~.*.~.*.~.*.~.*.~

“I had a sex dream about Weasley last night.”

It had been something Draco swore he would never admit out loud to anyone. Ever. Alone in his flat, with no house-elves wandering the corridors or children sleeping in the other room or a delightful little vixen curled up beside him, the dream had been Draco’s secret; and he had initially felt strangely at peace with it. After all, it had been absolutely wonderful.

That is, until he sat down for breakfast with Zabini, Flint, and Pansy. The confession spilled from his mouth after feeling like it was going to choke him.

The idle movement at the table stopped abruptly. Draco forced himself to look at his companions and fought back a ridiculous burst of laughter. Zabini was in the middle of bringing a forkful of eggs to his mouth. He looked frozen in time. Flint’s face was twisting between curiosity and amusement. Pansy had yet to take a sip of tea from the cup she had brought to her lips.

They were all staring at Draco. Self-consciously, he touched his nose, though he knew that the bruising had gone down significantly after Ladbey, his house-elf, had given him a cream to rub on it.

“Well, which one?” Zabini finally asked.

Pansy put down her teacup, the clatter of china hitting china shockingly loud at the now quiet table.

“Did I hear you correctly?” Pansy questioned, glaring at Draco.

“Yes, I asked which Weasley Draco had a sex dream about,” Zabini told her.

“Shut up, Blaise,” she snapped.

“I’m serious. I’ve never been sure about Draco—”

Zabini was cut off by Flint’s chortling. Unsurprisingly, Blaise looked overly amused with himself. He loved poking fun at everyone in the group; Draco particularly.

Draco sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“Welcome back from your vacation, Zabini,” he muttered.

“Now, Malfoy, don’t worry too much. Ginny Weasley is a lovely thing,” Flint informed him. “I saw her just the other week with Granger. I can’t deny that I enjoyed looking at her.”

“How very creepy,” Pansy sneered.

Flint shrugged.

“Are you jealous, Pansy?” Zabini inquired. “Want Malfoy here to have a wank over you instead?”

“Of course not.”

“You never did like Ginny Weasley, did you? Hasn’t she interrogated you before about the girl, Malfoy?”

“Yes. Sixth year, wasn’t it, Pans?” Draco asked.

“Because she was a harpy that all the boys were drooling over,” Pansy hissed.

“Still is, it seems,” said Flint, pointing his fork at Draco. “If Malfoy is any indication.”

Relieved that they hadn’t all begun screaming at him immediately, Draco relaxed in his seat. Despite the fact that the group tended to annoy each other more often than not, the three people before him were still his friends. They were still the ones he went to when something was particularly bothering him. They were the ones who agreed with him when he needed it or disagreed with him, depending on the circumstances.

The fact that their reaction to what happened wasn’t horrible was something he didn’t realize he needed.

“Are you trying to fuck her now?” Pansy questioned lightly, though her gaze was harsh.

“Of course not.”

Flint’s eyebrows rose.

“Well, why not?”

“What?”

“Why aren’t you trying to shag her?” Flint asked.

Draco frowned but no one seemed to be having a laugh at him so he tried to find the right answer.

“She’s—well, I can’t. We work together.”

“I’m sure that’s not stopped you before,” Blaise jested.

Pansy made a sound of agreement.

“We’re friends,” Draco informed them.

The argument was weak and Draco knew it. He could particularly tell it wasn’t his best defense from the way Pansy stared at him in surprise. Pushing back in her seat, Pansy turned her body completely towards him in order to face him properly.

“The fact that you’re coworkers and friends is the only thing stopping you from fucking a Weasley?”

He stiffened, realizing his mistake. Flint and Zabini were looking between Pansy and Draco curiously, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then, suddenly, Pansy leaned towards Draco. Through her teeth, she hissed at him.

“The fact that she’s a Weasley isn’t enough? Have you gone mad?”

Draco opened his mouth to respond but wasn’t sure what to say. It didn’t matter, for Pansy continued speaking.

“I know your… relationship with her has steadily grown into something more than we would’ve thought over the past few years and I know that, because of your new friendship with her, you’re likely not realizing the consequences of having such dreams and actually telling us about them but, Draco, you sound oddly as though you like Weasley. Is that at all possible?”

“Of course I like her. I just told you—”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Pansy snapped. “I don’t mean like her as a friend. I mean like her as in you might not want to shag her because you’re afraid it could develop into something more.”

He blinked. What? Where did that come from? There was—that was absolutely—he did not like Ginny. Pansy was losing it.

Flint didn’t seem too bothered.

“What does it matter, anyway, Pans? He’d be lucky to snag someone like Weasley.”

“Imagine Potter’s reaction,” Blaise mused.

“Zabini just returned the other day from his trip with a Gryffindor,” Flint pointed out. “Gone are the boundaries of Slytherin and Gryffindor.”

“Crazy thing, that Romilda.”

“She was a Gryffindor?” Draco asked, surprised.

“Romilda Vane? Yes. Younger than us. Absolutely nuts. Hopefully Weasley isn’t quite on her level.”

Flint continued chuckling loudly as Pansy let out a loud groan.

“You’re in love with a Weasley.” Pansy sounded like she was whining, something he rarely heard from her anymore.

Draco ran his hands through his hair, fighting the urge to grab the strands and tug.

“How did we get on this conversation? I am not in love with Ginny.”

“Because,” Zabini explained patiently. “You told us you had a sex dream about a friend of yours whom Pansy doesn’t approve of.”

“I never said I didn’t approve of her.”

“So you’d be alright with Draco dating the Weasley girl?”

“I thought Draco didn’t like her like that?” Pansy retorted, leaning back casually in her seat.

Her gaze went from Zabini, whose lips were pressed together in amusement, back to Draco. Actually, all three of them were staring at him. Flint spoke, breaking the silence.

“Hypothetically.”

Pansy’s gaze was severe, slicing Draco to his bone as she looked him over. Then, with a soft sigh, she shrugged. The tension left her and she drummed her fingers against her glass of water.

“Hypothetically, if Draco did decide to date Ginevra Weasley I would… begrudgingly approve. As long as he understood that by doing so, he’d be placing his family back into the spotlight. And I have a feeling Lucius wouldn’t like that very much, especially from his jailcell. Also, it puts you right back in the attention of Potter and the Ministry. Doesn’t half her family work for the bloody government?”

His throat was dry. Pansy… wouldn’t care? How was this possible? When he had decided to tell them about his dream the night before, Draco never would’ve thought the conversation unfolding around him would have occurred. If he did think about the conversation ever happening, it wouldn’t be going like this. Draco had always assumed that his friends’ grudges with their former classmates were far deeper, especially Pansy, who still had an intense fear of persecution from the Ministry.

