A Study of the Mind by Alexandria Malfoy

Rating: R
Genres: Romance, Mystery
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 6
Published: 10/10/2005
Last Updated: 29/04/2007
Status: Completed

Ch. 16 & 17 POSTED! COMPLETE! AU It is after the final war and Ginny has already started to
rebuild her life. She is now a successful wizarding psychologist employed by Azkaban and St.
Mungo's. Things become rather strange when both patient and doctor start to show some
interesting changes. D/G Rated R for language and imagery.




1. Ginevra Weasley, Wizarding Psychologist
------------------------------------------

**A/N**- ASotM is based off of another famous (and favorite) pair of mine. You might not see
the relationship at first, but if you know your Batman, you should be able to figure it out by the
end. This story is not based off of said Batman relationship. I noticed certain parallels and just
added my own spin to it. Hopefully, you won't figure which Batman character I happen to be
referring to until the very end.


Chapter 1- Ginevra Weasley, Wizarding Psychologist

I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for two things: the final war and Ron.

It still amazes me that my reputation and popularity grew so much in just three short years. In
those three years many things have happened to allow me the privilege of studying my most recent
patient, but you’ll learn about him later on. For now, let’s just focus on those two reasons from
above and their importance to my career.

In order to understand my current situation, you must first understand the final war’s importance.
It was there that my fate as a wizarding psychologist was sealed.

It’s odd because I changed my mind so many times throughout the war. In terms of my career that is.
You see all of my life and even during the beginning of the war I wanted to be a Healer. I figured
that after the pain that Tom caused me, I should at least help those over come whatever physical
pain his minions bestowed upon them. And for awhile, I was content with my choice. Then the war
came and I still wanted to be a Healer. I would go to war camps, interning with the resident
Healers, learning as much as I could while trying to heal as fast as I could. It may sound strange,
but I was in heaven. Although there was plenty of blood, something I would have to get used to,
there was also plenty of Dark magic, something I knew a lot about. I’m sure you could imagine how
much of a help I was to those who were cursed with Dark magic. I also saw many students in the
infirmary that I didn’t expect to see. For example, I expected to see the Trio, but I did not
expect to see someone like Millicent Bulstrode risking her life for the better half of the
wizarding world. Yet there she was, out there with the other Aurors, trying to fight off Malfoys
Junior and Senior in their quest to appease Tom. It shocked me at first to see her at just 17,
staring death in the eye in the form of Draco Malfoy. Then again, at 16, so was I, only in a
different sense. I saw it in the eyes of those struggling to live; those I watched die at my hands.
It was a rather unsettling and that was when I decided to become an Auror.

Again, it seemed perfectly reasonable at the time. I mean, I had an extensive knowledge of the Dark
Arts (as well as some insight to Tom’s twisted mind) and I had that training with the DA up until
the war started.

I had decided to become an Auror, but I didn’t know why. At the time, I just had this innate
feeling that wouldn’t be fulfilled until I started Auror training. Now that I think about it
though, maybe it was because I wanted to prevent death from ever happening. Not very bright logic,
but that’s not the point. The point was, was that I would have given anything to be in battle.
Because we were in the middle of the war though, all of the competent Aurors available were out
fighting the good fight. A bit of an inconvenience if you ask me. I’ll admit, it discouraged me
quite a bit, but that didn’t stop me. During my ‘Auror Phase’ as I like to call it, I still worked
as a Healer, but as a fee of sorts for my wonderful skills and services, I asked for training from
those who were having an extended stay at the infirmary. It wasn’t exactly top notch training, but
it sufficed and subdued my appetite for the time being.

I like to compare my first day in battle to sex. At the time, I was still a virgin; Harry would
just have to wait until Tom was vanquished, as I constantly reminded him, but once I lost it, being
in battle was the only thing that gave me the same feeling. I don’t know why it felt that way, but
it did. It was an orgasmic, insatiably pleasurable feeling that ran through me as I stood down
those that worshipped Tom. The magic coursing through my veins seemed to increase tenfold and I
felt invincible; like nothing could stop me from killing.

Then something did.

