To love or not to love, that is the question
Chapter 3: You don't choose your family
"Damn," Ginny swore silently, "But if he thinks that I won't get back at him, then he's gravely mistaken. Watch out Malfoy, you disgusting, leering git!"
After that mental outburst of emotion, Ginny decided to cool off, using the most pleasant way (save kicking Malfoy in his… shin, of course) - eating ice-cream at Florean Fortescue's. She would be needing her energy when telling Fred and George how much exactly she liked her new hair colour. Ginny grinned despite herself, actually looking forward to tell her brothers her opinion in a very colourful way. This thought made her frown immediately.
"That's not like me," she said to herself with worry. "Usually, I don't complain much when they play pranks on me. What's going on?"
But since Ginny was a bright girl, she came quickly to a conclusion.
"Malfoy's probably a bad influence on me," she thought, grimacing. "Oh, did I say 'probably'? He is a bad influence for sure."
Trying not to think about Malfoy anymore (for this was far from being pleasant and Ginny hated such thoughts), she flopped down on a chair at a table at Fortescue's and ordered cherry-flavoured ice-cream.
*/*/*/*/*/*/*
Draco was walking down the southern part of Diagon Alley with a smile on his face (which was rare) and a feeling of deep satisfaction (which was even rarer). He had spent one and a half month without making somebody miserable (his parents weren't exactly options and according to Draco, house-elves didn't count) and that encounter with Weasley had ended positively for him and had left her extremely uncomfortable. Draco had to congratulate himself. It seemed that he'd been able to turn this day into a good one. Only that at this point, he had no idea how very wrong he was with his assessment.
Suddenly, a high voice coming from behind his back made him stop dead in his tracks.
Draco felt his shoulders tense and something akin to an iron lump place itself in his stomach.
No, please let it not be her, he thought desperately. Let it not be…
"Draco!" a woman exclaimed, sounding thrilled.
The boy's shoulders sagged in resignation and he turned slowly around to face the speaker.
All he could see was red.
Draco brushed away some strands of the woman's scarlet hair with an impatient move and squinted up to her face that was very tanned. Nevertheless, it showed the owner's age which was around sixty.
"Hello, Auntie Mel," Draco muttered, keeping his hands in his pockets and his eyes down.
But even with this impolite behaviour, he couldn't avoid the unavoidable.
The woman swept him into a bear-hug which one wouldn't consider her capable of, crushing half of his ribs in the process and exclaimed in delight, "This must be my luckiest day since Christmas! I'm so glad to see you! It has been too long since your last visit. Six months! Imagine!"
Yeah. Imagine, Draco thought sourly, trying to last through the lack of oxygen. Six blissful months. Half a year without danger of being choked to death. Possibly my best months ever.
But of course, he didn't voice his disrespectful thoughts.
Melinda O'Brien wasn't someone you would want on your wrong side. She was, in fact, Narcissa's aunt with no children or husband and incredibly rich. Even Lucius admitted that she was wealthier than the Malfoys, which had been one of his reasons to marry Narcissa. Melinda had always had an extremely soft spot when it came to her only niece, which had extended itself to Draco as well. It was very likely that one of those two would inherit her fortune. Lucius and Narcissa were aware of that and so Melinda received very respectful and tolerant treatment from the Malfoys, even though she beat Dumbledore in extravagance and even though she was as un-Malfoyish as possible.
Her hair, having originally had a muddy shade of brown with grey streaks here and there, was dyed scarlet and went down to her knees. She preferred to wear it open and when there was wind, people around her couldn't see anything than red hair everywhere. Both of her lower arms were covered with platinum bracelets because that was her favourite metal. You never saw her without less than four necklaces and ten various Make-up and Beauty Charms.
Not that they helped, anyway, Draco used to think about it.
Melinda had a foible for jewellery, but somehow, she detested rings. Draco suspected it was due to a disease that made her fingers swell, but he cautiously refrained from asking. After all, if that was really the reason, why didn't she see a mediwizard?
But that wasn't his problem. All he had to care about was being friendly and respectful so that he would inherit her fortune as soon as she was dead. That had been his father's words and Draco had decided to obey because disobeying Lucius Malfoy wasn't exactly for your benefit, mildly speaking. However, he found it difficult to treat a person with respect when he considered them being completely bonkers.