Draco took a long sip of water, hoping it would ease the itchiness of his throat. Then he lowered his eyes briefly, hardly able to keep eye contact with the people around him.

“Well, to be honest, I have a feeling their attention may be on me already.”

“And why is that?” Zabini inquired curiously.

“I… had dinner with the Weasley family Friday night. Oh, and I arrived at Teddy’s game yesterday with her. Potter, Granger, and Weasley were there already and I was forced to endure… small talk with them.”

“Teddy? The boy?” Flint hummed deep in his chest. “You like him more than you did before.”

The idea that his new-found affection for Teddy was that clear simply from how Draco spoke about him would normally cause him stress but he pushed it aside. There were more important things to concern himself with.

“He’s annoying but, yes, I get along with him well enough,” he agreed, waving his hand.

“I’d like to get along with children,” Flint admitted. “Perhaps I’ll take him from you for a day.”

Draco frowned. That wasn’t going to happen.

“She’s still staying with you then?” Pansy asked suspiciously. “I thought you were back at the manor. You didn’t… Draco, did you bring a Weasley to Malfoy Manor?”

If he hadn’t perfected wiping emotions clean off his face years ago, Draco knew for certain he would’ve flushed uncharacteristically at her question.

“He did!” Zabini cried out, laughing.

“Merlin, Malfoy, you’ve become rather brave, haven’t you? Hanging out with that Gryffindor is really changing you, isn’t it?” Flint added.

“Rather brave and rather careless,” Blaise hooted.

Pansy stared at him, as frozen as a statue.

“Why aren’t you dating Weasley?”

Her question was quiet, curious, so unlike the harsh glare in her eyes. Draco shook his head once, unsure why this question kept coming up.

“Because I don’t like her like that.”

Flint scoffed.

“Yeah, but the only reason you gave us for not shagging her is because you’re friends; not because of her family, not because of the public outcry that would surely occur, not because she isn’t your type. What if she liked you back?”

“She doesn’t like me back.”

“How do you know? You’re absolutely horrible at reading women,” Pansy interjected.

“I am not,” Draco muttered. “I remember her with Potter. She’s not like that with me.”

“Weasley was obsessed with Potter when she was a scrawny little first year. How are you comparing her to that?”

Why was he even thinking about this? What did it matter? Draco did not like Ginny. He had a dream about shagging her that had been… very nice… but he did not have romantic feelings for the girl. Merlin, he had only begun to view her as a friend a few years ago! Romantic feelings took time to build. It took trust and good communication and—and humor and, who knows really, because his parents’ relationship had always been a mystery to him, though he knew they cared for each other, and their relationship was the only one he ever observed growing up.

Even if he did like Ginny—which he didn’t—she would never return his feelings. This was stupid. Why had he brought this up? There was far too much history for them to ever get into a relationship like that. Not that he wanted to. But now, at Pansy’s gentle question, the thought wasn’t going to leave his head easily.

Fuck, of course Pansy would plant this idea in his mind.

But it didn’t matter. Because Ginny did not like him. And he… he wasn’t going to invite her over unless he absolutely needed help with Teddy. They’d have to burn down the manor and injure Aries, the family peacock, in order for Draco to owl Ginny again. He needed a break.

He needed to clear his head.

)*(*)*(

An owl had arrived for her on Monday from Draco, asking her if she’d like to spend the day with him at the manor. His writing had been jerky and uneven, which was strange for him, and when she arrived she noticed that he seemed anxious.

“Everything okay? Is Teddy okay?”

Draco ran a hand through his hair joltingly and glanced at her in confusion.

“What? Teddy? Yeah, he’s fine. Outside on the broom.”

Ginny grinned.

“He really loves that thing since you’ve taken him out,” she noted.

Glancing down at her, Draco’s lips lifted slightly. A rush of warmth hit her at the sight. After Draco’s abrupt departure from Teddy’s little league game Saturday, Ginny had been feeling at odds with herself. He had told her he was going to eat with Astoria—Astoria Greengrass, who Ginny knew was Draco’s most regular on and off girlfriend. She had thought they had broken up but, clearly, they hadn’t.

It annoyed Ginny, how much the idea of Draco going on a date with Greengrass had upset her. Her stomach had felt like it was filled with butterflies and her emotions had spiked randomly all weekend. Ron had called her moody and annoying the majority of Teddy’s match. Hermione had clearly wanted to ask Ginny about where Draco had gone but Harry and Ron both shrugged off his disappearance with little worry.

She had thought… it had just seemed… things had been different between her and Draco. Ginny had been so sure something was different. But if he was still taking Greengrass on dates then she was clearly wrong. Maybe it was only Ginny who was different; maybe her plan had backfired so spectacularly that she was beginning to lose grip of herself and project her fantasies onto Draco.

Sure, he had come to the Burrow when he got attacked but he knew Ginny was there and probably panicked and realized he needed someone to watch over Teddy while he fixed himself up. And staying for dinner was probably guilt. Her mum had helped heal him, after all, and he probably viewed it as disrespectful to leave. Yeah, the look on his face when they had been standing in the hall together, food hanging from his hair and his nose bruised and horrible, had seemed… different—Ginny had never seen Draco look at her like that and her insides had warmed considerably as she wondered what was going through his mind—but it could’ve been for any reason.

After all, he had done dinner with her family and it had ended with an explosion. It wasn’t exactly normal.

But then he had written her and she found herself more than a little excited to see him again. If he had written her, it meant he was thinking of her. And, okay, maybe it had something to do with Teddy but Ginny could hope that maybe it had nothing to do with the little boy and more to do with Draco wanting to spend time with her.

Ugh, she was pathetic.

Ginny also wasn’t used to hiding her feelings for someone, so the whole situation was rather twisted and continued to put her in uncomfortable positions that she hadn’t dealt with since, well, Harry.

“Draco? Are we going to, er, go inside?”

They had been standing on his doorstep for a long moment in silence. He blinked at her before giving her a quick nod. Then he stepped aside and allowed her entry.

It was still strange, walking into Malfoy Manor as though it was no big deal. So many horrible, dark things had happened here. Luna had been held prisoner in the dungeons below the marble floor she walked across, people had died in various rooms (though she’d never know which), Dobby had been stabbed as he rescued her brother, Harry, and Hermione. But it didn’t seem to hold the gloom she’d imagine. Especially not when she could hear Teddy’s laughter from outside.

Ginny cast a quick eye to Draco. His gaze met hers for a minute then he looked away. Something was up. Worry filled her stomach at the realization.

“Draco? What’s going on?” she asked, reaching out to grab his wrist.

He jolted at her touch, his eyes wide. The bruising on his face had surprisingly faded quickly, allowing him his handsome features once again. It also made it easier for her to not laugh at the odd expression on his face.

