'd be able to sleep anytime soon. Part of her didn't want to take the dress off just yet and she still had favorite parts of the evening to go over in her mind. She likely would have to write it all down so she wouldn't forget.
It was late spring and even at this early hour (or late, depending on one's perspective) the sun's first light was turning the horizon to a bright pink. She quietly opened the door, entered the living room and attempted to sneak up to her room.
Unfortunately, her mother had always been a notoriously early riser and today was no exception. She'd barely set foot on the first stair when she heard her mother exit the kitchen.
"Ginevra Molly Weasley, are you just coming home now?"
Oops.
"Yes, Mum,” she shouted back, trying to sound as casual as possible, hoping to escape before her mother noticed her unusual attire. “It was a very late event. I had to stay until the very end."
As she continued up the stairs, it suddenly occurred to her that she'd abandoned her black dress at the manor and was just trying to figure out how to tactfully retrieve it, when her mother interrupted her thoughts once again.
"I am sorely tempted to have a word with that Tinkerton woman. She just about works you girls to death... Oh my goodness, Ginny, what in the world are you wearing?"
Too late. She was going to have to explain now but decided that it was probably no matter. Somebody was likely going to notice the pictures in the paper today anyway. There was no doubt that she might be in at least one of them but she anticipated it would be something small, since the guests of honor were Lucius and Narcissa, and there were so many other high-profile guests. She'd actually started to entertain the thought that she wouldn't have to explain to her parents that she'd acted as Draco's date for the evening.
She turned to her mother sheepishly. Her elegant hairstyle had become slightly mussed, but still was mostly in place, and who could miss the emerald earrings she wore?
Her mother gasped.
"Sweetheart, you look... oh, my goodness. What in the world...?"
Obviously, her mother was at a loss for words. She tried to come up with an explanation quickly but her mother interrupted that thought too.
"Arthur!" The familiar shriek of her mother pierced her ears. Funny how she'd gotten used to the polite conversation among the Malfoys so quickly. Her mother continued, "Arthur! Come down here right now. You have to see this!"
She remained frozen in place on the stairs and found herself turning sheepishly to look up at her sleepy father as he entered the hallway. He was followed closely by Fred and George, the only two siblings who were still living at home. The brothers had likely heard the noise and could not resist finding out about whatever was causing all the commotion.
"Gin-bug, is that you?" her father asked, as the sight of her seemed to shock him awake.
Fred and George were peering over each of her father's shoulders, all three sporting rather horrendous bed-hair. The image strongly reminded Ginny of a three-headed troll.
"Whoa! Is that our sister?"
"No, George. It's Ron. He cleans up rather well, don't you think?"
She came to the quick conclusion that she wouldn't be going to bed anytime soon, as the small herd of Weasleys began descending the stairs.
Next thing she knew, her father was in front of her holding her shoulders, staring at her. “My goodness, Ginny, you look beautiful! Not that you don't always, but, my little girl, you look like you've been attacked by a fairy godmother.”
She smiled at her father. She could be eighty and she'd still be his little girl.
“You can thank Tinkerton's for that, I suppose,” she said, trying to downplay the events to being work-related, as opposed to Malfoy-related.
Fred started fingering the skirt of her dress, maybe trying to see if it was some sort of illusion, she figured. She smacked his hand away. “Fred, do you mind not drooling on the dress. I'd rather not have it ruined.”
“Well, you'll have to be returning it soon, I suppose,” her mother said seriously. Her parents were poor, but they weren't fools. They knew full well that this dress likely cost half a year's salary.
“I already asked and they said they don't want it back. It's considered an expense of the party.”
“Excellent!” George piped in. “You'll have a dress for Fred's wedding!”
“Shut up, George,” Fred sniped back at his brother. It was a minor sore spot between the two, since George had started seeing Camille and Fred had recently found himself sitting home.
“That's a brilliant idea, George.” She smiled back. She would definitely ask when the time came for the next wedding. After all, Draco did say it would be a shame if nobody ever got to see her wear it again.
“I'm not sure I understand, Gin-bug,” her father interrupted. “This isn't something that you normally wear to work for an event.”
