Ginny Apparated right outside the Burrow, and pushed her way through the door, feeling edgy. She glanced around the kitchen that was usually bustling and frowned. It was completely deserted. "Mum! Dad? Is anyone here?"
"We're in the parlor, Ginny." Her mother's voice floated to her through the halls of the house. Frowning and wondering why they were in the rarely used parlor, Ginny hurried through the house and into the parlor. She stopped dead, her eyes wide as she stared at all her brothers that were scattered about the room, all of them looking grim. She saw with a brief--very brief--pang in her heart that Percy was the only one missing. But then, he had removed himself from their family long ago. Most of the time she ceased worrying or thinking about him. He had made his choice.
She flicked a glance at her parents, who looked just as solemn as her normally loud brothers. Even Ron was there. He was rarely home now that he was training under Jonathon to become an Auror. Obviously it was something serious if he was home. She bit her lip and looked toward her father for comfort. "Dad? Is something wrong?" she asked anxiously.
Arthur sighed heavily. "We wanted to discuss Jonathon's proposal with you, sweetpea."
She blinked. "You know about it?"
"Of course," Molly chimed in, wringing her hands. "He ran it by your father and I before he ever owled you."
Getting permission from my parents, Ginny thought with a spurt of anger. Wouldn't she ever be seen as anything but the youngest Weasley? But she shoved down the familiar anger and forced herself to listen. She sighed and seated herself in an overstuffed chair. The twins were perched on the arms of the chair, and even their normal cheerful faces were solemn. Molly made a dismissive gesture to them, and they obediently moved so that Molly could clearly see her youngest child.
"Did Jonathon talk to you?" Molly asked anxiously.
Ginny nodded. "I spoke with him just a few minutes ago."
"And? What did you tell him about his proposal?" Fred asked eagerly. "You told him to shove it, didn't you?"
She gave him a withering look. "No," she said quietly. "I didn't. I told him that I would do it. It happens tomorrow."
An angry buzz rose from her assembled brothers, and her mother looked on the verge of tears. Her father looked as if he aged before her very eyes. "I thought you would," he said wearily. "But I had to give you the choice."
She bit her tongue before the bitter words emerged, and just waited in silence. The explosion came from Ron. "Why are you marrying one of those pieces of scum?" he snarled. "You know what they've done, and you want to marry one of them? Sleep with one of them?"
Ginny snarled down at him. "I fought them just as you did, Ron. Don't think that I've forgotten. And no, I won't be sleeping with one of them. The marriage will be a sham, to try to patch up the hole that's opening up between regular folk and former Deatheaters."
"Why is that a bad thing?" George retorted. "Let them rot, I say." Molly shushed him, her eyes still glittering with tears.
Ginny snorted. "Damned if I know."
"Because we're civilized folk," Arthur said wearily. "And lynching them makes us no better than they. Two wrongs don't make a right." He looked briefly pleased to have used the Muggle expression, then his expression reverted back to gloom.
"But Dad," Charlie protested, "why should Ginny have to be the sacrifice?"
Precisely what I want to know, Ginny thought sourly, although she already knew why. But it still rankled.
"Because she's famous, Charlie," Molly said, sniffling. "And because your father is an important man in the Ministry. That makes her a political figure."
Her brothers all snorted in unison, and Ginny rolled her eyes. No matter what accomplishments that she managed, she would always be their little sister. That was one thing that would never change, she thought wryly. And the thought didn't bother her. It was just when everyone else had that same mentality that it bothered her.
"So who are you going to marry?" Bill asked her, his lips pressed tightly together.
She hesitated and glanced sideways at Ron, who was glaring furiously at the floor. "Draco Malfoy," she admitted, and watched as Ron lunged to his feet amid the shocked chatter that filled the room.
"Malfoy?" he snarled. "I'll be damned before I let you marry him, Ginny! That bastard tortured us all through school!"
She surged to her feet to stand toe-to-toe with him. "You think I like it any better?" she snapped back at him. "You're not the one that has to live in the same house with the bastard, eat the same meals, and pretend to adore him whenever you're in public. I don't see that this affects you at all, Ron."
"I'm not going to let the bastard who was the heir of Slytherin marry my baby sister!" Ron roared at her.