“Seriously, are you okay?”

Draco let out a low sigh before shaking his head. He was staring at her grip on his wrist, mouth twisting, before he looked up at her. The heavy pit in her stomach was transforming into something light and bubbly. That same strange look was on his face again. The one she couldn’t read.

“I’m fine,” he finally said.

Though his voice was soft, his words were loud in the entry hall. Ginny let go of his wrist abruptly, cradling her hand against her chest as though burned.

“It’s been a weird weekend,” Draco confessed.

She let out a light laugh.

“Yeah, I agree,” she muttered, thinking of her own mixed emotions since Saturday.

Her laughter seemed to relax him and he shoved his hands in his pockets. Together, they walked towards the French doors that led to the yard out back.

“I apologize for leaving so abruptly on Saturday.”

Amazed, she looked up at him.

“I didn’t realize Malfoys could apologize.”

“It’s rather frowned upon,” he admitted, smirking.

“I’m happy you risked your pride for me then.”

The curl of his lips grew. It still pleased Ginny to no end, the sight of him enjoying something she said.

“How was… how was lunch with, uh, Greengrass?”

The question felt like blades in her throat but it didn’t matter. She needed to know. Were they back together?

“Hmm?”

“Astoria? Your lunch with her,” she reminded him, frowning.

Draco’s eyebrows drew together before comprehension came to him.

“Ah, yes, it was fine.”

Fine? What did fine mean?

They had almost reached the doors when the familiar whoosh of Floo sounded. They both paused, glancing at each other in confusion. Draco held out a hand, stopping Ginny from moving towards the drawing room. Was he expecting someone? It looked like he was ready to go for his wand when the sound of someone walking grew loud.

Click, click, click.

Ginny opened her mouth to speak as the person turned the corner, entering the corridor. Draco tensed beside her but she hardly noticed.

“Astoria?”

Astoria Greengrass was here. Greengrass. The woman Ginny had just asked Draco about. Was here. At his manor. Draco had written for Ginny to come through but had invited Astoria also. Is that—is that what was happening? Her body flushed as she looked away from Greengrass to Draco. Though he seemed strangely still, there was nothing on his face that gave away what was going on.

“Draco, dear,” Greengrass greeted, approaching the pair.

Her blue eyes appraised Ginny briefly before returning to Draco.

“It’s time for dinner.”

“It’s not yet three,” Draco replied. “Astoria—”

“A late lunch, then.”

It was extremely awkward, standing beside Draco during this conversation. Though Greengrass’ eyes never left him, Ginny knew the other woman was judging her. This wasn’t the first time Ginny had been judged and she doubted it would be the last but she had been feeling so insecure the past forty-eight hours that it felt like adding salt to a wound, sitting there to be scrutinized.

Why was this happening? While Draco didn’t seem too surprised by Astoria’s arrival, he did seem thrown off. But why?

“You have someone here to watch the child,” Greengrass continued, waving her hand distractedly in Ginny’s direction.

Draco took a small step forward, blocking Ginny partially from view. His hand flexed beside him. His contained emotion, though, did nothing for the sudden fire that burned within Ginny. Was that true? Was that why Ginny was here? To babysit Teddy?

Astoria turned but glanced over her shoulder lazily as she headed back down the corridor.

“We’re going to eat, Draco. Do not cancel on me.”

The threat was clear.

When the click, click of her heels disappeared, there was only silence left. Ginny took a deep breath and felt it rattle in her chest. Back still turned to her, she couldn’t help but wonder what Draco was thinking.

Then he turned on his heel to face her. She could read nothing on his face and a shiver raced up her back at the thought. There were times, when he first joined the Tornados, that he had seemed so icy and emotionless that it had frightened Ginny. The fear had turned to curiosity, of course, to the point where she did anything she could to get a reaction from him.

From then on, Draco had never cleared his expression of emotions around her again.

But this—this was different.

“What am I doing here?”

She thought her voice would be low, hesitant, worried, as she felt on the inside. But it wasn’t. Her words came out sharp, angry. Ginny felt suddenly like a wounded animal cornered by predators. When Draco had invited her here—when she had received his owl—she had assumed it was because he had wanted to see her. That wasn’t it though.

“Did you invite me over to babysit for you?”

Her hands were in fists at her side and her neck was flushing in anger. The rage that filled her didn’t stop her bottom lip from trembling however. Ginny had to look down, letting her hair shield her from his gaze so she could quickly collect herself. When she looked back up, Draco was shaking his head.

“No, no, of course not—”

“Then why am I here?”

Draco opened his mouth to respond but he looked uncharacteristically hesitant. If it were any other situation, if Ginny herself didn’t feel insecure and anxious, the sight of Draco so vulnerable would’ve forced the anger from her. But it was her only defense against her confusion.

“Answer me, Draco,” Ginny half pleaded, her words a whisper.

If Greengrass was hearing this, if the woman Ginny was beginning to realize Draco was once again dating heard her plead with him, she would never be able to properly face her again. She couldn’t help it, though.

Draco focused on Ginny and she could almost see herself reflected in the gray of his eyes; small, out of place, alone.

“I need to go with her,” was all he said. “Can you stay here with Teddy?”

The air left Ginny’s lungs in a rush. She found herself nodding without knowing why she would agree to stay and watch Teddy. Why was she doing this? Maybe it was because after all the excitement and happiness of seeing Draco was so quickly replaced with worry and anger and fear she was left exhausted.

Ginny felt rather empty as Draco bent his head close to her, catching her eyes and holding her gaze.

“I’ll be back soon.”

She had been so stupid.

“Ginny, I’ll be back soon. Ginny?”

She had been so very, very wrong about this whole situation.

“Draco? Darling? You look fine. Let’s head out, shall we?”

Ginny glanced at Astoria, who had entered the corridor again. The other witch barely looked at them, instead fixing her dress so that it fell over her perfectly. Draco nodded beside Ginny and she saw from the corner of her eye his hand twitch. But then he strode forward without another look at Ginny, leaving her to drop everything and take care of his responsibility while he went off to do what he pleased.

)*(*)*(

Draco shouldn’t have left her.

The realization cloaked him, almost suffocating him, when he allowed Astoria to use side-along apparition to get them to wherever she wished. Ginny had—holy fuck, why did he leave her? She had looked absolutely lost by the whole situation. But he had needed to. That much Draco knew was true.

Astoria Greengrass’ sudden arrival back into his life could only mean one of two things: one, he had either summoned her from the depths of hell when he spoke her name to Ginny two days prior or, two, someone had spoken to her about his topic at breakfast the day before. Though he rather hoped he had somehow beckoned her by muttering her name, karma surely, Draco knew that it couldn’t be that. One of his friends had run to his ex to gossip.

Bloody Zabini.