“It was an unusual set of circumstances,” she said. She knew she had to choose her words carefully. Her mother had already expressed some concern about her working on this project.
“What kind of circumstances, dear?”
“It's kind of a long story...” she began, then looked solidly at the twins. “It's your fault, actually.”
Fred and George looked at each other, then back to her. “You're welcome,” they responded in unison.
She started to laugh. “I suppose you're right. I am in this dress as a direct result of a Skiving Snackbox incident. The victim, Pansy Parkinson, by the way, could not make the party and they needed someone to fill in as the hostess.”
The twins started to chuckle and congratulate each other on another victory for Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. She enjoyed their banter, filling them in on the details of the Snackbox incident, including Narcissa's reaction to children having access to such a 'vile' thing. It had seemed that she'd escaped having to provide further details of the evening itself, but, as she'd realized earlier, her parents were poor, not stupid.
“Ginny, dear. What exactly do you mean by hostess?”
“Um... It was nothing really, I just had to be Draco's escort, stand and greet the guests, dance with him. Nothing important.”
From the look on her mother's face, apparently it was.
“My goodness, Ginny, I'm not sure what concerns me more, that you were his date or that you were paid to do so. Neither sounds like it's something I'd approve,” her mother said. “And they gave you that dress and the jewelry?”
"Please, Mum. It's nothing really. And I'm owling Mrs. Malfoy to arrange to return the jewelry as soon as I can."
"Obviously, there's a story," her mother. "That dress, my goodness..."
If she said "my goodness" one more time, Ginny thought she'd go insane.
"Mum, I know. The dress. Yes, it's quite expensive, but really, I already told them I'd return it. I have to go back to get my work clothes anyway."
"You look beautiful, Gin-bug," her father told her and she beamed back.
"Thanks Dad. I really did feel like I was a princess. It was all like a fairytale, getting all fitted for the ball."
"But you have to understand that you can't trust those people," her father advised.
"I know Dad, I know. But really, they were quite kind to me. I really did have a nice time."
"They're using you, Gin," George cautioned. "They probably wanted you there so they'd look more respectable."
"I know that, actually. Draco was quite candid about that when he first hired me for the event two months ago."
"You're kidding!" Fred sounded amazed. "He was actually up front with you about it? That no good, conniving Slytherin!"
"It's not like that." She couldn't believe she was actually defending him. But, quite truthfully, she no longer could say she disliked Draco after he'd managed to put so much effort into giving her the fantasy evening of a lifetime.
She looked around at the four concerned faces. “Please, don't be angry. I had fun! I would rather not get into a row about it.”
Fortunately, it must have been too early in the morning for all of them to spend the energy of getting their famous tempers up and she watched with just a small amount of fear until it appeared that they were willing to calm down. Finally, her mother took a deep breath. “I believe you dear. But, you are not keeping that dress. It's probably worth more than what we make in a year. It's just not proper to keep a gift that expensive," her mother started lecturing.
"They want something from you," her father stated again, as if she hadn't heard him the first time and she could tell he was getting angry and she truly wanted to try to get him to understand.
"Dad, please. I've worked with Narcissa for two months now, and they are not at all like what you remember."
"Really?"
"I'm certain of it."
"What makes you think so?"
"They, just, well, are more quiet and reserved. They seem reclusive. And, well," she wasn't sure if she should say it, but they needed to know. "Lucius apologized to me."
That got her father's attention.
"He told me he was profoundly sorry about the diary, and regretted what happened to me. He also said that he was glad that I was all right. Draco overheard, and later told me that it's likely the first time that Lucius has ever apologized to anyone in his life."
"He should regret it. He should still be in Azkaban for it," her father growled.
“Well, you said you had fun, Gin,” George said, being more calm than her parents. “Why don't you tell us about it?”
How many times in the last few weeks had she thought about how much she loved her brothers? she thought. She smiled in relief.
She spent the next two hours talking about the rest of her evening, about Camille and the other girls encouraging her and giving her sly winks all evening, about dancing with Minister Shacklebolt, and about how all her hard work in planning had been a tremendous accomplishment.