She felt her temper bubble. "I can take care of myself!" she shouted back at him, her fists clenched at her sides. "I'm not just your baby sister, Ronald! I killed Deatheaters the same as you did. Just because I don't choose to make it a career doesn't change that fact."
He blinked, startled at that angle of attack. Then he shouted back at her, "No one ever said that you didn't!"
"You did!" she retorted. "You like to pretend that you have to protect me from everything, but I'm twenty-two years old, Ron. I graduated from Hogwarts with honors, and I stood on that battlefield the same as you. I think that makes me fully qualified to take care of myself! And this is none of your business." She turned her furious gaze on each of her brothers in turn. "None," she repeated. "There was no other choice. Soon the families would be lynched and mobbed in the streets. Then what happens? Civil warfare, that's what. Do you want to go to war again--only this time with ourselves?"
"We wouldn't be fighting ourselves!" Charlie said hotly. "We'd be fighting Deatheaters!"
"Then what happens after that?" she snapped. "What happens when we start to see Deatheaters around every corner? Once the former Deatheater families are gone, who says that it's done? Who says that it's all right to stop murdering people for their supposed loyalties?"
There was a charged silence in the room. "You have a very good grasp on what's happening," Arthur said quietly. "Did Jonathon tell you all this?"
"No," she said curtly. "I can figure it out for myself, Dad. It's not a far mental jump. There was no one else who was suitable for this. It will only be for a few weeks, and then it will be over. Once the tension's died down, we'll quietly get divorced."
"So you'll legally be married?" George asked in dismay.
"Yes," Molly said, sniffling furiously. "She'll legally be someone's wife. My little baby." Then she promptly burst into tears.
All the boys in the room, including her husband, drew back in horror. Because Ginny and Molly were the only females in the family, and they never cried, the men were all useless around female tears. Ginny went and knelt at her mother's feet and hugged her. "Hush, Mama," she said quietly, rocking her mother as Molly wept on her shoulder. "Don't think of this as me getting married. Just think of it as one of Fred and George's tricks."
Molly sniffled into her daughter's shoulder. "But you are getting married!"
"Not truly," Ginny said firmly, although the thought of what would happen tomorrow tied her stomach into knots. She endured her mother's sniffling for a few more minutes before Molly sat back in her chair and wiped at her eyes with trembling fingers.
"It just doesn't seem right," Molly said tearfully. "It doesn't seem right that my baby is even old enough to get married."
So that's what was wrong, Ginny thought with a mental sigh. Her mother was worried about her growing up. But she didn't have anything to respond to that, just stayed kneeling by her mother's feet. "We're just worried about you, sweetpea," Arthur said sadly. "We don't want you hurt."
"I'm not going to be hurt," she said firmly. "I can take care of myself. I know none of you believe it, but it's true. And I won't have all of you popping in to check on me," she said sternly. "What would that look like to the public? We're supposed to show a united front. So I need you to help me on this."
She saw her brother's mutinous faces and bit her tongue before the angry words emerged. Finally she said with deceptive calm, "If I can be the fatted calf, then you can lie. You will help me on this, because if I marry him and then you fuck it up, I will make your life a living hell."
"Virginia Annette Weasley!" Her mother said in a shocked voice at Ginny's crudity, and promptly popped her on the head. Ginny muttered another curse under her breath and rubbed at her aching head, but she shot her brothers a glare. They all looked grumpy, but with a sigh of relief, she knew that they would do what she had asked.
Thinking of all the things that she would have to pack before tomorrow, Ginny rose to her feet. "I need to go home," she said quietly. "I have some packing to do."
Molly clutched at Ginny's hand and stared up at her daughter with pleading eyes. "Please stay for dinner," she implored.
Looking down into her mother's watery eyes, Ginny sighed deeply. She desperately wanted to go home and hide beneath the covers and pretend that today hadn't happened. She needed time to assimiliate everything that had happened and she had heard, and she wasn't going to get that in her noisy home. But looking down into her mother's upset face, Ginny knew that she couldn't just leave when her mother was so upset. "All right," she said with a sigh. Molly immediately perked up and rose to her feet. "I'll go start getting dinner ready," she said hurriedly, then rushed out of the room.