Draco followed Astoria’s lead into a high-end restaurant she had always favored when they dated. He trailed her silently, pulling out her seat when she went to sit, before taking a spot across from her. The waiters came and went, Draco’s words monotone and automatic.

Astoria had been a significant part of Draco’s life once he was cleared by the Ministry. She had helped him climb his way back into the favor of the public, she had helped heal the fractured relationship he had with his mother, she had properly distracted him when everything became too much.

But Astoria had also manipulated him when he was weak and not thinking. She knew how to twist and turn people’s emotions and opinions and she had done it to him on more than one occasion. Draco had already been used too much, far too much, and it was only when he untangled himself from her that he saw how far down she had dragged him.

It had been stupid of Draco to not view Astoria as dangerous from the very beginning. He had always viewed her as brilliant, beautiful, worthy but he had never thought her dangerous. And, Merlin, he was done with danger. But… seeing her at his manor unannounced, with Ginny’s harsh breathing behind him and Teddy’s laughter echoing in the hall—it had filled him with panic. Draco needed to figure out why she showed up unexpectedly. He needed to fix it, quickly.

“Draco,” Astoria called, smiling slightly. “I hadn’t thought I’d be seeing you so soon.”

“Yes, well, when you arrive at people’s homes that tends to happen—seeing them, that is.”

“I simply thought a little date would be fun for us. It’s been far too long.”

Draco leaned back in his seat, eyebrow rising.

“Was it Zabini who spoke to you, then?” Draco asked.

Astoria stiffened, her eyes narrowing.

“Can’t I see you without an alternate motive?”

“That has very rarely been the case.”

“True,” she agreed.

Draco let out a breath, his eyes leaving her as he took in the area around him.

“You’re really rather clueless, aren’t you, Draco?” Astoria’s words slid over him, sweet and gentle, but he found himself focused on the young family a few tables away.

The father was smiling brightly, balancing a toddler on his legs, as the baby giggled and grabbed for his hair. A little girl, likely Teddy’s age, was speaking quickly to her mother and the mother was nodding along as she fixed the girl her plate. It reminded him of the meal he spent with Ginny, Teddy, and Rose.

The dinner at Granger’s had been random and if the group had been any different he would’ve been extremely uncomfortable. But it had been Teddy and Rose, it had been Ginny, with her twinkling eyes and loud laugh. And Ginny had seemed happy too while she watched Rose and Teddy fight for Draco’s attention.

Draco had never thought about having children before—at least, not seriously. His mother would randomly bring the idea up in conversation, that she’d like grandchildren one day, that it was his responsibility to continue the Malfoy lineage. Her concerns were so common to him, though, that he simply waved them away.

One day, one day, he’d always say.

Now, however, he could see himself with a child. He could teach the child about Quidditch, tell the child about his adventures at Hogwarts, show the child how to be a respected member of society. Lucius had spent plenty of time with Draco when Draco was still young but not as much as his nanny had. But Draco would spend as much time as possible with the kid, would share the burden with his wife, wouldn’t require a nanny—

He thought implicitly of Ginny, of how she smoothed back Rose’s hair so the girl could see better, and something warm flashed through him.

“Are you listening to me?”

Draco looked away from the family, startled by how quickly his thoughts had drifted. Astoria sat before him, pretty eyes narrowed as she studied him. He hadn’t realized he was ignoring her till her normally soft words turned sharp.

“I do wonder if you realize the road you’re going down,” Astoria said.

Draco frowned.

“What does that mean?”

She lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug. Astoria had always been very beautiful to Draco, with her pale skin and large eyes. He could remember mornings lying in bed beside her, hands itching to run through her dark locks, before hesitation stopped him. The word beautiful hadn’t suited her properly by the end of their relationship but calculating had.

He had always been afraid if he showed her too much of his darkness, of his haunted past, that she’d figure out a way to use it to her advantage. Draco had been so tired of worrying about protecting himself against those he was supposed to trust that he gave up.

Perhaps that was why it hadn’t worked out with Astoria. Maybe it hadn’t been her manipulation, maybe it had been his lack of courage and his exhaustion with those who weren’t true.

“It’s rather rude to have me out to lunch and spend most of your time staring at a family on the other side of the room,” she replied, startling him from his thoughts again.

Draco scowled.

“Don’t be daft,” he said shortly. “You had only just begun your ritual of insulting me before I got… distracted. Please, continue.”

Her lips twisted into a small smile.

“I apologize that you view it as me insulting you,” she told him, lifting her glass of wine to her lips and taking a long sip. Then, “I’m simply pointing out some things about yourself that I fear you’re ignorant of.”

“It’s not really an apology, is it, Malfoy, if you’re making it seem like I’m the one in the wrong! Take some responsibility, you giant git.”

Ginny’s words echoed in his head and he fought back a grin. How many times had she yelled that at him over the last few years? Perhaps that’s why she had been so surprised by his apology back at the manor. It had sent a trill of delight through him; he had managed to amaze her in a good way.

But the reminder of their brief time together at Malfoy Manor filled him with dread. He had left her there with no explanation. It didn’t sit well with him.

“Continue, please,” Draco insisted again, once the silence between them stretched on too long.

“Your relationship with that Weasley girl is getting a little out of hand, isn’t it?”

Fucking Zabini, he knew it. Torn between groaning or laughing, Draco instead ran a hand down the front of his shirt, needing a moment. Astoria sniffed as she waited. Amusement was beginning to win the battle of his emotions, if only because his nerves couldn’t handle anymore anxiety.

“We’re having this talk again, are we? Really now, Astoria, I’ve been playing Quidditch with the girl for years now. That’s the extent of our relationship.”

“You'refriends with her,” Astoria spat the word. “Aren’t you? Isn’t that what you’ve maintained to your mother, to your friends, to me?”

Draco stiffened slightly. There was something in her tone that he wasn’t fond of. Eyeing her warily, Draco ran his tongue over his teeth before leaning forward ever so slightly.

This is what he had been afraid of.

“What’s the point of this?” he almost snarled.

He took a drink of scotch to hide his sudden frustration but Astoria was quick, too quick. She looked smug as she leaned forward also.

“You have that girl staying at Malfoy Manor, watching over that brat with you, as though this is normal and fine. You had a sex dream about her! A Weasley!”

“Does Blaise run and tell you everything that spills out of my mouth?”

“Only the important things,” she acknowledged. “Don’t you think it cruel to tease her so?”

“Tease her how?” Draco bit out.

“She’s in love with you, Draco. I could see it in the five seconds I was forced to endure her company. You’re giving her plenty of false hope by continuing to let her live with you—”

If he had anything in his mouth, he would’ve sprayed it out in shock. He didn’t bother trying to school his features.

“In love with me? Ginny Weasley?” he croaked.

