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“Yes ... the blue or white?” Ginny mumbled to herself as she rummaged in her wardrobe. She glanced up to take in herself in the mirror as the placed first the strapless blue dress on herself lopsidedly, and then the more regal, formal lacy white.
“White’s better,” she muttered, throwing the blue headlong back into the wardrobe, in true Ginny-fashion. It was just one of those shades of ‘royal blue’ that looked hideous with her fiery hair, and it would never do.
I wonder what it will be like, Ginny mused, sitting down on the bed, Narcissa’s fifty-fifth birthday party. Wow. Somehow, the idea of a ‘birthday party’, which was always related to children and balloons and cakes in Ginny’s mind, was hard to reconcile with the intimidating, beautiful, sophisticated images her mother-in-law Narcissa Malfoy brought. But this was more like a formal ball, with hundreds of Narcissa’s acquaintances coming, so the word ‘party’ didn’t really apply.
Ginny wished she had Draco here to help her choose what to wear. Sure, he would have suggested she take all clothes off altogether in the end, something she was not really opposed to if he complied too, but his opinions were usually good, if a little picky.
She leaned back on the pillows. She still had hours to get ready – the party was only in the evening. Draco’d come back from his office at Malfoy Enterprises in a little while; he was the boss, so he didn’t really have to work very hard. He’d told her to get everything planned before he came.
Might as well get on with it, Ginny thought grimly. I really can’t wait till it’s over. Narcissa still scares me a little bit. She jumped up from the bed, and lay the pretty white gown neatly on the bed. Dress – check.
Now she just had to decide about the jewelry and shoes ... and then she had to get dinner ready. Their house-elf, Jibby, was feeling a little queasy, so Ginny had kindly consented to take over the kitchen. Hermione would be proud, she thought dryly.
She pondered what jewelry she would wear. What necklace would go well with this dress? The amethyst pendant mightn’t contrast well with the milky white of her gown. The onyx necklet was out, because she didn’t like onyxes anyway – it was a gift from her Auntie Muriel, who would see perfectly fit to give her what she knew Ginny didn’t like.
Pearls would be perfect, Ginny decided. But the only one that came to mind was the exquisite necklace that was a gift from Narcissa herself.
It would make Narcissa extremely happy to see Ginny wear it. Draco would be even more happy – surprisingly, he had a fierce sort of affection for his mother, and wouldn’t have a word said against her.
But Ginny hated the necklace. It was too expensive, too large, too ... gaudy to suit her tastes. I might look good in it, Ginny accepted, and Draco’s been telling me to wear that necklace for a long time. But the sight of the thick pearls in their heavy gold chain made Ginny shudder. Weasleys’ aren’t used to such stuff.
But it would go perfectly with the gown. I suppose I can survive it for one evening, Ginny grimaced. It can’t hurt.
Anything Narcissa-related had a special, high place on Draco’s list of priorities. This necklace was kept safely hidden in a red velvet case in little drawer in Ginny’s wardrobe, secured with a key that was equally well hidden, along with their other priceless baubles. Ginny pursed her lips and retrieved the key from its special nook in the room, and stuffed it into the ornate keyhole in her wardrobe, rattling it resignedly.
She picked out the scarlet velvet box carefully, and prepared herself for the sight of the extravagant necklace when she’d open it.
She fingered the delicate clasp, and opened the box, thinking she’d keep the necklace with the dress so she’d dress faster when the time came.
But as she opened the box, she gasped out loud in terror.
“Oh, no!” she gasped. “Oh, Merlin, no!”
The case was empty.
Shoot! Merlin’s polka-dotted boxer shorts! I can’t lose that thing!
She rummaged around in the box in panic, putting a finger in every corner of the sleek red velvet unnecessarily – it was a small case, and what she saw was what she got.
The necklace wasn’t in the box.
It must’ve cost thousands and millions! Who knows!? The Malfoys’ bought it!
She started to hyperventilate, her eyes bugging out as she stared at the empty, serene sight of the case. It seemed to smirk at her.
Narcissa bought it! Narcissa! Draco’s freaking mother!
You’re in deep shit now, a snide voice in her sang, deep, deep shit, Ginevra Malfoy.
She shot out of the bed, and rummaged violently in the drawer, throwing out random things in search of that familiar glint of the heavy pearls.
No such familiar glint greeted her.
“SHIT!”
The floor was now littered with Draco’s cuff links, some bracelets, a box of her rings, and countless other priceless objects that were never supposed to lie cluttered in their bedroom.
“Shit, shit, shit ...” Ginny stumbled to the floor, picking up the things, dropping most of them as the picked them in her panic.
“Where. The. Heck. Has. It. GONE!” her voice rose spectacularly to a shriek as Ginny began to throw clothes out from her wardrobe in search of something that might be buried beneath.
“Mother?”
Ginny’s head whipped around to spot the sight of her nine year old son, looking at her quizzically from under the petticoat that was draped unfashionably over his head. He picked up the said item in shock, and cast it away on the bed with a slightly disgusted flick of his wrist. “What’s going on? Why are you throwing clothes around?”
“Xavier!” Ginny exclaimed, throwing back a bunch of underwear to stare at her son. “Oh – it’s the necklace your grandmother – Narcissa – had given me – it’s missing!” Ginny’s voice broke. “You have you seen it anywhere, dear?”
“Necklace?”
“Yes!” her eyes lit up with hope.
“Grandmother gave it to you?”
“Yes, yes!”
“Grandmother as in Grandma Cissy?”
“Yes, Xavier, yes!” Ginny’s hands clasped. “Have you seen it?!”
Xavier smirked in a way that instantly reminded Ginny of Draco. He lifted his young shoulders in a dramatically nonchalant shrug. “Nope.”
“Oh, Xavier!” Ginny wailed, crumpling back down on the bed. “It’s missing! I am going to be murdered!”
“You promise, Mother?”
“Now, don’t talk to me like that now! I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown here!” Ginny glared daggers and swords at her son from under the hands that covered her face – so she wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t in the least effected by it.
“Ha! Father’s going to blow his top!” Xavier snickered. “Ooh, this is going to be a fun evening!”
“I know, I know!” Ginny dropped her hands to glower at her son, and this time she was surprised that he wasn’t in the least effected by it – he raised an eyebrow at her dramatically narrowed eyes; he’s too much like Draco, Ginny thought mournfully. “If you can’t help me, Xavier Malfoy, I suggest you go right back to your room where you can’t bother me.”