Ginny seated herself in her mother's vacant chair, and saw that her father was looking a little watery himself. But to her intense relief, he didn't cling to her as her mother had. Circe knew that Ginny adored her mother, but she was in emotional overload and she didn't think she could deal with everyone else's emotions at the moment. But then, it had always been that way. Ginny was the lodestone that drew the family to her when they were troubled or upset. She always listened and never judged--as best as she could--and everyone walked away feeling better.
Except Ginny herself. She had borne the heartache of her brothers' private struggles and pranks that they kept from their parents, the worry of knowing the stupid things that they did but swore her to secrecy. She accepted the burden because it was her nature. But sometimes she felt like she was going to burn out, like all the emotion that was loaded upon her would someday break her.
She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, feeling her temples throb with the headache that was rapidly rising. She hated to fight with her family. She was more than ready to pick a fight with anyone that wasn't a family member or as good as one--like Harry and Hermione--but fighting with her family made her feel queasy. She saw Ron opening his mouth to argue, and said abruptly, "I'm going upstairs for a little while." She rose quickly from the chair and escaped up to her room.
She opened the door and drew in the warm, comforting scent of her own room. There was her oldest broom, the first one that her parents had bought for her. She had a newer one now that she kept in her flat, but she kept this old one for the memories that it evoked. The bed was perfectly made, testament of her mother's cleaning presence. Books on Quidditch and fiction books randomly littered the room, and she could smell the warm scent of vanilla. She closed the door behind her and crawled up on the bed, feeling some of the tension ease from her shoulders.
She cuddled up against the pillow and soon fell asleep, hoping to forget the events of the day and what would happen tomorrow.
__________________________
"Hey, Miz Weasley, is this all?" The young wizard asked her, popping his gum. Ginny glanced up at him, her eyes distracted. "Yes, yes, that's it, Tom," she said quickly. He nodded and murmured a quick spell and the box floated along as he made his way out of the apartment. Ginny looked around her flat, feeling a lump clog her throat. Although her furniture was still here, it felt empty. It didn't feel like her home anymore. Her clothes had all been cleaned out of her closet, everything was spotlessly clean for once, and all of her little treasures had been boxed and were being sent to Malfoy Manor.
She bit her lip, feeling tears tremble on her lashes. She felt like she was leaving forever, instead of for a few weeks. As she left her room she ran her hand over the hall table and suppressed a sniffle. This was her home. At the Burrow, she was just another kid in her large family. Here she was an independent, capable witch who was fully grown, instead of the child her family still thought her. She had already said goodbye to Mrs.Kingsley, and told her that she was going away for a little while. There was nothing left for her here.
She swiped angrily at the one wayward tear that had slid down her cheek, then turned sharply on her heel and out of the flat, locking it behind her. Then with a sharp, almost angry pop, she Apparated to the Ministry.
* * * * *
Ginny stalked through the Common Room of the Ministry, not even bothering to say hello to anyone. She shoved open the door to Jonathon's office and then closed it behind her almost too quietly. Malfoy was already there, lounging lazily in a chair. He glanced up when she entered, and his cool, assessing gaze went over her. She was wearing a gray pullover, jeans and tennis shoes, and her wine-red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her face devoid of cosmetics. "Well aren't we ravishing on our wedding day," he said ironically.
"Sod off, Malfoy," she snarled back at him. Her head turned toward her uncle, who was sitting in his chair and watching them with troubled eyes. "Jonathon? Could we get this over with, please?"
Malfoy rose gracefully from the chair. "Ah, can't wait to get home to ravish me, I see."
Her hands curled into fists, but she held her ground. "I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole, Malfoy," she said coldly. "So you can keep on dreaming."
"Having nightmares, you mean," he said blandly. "I don't want that skinny little freckled body of yours, Weaslette, so you won't have to fight me off with a stick."
She ground her teeth together. "Bite me, Malfoy."
"No thanks," he murmured placidly. "I'll take my attentions elsewhere. Where I'm not afraid that they'll be chopped off."
Ginny bared her teeth in a feral smile and didn't say anything. With a heavy sigh, Jonathon rose from his chair. "For the sake of this whole plan to work, it requires that you both not mutiliate or kill one another," he said dryly. "So please don't."
Ginny shot Draco a dirty look, which he returned with a supercilious lift of his eyebrow. Draco broke the eye contact first, which made Ginny grimly pleased. "Could we get this over with?" he asked coldly. "I have meetings to attend."