Honestly, what was happening to the world? Was this reality he lived in a false one?

Astoria looked over him.

“Yes, you fool. How have you not—”

Draco couldn’t help it. He started laughing, more loudly and recklessly than he usually allowed in public. Ginny in love with him? Putting his glass down, Draco reached for Astoria’s hand but she snatched it away and settled it in her lap.

“You’re mistaken,” Draco said once he calmed down, though his teeth were still bared in a wide smile. “She can barely put up with me, that woman. Whatever you think you see is wrong.”

Because, really, though Draco was beginning to warm up to the idea of having feelings for Ginny—an idea that hadn’t left his mind since Pansy planted it there, making him both insanely anxious and incredibly relieved at the sight of the ginger haired harpy when she arrived at his doorstep earlier—he knew that Ginny didn’t feel the same way. He simply knew it.

“I’m not wrong, Draco,” Astoria snapped. “That blood traitor is in love with you and you’re getting rather careless in your association with her.”

It was as though someone had cursed him. Any remaining trace of humor and delight left him as his stare hardened.

“Don’t call her that,” he warned, voice low.

Astoria gestured impatiently with her hands.

“Clueless, just as I said. You need to open your eyes and realize the dangerous path you’re on. How did Weasley feel when I showed up for our date?”

“This is hardly a date,” Draco hissed. “And I’m sure she felt a bit discarded since I had invited her over to spend time with me, not to watch the child.”

Draco leaned back in his seat, annoyed by the direction of this conversation. He was half tempted to look away from Astoria, to ignore her till whatever fight was in her drained out, to find the family at the table again. But he could feel the intensity of Astoria’s gaze on him and knew he’d have no such luck.

“To spend time with you, Draco? Do you hear yourself? Why would she want to spend time with you if she didn’t care for you dearly? And why would you want to spend time with her? Answer my questions, Draco. Don’t waste my time with anymore lies or you’ll regret it.”

Fighting back the temptation to roll his eyes, Draco grabbed his glass again to drink from. Was it in any way possible that Ginny did have feelings for Draco? His mind chanted no, no but there was something pumping in his blood that sang maybe. She had asked him to stay for dinner at her family’s house, she had watched the conversation to make sure no one was too cruel to him, she had asked to stay with him that night, to share his bed with him again. And when she had arrived today, pretty with her hair down and eyes bright, excitement had been radiating off of her.

It was the only thing that had snapped him out of his worried thoughts; worried thoughts that were about her and these new feelings he was beginning to discover, thoughts about whether he’d be able to deal with this without letting Ginny know what was going on.

Hadn’t she asked about Astoria also? He had almost forgotten that he had lied to Ginny about his lunch obligations with Astoria during Teddy’s game. When she had asked, it took a moment for his cloudy mind to realize what she was talking about. Why would she ask if she hadn’t been curious about it?

And… the way her demeanor changed at the arrival of said witch. She had shielded her face from him but he had seen how quickly the emotion had washed over her. Ginny had been upset. When he was leaving, when he was trying to talk to her and tell her he’d be back as soon as he could, had she even heard him? There was some faraway look in her eyes that Draco didn’t like, that made him feel as though she hadn’t heard a word he said.

The desire to leave this table, to go back to his manor, to Ginny, was suddenly overwhelming.

Even if she didn’t care for him like that, though something in his mind was beginning to think maybe, maybe she did he had still abandoned her.

But then Astoria’s words, she’s in love with you, came back to him and he couldn’t help but ponder on the idea of it longer.

It was ludicrous. Ginny hadn’t even wanted to help him watch Teddy. If she had a crush on him, wouldn’t she have wanted to spend as much time with him as possible? But she had come with him, had stayed in his bed with him that first night, had helped him through every step. Was it possible?

Drumming his fingers on the table, Draco met Astoria’s knowing gaze.

“You’ve always been horrible with reading women, Draco,” Astoria informed him briskly. “That’s why we never worked out.”

Bloody Pansy had said that same thing.

“That’s not the only reason why,” Draco added lightly.

Astoria’s face softened and she frowned at Draco.

“But we’re friends, aren’t we? We’ve always been friends, in some form or another. And I really think it best if you heed my warning. Do not keep leading Weasley on. We did not win the war. If you get into a relationship with her and it goes poorly, imagine the slander you’ll experience. Your mother wouldn’t be able to take it. It will not lead to a good ending for you, Draco. You have obligations.”

Despite how horrible his relationship with Astoria had ended, Draco couldn’t deny that she was his friend. Not on the level of Pansy or Flint or… or Ginny… but a friend, nonetheless.

Releasing a quiet breath, Draco let his eyes wander around the restaurant. Without realizing it, he found himself searching for the family.

But they were gone.

)*(*)*(

The sun had set by the time Ginny arrived back at Malfoy Manor with Teddy. When Draco had left, she found that despite the high ceilings and large rooms she had trouble breathing. She couldn’t stay there, not at the dreaded manor, not without Draco.

Ginny took Teddy and left.

She needed to do something to stop her thoughts from drifting to what had played out in the corridor of Draco’s house. Every time she thought on it she sunk further and further into a panic. How had she let her emotions get the better of her? How had she read the situation so poorly? How hadn’t she realized she was forcing so many of her wants and needs on Draco when he didn’t ask for them?

At the beginning of the summer, Ginny had been worried about ruining her friendship and working relationship with Draco if she spent time with him one on one. But after the dinner at the Burrow she had been ready to throw that concern out the window and do as she pleased. Laughably, she had thought Draco’s opinions on her were changing and that she had a chance. It was stupid, she realized now.

Ginny was almost thankful that Greengrass had shown up when she did.

Because when Ginny had arrived at the manor earlier she was feeling more reckless than she ever had before. It had been buried under her skin for so long, the desire to press Draco and see if there was something between them. The want became persistent, feeling as though it was peeling back her skin to escape. Who knows what she would’ve done, would’ve ruined, if she had spent the afternoon with him?

Instead, Teddy and Ginny spent some time at the Burrow with Molly. When her mum brought up Draco, letting Ginny know he was invited to their dinner on Friday, she had felt sick. She left with Teddy soon after, realizing that Harry would likely be back from the Ministry. Ginny was right and the trio spend the rest of the day eating and laughing outside. If only things had been different, this could’ve been her life. Lounging around with Harry, watching Teddy, having absolutely no thoughts or worries about Draco Malfoy.

It was only when the sky was dark and Teddy was beginning to nod off on Harry’s couch, that Ginny realized she should head back to the manor. Maybe Draco wasn’t there yet. Or, hopefully, he was so she could drop Teddy off and leave right away.