Xavier grinned. “Sure, sure. I only came because you were screaming your head off.” He trotted off humming, and Ginny gritted her teeth. So much for motherly love.
Now Ginny, she thought to herself. Take a breather. She tried to. Now – think this out logically. Search the place without panicking. When’s the last time you saw the damned thing?
Ginny thought hard. When had been the last time she either taken out, or considered taking out the necklace?
But the thing is, Ginny thought, the tone of her mind screaming sardonicism with pride, the only time I would have ever considered taking it out for any reason before now would be when pigs fly.
She decided that she had seen it – very briefly – when she’d opened the drawer to look for her emerald earrings about three years ago. It’d been lying loosely in that plastic jewel box where she kept everything else. Not since, because seeing the necklace wasn’t exactly a stress-buster for her.
So that oh-so-logical train of thought came out with a total zip. She’d always assumed the necklace was safe and happy in its drawer, since she’d never taken it out of there. She remembered seeing it last when she’d carefully placed it in its exclusive velvet case, put the case in it’s place, and locked it with a resounding sigh of jubilance like she’d just won a war.
So I don’t know where it is right now, Ginny decided with a deep sense of foreboding. Her breath turned faster, and she gulped.
Calm, Ginny, calm, she told herself, take a chill pill. If you don’t find it – Ginny shuddered – well, break it to Draco reasonably and tactfully. About breaking it to Narcissa – Ginny whimpered – we’ll think about that later.
Reasonably and tactfully – there’s a stretch, Ginny thought sardonically.
She sighed, and got up. Apparently, the necklace was not in her wardrobe – unless it was tangled in between her panties, which was not altogether possible. It was not in the drawer.
On a sudden impulse Ginny ducked downward, and peeped under the bed. You never know, she defended herself.
All that was under the bed was some dust.
Ginny felt her panic rising again. Missing. It’s missing. It’s FREAKING missing.
Thousands ... hundreds and thousands of galleons.
Ginny tried to think clearly – Draco didn’t have to know. Not right now, at any rate. She could find her shoes, wear something else for the party, and when the occasion arose and Draco was in a nice and gooey mood, she could let him in on the secret. Perhaps Narcissa never had to know. She’s fifty-five now, Ginny reasoned, so she’ll live maybe another forty years at most. She won’t notice if I don’t wear the necklace for another forty years.
She won’t.
Right.
Ginny felt guilty at thinking of the woman’s death on her birthday – even if Ginny couldn’t say she loved Narcissa, she had come to respect, admire and like the older woman over the years.
Just don’t tell her.
Ginny nodded. This path, at least, found herself surviving. She skipped downstairs, and quickly picked up a pair of dainty white shoes with pretty stiletto heels.
It had taken only thirty seconds, during which Ginny had nearly fainted.
“Calming down in not working!” she said to herself desperately. “Ginevra, didn’t I tell you that you needn’t tell anyone?! Xavier can keep his mouth shut!”
She repeated the sentence in her head, convincing herself that nothing was to happen.
She repeated the sentence, and hated the very idea of putting the sentence into actions.
“Oh, Merlin,” she groaned. “Merlin, you know I can’t keep a secret! Especially from Draco!”
“Did you find it?” came Xavier’s voice from atop the stairs. She couldn’t hear that well, but it sounded like his words were followed by a muted snigger.
“No,” she answered desolately, wringing her hands. “No, I didn’t find it.”
“Good luck!” he called merrily, before he apparently scampered away again. But then he added, a few minutes ago, "I really do hope you find it, Mum."
Then he scampered away.
“Thanks,” Ginny muttered, smiling a little and fuming at the same time.
She sat back down in a wilted heap on the stool next to her shoe closet. She imagined Draco’s reaction, if she were to tell him.
He would be changing, perhaps. He would be wearing his deep green dress robes, and he would be looking stunning. He would be appraising himself in front of the mirror, when she would approach him.
“Draco ... I, uh ... I’ve ...”
“Do spit it out, Ginny. I thought you saved your incoherency just for your ridiculous years fawning over Potter.”
Perhaps she would snap at this statement. “I wasn’t incoherent around Harry!”
“Of course not. Not incoherent. You sounded more like an excited chipmunk with self-perception problems.” An amused chuckle there, as he secured a button on his jacket. “So anyway. What were you about to say?”
An unintelligible mumble: “I’ve lost that pearl necklace.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.” A little smirk there. “I have no idea what has you so pathetic, Ginny, but attempt to speak louder.”
Perhaps she would look up into his eyes squarely ... after all, she was known for her bold ways. “I can’t find that pearl necklace Narcissa gave me.”
Draco was practical, for the most part. Calm and logical, at all times. Maybe he’d frown angrily, and grit his teeth. “When is the last time you saw or handled it?” – through his teeth.
“Um ... I don’t remember having done so ... in a while.”
His nostrils would flare. “A while,” he would repeat scathingly. “By which you obviously mean a very long, very careless time.”
She would have no choice but to nod curtly, fighting to keep her eyes on his face and off her shoes.
His eyes ... the color of cold slate – stormy, piercing grey. They would flash with fury. Flash, like pewter set on fire. His fingers would clench to tight fists. His face would pale with anger, his full mouth would open to cuss the hell out a–
No, Ginny decided, shaking her head vigorously and attempting to drive that image into oblivion, damning her too-vivid imagination. No, it won’t be like that.
His beautiful eyes would harden, from liquid to solid, like a chip of dark ice. His full mouth would become a thin, terse line. “You have lost the pearl necklace my mother gifted to you – the necklace of thousands and hundreds of galleons, that she had offered you with so much love.”
She would most definitely spark up here – her desperation would combine with his coldness to bring interesting results. “Yes, Draco, that’s what I said. And don’t think I didn’t think of how much it cost, and all that when I couldn’t find it. I’m not a mental mute.”
“I sure as well hope not, because you had better find that necklace, Ginevra. I won’t have my mother distressed or disrespected in that way.”
“Look, I tried, okay?! And I’ve not completely given up!”
He would glower fiercely. “I should hope not. If you had, Ginevra” – his eyes would narrow dangerously, silver slits – “I would have been very angry indeed.”