She finally seemed to have appeased her parents, and was just starting to nod off on the couch, still wearing the now-infamous Dress when the Sunday edition of the Daily Prophet arrived. Ginny had been expecting that she might be in one of the photographs of the ball, buried somewhere deep within the paper's society page. She found herself looking forward to it, actually, since she had prepared the press release herself and it was always amusing to see how close the Prophet came to actually being correct.
What she didn't expect was to see was herself and Draco Malfoy on the front page. The photograph was magnificent, if one was capable of looking at it objectively. It showed them dancing and laughing as they shared some joke, their eyes locked. It was likely the second dance that was shown there, Ginny guessed, and they were likely laughing over Draco's issues with women. They made quite a handsome couple. Apparently, the reporters for the Prophet agreed. The headline read,
Future wedding bells for Malfoy heir?
At the silver anniversary ball for Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, a who's who list of socialites attended and were treated to the introduction of son Draco's current beau. The young couple seemed to be completely enamored with each other all evening. Details on page 11
Well, they did say there would be some 'speculation'. What an understatement. She looked up at the shocked faces of her parents, knowing that it mirrored her own surprised expression. She prepared to explain, but as she opened her mouth...
"Well, I'll be!" a twin interrupted.
"Our sis, dancing with the devil himself!"
"She can take him, Fred."
"I have no doubt, George."
Thank goodness for the twins to be there to lighten the mood. After all, they all knew that the Prophet had a bad habit of altering the facts to suit their own ends. Right? Ugh. At this point, she really, really just wanted to get out of the dress and corset, go to sleep and deal with it later.
"Well, can I have a dance with the lovely vixen that has managed to shake the foundations of House Malfoy?" Fred said, as he stood in front of her, giving an exaggerated bow.
"I'll go get a camera," George said, as she took Fred's hand and began a dance around the living room.
- ~ -
The first thing she did, after finally breaking free from her family, was to send Errol, their elderly owl, to Narcissa. Her note graciously thanked the older woman for the evening. She also asked about arranging a time for her to return the borrowed jewelry that she'd worn with her dress, as well as to pick up the simple black dress that she'd left behind.
She finally managed to get a few hours of sleep in before Hermione and Ron arrived for Sunday dinner. Once again, The Dress was taken out and paraded, and once again, she had to recount her adventure in detail. She had a feeling it would be far from the last time she'd have to recount the tale. Ron was far from happy about it, but the twins did a good job of distracting him to minimize any issues.
There were a few owls received that day from each of her other brothers and some concerned friends and Ginny found herself annoyed that she was forced to spend the remainder of the afternoon sending posts to correct the errant ways of the infamous Daily Prophet. She was surprised that, after all the blatantly false stories about Harry that the Prophet had published over the years that her friends and family weren't more skeptical about anything they found there. Then again, maybe they were. If they'd truly been concerned, she was certain the house would have been full of brothers mere minutes after they'd read the story.
- ~ -
Draco woke up after a particularly good night, or should he say, morning's sleep. After all, he didn't get to bed until nearly dawn.
Wandering downstairs, he found his parents still loitering over their brunch. They'd obviously had a late lie-in as well, due to the late ending to the ball. He was pleased to see that both appeared to be rested and relatively happy.
He sat down and began sipping his morning beverage and noticed his father deeply engrossed in reading the Daily Prophet. As he held the paper up, reading the contents, the picture on the front page stood out vividly. Almost forgetting his manners, Draco barely resisted the urge to reach over and snatch the paper from his father's hands as he read the caption.
His mother noted his reaction and gave a delicate chuckle.
"As if you expected anything less, my son?"
His father lowered the paper, his expression calm, but Draco could also sense his amusement at his son's discomfort. Good Lord, his parents were actually having a good time teasing him. His annoyance with them was tempered by the fact that he hadn't seen them so happy in years.
"I certainly wasn't expecting the front page! If so, I would have tried to arrange for something more newsworthy to happen," he groused, turning his attention to his breakfast plate.
Obviously, his parents weren't upset. After his father finished, he got a chance to review the rest of the pictures and the write-up in the society section. There was a lovely photograph of his parents shaking hands with the Minister and various shots of high-profile guests. The publicity of the ball could not have been more favorable for his parents' political standing. They were openly delighted with the outcome, well, as open as was usual for them.