The last thing she wanted was to spend any more time with Draco. Her emotions were too up and down. Even the idea of going back to the manor made her heartbeat skyrocket, her palms sweat, her breathing quicken. It had to be done, though. They arrived by Floo, Teddy half asleep against her leg.

The drawing room was filled with shadows but empty when they arrived. Ginny ushered Teddy out of the hearth gently before lifting him into her arms—bloody hell, he was heavy—and making her way through the manor to his bedroom. Teddy didn’t argue with her as she pulled off his shoes before laying out pajamas. He thanked her sleepily, hair flashing ginger before going teal, as he began to fall asleep properly tucked in. She ran her fingers through his locks as she looked down at him.

Ginny was half tempted to say goodbye to him. But maybe she’d go to Harry’s and spend time with the both of them next Saturday, after Draco traded the boy off to his godfather. She could still see Teddy without having to see Draco.

Ugh, everything was so messed up.

Leaving the room, Ginny noted that Draco’s bedroom light was off before heading back to the drawing room. She could wait for Draco there then use Floo to get back home. They could have a quick, easy goodbye and he’d think nothing was amiss and then… then she would see him at next week’s practice, after she had plenty of time to get her head straight and get over the embarrassment of how idiotic she had been the past few weeks.

The silhouette of a figure by the wide windows in the drawing room alerted her right away that she wasn’t alone. The figure turned at the sound of her footsteps pausing. The light from the fire shone on him, highlighting Draco’s pale features. Her heart, which had been properly lodged in her throat, only picked up speed.

“Hey.” She stepped further into the room. “Teddy’s in bed. I’m, um, just going to—”

Draco walked closer to her and she saw his eyebrows were furrowed, his hands flexing. Not good signs. Was he—was he angry with her?

“Thank you for returning him,” Draco hissed. “I had thought you decided to run away with him to punish me.”

“What? Punish you for what? You left me here to babysit him and I did. Sorry to inform you but this manor isn’t exactly the most welcoming place so I decided it best to leave.”

“Didn’t think to leave a note? Send an owl? Thought it would be better for me to come home and—”

Draco ran a hand roughly through his hair, his lips pressed together.

“Were you home when I got here?” Ginny asked sharply. “Wanted to wait for me to put him to bed before you started yelling at me?”

“Yes! You can’t leave with him on a whim. It’s irresponsible and careless!”

“Why? You left him with me on a whim! How was I supposed to know when you got home from your date? Sorry, I thought it would take longer for you to finish up your slotted time with Greengrass.”

Her voice shook as she spat the words out. Ginny lifted a hand and pressed it against her head. A headache that had been hiding out of view since Greengrass had arrived was now beginning to make itself known. This was stupid. She had to leave.

Ginny walked up to the fireplace abruptly, grabbing the jar of Floo powder from the mantel and extracting a handful.

“You’re leaving?”

Surprise briefly took over his temper.

“Yes,” she sighed, hating how weak her voice had gone.

“You’ve never run away from a fight.”

“I’m tired. And I’ve done my job, haven’t I? Teddy’s sound asleep.”

She heard Draco take several steps towards her. Always, she always heard his light steps.

“I hadn’t meant for that to happen.”

The words were barely spoken at a whisper, all his previous anger vanished. Ginny shivered. He hadn’t meant for what to happen exactly?

She wanted desperately to turn around, to face him so she could see what he truly meant, but she couldn’t move her body. What if she didn’t like what she found? What if it only worsened the anger, the hurt she felt?

Because, dear Merlin, this hurt.

Ginny had done it to herself, really. She deserved this pain. She had told herself she’d keep her emotions in check around Draco and she hadn’t. It wasn’t his fault. This was entirely her own to take blame for.

Her shoulders sagged as she put the jar back on the mantel, the light dust of the Floo powder warm in her palm.

“You asked for my help and I shouldn’t be,” the words were choking her so she swallowed to try to get them out. “You asked for me to help with Teddy and I shouldn’t be angry that you had me watch him today, I hadn’t, I just hadn’t—”

This was pitiful and embarrassing and she stopped speaking so it didn’t get any worse.

“Ginny.”

He sounded much closer than she had thought he was.

“Look at me. Ginny, look at me.”

She turned slightly, hesitant to meet his gaze. When she did, she saw the confusion and concern that painted his features.

“What’s going on?” he questioned softly.

There was no way to properly explain the emotions that stormed within her, the tiredness that now sat in her bones, the muddled thoughts in her head. This wasn’t fair to him. It was clear how lost he was by what she was saying, what she had done.

Ginny licked her lips and shook her head.

“I’m tired, that’s it, really,” she lied. “I’m going to go home.”

She met his gaze only when she was already in the hearth, the flames gently tickling her. But he hadn’t gone to stop her. Didn’t call for her to stay. And, despite the pang of loss, Ginny knew it was better this way. Maybe he’d put it up to hormones or exhaustion or… It didn’t matter, because he didn’t stop her from leaving.

)*(*)*(

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

It felt like the fiftieth time that Hermione had asked Ginny that question over the last week. When Ginny had shown up at her sister-in-law’s house last Tuesday, the day after the incident with Draco, she had been unable to stop the words from pouring from her lips.

She destroyed everything. She was losing it. How did she let this happen? Draco was going to think her mad. How did she fix this? How did she fix this?

Hermione had listened to her, had offered her comfort, had made hot cocoa despite it being the end of June, and the two women had stayed at the house all day and talked. By the time Ron came home, Ginny was sleeping on the couch, too worn out to leave.

Of course, even though Ginny had felt slightly better after getting everything off her chest, Hermione had made a point to either write or stop by Ginny’s every day for the rest of the week. Now, exactly seven days later, Hermione had begged Ginny to come with her to Diagon Alley. Apparently, she needed to go to Flourish and Blotts again and would need help with Rose. It was likely a lie and Ginny knew that but she appreciated her friend’s attempt at getting her out of the house.

Focusing on said friend, Ginny offered her a tiny smile.

“I swear I’m fine, Hermione,” Ginny said, for the fiftieth time.

Was she fine? That was yet to be determined, she supposed. Come Thursday, only two days from now, she’d have to be in Draco’s company once again for practice with the Tornados. Maybe she would call out sick. Or, maybe, he’d call out sick. Then she could go another two weeks without seeing him.

She was a coward.

“Has he written you more letters?”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed and Hermione shrugged.

“I know he’s been writing you,” Hermione told her.

“And how do you know that?”

“Because you’re his friend and you left his house suddenly, upset. I find it hard to believe you didn’t worry him that night and that he hasn’t reached out to you.”

It was true. There was fairly decent stack of letters from Draco that remained unopened on her kitchen table. The first letter had arrived Monday night, within minutes of her getting home. She couldn’t make herself open it, too afraid he’d be asking her to go back to his manor, so she didn’t. Every day since he had written to her and every day she had ignored the letters, letting them decorate her table.