“Ginny!” she whispered fiercely to herself. “This is not helping!” She held her head in her hands, wishing desperately for some solitary ray of pure sunlight to enter the room through the window, and shed brightness upon a pearl necklace at her feet.
Or if there were a puff of smoke, through which a thick gold, shiny pearl necklace would materialize in front of her, that wouldn’t be uncalled for, either.
Where are fairy godmothers when you need them, anyway? Ginny demanded.
She got up, and checked the clock on the living room wall. It told her sternly that it was time she readied lunch. Draco would return in approximately an hour, and they would leave for the party in exactly two.
She absently prepared lunch, quickly stuffing things into the oven and cutting up a wholesome salad. And then, she realized, she’d done it all too quickly. It would’ve been nice to escape uninterrupted thinking for a little while more.
How disappointed Draco would be! If only she could find the necklace. She just didn’t know where to search now ... and plus, she’d always sucked at searching of any kind. Her own baubles – like a greenish blue marble, or a dried leaf that had turned a lovely shade of peach when kept between her books, or an old alarm clock that she’d had a sentimental sort of affection for because it was the one that woke Ron up (and irritated the crap out of him) everyday were all things that mattered only to her – and they’d been kept very carefully. Those things were all under a loose floorboard back home.
But this necklace, on the other hand ... since there wasn’t much love lost between her and that item of jewelry, she’d told herself the necklace was just fine in that drawer.
That drawer, Ginny sniffed, I will never put my trust in inanimate objects again.
EVER again.
That image of Draco’s hard gaze kept coming to her mind. She imagined a different situation desperately, convincing herself that her mental-characterization had been poor the previous time -- she’d been so desperate that she’d fabricated very untrue pictures.
Draco would never react that way. Ever. Hell, no ... that wasn’t Draco at all.
So.
He would be kind and tender and warm. He would understand, and comfort.
Yes.
“Draco ... I’ve lost that pearl necklace.”
His eyes would be warm grey, and his whole face would be understanding and forgiving. She would swell with relief. He’d smile warmly, kindly. She expected he would comfort her, tell her it didn’t matter, admonish her for stressing herself in such an unhealthy manner.
“What pearl necklace, Ginny, my love?”
“No,” Ginny groaned, “this is worse!”
She bit her lip. The previous picture, the one she’d had first, would be the right one. She had to face the brutal reality. Draco would react that way. He was Draco, not Harry. She knew him so well ... nine years of marriage would not allow her to console herself with untrue pretenses.
Now what am I going to do?
X
The bell rang, around half an hour later, and Ginny lurched up to swing open the door, and predictably, she was faced by the smirking form of her silver-haired husband.
She stared at him, pushing down the urged to jump over him and kiss the hell out of him. The automatic wide smile spread across her face.
“Hello,” he said wryly. “You can let me in now, Ginny.”
She blushed. “Um, yeah,” she mumbled, and stood aside for him to enter. He leant down to kiss her swiftly, and walked in, draping his coat across the couch.
“We made the deal,” he told her smugly, referring to a business contract he’d been trying to make for a few weeks, “the manager was putty to our capable hands.” He sat down on the couch, and kicked off his shoes.
“Congrats,” Ginny said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “That’s great.”
“I know.” He smirked briefly.
Then he scrutinized her face, his eyes tightening. He stood up slowly, and walked toward her, still staring thoughtfully into her face. With a slender, long finger, he pulled her face up.
“What’s wrong?” he said softly. “Is everything all right?”
TELL HIM! TELL HIM! TELL HIM! TELL HIM!
“No,” she denied immediately, “everything’s fine.” She considered again the idea of not telling Draco – of keeping it her deep dark secret for a little while longer. Could she keep anything from Draco, when she'd never been able to before in her life?
“Are you sure?” his brow creased, “you look very tense.”
TELL HIM, YOU IDIOT!
That seemed to answer her question.
“Oh, nothing,” she shrugged, smiling half-heartedly, “I guess I’m just nervous about the party.”
“Why are you nervous?” he leant closer, his lips grazing her cheek. “You’ll look lovely,” he murmured, pausing at the corner of her lips. “And you’ll be with me ...”
She stopped breathing, and impulsively crushed her lips to his.
She might as well enjoy him when he was in a good mood.
She twined her fingers in his silky hair, while his hands caressed her waist and drew her closer to him. He tasted wonderful, and his warm, exciting tongue lined her bottom lip before expertly entering her mouth.
“Oooh...”
After a few minutes, he pulled away, his eyes bright. “We have to have lunch,” he said softly, and Ginny was pleased to note his voice was husky. “To be continued...” he murmured playfully, “at night.”
Night, Ginny groaned in her head, night is going to a fiasco!
And it came back, that snide, irritating voice.
TELL HIM, YOU BIG, FAT FOOL! TELL HIM! WHY CAN’T YOU TELL HIM?? TELL HIM!
“Yes, the night,” she agreed quietly.
X
Lunch had been a quiet affair for Ginny – Draco had complimented her sarcastically for finally “ruining the food around here” as he ate, for which Ginny had glared half-heartedly. Draco had ruffled his son’s hair in greeting, and Xavier and Draco had had an amusing conversation on the many benefits of Xavier getting a new toy.
Ginny had stared into her plate. It had become a chant in her head.
TELL HIM! TELL HIM, OR ELSE! TELL HIM NOW!
TELL HIM RIGHT NOW!
So now she was getting ready for the party, and, like her musing, he was admiring himself in the mirror in a way only Draco could and still look sophisticated and handsome.
Except, unlike her earlier image, this Draco was dressed in nothing but black underwear. And he was admiring the smooth, impressive six-pack in his lean form, and the rippling muscles in his arms.
Ginny could feel her mouth watering.
Oh, utter crap! Ginny swore. She’d already put on her dress. Now was when the jewelry had to come on ... and therefore, the disaster was on it’s way.
And then she noted the wet towel on the ground, dampening the floor, and felt a prick of annoyance. “Draco,” she scolded, “why is your towel on the ground?”
He turned to smirk at her. “I just left it where it fell.”
“Ugh.” She shook her head, and he grinned.
But then, she thought involuntarily of that image that had come to her head:
“I would be very angry indeed.” Draco’s cold eyes.
Goddamn!
She took a deep breath.
“Uh, Draco?”
“Yes, Ginny, I won't mind if you start to drool,” Draco teased, smirking a little.