That ‘something’ made my third career choice for me, the one that led me to become who I am today.
This ‘something’ also leads to my second reason: Ron.

How I love Ron. He’s the greatest brother any girl could ever ask for. A tad overprotective at
times, but I still love him all the same. You must be asking yourself ‘What happened and why is Ron
so important?’ Well, to answer your question, Ron is the reason why I do what I do and the
‘something’ (or ‘someone’ I should say) that I keep referring to is the one and only Draco
Malfoy.

Now I’m sure you’re also wondering how a complete prat like Malfoy plays into this; don’t worry, I
shall explain it to you right now.

It all happened on the battlefield. I had been in battle for about a week with the war having gone
on for about 2 years. I was also 18 by then. Ron on the other hand, was 19 and had been in battle
ever since the beginning of the war. Mum always said that it was a miracle that he wasn’t dead yet.
But there he was, holding his own diligently waiting until Harry and/or Dumbledore killed Tom for
good.

We had been fighting near Hogwarts that day and Lucius Malfoy had put his son up to the task of
defeating those guarding it while he did some bidding for Tom. A suicide mission if I ever saw one.
There was no way that Draco Malfoy and the Death Eater slime he was commanding could have made it
past us. It would have taken an act of divine intervention for that to occur. Though near the end,
surprisingly enough, he almost did it. Both sides were retreating quickly, but Malfoy would just
not give up. Neither would Ron. And I, being his sister, willingly followed him deeper into the
fray.

I had one purpose during that final battle. My objective was to curse the living hell out of
anything that stood in mine and Ron’s way.

By that time, Harry and Dumbledore were forced to go off to Romania to defeat Tom, Hermione was
nearly killed, so she had been hospitalized, leaving the remaining Weasleys (Ron and myself
especially) to save Hogwarts from Draco. So far, Ron and I had been pretty successful in holding
back the Death Eaters from bombarding the main entrance, when a sudden commotion caused them to
stop. It seemed that the Malfoy heir wasn’t too pleased with his minions’ progress and decided to
take care of business himself. That, my friends, was the moment of decision.

Draco marched right up to the very front, challenging Ron and me with a smirk; blood and sweat
plastering his hair to his forehead and neck. We circled each other, trying to decide who should
attack first. A clichéd move, something that reminded me of Muggle martial arts movies, but it was
effective in terms of intimidation. Our stare-down came to a point where I just couldn’t stand it
anymore and I rushed over to Draco, hoping to engage him in battle. I thought for sure that he
would have killed me right then and there, but his reaction time was slow and I hit him with one of
my infamous hexes first. I believe it was ‘Expelliarmus’, but the details get fuzzier by the day.
Like I said, he seemed hesitant, but once I disarmed him, he came crashing back to reality. He
quickly got up and used his wand like a sword, clashing it against mine. We had been fighting for a
good 15 minutes when Ron tried to join me in my battle.

“Not bad little one,” was the very last thing I remember Draco Malfoy telling me before he cast one
last curse on me, catapulting me against the Whomping Willow, where I blacked out.

From what I could tell, I was out for about twenty minutes, and when I awoke I discovered Ron and
Draco in the midst of a duel, just like I thought they would be. I had figured that as soon as I
had hit the willow that Ron took my place in front of Draco.

The two boys were dripping with sweat, looking ready to kill, obviously giving it all they had. I
carefully snuck closer to the battle; I didn’t want to be seen by Malfoy Junior.

The next ten minutes played out like a Muggle movie in slow motion.

Draco was getting weaker and Ron knew that with one final blow, he could probably finish him off
for good. Ron thought this and could have succeeded too, but Malfoy had an ace up his sleeve. As
Ron pulled back his wand to give Draco the Killing Curse, Draco yelled out ‘Crucio!’ and I knew it
was all over. Ron fell upon the mud and grass, writhing in pain, but Draco would not let up, even
when Ron was begging for mercy. The look on Malfoy’s face was a strange mixture of sympathy and a
sick, twisted pleasure. I didn’t know which emotion was stranger; the fact that he enjoyed
torturing my brother, or the fact that he felt pity for his archrival. It was interesting and scary
all at the same time.