Ginny bit her tongue before the bitter words slipped out. Her nails dug into her skin as she clenched her fists harder. Jonathon stepped out from behind his desk and took his wand out and gestured for Draco and Ginny to stand side by side in front of him.
"Marriage is a trust," he said quietly. "A trust between two people who care for one another." Ginny and Draco turned to glare at one another. "A trust that--"
"Can we skip this part?" Ginny said impatiently. "Pretty much none of it applies."
"It should," Jonathon said heavily, but he skipped most of the ceremony. He glanced over at Draco. "Do you have the rings?"
Draco withdrew a small velvet box from his pocket with a flourish. Ginny felt her heart give a funny little thump, and couldn't decide if it was annoyance or sorrow. She should have married a man she loved, she thought sadly. It should have been a man that she adored that offered her a ring, instead of a man she despised. Draco opened the box, and Ginny sucked in a sharp breath when she saw the ring.
Her ring was a square-cut, 3 carat pink diamond set in white gold. Her shocked gaze flew to Draco's cold eyes. "This is completely extravagant!" she sputtered. "I'm not really your wife, Malfoy! I don't need something like this."
"You're my wife," he said coldly. "At least that's what everyone believes. And my wife will have a ring like this."
She gaped at him for a moment, then shook herself. If Malfoy wants to spend that kind of money, then let him, she lectured herself. It's not my money. Abruptly, she realized that she hadn't bought a ring for Draco. She bit her lip just as Draco drawled, "Oh, and don't worry that you didn't buy me a ring. I didn't expect you to, so I provided one for myself."
She bristled, but kept her mouth shut since she hadn't bought him a ring. "Put the ring on her finger," Jonathon said quietly. Draco grasped Ginny's limp left hand and slid the ring onto her slender finger. Feeling like she was in a dream, Ginny took the simple gold band that Draco solemnly held out to her and slid it onto his finger. While her hand was still touching his, Jonathon touched his wand gently to the back of Ginny's hand and murmured something. She gasped in surprise when a soft white light spread over the back of her hand and over to cover Draco's hand as well. It faded slowly a moment later, the last thing to fade being the light that was above their rings.
As soon as the light was gone, Ginny snatched back her hand, her cheeks burning. "It's done," Jonathon said quietly. "You're married. Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy."
Draco and Ginny both glowered at one another, and Jonathon watched them, feeling sadness well in his heart as if it bled. His goddaughter was someone's wife now. It wasn't going to be a pleasant marriage, nor one made for love, but she was nonetheless married. He had no doubt that Molly was at home bawling her eyes out right about now.
Draco nodded curtly to Jonathon. "Minister."
Jonathon nodded solemnly to Draco. "Malfoy."
Then Draco glanced back at Ginny and curled his lip. "I assume you know where Malfoy Manor is?"
"Yes," Ginny said with great dignity, feeling like her hand still tingled from the touch of his. It was just that weird light, she dismissed instantly.
Draco gave her a wary look, almost as if he wasn't sure how to handle her when she wasn't spitting fire at him. "I've instructed the house elves that you're to arrive today. You may do what you see fit within the house. For as long as this farce lasts, you are my wife. I will assume that you will act with all the decorum and privilege that this affords you."
Ginny drew herself up to her full height proudly. "I'm just as pureblood as you are, Malfoy. I know precisely how I'm to act and will do so accordingly." She tilted her chin in the air. "If you gentlemen will excuse me," she said coolly. She nodded to Jonathon and gave her new husband a cool glance, then she strode out of the office.
Once she was gone, Jonathon spoke quietly. "Malfoy."
Startled, Draco half turned to face the Minister of Magic. "Sir?"
"Virginia Weasley is like my daughter. If you do anything to hurt her in any way, I'll hurt you very badly, Malfoy. You don't want me as your enemy." His voice was like ice, and for the first time, Draco saw past the aimable facade to a man who was steel to his very core. He covered his surprise instantly.
"But that would be breaking the terms of your own peace plan," Draco said, his eyes glittering. Despite his newfound respect for the Minister of Magic, he didn't take kindly to being threatened.
"I don't have to publicly attack you, Malfoy," Jonathon said quietly. "And it would be infinitely easier to leave Virginia a widow. Don't make me have to."