“Oh, forget wastage of saliva, I might just swoon,” she rolled her eyes, though she knew that she would never be able to resist that flawless specimen of male attractiveness standing in front of her, so close–
STOP DREAMING AND TELL HIM!
“It’s not about that,” she said seriously. She stood in front of him. She couldn't help it. She had to tell him ... or she would be consumed by guilt.
“Well, you look nice, too, I have to admit,” he said smirking. “Except, you’re wearing a little too many clothes for my tastes, really.”
“Well, I'm sorry I don't suit 'your tastes' right now,” she flushed.
YOU GOON! TELL HIM THIS MOMENT!
“But” – she was serious again – “there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Do get on with it, then.”
“Promise me you won’t get mad,” she pleaded, though she knew it was a lost cause.
Draco shrugged. “I can't say that,” he said, looking amused. “How would I know what horrendous thing you have done if you don't tell me?”
"Horrendous," Ginny scoffed. “Draco, I...” She took another deep breath. “I can’t find that pearl necklace, Draco.”
She looked up at him beseechingly. His face was calm.
“Sorry?”
“That pearl necklace,” she repeated hopelessly. “I can’t find it.”
“Oh.” His face was blank. “The one my mother gifted you?”
This was going a lot like the scene her imagination had presented. Like she knew it would. She stared at his calm face, all the panic of the last few hours seeming to rise higher and higher. Her lip trembled. "Yes," she whispered.
And then it broke loose.
“Yes!” she exclaimed, stamping her foot, her arms rising to gesticulate wildly. “I thought it would be in here, in this drawer, but it wasn’t!” She glared at him, as if it were all his fault – in some part of her mind she acknowledged that she was making things worse for herself, but she couldn’t care.
“It wasn’t in here! It just disappeared! Just disappeared! I was so worried!” She stamped her foot again, glaring fiercely at the surprised Draco, not noting that there was something different from what she had expected in his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, Draco, don’t!” she shouted, though she wasn’t really aware of what look was on Draco’s face. “I have searched every inch of this house! Every inch, Draco! It isn’t here! And don’t tell me how much it costs, I can guess!”
Her face was hot, and she heard three loud thumps, which she realized was her stomping her foot again. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, okay? I didn’t! So you have no right to be mad at me! None at all! I have tried my best to find the damn thing, but I can't find it!” she said shrilly. Her head suddenly snapped toward the door. "And Xavier, don't you dare come in here! Don't you dare!" She glowered at the door, and Draco was sure Voldemort himself wouldn't dare enter the room. “So I’m not responsible for this mess, okay? I. Am. NOT!”
With a last, resounding thump of her foot on the ground, she folded her arms across her chest, her head pounding, and glared balefully at the still blank Draco. “I am not responsible for this mess!” she repeated loudly again, more to drill it into her own head than his. She didn't understand why she could have been so stressed. It was not her fault.
“Of course not,” Draco murmured softly.
“I don’t want to hear what you’re saying, Draco, I don’t! Because you’ll be unreasonable no matter wha–” she paused, staring. “Um, what did you just say?”
Draco smirked. “I said, of course this isn’t your fault.”
“Huh?”
Draco chuckled softly, which soon broke out into a long, deep peal of laughter. “Oh, Ginny, you looked so amusing. You wouldn’t believe it.”
She growled. “This is not funny!”
Why wasn't he angry at her? Why was he laughing?
“Of course it is,” he disagreed, and his silver eyes gleamed with humor. “Especially when you realize that this necklace you speak of was with me all this time.”
She stared at him, her mouth falling open.
He chuckled again.
“Huh?” she repeated, not caring that she sounded slightly retarded.
“Ginny,” he said slowly. “The necklace is with me.”
Ginny gulped in a breath. “W-what do you mean?” she managed.
“I was in a hurry to get to work this morning, as you will remember,” he began, sinking down on the bed. “I was looking for those bronze cuff links in that drawer. You were in the shower,” he explained. “And then, this necklace fell out of it’s box, along with my box of cuff links. So in my hurry, I picked my cuff links, and pocketed the necklace, since I had no time to keep it properly.” He began to dress, pulling on the pants of his dress robes, and shrugged. “Once I reached office, I realized I had the necklace with me.”
He stood up, hopping a little bit, gracefully of course, as he pulled on the emerald green robes. He wasn’t looking at her. “You know how it happens,” he muttered. “You are in a hurry, and you make a little mess, you tend to stuff everything anywhere possible.” He straightened the buckles on his robes.
Ginny was staring at him during his absent speech, her mouth hanging open.
There were waves of relief washing over her, and the waves felt nice.
The necklace was safe. She hadn’t lost it.
It had been with Draco. He’d had it, all this time – she had never lost it. He’d had it.
Before Ginny could beam in happiness, that struck in.
Draco’d had the necklace.
All this time.
“You looked quite a sight, shouting at me like that,” Draco was saying, pulling up his collar as he peered into the mirror with satisfaction. “Your cheeks were so red, and your eyes flashed.” A brief smirk flashed past his face, but he still wasn’t looking at her. He flicked a bit of lint from the sleeve of his robes. “Thank goodness it wasn’t lost, in any case,” he continued. “That is a very precious necklace. I hope you’re relieved now.” He was dressed, and he finally looked at Ginny, expecting to see her beaming at him thankfully.
He was very surprised.
“All this time,” she said in a tight, controlled voice.
Draco’s eyes widened. Ginny’s jaw was clenched, and her eyes sparkled.
“All. This. Time,” she repeated, her voice shaking a little.
“Sorry?”
“You have had the necklace all this time,” Ginny said loudly, moving toward him impossibly quickly, until she was but an inch away from him, and she was glaring up at him with all the energy of the red-hot sun. “Draco,” she spoke through clenched teeth.
“Yes?” He was surprised – but of course, Ginny always surprised him. That was something he adored about her.
And now she looked magnificent – her fiery hair falling around her face, her amber eyes beaming, bright spots of flaming red coloring her cheeks.
She looked magnificent ... and Draco recognized that she was very, very angry.
“You,” she said loudly, poking a finger into his chest, “are in big, big trouble.”
Ah, wonderful, Draco suppressed a smirk.
"I would be terrified if I were you." She growled.
Wonderful.
Now he was scared. Who knew what brutal punishments she had planned for him this night?