"The Weasley girl was a good choice," Narcissa commented, as he read through the article. "She exceeded my expectations."
Draco tried to appear casual as he agreed but nothing got by his mother.
"It was a successful evening, Draco. I am quite pleased with your efforts to ensure all went smoothly," Lucius added. Apparently, he approved of Ginny's presence also. Draco raised an eyebrow in surprise. He decided, since they'd started the morning in good humor to tease them back. "Who would have thought, that both my parents would have not only agreed, but approved of a Weasley to be here? Times do change, don't they?"
"The times have changed, and we adapt. There is nothing to gain and much to lose by continuing the old grudge. You've learned that well, and have been successful as a result," Lucius explained. "I have
nothing against the girl. She's proven quite useful. That picture on the front page will benefit you, I'm certain."
High praise from Lucius. Draco was surprised, but not greatly.
Their conversation was interrupted by an owl crashing into the window. A very, very old and rather ungainly-looking owl. Draco looked out the window to see the owl lying exhausted on the ground outside. Upon seeing him, the bird eagerly, if unsteadily, pulled himself up to present his note. Draco had seen this bird before, remembering it only because it had been such a joke whenever it had delivered anything to one of the Weasleys at Hogwarts. The owl was ancient and rather senile way back then. He was amazed it was still alive.
"I believe that's the Weasleys' bird," Draco informed them.
"Good heavens, are they still in such dire financial circumstances?" Lucius asked, as Errol tried his best to look stately.
"I don't think so, at least not from what I've heard. I'm under the impression that they seem to enjoy being somewhat... unusual."
His parents simply nodded in response. Narcissa was peering uncertainly at the pathetic bird as Draco removed the parchment. "It's addressed to you, Mother."
She read the note quickly and dismissed the bird. "Well, that was prompt."
Her husband and son looked at her inquiringly. They weren't normally ones to pry, but the bird did create quite an entrance.
"It's a note from the Weasley girl, thanking us for our hospitality and asking to arrange a meeting time so that she can return the jewelry she wore last night," she informed them. “I will arrange for that later,” she said, and the family went back to finishing their breakfast.
- ~ -
Ginny gratefully hauled her tired self into work early the next morning. She knew that her ordeal was not yet over as far as the story in the paper was concerned but, at least with the girls at work, she could simply enjoy going over the events of the evening.
She walked into the office and was greeted with a barrage of questions and comments.
“Oh, Ginny, you looked wonderful!”
“I am so jealous!”
“You should have heard how some of the women there were talking, Ginny. They were absolutely green with envy.”
Their excitement and enthusiasm was contagious and she soon found herself once again getting carried away with the fun she had that evening, instead of dwelling on the concerns of her family. She found herself giving them every detail that she'd promised, ending her story with the Malfoys retiring for the evening.
As she was finally able to break away and go back to her desk, she found her thoughts drifting back to the part of the evening she'd left out and felt her heart ache with an unfamiliar longing. She found herself torn about what had happened in the faerie garden after the party. On one hand, it was the single most romantic moment she'd ever experienced, and she'd loved it. On the other hand, the man involved in said romantic moment was the last person who she'd have wanted to share such a moment with. She gave a big, audible sigh.
“All right, Gin. Let's hear it.”
Ginny looked up, feeling like a cornered rabbit, to see Camille giving her a knowing look. “What?”
“You left something out, I can tell.”
“I... There's nothing more. I told you all everything. It was fun. What more is there to say, except that I had a lot of explaining to do yesterday after my family saw the pictures in the Prophet.”
Camille stared at her in the accusing way only a friend can get away with and Ginny cringed. “Ginny, there's more. I saw the pictures in the Prophet and I've been watching the two of you interact for weeks. What did you leave out?”
“I don't know if I can say.”
“Try me, Ginny.”
“All right, if you really must know,” she said quietly, looking about for any eavesdroppers. “But you have to keep it quiet.”
Camille nodded, looking for all the world like she was about to get a big chocolate sundae and Ginny, truthfully, was bursting to tell somebody. Ginny looked about to make sure nobody could overhear, then whispered back to Camille, “He kissed me.”