Which normal person would wear an amount of jewellery that's heavier than themselves? Which normal person would buy a whole herd of ponies and let them become wild and run around their estate doing what they wanted? Which normal person would converse with plants and would spend hours studying the leaf lining of herbs with unpronounceable names? And which normal person would ever call Dumbledore 'the greatest wizard that has ever walked upon Earth' and sigh dreamily??
Lucius used to say that money justified everything, but in Draco's opinion, Melinda O'Brien was the infamous example that confirmed this rule.
While she was hugging him enthusiastically and making his head spin with the heavy scent of her perfume, Draco wondered desperately if he was going to survive this and what she was going to do next. He got the answer straight away.
Melinda finally released him and, holding him on arm-length away, she peered intently into his face with her watery-blue eyes.
"You seem different, somehow," she remarked after a moment of silence.
Draco only barely refrained from rolling his eyes.
Big deal. People in my age use to do that. It's called growing up, he thought.
Melinda went on happily, putting an arm around Draco's shoulders.
"You are fifteen now," she announced (as if he didn't know that himself). "That's an important age!"
She winked at him. "When I was fifteen, I got engaged for the first time."
This genuinely surprised him. What sort of incredible fool would even consider marrying her?
"We didn't marry, though," Mel continued, the cheerful spark in her eyes not subsiding, as if it didn't bother her at all. "Fortunately. He was such a bore. My second engagement was when I was 17, but I didn't marry that one, either. All in all, I must have been engaged around seven times. However, nobody married me in the end," she concluded, sounding not the least bit sorry.
Draco raised his eyebrows. Wonder why, he thought ironically. What is she getting at, anyway?
As if she had been reading her grand-nephew's mind, Melinda spoke up again.
"Enough of my unsuccessful love-life. There's something I want you to have, Draco."
She reached into a pocket of her robes, drew out something glittering - some sort of jewellery, to Draco's great surprise and gave it to him. It was a fine chain with what looked like two silvery dragons facing each other, attached to it. Draco examined the pendant closely. The dragons were real masterpieces of craftsmanship. Every single detail of their scales and wings was visible and instead of an eye, each of them had a tiny gem - an emerald and a ruby. When Draco squinted at them, they seemed to move.
"Wow," he muttered and stroked the delicate work with his thumb.
"So you like it?" his great-aunt asked eagerly.
Draco snapped out of his absorption.
"What? Oh yes, it's wonderful. Thanks!" he replied somewhat distractedly.
He would've said that even if she had given him a horrendous pink heart-shaped pendant on a golden chain in order to please her, though, but this time, he meant it.
"I haven't succeeded in finding a second chain that would fit, but I'll send it to you as soon as I find one," Melinda told him cheerfully, apparently happy that he liked the present.
Draco shot her a quizzical glance.
"A second chain?" he echoed.
Melinda nodded, as if that had been obvious. "Sure." She pointed at the dragons. "There are two pendants."
Draco gazed at the dragons' heads and noticed a little ring on each of them.
"Why two?" he wondered loudly.
"Well…," his great-aunt began, the twinkle in her eyes showing how much she was enjoying the situation. "It's because I expect you to fall in love soon, you know, teenage hormones and such. So when you find a girl - or a boy, I'm not so old-fashioned - you can give them one of the pendants. Trust me, girls like that sort of things. I don't know about boys, though…," she trailed off thoughtfully.
Draco gasped with indignation. Why on earth did she mention boys concerning that matter? Did she think he was gay?
"Apart from this, I think she's got a very wrong image about me. As if I would ever fall in love. It makes you weak, vulnerable and foolish. A Malfoy can be none of that," he told himself, but refrained from saying it out loud. Instead, he contented himself by throwing his great-aunt a dark look.
Melinda, however, didn't notice her grand-nephew's displeasure, or if she did, she didn't show it. Still having an arm around Draco's shoulders, she continued walking with him down the southern part of Diagon Alley, rambling about a party she had organized for the Society of Venus Flytrap- and Other Carnivorous Plants-Lovers. After a minute, Draco's behaviour had switched to standard Auntie-Mel-Mode, that is, nodding once per minute plus saying things like 'Uh-uh', 'Really?', 'How interesting!' and 'You don't say so?'. The trick was to make it sound believable, but after 15 years, Draco was an expert.