“White’s better,” she muttered, throwing the blue headlong back into the wardrobe, in true Ginny-fashion. It was just one of those shades of ‘royal blue’ that looked hideous with her fiery hair, and it would never do.
I wonder what it will be like, Ginny mused, sitting down on the bed, Narcissa’s fifty-fifth birthday party. Wow. Somehow, the idea of a ‘birthday party’, which was always related to children and balloons and cakes in Ginny’s mind, was hard to reconcile with the intimidating, beautiful, sophisticated images her mother-in-law Narcissa Malfoy brought. But this was more like a formal ball, with hundreds of Narcissa’s acquaintances coming, so the word ‘party’ didn’t really apply.
Ginny wished she had Draco here to help her choose what to wear. Sure, he would have suggested she take all clothes off altogether in the end, something she was not really opposed to if he complied too, but his opinions were usually good, if a little picky.
She leaned back on the pillows. She still had hours to get ready – the party was only in the evening. Draco’d come back from his office at Malfoy Enterprises in a little while; he was the boss, so he didn’t really have to work very hard. He’d told her to get everything planned before he came.
Might as well get on with it, Ginny thought grimly. I really can’t wait till it’s over. Narcissa still scares me a little bit. She jumped up from the bed, and lay the pretty white gown neatly on the bed. Dress – check.
Now she just had to decide about the jewelry and shoes ... and then she had to get dinner ready. Their house-elf, Jibby, was feeling a little queasy, so Ginny had kindly consented to take over the kitchen. Hermione would be proud, she thought dryly.
She pondered what jewelry she would wear. What necklace would go well with this dress? The amethyst pendant mightn’t contrast well with the milky white of her gown. The onyx necklet was out, because she didn’t like onyxes anyway – it was a gift from her Auntie Muriel, who would see perfectly fit to give her what she knew Ginny didn’t like.
Pearls would be perfect, Ginny decided. But the only one that came to mind was the exquisite necklace that was a gift from Narcissa herself.
It would make Narcissa extremely happy to see Ginny wear it. Draco would be even more happy – surprisingly, he had a fierce sort of affection for his mother, and wouldn’t have a word said against her.
But Ginny hated the necklace. It was too expensive, too large, too ... gaudy to suit her tastes. I might look good in it, Ginny accepted, and Draco’s been telling me to wear that necklace for a long time. But the sight of the thick pearls in their heavy gold chain made Ginny shudder. Weasleys’ aren’t used to such stuff.
But it would go perfectly with the gown. I suppose I can survive it for one evening, Ginny grimaced. It can’t hurt.
Anything Narcissa-related had a special, high place on Draco’s list of priorities. This necklace was kept safely hidden in a red velvet case in little drawer in Ginny’s wardrobe, secured with a key that was equally well hidden, along with their other priceless baubles. Ginny pursed her lips and retrieved the key from its special nook in the room, and stuffed it into the ornate keyhole in her wardrobe, rattling it resignedly.
She picked out the scarlet velvet box carefully, and prepared herself for the sight of the extravagant necklace when she’d open it.
She fingered the delicate clasp, and opened the box, thinking she’d keep the necklace with the dress so she’d dress faster when the time came.
But as she opened the box, she gasped out loud in terror.
“Oh, no!” she gasped. “Oh, Merlin, no!”
The case was empty.
Shoot! Merlin’s polka-dotted boxer shorts! I can’t lose that thing!
She rummaged around in the box in panic, putting a finger in every corner of the sleek red velvet unnecessarily – it was a small case, and what she saw was what she got.
The necklace wasn’t in the box.
It must’ve cost thousands and millions! Who knows!? The Malfoys’ bought it!
She started to hyperventilate, her eyes bugging out as she stared at the empty, serene sight of the case. It seemed to smirk at her.
Narcissa bought it! Narcissa! Draco’s freaking mother!
You’re in deep shit now, a snide voice in her sang, deep, deep shit, Ginevra Malfoy.
She shot out of the bed, and rummaged violently in the drawer, throwing out random things in search of that familiar glint of the heavy pearls.
No such familiar glint greeted her.
“SHIT!”
The floor was now littered with Draco’s cuff links, some bracelets, a box of her rings, and countless other priceless objects that were never supposed to lie cluttered in their bedroom.
“Shit, shit, shit ...” Ginny stumbled to the floor, picking up the things, dropping most of them as the picked them in her panic.
“Where. The. Heck. Has. It. GONE!” her voice rose spectacularly to a shriek as Ginny began to throw clothes out from her wardrobe in search of something that might be buried beneath.
“Mother?”
Ginny’s head whipped around to spot the sight of her nine year old son, looking at her quizzically from under the petticoat that was draped unfashionably over his head. He picked up the said item in shock, and cast it away on the bed with a slightly disgusted flick of his wrist. “What’s going on? Why are you throwing clothes around?”
“Xavier!” Ginny exclaimed, throwing back a bunch of underwear to stare at her son. “Oh – it’s the necklace your grandmother – Narcissa – had given me – it’s missing!” Ginny’s voice broke. “You have you seen it anywhere, dear?”
“Necklace?”
“Yes!” her eyes lit up with hope.
“Grandmother gave it to you?”
“Yes, yes!”
“Grandmother as in Grandma Cissy?”
“Yes, Xavier, yes!” Ginny’s hands clasped. “Have you seen it?!”
Xavier smirked in a way that instantly reminded Ginny of Draco. He lifted his young shoulders in a dramatically nonchalant shrug. “Nope.”
“Oh, Xavier!” Ginny wailed, crumpling back down on the bed. “It’s missing! I am going to be murdered!”
“You promise, Mother?”
“Now, don’t talk to me like that now! I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown here!” Ginny glared daggers and swords at her son from under the hands that covered her face – so she wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t in the least effected by it.
“Ha! Father’s going to blow his top!” Xavier snickered. “Ooh, this is going to be a fun evening!”
“I know, I know!” Ginny dropped her hands to glower at her son, and this time she was surprised that he wasn’t in the least effected by it – he raised an eyebrow at her dramatically narrowed eyes; he’s too much like Draco, Ginny thought mournfully. “If you can’t help me, Xavier Malfoy, I suggest you go right back to your room where you can’t bother me.”
Xavier grinned. “Sure, sure. I only came because you were screaming your head off.” He trotted off humming, and Ginny gritted her teeth. So much for motherly love.