Ginny desperately wanted to know what the letters said. But she couldn’t bring herself to read them. She needed to get her head in a better space before she opened herself to his questions and worry.

“Either way,” Hermione continued, when she realized Ginny wasn’t going to say anything. “Even if you hadn’t scared him the other night, I saw the way he had been looking at you. He’d want to hear from you if he hadn’t for a while.”

That again. Ever since Ginny had told Hermione everything that had happened, Hermione was insistent on something being different with Draco. It was kind of hard to take what Hermione said for truth, though, since the witch hadn’t spent much time with Draco until recently. But Hermione swore, time and time again, that the way Draco looked at her meant something.

“Hermione, please,” Ginny groaned. “You’re not helping. Remember? I’m trying to get over him.”

“Seems rather silly to me, when instead you could simply talk to him,” Hermione retorted.

“I don’t want to ruin everything.”

“But ignoring his letters after suddenly leaving isn’t going to hurt your friendship?”

Ginny frowned. She hated when Hermione made a good point.

“That’s much easier to repair than if I threw myself at him and he rejected me.”

“Your logic isn’t making much sense,” Hermione informed her briskly. “Instead of trying to get over Draco—”

“Ginevra Weasley, Hermione Granger, what a pleasant surprise.”

The additional voice to their conversation frightened the two women so badly that Ginny almost dropped Rose and Hermione let out a squeak of surprise. Spinning around, Ginny was astonished to find Blaise Zabini grinning cheekily at them. How long had he been there? How much had he heard?

She remembered Draco at their last practice, holding up his hand to count the five friends he had. Zabini was one of them.

“Granger-Weasley,” Hermione said automatically, her cheeks flushed.

“Yes, of course,” Zabini agreed.

His attention was hardly on Hermione, though. Curious and dark, his eyes lingered on Ginny. Folding his arms across his chest, Zabini leaned against one of the bookshelves. It wobbled slightly but, held by magic, did no more.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Zabini told her, grinning. “Ginny.”

Her senses were on overload as she desperately tried to read his face. Had he heard anything that Hermione or she had said? Merlin, they were so stupid to talk about Malfoy in public like this. If Zabini hadn’t heard, someone else could have.

But, even so, what was Blaise Zabini doing here, talking to them? Marcus Flint had at least been properly introduced to Ginny on several occasions; running into him was strange but he was always kind. Even Pansy Parkinson would have been less of a surprise than Zabini.

“Rosie, come with mummy,” Hermione called. “We’ve a whole list of things to get.”

Rose straightened in Ginny’s arms, already kicking her legs to get to Hermione. With a slight oomph, Ginny let the wiggling toddler down. She glared at Hermione as she walked down one of the aisles, leaving Ginny with the strange man. Hermione only offered her an apologetic shrug before disappearing from view.

Cautiously, Ginny looked back at him.

“I should probably be going too—”

“What’ve you been doing this past week, Ginny?”

The way he said her name was odd and made her frown. She supposed she had never heard him say her name before but there was something else to it. He sounded amused as he said it, positively tickled, as though he knew a secret that he enjoyed holding over her. Ginny didn’t like it and wanted to stomp on his foot to make him stop.

“Family things,” she replied tersely.

“Ah, yes, good that. After having to help Malfoy for so long with the boy?”

Ginny gave him a short nod.

“Yes, but you’ve stopped that, haven’t you? One night in the manor scare you off?” he inquired curiously, tilting his head as he watched her.

“It didn’t scare me off,” Ginny growled defensively. “I had other obligations—”

“Yeah, Draco has been chatting my ear off about family obligations and fantasy versus reality and, hell, it’s been a ton of bull shit. Really grinds on my nerves.”

“That sounds rough. Look, I really should be going—”

“It is rough, I agree. Can we talk about hypothetical situations?”

“What?”

“Hypothetical situations,” Zabini told her simply, shrugging. “Let’s say I invited you back to Malfoy Manor, I’ll even have Draco clean it up nice for you, for some tea and biscuits with Parkinson, Malfoy, and I. Would you come?”

Ginny froze.

“No,” she answered stupidly, at a loss for words.

“Malfoy said as much.”

“He’s been talking about me? To you?” she questioned, instantly suspicious.

Zabini leaned his head back and laughed. It ended abruptly and then he was staring at her again, his lips twisted into a small smirk.

“Here and there, of course. Draco has been rather tiffed with me since the other day, apparently doesn’t like me spreading what I find fascinating news to friends. Says I’ve ruined everything but I told him he was being dramatic. Malfoy didn’t like that, no. But to each their own. Back on topic, Ginny, I do have a favor to ask of you in order to help win me back Malfoy’s favor—”

“What did you do to make him so angry?”

The question was a simple one, for a friend. But Zabini was not a friend and he stilled as he stared at her. Then he let out another short laugh, though genuine amusement painted his dark features as he leaned forward. Ginny fought the urge to step back, instead looking from one eye to other, curious despite herself.

“I’m afraid if I tell you he’ll only be angrier with me. My only request is you come for tea with us.”

“No.”

“Don’t trust me?” Zabini asked, offended.

“No,” she responded, crossing her arms.

“Smart girl. This has been fun, really, but if you’re not willing to help me you’re rather in the way of everything. But it’s been a pleasure meeting you, gave me a chance to see why he likes you,” Zabini admitted, wagging his finger. “Blunt, cautious, yet somehow friendly and witty.”

Ginny’s heart raced. Who liked her? Who was Zabini talking about?

“Ta!”

Before she could muster the words to question him further, the dark man had disappeared in the crowd of Flourish and Blotts. For a long moment, Ginny stood by herself, letting people brush past her to get where they needed to. Her head felt fuzzy and her hands shaky. Why would Zabini think her going to tea to meet up with Draco would help fix whatever fight they had been in? What secret had Zabini told that Draco hadn’t wanted known?

Was she even involved with this or was it a trick Zabini was pulling on her?

Slowly, Ginny made her way to the front of the bookstore, sure that Hermione and Rose would be near the register to pay. When she didn’t spot them, she went to look through the shop again only to see the pair coming back inside. Her eyes looked from her friend to the crowd behind her—she gasped when she saw the back of Blaise Zabini disappearing.

Yanking the door open, Ginny stood in the doorway to block them entry.

“Were you talking to Zabini?”

Hermione’s eyes were wide at the sight of Ginny but she let out an affronted sigh.

“What? No! Why would you think that?”

“Because you were both outside, at the same time, after he had just finished harassing me,” she said pointedly.

“I’m sure he wasn’t harassing you,” Hermione paused. When Ginny didn’t move, she sighed. “Ginny, I’m your friend. I only have your best interests at heart.”