I think I was in a bit of a trance for the six or seven minutes that Ron was under the curse. I
snapped out of it when I heard one final blood-curdling scream from my brother. Immediately I
sprung up and ran over to Malfoy, engaging him in one last battle.

It didn’t take me that long to defeat the all-powerful Draco Malfoy. In fact, I think it took me
all of about 5 seconds. I believe it was a matter of how fast I could perform the Body-Bind Curse.
Now I’m sure you’re wondering how I possibly did that without getting killed. Personally, I have no
idea. Truthfully, I think I was just too damn lucky, but more to the point, I watched Draco fall to
the ground with a loud ‘thump’ as I fell to my knees next to Ron. When I heard the scream, you see,
I thought he was dead, which is why I ran over to confront Draco. What I didn’t realize at the time
was how wrong I was.

I decided to leave Draco to the other Aurors, who hauled him into Hogwarts, as I took Ron to the
infirmary. It wasn’t until I got to the hospital wing that I realized that Ron was not dead, but in
a state of shock; my training from my Healer days kicking in at the oh-so-appropriate moment. Sorry
if you missed the sarcasm in my voice, but it was there.

Nevertheless, Ron’s fate mirrored that of the Longbottoms. He was quickly moved to the Mental Ward
at St. Mungo’s as soon as the war ended, some two weeks later. That was when I made my final career
choice. I decided to become a psychologist in order to be closer to Ron. Turned out to be something
I was good at, something I excelled at and something that I really and truly did enjoy. I know it
may be rather strange to find a ‘crazy doctor’, as Fred and George playfully call it, in the
wizarding world, but it’s a respected job that I happen to be damn good at. My final study on Ron
allowed me the honour of graduating the top of my class at the age 22. Not bad, eh? I would love to
explain more, but that would take even longer. If you wish, I can tell you about my years of
training with Professor Upland some other time. Right now is just not suitable enough for me. What
I will tell you though is that because of my accomplishment, I was able to get the pick of the
litter in terms of patients, which gets me to my most recent and perhaps most challenging patient.
Drum roll please…it’s the one…the only…

Draco Malfoy.

**A/N**- Thanks for reading! Thank you to Angel. Please review if you see fit to do so.



2. Psychological Analysis
-------------------------

**A/N**- WARNING! Major HBP spoilers! If you have not read HBP (or at least haven't
gotten to the end of chapter 27) then please wait before reading this chapter. Some aspects I have
changed to make sense with my story. For example, I wrote the first chapter before HBP came out, so
obviously I had to change things about Draco's sixth year, but as the story continues,
everything become HBP consistent.


Chapter 2- Psychological Analysis

Ginny woke up that morning to discover that yet again she had fallen asleep at her office at St.
Mungo’s.

“Crap,” she muttered under her breath when she saw the pile of paperwork and files on her desk, all
pertaining to one patient. In fact, she had an entire file cabinet devoted to that damn patient of
hers. He was interesting to study though, Ginny would give him that. *I never thought that anyone
would be more challenging than Ron, but then again, I could be wrong*, Ginny thought as she
looked for that accursed folder; the folder that started it all.

“A-ha!” she shouted when she found the slightly bulging folder.

She glanced at the name on the file and still couldn’t believe it was actually him. It was only a
year and she still couldn’t figure him out. It was annoying as all hell too. But what Ginny found
sad about it was that he knew it as well.

“Fucking Draco Malfoy. I just *had* to listen to Professor Upland! ‘Oh it’ll be a great
challenge for someone of your brilliance!’ Hmph. Yeah, he’s a ‘challenge’ alright. Let’s see you
try to get any information out of that man. He was damn lucky that request his mother made was
approved by the Ministry.”

It wasn’t that Ginny didn’t mind studying him because he DID in fact have a rather fascinating
mind, but he was just too damn annoying for his own good.