Now Ginny, she thought to herself. Take a breather. She tried to. Now – think this out logically. Search the place without panicking. When’s the last time you saw the damned thing?
Ginny thought hard. When had been the last time she either taken out, or considered taking out the necklace?
But the thing is, Ginny thought, the tone of her mind screaming sardonicism with pride, the only time I would have ever considered taking it out for any reason before now would be when pigs fly.
She decided that she had seen it – very briefly – when she’d opened the drawer to look for her emerald earrings about three years ago. It’d been lying loosely in that plastic jewel box where she kept everything else. Not since, because seeing the necklace wasn’t exactly a stress-buster for her.
So that oh-so-logical train of thought came out with a total zip. She’d always assumed the necklace was safe and happy in its drawer, since she’d never taken it out of there. She remembered seeing it last when she’d carefully placed it in its exclusive velvet case, put the case in it’s place, and locked it with a resounding sigh of jubilance like she’d just won a war.
So I don’t know where it is right now, Ginny decided with a deep sense of foreboding. Her breath turned faster, and she gulped.
Calm, Ginny, calm, she told herself, take a chill pill. If you don’t find it – Ginny shuddered – well, break it to Draco reasonably and tactfully. About breaking it to Narcissa – Ginny whimpered – we’ll think about that later.
Reasonably and tactfully – there’s a stretch, Ginny thought sardonically.
She sighed, and got up. Apparently, the necklace was not in her wardrobe – unless it was tangled in between her panties, which was not altogether possible. It was not in the drawer.
On a sudden impulse Ginny ducked downward, and peeped under the bed. You never know, she defended herself.
All that was under the bed was some dust.
Ginny felt her panic rising again. Missing. It’s missing. It’s FREAKING missing.
Thousands ... hundreds and thousands of galleons.
Ginny tried to think clearly – Draco didn’t have to know. Not right now, at any rate. She could find her shoes, wear something else for the party, and when the occasion arose and Draco was in a nice and gooey mood, she could let him in on the secret. Perhaps Narcissa never had to know. She’s fifty-five now, Ginny reasoned, so she’ll live maybe another forty years at most. She won’t notice if I don’t wear the necklace for another forty years.
She won’t.
Right.
Ginny felt guilty at thinking of the woman’s death on her birthday – even if Ginny couldn’t say she loved Narcissa, she had come to respect, admire and like the older woman over the years.
Just don’t tell her.
Ginny nodded. This path, at least, found herself surviving. She skipped downstairs, and quickly picked up a pair of dainty white shoes with pretty stiletto heels.
It had taken only thirty seconds, during which Ginny had nearly fainted.
“Calming down in not working!” she said to herself desperately. “Ginevra, didn’t I tell you that you needn’t tell anyone?! Xavier can keep his mouth shut!”
She repeated the sentence in her head, convincing herself that nothing was to happen.
She repeated the sentence, and hated the very idea of putting the sentence into actions.
“Oh, Merlin,” she groaned. “Merlin, you know I can’t keep a secret! Especially from Draco!”
“Did you find it?” came Xavier’s voice from atop the stairs. She couldn’t hear that well, but it sounded like his words were followed by a muted snigger.
“No,” she answered desolately, wringing her hands. “No, I didn’t find it.”
“Good luck!” he called merrily, before he apparently scampered away again. But then he added, a few minutes ago, "I really do hope you find it, Mum."
Then he scampered away.
“Thanks,” Ginny muttered, smiling a little and fuming at the same time.
She sat back down in a wilted heap on the stool next to her shoe closet. She imagined Draco’s reaction, if she were to tell him.
He would be changing, perhaps. He would be wearing his deep green dress robes, and he would be looking stunning. He would be appraising himself in front of the mirror, when she would approach him.
“Draco ... I, uh ... I’ve ...”
“Do spit it out, Ginny. I thought you saved your incoherency just for your ridiculous years fawning over Potter.”
Perhaps she would snap at this statement. “I wasn’t incoherent around Harry!”
“Of course not. Not incoherent. You sounded more like an excited chipmunk with self-perception problems.” An amused chuckle there, as he secured a button on his jacket. “So anyway. What were you about to say?”
An unintelligible mumble: “I’ve lost that pearl necklace.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.” A little smirk there. “I have no idea what has you so pathetic, Ginny, but attempt to speak louder.”
Perhaps she would look up into his eyes squarely ... after all, she was known for her bold ways. “I can’t find that pearl necklace Narcissa gave me.”
Draco was practical, for the most part. Calm and logical, at all times. Maybe he’d frown angrily, and grit his teeth. “When is the last time you saw or handled it?” – through his teeth.
“Um ... I don’t remember having done so ... in a while.”
His nostrils would flare. “A while,” he would repeat scathingly. “By which you obviously mean a very long, very careless time.”
She would have no choice but to nod curtly, fighting to keep her eyes on his face and off her shoes.
His eyes ... the color of cold slate – stormy, piercing grey. They would flash with fury. Flash, like pewter set on fire. His fingers would clench to tight fists. His face would pale with anger, his full mouth would open to cuss the hell out a–
No, Ginny decided, shaking her head vigorously and attempting to drive that image into oblivion, damning her too-vivid imagination. No, it won’t be like that.
His beautiful eyes would harden, from liquid to solid, like a chip of dark ice. His full mouth would become a thin, terse line. “You have lost the pearl necklace my mother gifted to you – the necklace of thousands and hundreds of galleons, that she had offered you with so much love.”
She would most definitely spark up here – her desperation would combine with his coldness to bring interesting results. “Yes, Draco, that’s what I said. And don’t think I didn’t think of how much it cost, and all that when I couldn’t find it. I’m not a mental mute.”
“I sure as well hope not, because you had better find that necklace, Ginevra. I won’t have my mother distressed or disrespected in that way.”
“Look, I tried, okay?! And I’ve not completely given up!”
He would glower fiercely. “I should hope not. If you had, Ginevra” – his eyes would narrow dangerously, silver slits – “I would have been very angry indeed.”
“Ginny!” she whispered fiercely to herself. “This is not helping!” She held her head in her hands, wishing desperately for some solitary ray of pure sunlight to enter the room through the window, and shed brightness upon a pearl necklace at her feet.
Or if there were a puff of smoke, through which a thick gold, shiny pearl necklace would materialize in front of her, that wouldn’t be uncalled for, either.
Where are fairy godmothers when you need them, anyway? Ginny demanded.