“That’s not reassuring! Hermione! Did you—oh, sorry, yeah, I’ll move.”

Ginny was forced to step out of the doorway and into Diagon Alley by a disgruntled customer. She narrowed her eyes when they landed on Hermione but the older witch hardly seemed bothered, instead shrinking her books and placing them in her bag. Groaning, Ginny stepped forward to grab Rose’s hand while Hermione struggled to get everything in place.

When she was done, she looked up and blew a piece of hair from her face, smiling slightly.

“Want to do dinner with me and Ron tonight?”

“Are you going to tell me what you said to Zabini?”

“I apologized that my friend was paranoid and rude,” Hermione teased. At Ginny’s shocked look, she laughed. “I’m joking! I really didn’t talk to him, Ginny. It was a coincidence.”

Ginny didn’t believe in coincidences, not when Hermione, the most logical person Ginny knew, tried to use it as an excuse. But she didn’t have time to continue bullying her. Instead she said no to dinner, hoping a night by herself would convince her to open the letters.

)*(*)*(

The Tornados practice had been cancelled, what with Asma sick and Roger on vacation, spurring a sudden and surprising bout of sympathy from the coaches—had they finally realized the team wasn’t in the playoffs anymore and didn’t need to practice? Normally such a joyous event would be something Draco celebrated but not this week. No, the practice being canceled also destroyed the one chance Draco had of meeting up with Ginny without it being forced. And… and he didn’t know what to do. Fucking Zabini. He ruined this all, hadn’t he?

“Fucking Zabini,” Draco repeated out loud.

“Now, stop that, there’s a child somewhere in this manor who should not hear such horrible things.”

Taking his hand off his eyes, Draco looked over to see Blaise standing in his doorway.

“What are you doing here?”

“The real question, Malfoy, is what are you doing?”

“Flint and Pansy took Teddy out,” he said, half shooing Blaise out of his room with his hand. “Now leave.”

“Wait, what? You let them take that child from this manor? Have you lost your mind?”

“They figured if I could enjoy him they could too. They wanted to embark on this adventure together.”

It had been rather reckless of him to let Marcus and Pansy take Teddy without him there. But, surprisingly, Teddy had been really excited about the idea and Flint had promised not to hurt the boy or lose him. Then Pansy made the same promise and, since he trusted Pansy more, he agreed. Honestly, he needed the time too. The past week and a half had been close to hellish for him.

Ginny had left. She had left and she had been upset, hurt, angry. While Draco liked to pretend those emotions had nothing to do with him and didn’t bother him, he wasn’t sure. Now the idea that Draco cared for Ginny more than he should seemed like the most factual and solid thing in his life. And the thought that Ginny liked him too, that she could possibly see him as more than a friend, clung to him like Devil’s Snare.

She had thought it a date, his lunch with Astoria. Her words, spat with such emotion—how was I supposed to know when you got home from your date—confirmed it. Was that why she was upset? Was that why she continued to ignore his owls? Even Teddy had been asking after Ginny, wondering why she didn’t want to hang out with them anymore.

If Ginny somehow did like Draco and thought him dating again, that could explain it.

But he didn’t know how to deal with it. If she wasn’t reading his letters, was he supposed to stalk over to her flat and make her pay attention to him? That seemed… distasteful and forceful. Maybe she was sick. Maybe she was spending time with her family. Or maybe she had planned some trip and never told him.

Bloody hell, the reasons she was no longer spending time with him were endless.

Perhaps she realized how worthless he was. Maybe she heard him speak his father’s words one too many times, despite how often he tried to make sure that didn’t happen. The way he challenged her that last night, angry that she had taken Teddy with no warning, might have kept her away. He hadn’t meant to be so livid but he had come home, wanting to fix things with her, and she was gone and Teddy was gone too and the boy was Draco’s responsibility and he had let him disappear with no idea of where he’d gone.

“Can you stop moping around? You don’t have much time,” Zabini told him, stalking into the room to poke him with his wand.

“Time for what?” Draco grumbled.

“Ah, oops, right. I never told you. Got a little, er, distracted by Victor Krum. My newest conquest. Have you seen him recently? Handsome bloke, really. Anyway, back on topic, I really am the worst, aren’t I?”

Draco glanced at Blaise in confusion. The smirk on his friend’s lips did nothing to squash his sudden panic.

“What did you do?”

“Me? I did nothing. I’m simply trying to mend our damaged friendsh—”

“Zabini!”

“You’ll never guess who stopped me after I talked to your lover, Ginny—”

“You saw her?” He sat up so quickly dots appeared in his vision. “Where?”

Alarm was threatening to overwhelm him. Blaise had seen Ginny somewhere? Knowing Zabini, that meant he had stopped and spoken to her. What had he said to her? What had she said to him?

“—right outside the bookshop, she stopped me!” Blaise continued loudly over Draco. “Granger! Hermione Granger! Who would’ve thought? Not me. So—”

“Can you get to the point?” Draco hissed, tempted to take out his wand and curse Blaise.

“I’m trying,” Blaise responded coolly. “You keep interrupting me.”

When Draco’s expression darkened considerably, Zabini sighed.

“Fine, fine. Granger stopped me outside Flourish and Blotts. Came running after me, actually, with that mousey thing she calls her daughter. She said Ginny’s been a right terror the past week and she knows how to fix it.”

A right terror? Ginny? Why? Because—could it be? Could she have been upset because of him? Because of their fight the other night? Or, maybe, because they hadn’t been speaking?

Something akin to hope flared in Draco’s chest, pushing his breath out of his lungs. He wanted to ignore it but it was blooming, flooding his body with optimism.

“How?”

“Well, if you’re willing to take a Mudblood’s advice—”

Draco shook his head once, stopping what would’ve surely been one of Blaise’s long winded, rude explanations.

“Tell me,” Draco ordered.

Grumbling, Blaise replied.

“She says Molly Weasley invited you to dinner at the Burrow. Granger thinks that’s likely the best place for you to meet up with your lover again. But, ah, the dinner is tonight. I thought she said it normally starts around eight but she told me that you’d probably do best to get there early—”

It was Friday. It was Friday and the weekly dinner at the Burrow was happening. Pulling out his pocket watch, Draco stared in slight horror. It was already almost seven and he had been lying in bed, drowning in his sorrows, all day. He needed to shower. He needed to get ready. He needed to prep himself.

“Did I do good?” Blaise asked sweetly.

“Yes,” Draco breathed. “Now get the hell out of here, I need to think.”

“Think? About what? Don’t waste this gift—”

“Leave, Blaise!”

Blaise rolled his eyes and sauntered out of the room.

“Ta!” he called over his shoulder as Draco rushed to the shower.

~.*.~.*.~.*.~.*.~