She opened the folder to see his Azkaban mug shot glaring back at her with the fierceness that the
real Draco Malfoy showed her each day. His psychological analysis was partially hand-written in
Ginny’s now messy handwriting and was only a quarter done. She knew it would take years to unravel
the enigma that was his mind, but she would never give up on a patient, even someone like Malfoy.
She unclipped the photo and placed it on the other side with her left hand and grabbed his file
parchment with the right.

It was going to be another long day.

* * * * * * * * * *

Psychological Analysis

Name: Draco Thomas Malfoy
Date of Birth: 5 June 1980
Sex: Male
Age: 24
Height: 6’ 3”
Weight: 165 lbs.
Birthplace: Malfoy Manor, just outside of Wiltshire in South-western England
Ancestry: Pureblood

General Family History
Father: Lucius Gabriel Malfoy
Date of Birth: 16 November 1954
Age: 50
Status: Deceased

Mother: Narcissa Eleanor Black Malfoy
Date of Birth: 10 January 1963
Age: 41
Status: Alive; has yet to remarry

Other Living Relatives
*The Tonks Family*
Andromeda (Black) Tonks (aunt)
Ted Tonks (uncle)
Nymphadora Tonks (cousin)

*The Lestrange Family*
Bellatrix (Black) Lestrange (aunt)
Rodolphus Lestrange (uncle)

*The Weasley Family*
Molly (Prewett) Weasley

Illnesses/Conditions: large concentration of Dark magic, family history of insanity

Other Personal Information
Incapacities: None that are known of.
Criminal History: Association with Voldemort and the Death Eaters, performing the Cruciatus Curse
on Ronald Weasley, responsible for the deaths of Lucius Malfoy, Percival Weasley, Angelina Johnson
and Cho Chang
Wand: 13” Willow with Unicorn hair

Notes
- has a tendency to speak in the third person
- favourite among female (and some male) Healers
- uses charm to seduce Healers (note to self: try to prevent this at all costs!)
- killed father on orders from Voldemort
- attempted to kill Albus Dumbledore at 16
- youngest person to receive the Dark Mark at 16
- extreme mental inhibitions (does not like to talk about the past, uses Occulmency to block out
others)
- refuses to comply with even the simplest requests
- has had ten other psychologists in the past two years; all had left the position with mysterious
conditions or afflictions
- originally slated for the Dementor’s Kiss until mother, Narcissa Black-Malfoy, pleaded insanity
for her son
- relocated to the Mental Ward at St. Mungo’s three months ago…

* * * * * * * * * *

Ginny didn’t need to look over the rest of his file. It was too extensive for her liking. Besides,
she knew Draco like a brother. An evil and highly disliked brother, but like a brother
nonetheless.

Today was one of her visits. She usually did them about every other day during the working week,
leaving the remaining days (and if needed, the weekend) to study her other numerous patients. It
bothered her to have to spend most of her time hearing Draco babble on about useless nonsense. Then
again, Narcissa was paying Ginny extremely well, allowing her to live quite comfortably in a
spacious flat in London. *Thank the Gods for women like Narcissa Black*, Ginny thought with a
grin. After Lucius died in the war, Ginny learned (from Draco of course), that his mother
immediately got rid of her taken last name and started using her maiden name, denouncing her
husband as a lunatic in the process. Ginny remembered that this was around the time when she first
got Draco as a patient. She thought that he would care about his mother’s actions, but he was so
far gone that he barely even registered it. Ginny found that visit to be very unsettling. It wasn’t
until she got Draco to talk about it that she learned that he was the one who killed his
father.

She walked down the halls of St. Mungo’s in her black pinstripe pantsuit and red dress shirt. Ginny
hated to wear just black and white. Black was fine by her, but white was just too boring for her;
she liked colour in her life. Her black stilettos clicked on the white linoleum floor as she held
the handle of her briefcase in her teeth, freeing her hands to fix her hair into a very chic but
business-like chignon. Once she secured her hair in place, she took the briefcase out of her mouth,
pulled out her wand and cleaned the handle with a quick spell. She deftly placed her wand inside
her jacket and stepped over the threshold into the Criminal Ward at St. Mungo’s. She took a deep
breath as she walked forward, allowing the door to swing shut behind her.