Finally, after two hours of keeping up a steady stream of chatter that was getting on Draco's nerves, Melinda rushed off to Zarah Wilkinson's Beauty Centre for Witches, leaving a very exhausted, but equally relieved Draco behind. He drew a hand through his hair tiredly and made his way home, muttering not-so-flattering comments on his great-aunt's account.
*/*/*/*/*/*
Having had her favourite ice-cream, Ginny was in considerably better mood than before, but her determination to tell off the twins hadn't faded one bit.
She used the Floo Network to get back home. The moment she stumbled out of the fireplace in the kitchen, she realized how fast the time must have flown by because her mother, Fred, George, Ron, Harry and Hermione were sitting at the kitchen table having dinner.
They had all looked up and everyone save the twins was now regarding her with surprise due to her hair-colour. Ignoring the curious glances they were giving her, Ginny strode over to the table and fixed Fred and George with the coldest stare she could muster.
"Well," she said, putting her hands on her hips, "What do you have to say for your defence?"
The twins stirred uncomfortably, not quite knowing what to say. Ginny was usually a good sport when they played pranks on her. Not this time, though.
"She doesn't really look like herself," Fred thought, avoiding her piercing stare, "The black hair makes her look different somehow, not exactly older, but harder…colder."
George had pretty much the same thoughts, which wasn't surprising. He was used to his little sister expressing anger by crying or yelling at the top of her voice. Such a controlled behaviour of hers seemed alien to him.
"Look, Ginny," Fred searched for a possible argument to get back on his sister's good side. "George and I meant well. We thought that you might like looking a bit different once," he said, attempting to smile sunnily in order to persuade her that it had been an innocent little joke and that she shouldn't take it so seriously.
Ginny didn't share his opinion at all.
"Oh, and so you just thought 'Let's dye Ginny's hair black, shall we? Maybe she will like it, and even if she doesn't, it won't matter. She will put up with it anyway because she's too nice - no, too weak to complain about us.'?!" she spat out, well aware that it wasn't entirely true, but certain that it would startle her brothers. It would make them feel uncomfortable and while Ginny knew she was being unfair, she didn't care. The fact that it was not right didn't stop her. Neither did that Fred's and George's stunned faces at her exclamation. What they had done hadn't been that bad, had it? But Ginny apparently thought otherwise. After all, she had been treated like this by Malfoy and, being only human, Ginny only gave on what she had received.
She began to pace in the kitchen in a mock-thoughtful manner.
"If I get that correctly, you assume I want something when it's coincidentally identical with the effect of some sort of your horrible joke products. Like the time you thought I always wanted to fly without a broomstick and so you fed me a Canary Cream, for example. Well, I will tell you a secret. I have never wanted to fly without a broomstick. And I have certainly never wanted my hair to be a different colour than RED!" she clarified, looking first into George's and then into Fred's face, hard.
They winced at her stare and immediately had to ask themselves in irritation why on earth their little sister made them feel as if they had done something horribly wrong. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, especially because it was caused by someone they considered too kind, gentle and innocent to make anyone feel uncomfortable.
"Listen, Gin," George began, a hint of impatience in his voice, but his sister cut him off.
"No, YOU will listen, George," she said in a quiet tone, barely more than a whisper. "I have been target for your useless, stupid jokes long enough. If you can't overcome your immaturity, at least don't let it out on me because I am sick and tired of it. I will not tolerate any such behaviour in the future. I am your sister and you will treat me with the respect you owe me. And if not," Ginny's eyes became another degree colder, but her voice remained even, "then the word 'sorry' won't even begin to describe what you will be."
With that, she turned around and went calmly up to her room, leaving the others in a shocked silence.
After she was out of sight, Ron cleared his throat and looked at the twins, genuinely puzzled.
"What was that about?" he asked. "She couldn't have flown off the handle just because you dyed her hair?!"
Fred grimaced. "As you had the pleasure to see and hear, she apparently could. But I don't understand it, either."
He threw his mother a helpless glance. Molly had been looking pensive during the whole encounter and now she spoke up, showing maternal insight.
"Of course she wasn't angry just because of the hair. It's about principles. And as a matter of fact, I agree with Ginny about this one, although I wouldn't have expressed it they way she did," Molly said, a look of faint amusement crossing her face.
She had obviously known that her daughter's harsh words had been only a show to turn the twins' attention to what she didn't want them to do anymore. Otherwise, they probably wouldn't have listened.