She got up, and checked the clock on the living room wall. It told her sternly that it was time she readied lunch. Draco would return in approximately an hour, and they would leave for the party in exactly two.
She absently prepared lunch, quickly stuffing things into the oven and cutting up a wholesome salad. And then, she realized, she’d done it all too quickly. It would’ve been nice to escape uninterrupted thinking for a little while more.
How disappointed Draco would be! If only she could find the necklace. She just didn’t know where to search now ... and plus, she’d always sucked at searching of any kind. Her own baubles – like a greenish blue marble, or a dried leaf that had turned a lovely shade of peach when kept between her books, or an old alarm clock that she’d had a sentimental sort of affection for because it was the one that woke Ron up (and irritated the crap out of him) everyday were all things that mattered only to her – and they’d been kept very carefully. Those things were all under a loose floorboard back home.
But this necklace, on the other hand ... since there wasn’t much love lost between her and that item of jewelry, she’d told herself the necklace was just fine in that drawer.
That drawer, Ginny sniffed, I will never put my trust in inanimate objects again.
EVER again.
That image of Draco’s hard gaze kept coming to her mind. She imagined a different situation desperately, convincing herself that her mental-characterization had been poor the previous time -- she’d been so desperate that she’d fabricated very untrue pictures.
Draco would never react that way. Ever. Hell, no ... that wasn’t Draco at all.
So.
He would be kind and tender and warm. He would understand, and comfort.
Yes.
“Draco ... I’ve lost that pearl necklace.”
His eyes would be warm grey, and his whole face would be understanding and forgiving. She would swell with relief. He’d smile warmly, kindly. She expected he would comfort her, tell her it didn’t matter, admonish her for stressing herself in such an unhealthy manner.
“What pearl necklace, Ginny, my love?”
“No,” Ginny groaned, “this is worse!”
She bit her lip. The previous picture, the one she’d had first, would be the right one. She had to face the brutal reality. Draco would react that way. He was Draco, not Harry. She knew him so well ... nine years of marriage would not allow her to console herself with untrue pretenses.
Now what am I going to do?
The bell rang, around half an hour later, and Ginny lurched up to swing open the door, and predictably, she was faced by the smirking form of her silver-haired husband.
She stared at him, pushing down the urged to jump over him and kiss the hell out of him. The automatic wide smile spread across her face.
“Hello,” he said wryly. “You can let me in now, Ginny.”
She blushed. “Um, yeah,” she mumbled, and stood aside for him to enter. He leant down to kiss her swiftly, and walked in, draping his coat across the couch.
“We made the deal,” he told her smugly, referring to a business contract he’d been trying to make for a few weeks, “the manager was putty to our capable hands.” He sat down on the couch, and kicked off his shoes.
“Congrats,” Ginny said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “That’s great.”
“I know.” He smirked briefly.
Then he scrutinized her face, his eyes tightening. He stood up slowly, and walked toward her, still staring thoughtfully into her face. With a slender, long finger, he pulled her face up.
“What’s wrong?” he said softly. “Is everything all right?”
TELL HIM! TELL HIM! TELL HIM! TELL HIM!
“No,” she denied immediately, “everything’s fine.” She considered again the idea of not telling Draco – of keeping it her deep dark secret for a little while longer. Could she keep anything from Draco, when she'd never been able to before in her life?
“Are you sure?” his brow creased, “you look very tense.”
TELL HIM, YOU IDIOT!
That seemed to answer her question.
“Oh, nothing,” she shrugged, smiling half-heartedly, “I guess I’m just nervous about the party.”
“Why are you nervous?” he leant closer, his lips grazing her cheek. “You’ll look lovely,” he murmured, pausing at the corner of her lips. “And you’ll be with me ...”
She stopped breathing, and impulsively crushed her lips to his.
She might as well enjoy him when he was in a good mood.
She twined her fingers in his silky hair, while his hands caressed her waist and drew her closer to him. He tasted wonderful, and his warm, exciting tongue lined her bottom lip before expertly entering her mouth.
“Oooh...”
After a few minutes, he pulled away, his eyes bright. “We have to have lunch,” he said softly, and Ginny was pleased to note his voice was husky. “To be continued...” he murmured playfully, “at night.”
Night, Ginny groaned in her head, night is going to a fiasco!
And it came back, that snide, irritating voice.
TELL HIM, YOU BIG, FAT FOOL! TELL HIM! WHY CAN’T YOU TELL HIM?? TELL HIM!
“Yes, the night,” she agreed quietly.
Lunch had been a quiet affair for Ginny – Draco had complimented her sarcastically for finally “ruining the food around here” as he ate, for which Ginny had glared half-heartedly. Draco had ruffled his son’s hair in greeting, and Xavier and Draco had had an amusing conversation on the many benefits of Xavier getting a new toy.
Ginny had stared into her plate. It had become a chant in her head.
TELL HIM! TELL HIM, OR ELSE! TELL HIM NOW!
TELL HIM RIGHT NOW!
So now she was getting ready for the party, and, like her musing, he was admiring himself in the mirror in a way only Draco could and still look sophisticated and handsome.
Except, unlike her earlier image, this Draco was dressed in nothing but black underwear. And he was admiring the smooth, impressive six-pack in his lean form, and the rippling muscles in his arms.
Ginny could feel her mouth watering.
Oh, utter crap! Ginny swore. She’d already put on her dress. Now was when the jewelry had to come on ... and therefore, the disaster was on it’s way.
And then she noted the wet towel on the ground, dampening the floor, and felt a prick of annoyance. “Draco,” she scolded, “why is your towel on the ground?”
He turned to smirk at her. “I just left it where it fell.”
“Ugh.” She shook her head, and he grinned.
But then, she thought involuntarily of that image that had come to her head:
“I would be very angry indeed.” Draco’s cold eyes.
Goddamn!
She took a deep breath.
“Uh, Draco?”
“Yes, Ginny, I won't mind if you start to drool,” Draco teased, smirking a little.
“Oh, forget wastage of saliva, I might just swoon,” she rolled her eyes, though she knew that she would never be able to resist that flawless specimen of male attractiveness standing in front of her, so close–
STOP DREAMING AND TELL HIM!
“It’s not about that,” she said seriously. She stood in front of him. She couldn't help it. She had to tell him ... or she would be consumed by guilt.