Draco studied him in silence. "I have no intention of even approaching my wife outside of public, Minister," he said shortly. "So I have no doubt that we'll get along just fine."
Jonathon eyed him with eyes that were like an icy preview of hell. Not sure if he wanted to turn his back on the man, Draco reluctantly turned and walked quickly out of the office.
* * * * *
Ginny Apparated to the gates of Malfoy Manor, and saw in disgust that she was outside the darn gates, which were firmly closed. The guard at the gate eyed her and walked toward her. "Who are you?"
"Virginia We--Malfoy," she said, cutting herself off before she said her old name. She had to get used to saying it now.
The guard's eyes widened. "I didn't know Mr. Malfoy had family."
Ginny blinked. Draco didn't have any family? She had known that his father had been an only child, but she had assumed that his mother had family somewhere. It made her sad for a moment that Draco was all alone in the world, then she abruptly reminded herself that he was a cold-blooded bastard and deserved to be alone in the world. Irritated by her own sudden bout of sympathy, Ginny said curtly, "I'm not his sister, I'm his wife."
The guard gaped at her. "I--I beg your pardon?" he stammered. "Mr. Malfoy isn't married!"
"He is now," she said shortly. "May I please enter my own house?"
He hesitated. "I can't let anyone in without identification," he said apologetically. "Please understand, Mrs. Malfoy."
Ginny's stomach knotted at the form of address, but she dug in her pocket and withdrew her I.D. card. He blinked, startled, as he read the name printed on it. "You're Virginia Weasley?"
"Yes," she said, her tone one of long-suffering. His eyes widened even more, if that was possible. Ginny wondered in annoyance what was wrong with him now. "Ronald Weasley's sister?" he asked in awe. "My brother is in Ron's squad in the Aurors. He says that everyone's in awe of him because what he did with Harry Potter."
And what about me? she wanted to ask, but held her tongue. Then he stared, his mouth opening in shock. "And that means--that means that you were there too!" He clutched at her hand, and Ginny had to suppress a wince at his sweaty palms.
"Merlin's beard, Mrs. Malfoy--I just don't know what to say!"
"Then don't say anything," she muttered. "Silence is always the best policy."
He was happily oblivious to her sarcasm. "The things that you did for everyone, helping to get rid of You-Know-Who--"
"It was nothing," she said hurriedly, wanting nothing more than to escape from him. She could feel his enthusiasm and awe through the physical contact with him, as well as a healthy attraction that he was fostering for her. It made her uncomfortable, and she gently extricated her hand.
"May I go inside now?" she asked too gently, and he nodded emphatically. "Of course, of course!" He murmured a quick spell and the heavy gates moved aside. Then he just stood beaming at her, while Ginny stared at him.
"May I have my I.D. please?" she said pointedly. He nodded and handed her the card, a blush heating his cheeks. Ginny hid a grimace at the damp card. Circe's pigs, the man must have to drink a bottle of water every hour, she thought in annoyance. Otherwise he'd be dehydrated all the time, the way that he sweats. Then she immediately felt ashamed for the thought. The poor man had done nothing but like her, and she was thinking badly about him. It was the Malfoy estate, she thought gloomily. Maybe that's why Draco was such a prick.
She trudged up the long driveway and studied the house. Malfoy Manor, she thought, her gaze scanning the expansive grounds. This was where generations of Malfoys had lived and tortured. Although the carefully tended grounds were beautiful, it was the house that held her attention. It was gorgeous, a true work of art. She knew from gossip that it had been created by one of the world's greatest architects in the sixteenth century, and had been passed down through Malfoy heirs ever since. Despite the gleaming white of the house and the graceful marble columns, it had a distinct aura of masculinity. Generations of Malfoy men had imprinted themselves on this house, Ginny thought, not able to suppress her sense of awe. No matter that she knew that the Malfoy men had been Deatheaters and general troublemakers for centuries--they had great taste in architecture. The house represented a sense of permanence that her family didn't have. Although the Burrow was full of love and laughter, it wouldn't be there two hundred years from now. None of her brothers would take over the Burrow--they would all move away to their separate corners of the earth and live their own lives. They would just naturally assume that Ginny would take over the Burrow, which wasn't going to happen. She loved her family, but she wasn't going to live her life for them.