She went through the usual procedure visiting Draco entailed. That meant testing her wand for
suspicious curses, a search of her person for contraband and of course testing and checking her
briefcase for some more spells and/or contraband. When Ginny first started her visits, she was
annoyed at the lunacy of testing her. The Aurors claimed it was protocol, but it still annoyed her.
As the weeks passed, Ginny just ignored the procedure and tried to focus on the task at hand.

She made her way through the corridor, ignoring the stares and cries for help. Luckily, Draco was
the only one in the criminal ward that she knew. Ginny walked straight to the back; Draco’s cell
was at the very end of the corridor. Every time Ginny got closer to his cell, she always seemed to
become a bit scared or cautious. His cell was completely different to that of the other patients.
The Aurors and Healers in the ward called him the ‘Special One’ as a little joke.

“Oh, yeah, he’s special alright,” Ginny mumbled underneath her breath.

As she got closer to the cell, she paused. It occurred to her how different Draco’s cell truly was.
While most patients either had bars with wards on them or the padded room with a slit called a
window in the door, Draco’s was completely different. One wall was completely made of glass; an
easier way for the Aurors to keep an eye on him. The rest of the walls were padded so he wouldn’t
dream of doing anything stupid and every wall had at least seven wards on them. Even his robes were
different. While most were decked out in white robes with a straight jacket underneath, he got to
wear dark green robes with no straight jacket what-so-ever! Ginny personally felt that this was yet
again all of Narcissa’s doing, but Draco never hinted as such.

Ginny gathered her breath once again and strode over to Draco’s cell.

She patiently waited for the wards to be taken down when she spotted Draco. Normally when she saw
him, he just sat on his bed fiddling with his nails or laying back waiting for Ginny to enter. Her
breath caught in her throat when she realized what he was doing. Instead of sitting down, he walked
over to the glass wall, walking along with Ginny, smiling all the while. *Strange*, she
thought. *He never smiles, never. I believe it’s physically impossible.* Then she took a few
deep breaths, willing herself to believe that her all-nighter was making her feel a bit
disillusioned. Once she calmed down, she thanked the guard on duty and entered the cell. She wanted
to regret it immediately.

Draco met her at the door, shouting out “Ginevra!” while enveloping her in a big hug. She looked
behind her hoping that the door was still open. Her gaze was met with a closed door and a
sniggering guard. She quickly patted Draco on the back and pulled away.

“Umm…nice to see you too, Draco. So how have been for the past few weeks? Did you have a good
Christmas?” Ginny asked, conjuring up a red velvet cushioned chair in the process.

Draco settled down on his bed before answering. “Oh well, it was ok I guess.”

Ginny went through their normal friendly formalities with a slight child-like air. She already
picked up that he wanted to act like an eight-year old today. If he decided to act like one, then
she’d have to think like one.

“What do you mean ‘ok’? You didn’t enjoy yourself at the hospital?” Ginny asked.

“No, I did enjoy myself. The Healers even brought in some entertainment and Mother *did*
visit, but it was just…I don’t know…weird to not be at the Manor. Ginny, why didn’t you visit
me?”

Ginny didn’t know what to say. He never behaved like this in the year that she studied him. Sure he
could be a pain, just like today was proving, but he never called her by her real name or “Ginny”.
It was always “Weasley” and he NEVER displayed any emotion short of loathing whenever she came in.
Ginny didn’t know if she liked this new development very much.

“Draco, you know that I would have visited you, but I was with my family.”

“Oh, I understand. Too busy socialising with your family and *Potter* to visit your favourite
patient,” Draco replied with a sneer, putting a spitting emphasis on Harry’s last name.

Ginny almost did a little jump for joy when he went back to his normal snarky self. This was
familiar territory. She could deal with this Draco, not eight-year-old-pain-in-the-ass-spoiled-brat
Draco. “Oh gods, Draco, not that again! You know that I haven’t gone out with Harry for over a
year! And besides, I’m here to talk about you, not about my love or social life.”

“Fine then. So, *Dr. Weasley*, what’s on today’s scheduled session?” he replied with some more
emphasis only this time on ‘Dr. Weasley’.