Molly regarded Fred and George sternly. "Quit playing so many pranks on her. She's your little sister and you should protect her and not make her feel miserable," she announced and the twins nodded mutely.
Fortunately, Ginny didn't hear what her mother had said because it would have upset her even more. Molly had certainly meant well, but even her maternal instinct had failed to realize that Ginny didn't want protection and friendly condescension from her brothers, but respect and tolerance.
One of the main reasons why Ginny had always liked Charlie best was that he treated her like an equal. He didn't regard her as inferior just because she was younger and a girl.
"Of course," Ginny told herself, now lying on her bed in her room, "Bill, Percy, Ron and the twins probably don't mean to patronize me, but I guess they can't - or don't want to stop listening to their macho-mind that tells them that, for I am the youngest one and a girl, I can't do what they do and that I'll never be on their level, concerning no matter what."
She sighed, fiddling with a strand of her hair and then realized that it was still black. For a moment, she was tempted to let it stay like this for her classmates to see in two weeks, but then she resolved not to. Black didn't go so well with her skin as her usual hair-colour did.
After a while, Ginny went down again to ask her mother to turn her hair back to its normal colour, which Molly did. However, she couldn't help telling her daughter how changed she had seemed when she had told her brothers off. Not only in her appearance, but also in her behaviour.
"I had to wonder where my sweet little Ginny had stayed when I heard you talking like a completely different person," she said gently and smiled at her daughter. Ginny gave her a faint smile in return, choosing to ignore the question behind her mother's words as to what had happened to render her in such an unusually bad mood.
Having her normal hair-colour back, Ginny decided to begin with her holiday homework since September 1st wasn't so far away. She focused on her Potions assignment because, on the contrary to most of her brothers, she truly liked that subject. Sometimes she even had the impression that Snape didn't treat her as unfairly as he treated other Gryffindors, but that could also be her over-active imagination, as she used to tell herself.
Having finished Potions homework, which had been surprisingly easy, she moved on to Astronomy. She didn't look forward to it because she had never liked star-gazing, and star-charts resembled to her what Magical Runes would resemble to a Muggle. Ginny could read runes fairly well because it interested her, but that didn't help her with Astronomy. On the other hand, Prof. Sinistra had been quite nice with this particular assignment. Ginny had a piece of a map of the night sky and she had to find out which star signs were depicted on it. For this, she could consult her schoolbooks.
After a while, Ginny strongly suspected that the map showed the summer sky over the northern hemisphere. She had been able to detect Cassiopeia and Ursa Major and her book averred that she should also see Leo, Polaris (even if this wasn't a star sign) and…
Ginny froze.
…Draco.
Groaning, she banged her head on her table. Why on earth did Malfoy had to show up everywhere? He was haunting her. Moreover, something about his slimy appearance and his trademark sneer (she kept wondering whether he actually had it patented, they way he wore it) was highly disturbing - mildly speaking.
"It's not fair," Ginny grumbled. "I want to enjoy myself and go to Diagon Alley - and who do I see there? Malfoy, of course. I want to behave myself and do my homework and what does nearly jump into my face? Draco. Our dear Mr. Death Eater junior. What a shame that a prat like him bears the name of such a wonderful animal. My condolences to all the dragons in the world."
Sighing heavily, she finished the Astronomy assignment with disgust. It took her longer than she had expected because the image of Draco Malfoy had settled itself in her brain and kept distracting her.
It was annoying.
"If he was at least handsome," Ginny thought with exasperation after two hours of involuntarily picturing her arch-enemy. "But this disgusting, colourless sort of hair! It looks so oily, flattened against his skull with those tons of - dunno what he uses - grease, maybe. Eew."
Ginny had always preferred dark hair and she found it endearing when it was sticking into all directions like Harry's did. Moreover, she liked dark eyes and thought that Draco's grey ones were extremely unappealing if not ugly.
"I will tell him that next time I see him. Maybe then he will stop strutting around as if Hogwarts belonged to him and perhaps he will even realize that he isn't so irresistible as he thinks," Ginny mused. "Might be good for him. After all, he's got such a big head that I'm surprised it hadn't already burst. There wouldn't even be a great mess if it did because Malfoy happens to belong to the special sort of brainless people everyone is so fond of."
She grinned evilly.