“Ohmygosh!” Camille squeaked, her eyes going wide. “You're not just saying that to tease me, are you?”
Ginny shook her head, wondering if she should have said anything and added, “In the faerie garden.”
“Ohmygosh! How was it?”
The look Ginny gave was more than enough information for her friend.
“And you, Miss I-Hate-Romance. That is so unfair.”
“Don't get me started. The most romantic moment of my life and it had to involve a man I can barely stand being around.”
The morning passed quickly and lunch consisted of everyone busily chatting about the ball on Saturday. Ginny's experience only made the evening more fun to talk about, and it was fun hearing the rest talk about the odd things that happen at any event, including the incinerated first course. Almost everyone had their own unique horror story to share and Ginny enjoyed catching up on what she'd missed behind the scenes.
Returning to her desk, Ginny found two owls waiting for her. The first was from Narcissa Malfoy, inviting her to tea on Friday afternoon so that they could exchange their respective items from the ball. The second, however, was of greater interest to the office because it was carrying a peach colored rose and a note. The cluster of office gossips immediately clustered around.
“Ginny, you are just too lucky!”
“Who's it from?”
She wanted to glare at them all to leave her, but that wouldn't go over very well, so she decided to just get it over with as quickly as possible. She truly had no idea who would send a rose to her at the office, and had a creeping fear that it might be from Malfoy.
To her relief, it wasn't.
Ginny,
We did it! I wanted to be the first to say congratulations!
Looking forward to seeing a lot more of you in the near future.
Oliver.
There was only one thing Oliver could mean. She'd made it. She was actually now on a professional Quidditch team. Granted, only as a part of the practice squad, but it was real. She really was good enough. She felt her heart skip a few beats.
“Well?” Camille looked like she was going to pass out from anticipation. Not wanting her friend to make any assumptions, Ginny had to tell them something. Normally, getting a rose wouldn't garner that much attention, but she wondered if the rest of the office suspected Draco might have sent it also. Best to shut down that rumor immediately.
“It's from a friend of mine. Actually, he's a friend of my brothers. Oliver Wood.”
“Ooh!” came a chorus of gasps. Egad. Sometimes, Ginny hated working with an office full of gossipy women.
“He's just a friend! And he's just congratulating me on something that the four of us have been working on together.”
“Right, hun.” One of the women said, smiling, as she walked away.
Well, it was better for them to think that she had some sort of thing with Oliver, if it kept them distracted from any potential rumors about Malfoy.
The rest of the afternoon passed quietly while she completed the paperwork and closed out the account from the weekend. As her co-workers left for the day, Ms. Tinkerton called both her and Camille in to her office to inform them that they could take the rest of the week off as a reward for all the extra hours they'd put in over the last few weeks. Ginny accepted gratefully, especially knowing that Quidditch was going to start taking up even more of her time in the very near future.
As she went back to her desk, she found the last person she wanted waiting near her desk looking over the note and flowers.
“Weasley.”
So, they were back to last names. She felt a moment of disappointment. Even though she'd fought the idea, she really had started to think that maybe, just maybe, the person she'd seen on Saturday evening might have been real.
“Can I help you with something, Mr. Malfoy?”
He leaned against her desk, toying with the peach-colored rose that was now sitting in a vase.
“I was just here to settle my account with your company. I thought I'd stop by,” he said casually, eyeing the flower with disdain. “Getting flowers, Weasley?”
He picked up the note that lay near the vase, and started looking at it before she could snatch it away.
“Give me that back,” she snarled, reaching for the piece of parchment.
“Oh, come now Weasley, it can't be that private if you left it out.” Nevertheless, he placed it back down, open. She wondered if he did that purposely.
“Well, good day, Weasley,” he said shortly, and walked into Ms. Tinkerton's office.
She was fully aware that Camille had returned to her desk and was watching the interaction with great interest.
“Oh, Ginny. He is so interested in you.”
“Don't start, Camille. That would be the day goblins have no interest in gold.”
- ~ -
Author notes: Thanks for the reviews! Hey, even if you hate it, I don't mind hearing the criticism, so send me a quick note. Thanks!
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