“Well…let’s see…” Ginny trailed off, taking his file out of her briefcase. “Hmm…we already
discussed your childhood, what about your years at Hogwarts?”

“Oh please, Weasley. That’s just a waste of a question and a waste of our hour long session if you
ask me.”

“Draco, who’s the doctor here?”

“You are.”

“And what is my job?”

“To discuss your personal life with me?”

“Nice try, but no. Please, Draco, don’t be stubborn and answer my questions.”

“Alright, as you wish. What’s the first question?”

“How about we start off with some of the more obvious questions?”

“Whatever, Weasley. Just get on with it already.”

“Fine. How did your years at Hogwarts make you feel?”

“Horrible.”

“Really? How so?”

Draco snorted at this. “What kind of question is that? You were there, you should know.”

“Draco, I know, but it just helps me to better understand what’s going on inside your mind.”

“Ok. I’ll bite. It was horrible in many ways. It was horrid from the moment I met Potter. It was
miserable the moment he didn’t shake my hand first year. In that one inconsequential moment, I had
unwittingly decided the fate of my seven years at Hogwarts. The thing is, Weasley, that I really
and truly wanted to befriend Potter and the fact that he didn’t accept my friendship irked me in
more ways than one. I guess that’s why I focused all of my hatred and personal anguish towards what
you so lovingly called the ‘Dream Team’. It may seem childish and pathetic now, but at the time, it
seemed like the right thing to do.”

He paused here, watching Ginny scribble down some notes on a roll of parchment.

“After my first year, things just got worse for me. In my second year, nothing pleased me more than
seeing you involved with the Dark Lord’s old diary. When my father informed me of his work, I
wanted to hop around with a mad sense of joy. I thought it was a just punishment for speaking out
against me. Nothing else eventful happened in years three through five. Then year six came along.
My sixth year was the year that I could prove my use to the Dark Lord. Everything was perfect. I
had every detail of the plan taken care of. Potter followed me,” Ginny gasped here. “Oh don’t look
so surprised. I knew but do you think he had any concrete evidence against me? No? I thought so.
Plus, he was too preoccupied with trying to make googly eyes with you while you were off snogging
Dean Thomas. Anyways, Potter followed me, but that wasn’t too much of a big deal. All I had to do
was kill that old fool Dumbledore and my sixth year would have been perfect. It would have been,
but at my big moment, I got scared and I ran off like a dog with its tail between its hind legs. I
was in a deep depression for weeks. I was irritable, insufferable; an overall bastard. Isn’t it
funny?” Draco paused again, flashing Ginny a shark-like smile. “So much shit happened in my life
and all before I was 16.”

Draco left his tome at that, patiently waiting for Ginny to say something profound or thoughtful.
She didn’t say anything right away, writing down notes instead. After about five minutes, she
looked up and spoke.

“Well, Draco, thank you for that lovely statement, but you didn’t answer my question,” Ginny said
with a slight smile.

“What? I just poured my heart out with mediocre thoughts about a school I abhor and all I get is
‘Sorry Malfoy, but that wasn’t what I was looking for’.”

Ginny had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing. Once she composed herself, she proceeded to
speak.

“Truthfully, you started to answer it, but then you kind of digressed from the point. Here, let me
ask you again. In what ways were your years at Hogwarts horrible?”

Draco was silent for about ten minutes, trying to figure out what he wanted to say. Finally, he
spoke.

“I’m sorry, Weasley, but I can’t answer that question.”


**A/N**- Thanks for reading! Thanks to Angel my awesome beta! Wow. This one was a doosy! We
learned a lot about Draco's background. Just to let you all know, I did check his background on
various HP fansites (like HP Lexicon) as well as his family tree, which coincides with the Black
family tree. If you find anything at fault, check first, then let me know so I can make the
appropriate changes. Other things I made up (his wand, his middle name, Narcissa and Lucius's
birthdays and middle names -I gave Narcissa my birthday. hehe.-, who he killed, etc.).