However, Ginny wasn't being entirely fair. Despite all his flaws, Draco was intelligent. Like Ginny, he excelled at Potions (which wasn't due to Snape, but to his own skill - well, mostly) and naturally, he had a vast knowledge of hexes, jinxes, curses and Defence against the Dark Arts thanks to his upbringing. The ability of speaking Latin went without saying. Ginny didn't know these things, but even if she had done so, her opinion that he was a hateful, useless git wouldn't have faltered.
*/*/*/*/*/*
In the following two weeks, Ginny tried to enjoy the rest of her holidays (and Malfoy-free days) as much as possible and noticed with positive surprise that things had changed subtly since the fateful day of telling off the twins. Not only they were showing more respect, but so did Harry. He actually talked to her! Okay, Ginny had to admit it had been neutral themes like Quidditch, however, it made her happy nonetheless. She suspected that Hermione had spoken to him on Ginny's behalf, but she didn't care if the results were like this. Due to the change in her personal hero's behaviour, Ginny spent the remaining days of her vacation well and therefore her mood sank rapidly as she woke up in the morning of September 1st. The weather didn't contribute to improving her mood, either. It was cold, cloudy and it looked as if it was about to rain.
Pulling the sheets over her head, Ginny curled up in the warmth of her bed, and cursed the beginning of the school-year because she would inevitably see Malfoy again. Her spirits lightened up considerably when Molly came to wake her up, announcing that they would be all Portkeyed to Hogwarts due to a Ministry order, seeing that a ride on the Hogwarts Express could be possibly dangerous for Harry.
Ginny smiled. That meant no Malfoy until the Feast in the evening. Splendid! He had always used the fact that there were no teachers on the train to annoy Harry, Ron and Hermione or Ginny, for that matter. This time, they would be spared.
Since travelling via Portkey was very quick, they had time until 6 p.m. when they would be transported to Hogwarts. The twins stayed in their room, plotting new ways to annoy the teachers in the coming school-year and Ron set himself the sheer impossible task of teaching Hermione to play chess properly. That left Harry and Ginny behind.
Harry watched his two friends playing or better arguing about chess, grinning. Ginny observed him dreamily and was startled when he turned to her and flashed a smile.
"Not much to do for us here, is there?" he remarked with a twinkle in his incredibly green eyes. "Let's go outside."
If he had said 'Let's go drown ourselves in the next river.', Ginny wouldn't have objected. She loved Harry's smile. It was so sweet and gentle. What a contrast to Malfoy's usual horrible sneer! Ginny scolded herself mentally while following Harry outside. To think about Harry and Malfoy within the same minute - how could she! The image of Malfoy destroyed the wonderful, shiny picture of Harry and made it look twisted and impure.
"Impure," Ginny thought, slightly shocked. "Now I'm even using his vocabulary. Trust Malfoy to corrupt people even in his absence."
Fortunately, Harry had the opposite effect on her. Ever since he had saved her in the Chamber of Secrets, she felt secure and protected around him, even though her rational alter-ego kept telling her that if somebody really wanted to harm her, Harry wouldn't be able to stop them. Ginny didn't care. She felt safe with Harry, period.
Harry enjoyed Ginny's presence because usually, her radiant cheerfulness kept his dark thoughts away. His feelings about the upcoming school-year were split. He still regarded Hogwarts as his true home, but it would painfully remind him of all the events that had taken place there two months ago. That night, he had woken up covered with sweat, his heart pounding wildly because he had dreamed about Cedric's death again. It might get worse at Hogwarts. Harry had resolved to get himself a potion for dreamless sleep if it did because those nightmares were making a mental wreck out of him.
The presence of Ron and Hermione, but also that of Ginny who seemed so changed, so self-confident now, was a kind of anti-pole to all this darkness. The silent understanding and support of his two friends helped him a lot and he had to admit that Ginny's uncovered admiration stroked his ego although he didn't consider himself worthy of it or of anyone else's admiration, for that matter.
*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*
When Draco found out that Weasley, Potter, Granger and Weasley weren't on the Hogwarts Express, he felt an odd stab of disappointment. Of course, that was only because he was deprived of bullying his favourite targets, he convinced himself. Accordingly, he found the hours on the train extremely dull and came to Hogwarts in quite a bad mood. The Weasleys, Harry and Hermione arrived, on the contrary to Draco, as cheerful as you could be at the start of a new school-year.
A/N: Thanks for reviewing to Jade~_~, Array, megh and burgosdamasco.