Ginny mounted the granite steps and stepped onto the front terrace. The front door was made of dark mahoghany, arched and recessed. Violets tumbled wildly from planters that sat beside the door, and Ginny wryly decided that it must be the work of gardeners or house elves. She could never imagine Draco Malfoy out here gardening. She hesitated, not sure if she should just walk in or ring the bell. Despite that she was mistress here now, it wasn't her house. And the feeling of generations of Malfoys watching her with cold eyes hadn't faded as she walked toward the house.
Her fingertips brushed the smooth bronze doorknob and hesitated. Her slender fingers curled back into a fist for a moment, then she set her jaw. She would not let a Malfoy intimidate her. Not even dead ones. She reached out and grasped the doorknob firmly, turned, and then pushed her way inside. Much to her disappointment, trumpets didn't sound at her personal triumph. Slightly deflated, she stared around the corridor and sucked in her breath.
If the house was a masterpiece of artwork on the outside, the inside was even more so. Peacock blue and white marble tiles made up the floor of the foyer, and a wide, sweeping staircase led upstairs. She felt very small and out of place standing in the foyer in her faded jeans and hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. As she glanced around the hall, parts of the air seemed to solidify until it looked as if they were human shapes. They were opaque, and seemed to not notice her.With a jolt, she realized that what she was seeing was fragments of memories that had been imprinted into the very stones of the house. It wouldn't be apparent to anyone else, but her special skills made her especially receptive to such things.
It was a dinner party, she thought in wonder, not even bothering to consider how she was seeing a hazy glimpse of centuries before. Men with the trademark silvery blonde hair of the Malfoys moved lazily through the room, drinks held in their hands and beautiful women on their arms as they chatted soundlessly to guests. She could see the hazy views of the guests and the ancient Malfoys. Like watching a scene from a movie through foggy glass, she thought in amazement. Then the figures faded, leaving her alone in the foyer.
She let out her breath in a sharp gust, abruptly realizing that she had been holding her breath for Merlin knew how long. She shook her head. Nothing had ever happened like that to her before, she thought in surprise. She knew that she was empathic, but she had never dreamed that she was postcognative. Who knew? she thought in wry amusement. But then she had never been in a place where there were so many strong personalities imprinted upon one place. Even the Ministry wasn't like this--there were so many people in and out all the time that everything was all jumbled up, including emotions.
Ginny shook herself. Despite her shock at her new ability, the house drew her. She desperately wanted to explore, to feel the fascination of being somewhere that had a real history. She started toward the sweeping staircase and stepped up it, one hand trailing along an elegantly carved banister. I feel a bit like Belle from Beauty and the Beast when she first goes in the castle, she thought with a small smile. She had found that she had a passion for Muggle movies, and lately she had been gorging her senses upon them. The man Disney and his movies were a particular favorite, and Beauty and the Beast in particular. She had also found the Lord of the Rings movies and had drooled over the man candy present in the movie. Which was probably why Orlando Bloom showed up in my dream the other night, she thought dryly as she ventured up the stairs.
The house was silent, but she felt like the very air was vibrating around her. The upstairs was just as elegant as the downstairs, and just as spotless. Ginny wryly wondered if the house elves wouldn't quickly want to kick her out--she was terribly disorganized and messy. She bit her lip, distressed. She felt small compared to the house--her family had never been wealthy, and she valued her independence more than money. And this house was money. Privilege and all it stood for. She was dreadfully out of place. But she hardened her jaw. She was going to live here, and she was going to make it her own.
On the heels of that thought, a timid voice asked behind her, "Missus?"
She shrieked and jumped, one hand flying to her heart and the other heading for her wand. The next second she realized she was pointing her wand at a cowering house-elf. Still breathing hard from the sudden surge of adrenaline, she shoved her wand back in her pocket. "Sorry," she apologized, and saw the house-elf blink in surprise. "You startled me."
The house-elf cast her eyes down shamefully. "Blinky is sorry, Missus. Blinky did not mean to scare Missus." The house-elf drifted toward a wall and without warning slammed his head against it repeatedly. Ginny's mouth opened in shock and she leaped forward and grabbed the house-elf out of reach of the wall. "What are you doing?" she demanded.
Blinky stared up at Ginny with dazed eyes. "Blinky must punish himself."
Ginny's mouth opened and closed soundlessly for a moment. Finally she said firmly, "That's not necessary. I don't need you to punish yourself for anything."