“Well, you look nice, too, I have to admit,” he said smirking. “Except, you’re wearing a little too many clothes for my tastes, really.”
“Well, I'm sorry I don't suit 'your tastes' right now,” she flushed.
YOU GOON! TELL HIM THIS MOMENT!
“But” – she was serious again – “there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Do get on with it, then.”
“Promise me you won’t get mad,” she pleaded, though she knew it was a lost cause.
Draco shrugged. “I can't say that,” he said, looking amused. “How would I know what horrendous thing you have done if you don't tell me?”
"Horrendous," Ginny scoffed. “Draco, I...” She took another deep breath. “I can’t find that pearl necklace, Draco.”
She looked up at him beseechingly. His face was calm.
“Sorry?”
“That pearl necklace,” she repeated hopelessly. “I can’t find it.”
“Oh.” His face was blank. “The one my mother gifted you?”
This was going a lot like the scene her imagination had presented. Like she knew it would. She stared at his calm face, all the panic of the last few hours seeming to rise higher and higher. Her lip trembled. "Yes," she whispered.
And then it broke loose.
“Yes!” she exclaimed, stamping her foot, her arms rising to gesticulate wildly. “I thought it would be in here, in this drawer, but it wasn’t!” She glared at him, as if it were all his fault – in some part of her mind she acknowledged that she was making things worse for herself, but she couldn’t care.
“It wasn’t in here! It just disappeared! Just disappeared! I was so worried!” She stamped her foot again, glaring fiercely at the surprised Draco, not noting that there was something different from what she had expected in his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, Draco, don’t!” she shouted, though she wasn’t really aware of what look was on Draco’s face. “I have searched every inch of this house! Every inch, Draco! It isn’t here! And don’t tell me how much it costs, I can guess!”
Her face was hot, and she heard three loud thumps, which she realized was her stomping her foot again. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, okay? I didn’t! So you have no right to be mad at me! None at all! I have tried my best to find the damn thing, but I can't find it!” she said shrilly. Her head suddenly snapped toward the door. "And Xavier, don't you dare come in here! Don't you dare!" She glowered at the door, and Draco was sure Voldemort himself wouldn't dare enter the room. “So I’m not responsible for this mess, okay? I. Am. NOT!”
With a last, resounding thump of her foot on the ground, she folded her arms across her chest, her head pounding, and glared balefully at the still blank Draco. “I am not responsible for this mess!” she repeated loudly again, more to drill it into her own head than his. She didn't understand why she could have been so stressed. It was not her fault.
“Of course not,” Draco murmured softly.
“I don’t want to hear what you’re saying, Draco, I don’t! Because you’ll be unreasonable no matter wha–” she paused, staring. “Um, what did you just say?”
Draco smirked. “I said, of course this isn’t your fault.”
“Huh?”
Draco chuckled softly, which soon broke out into a long, deep peal of laughter. “Oh, Ginny, you looked so amusing. You wouldn’t believe it.”
She growled. “This is not funny!”
Why wasn't he angry at her? Why was he laughing?
“Of course it is,” he disagreed, and his silver eyes gleamed with humor. “Especially when you realize that this necklace you speak of was with me all this time.”
She stared at him, her mouth falling open.
He chuckled again.
“Huh?” she repeated, not caring that she sounded slightly retarded.
“Ginny,” he said slowly. “The necklace is with me.”
Ginny gulped in a breath. “W-what do you mean?” she managed.
“I was in a hurry to get to work this morning, as you will remember,” he began, sinking down on the bed. “I was looking for those bronze cuff links in that drawer. You were in the shower,” he explained. “And then, this necklace fell out of it’s box, along with my box of cuff links. So in my hurry, I picked my cuff links, and pocketed the necklace, since I had no time to keep it properly.” He began to dress, pulling on the pants of his dress robes, and shrugged. “Once I reached office, I realized I had the necklace with me.”
He stood up, hopping a little bit, gracefully of course, as he pulled on the emerald green robes. He wasn’t looking at her. “You know how it happens,” he muttered. “You are in a hurry, and you make a little mess, you tend to stuff everything anywhere possible.” He straightened the buckles on his robes.
Ginny was staring at him during his absent speech, her mouth hanging open.
There were waves of relief washing over her, and the waves felt nice.
The necklace was safe. She hadn’t lost it.
It had been with Draco. He’d had it, all this time – she had never lost it. He’d had it.
Before Ginny could beam in happiness, that struck in.
Draco’d had the necklace.
All this time.
“You looked quite a sight, shouting at me like that,” Draco was saying, pulling up his collar as he peered into the mirror with satisfaction. “Your cheeks were so red, and your eyes flashed.” A brief smirk flashed past his face, but he still wasn’t looking at her. He flicked a bit of lint from the sleeve of his robes. “Thank goodness it wasn’t lost, in any case,” he continued. “That is a very precious necklace. I hope you’re relieved now.” He was dressed, and he finally looked at Ginny, expecting to see her beaming at him thankfully.
He was very surprised.
“All this time,” she said in a tight, controlled voice.
Draco’s eyes widened. Ginny’s jaw was clenched, and her eyes sparkled.
“All. This. Time,” she repeated, her voice shaking a little.
“Sorry?”
“You have had the necklace all this time,” Ginny said loudly, moving toward him impossibly quickly, until she was but an inch away from him, and she was glaring up at him with all the energy of the red-hot sun. “Draco,” she spoke through clenched teeth.
“Yes?” He was surprised – but of course, Ginny always surprised him. That was something he adored about her.
And now she looked magnificent – her fiery hair falling around her face, her amber eyes beaming, bright spots of flaming red coloring her cheeks.
She looked magnificent ... and Draco recognized that she was very, very angry.
“You,” she said loudly, poking a finger into his chest, “are in big, big trouble.”
Ah, wonderful, Draco suppressed a smirk.
"I would be terrified if I were you." She growled.
Wonderful.
Now he was scared. Who knew what brutal punishments she had planned for him this night?
Author notes: The little towel line is thanks to Leigh and her tyrant ... they are so inspiring to me. *giggles* So thanks, Leigh!
I like the part where Ginny imagines Draco's reaction the best ... and I have a soft spot for Xavier.
So don't forget to review!
The End.
starlit skyes is the author of 5 other stories.
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This story is a favorite of 11 members. Members who liked A Parody of Pearls also liked 1249 other stories.
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