Now it was the house-elf who stared up at her in surprise. "Not punish?"
Ginny shook her head emphatically. "No punishment."
Blinky just stared up at Ginny as if the concept was alien to him. Finally when it appeared that he wasn't going to speak again, Ginny asked him, "You know who I am?"
Blinky nodded emphatically. "Master says that red-haired lady will be our Missus, and to show you where things are."
Well at least Draco did that right, Ginny thought sourly. Instead of vocalizing her irritation with her new husband, she smiled encouragingly at Blinky. "That would be wonderful, Blinky. Unless I'm taking you from something."
Blinky stared at her in shock, nonplussed by her attempt to be kind to him. His master either ignored or snapped at him. Blinky was comfortable with that and expected it. His new mistress's kindness confused him. But he shrugged it off as a quirk of his new mistress and nodded solemnly and completely ignored her implication that she wouldn't interrupt his work. That was what masters and mistresses did. "Blinky will show Missus around," he said, puffing out his chest importantly, and Ginny hid her smile.
"Thank you," she said gravely. She rose from her half-crouch and made a broad gesture. "Lead on."
Blinky nodded, his eyes gleaming. "Yes, Missus." He marched down the hallway and opened a door that looked like all the other ones. "This is Missus's bedroom." Ginny peered around the doorway and couldn't hide her gasp.
The room was enormous. The carpets were soft and sandy colored. The bed was a king size, covered in black silken sheets. The wall opposite the doorway had glass French doors that opened onto a small balcony. Through the glass she could see that the flagstones of the balcony were warm ochre that seemed to glow with the sun's warmth. There were two rocking chairs, and gardenias spilled over one side of the balcony. Inside the room there was a vanity made of dark cherry wood with a mirror that was bare, just waiting for her things to be placed on it. In one corner of the room she could see her tattered boxes that held her things that had been transferred from her flat. The room was feminine and sumptuous, and she wasn't quite sure what to do with it.
Ginny bit her lip to fight the sudden urge to go inside and touch the silken sheets. Hell, she thought impetuously, no one was here to see her except Blinky. And she was guessing that Blinky wasn't going to go telling Draco that she had touched her own sheets. She stepped past the house-elf and into the room. She walked over to the bed and slid the sheets between her fingers, feeling the silk slide sensously over her skin.
Grinning, she opened the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony and suppressed a gasp. She had a beautiful view of the rolling expanse of land that belonged to the Malfoys. Trees liberally laced the grounds, and flowers were everywhere. Despite that the Malfoy women had never been 'nice', they certainly had loved flowers, Ginny thought dryly. They were everywhere.
She looked around the gorgeous bedroom and couldn't suppress the quiet thrill that went through her. She hesitated, wanting to ask but at the same time not wanting to know. Finally she blurted out, "Where is Draco's bedroom?"
Blinky pointed to a door in the corner of the room that she hadn't noticed before. "That leads to Master's bedroom," he said importantly. Ginny clenched her teeth. The bastard had given them adjoining rooms? But knowing that losing her temper would only frighten Blinky, she bit her tongue and tried to speak calmly. "Thank you, Blinky. I think I'm going to lie down for a little while."
Blinky nodded hastily, seeing the glitter in his mistress's eyes. "Yes, Missus." Then he escaped out of the room. Ginny marched over to the door and hesitated before she opened it. Then she shook her head, annoyance creasing her brow. Malfoy had decided to give them linking rooms. If he didn't want her snooping, then he would have put a locking charm on the door, she reasoned with herself. If it was locked, then she wouldn't go snooping. If it was unlocked, then he obviously wouldn't care.
On that thought, she turned the knob and found that it opened easily. She gulped when she saw Draco's room. All of the furniture was dark maghoghany, including the huge sleigh bed that also had black silk sheets. His room also had a balcony, but unlike hers, it was completely bare of chairs or flowers. There was a dark desk that sat on one wall, and an armoire on another wall. The room was spartan and completely masculine, unlike hers.
Her fingers nearly twitched with curiosity to go through his desk, but she told herself that even though it was Malfoy, she had no business going through his private papers. Instead she chose to go through his armoire. Her fingertips had just touched the handle when an amused voice drawled from behind her, "Not even five minutes and you're already snooping, Weaslette?"