3. Be Mindful Of Your Obligations
---------------------------------

**A/N**- Just a short warning: Ginny makes a reference to events in Ch. 2 of HBP. If
you've gotten past ch. 2, you're ok. What Ginny mentions isn't extremely shocking, but
depending on what type of person you are, it might shock/ruin everything for you.


Chapter 3- Be Mindful of Your Obligations

10 January 2004

Thank the gods for Alise Martin. That girl is bloody brilliant. If it weren’t for her, I’d be
beating the living shite out of my most valuable patient right about now. I know it’s wrong to be
thinking about that, but he was just grating on my last nerve. You see, after Draco started to
refuse answering my questions, my patience started to wear thin. I mean it wasn’t like they were
extraordinarily hard questions to answer; they were quite the opposite in fact. Our session was
nearing its end and I had just about had enough of Malfoy’s childish insolence. It was at that
point that I saw Alise walking by, her latest session with her patient was over.

I didn’t see her right away, only after I clutched onto my armchair for dear life did I see her out
of the corner of my eye. She whispered something to the guard on duty who silently nodded and
proceeded to open my cell. She rushed in like a hell-bent banshee, screaming my name at the top of
her lungs as I lunged for Draco.

Now before I continue with how Alise apprehended me, I must describe Draco’s look. Upon reflection
(meaning as I write this), I’ve come to realise how humorous it was. You see when I went to lunge,
he was sitting near the edge of his bed with one of his trademark smirks. By that time, a year’s
worth (actually it’s more like 13 years’ worth now that I think about it) of annoyance had built up
inside me and his last comment was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I tried to control
myself, but obviously having a death grip on the chair and counting to ten didn’t help much. I
lunged towards him, watching him squeal in horror, his eyes going as wide as dinner plates as he
tried to crawl backwards on his bed. As to his look, well it was a bit like a cross between a deer
caught in the headlights and someone who just smelled something rather nasty. Seeing that look on
Malfoy made up for Alise scolding me. It was so unlike him. Now that I’ve thoroughly discussed
Malfoy’s reaction, I shall commence with Alise’s reaction.

Like I was saying before I was side-tracked, Alise ran in screaming my name at the top of her
lungs, making me stop about 5 inches away from Draco. I turned my head to give Alise one of my
fiercest glares; I was pissed off at her audacity, no matter how thankful I am for it now. My glare
didn’t do anything to deter her goal. She marched over to where I was standing and muttered a quick
apology to Draco before grabbing my ear and dragging me out of his cell, snatching up my briefcase
in the process. She let go of me as soon as we were out of the cell, remaining silent as we made
our way to my office. As I shut the door to the office behind me, she began her rant.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley!” I thought I was the only one who sounded eerily like my mother when
yelling! Alise must have a mother like mine I presume. “Do you have any idea what you could have
done?!”

“Alise, I-”

“No Ginny! Narcissa Malfoy would have drawn and quartered you and *then* fire you if you had
beaten the living shit out of her son! Your reputation would be ruined and you’d be a bum on the
streets of London if I hadn’t stopped you. Gin, I know that you have a bit of a temper, but you
must learn how to show at least a modicum of self-control.”

She stopped here, taking a few deep breaths in the process. I wanted to make some snarky
Malfoy-esque comment, but that would only piss her off even more and a pissed off Alise was not an
Alise that I wanted to deal with at the time.

In case you’re wondering and I know you are, Alise is not at all British; she’s American. She’s
also my best friend and was my roommate during college. She’s Asian as well (although she doesn’t
have one of your typical Asian names, but that’s what I like about her!), with jet black hair and
bright hazel eyes. She’s only a few inches shorter than me, but being the same height as my mother
can have its advantages when you’ve angered her. She has a fashion sense that I envy, but she’s
teaching me in her fashionable ways. I told her once when we first met that I thought she should be
a clothing designer, but she only smiled one of her smiles and said that psychology called her
instead. Alise Martin is one of those people you can’t help but love, even if she does publicly
humiliate me from time to time (she claims it’s for my own good, but I’ve gotten payback already,
trust me). We found it strangely convenient that we both work at the same place now. Great! I got
side-tracked again! I had to give you a proper description of Alise though! I must stop this and
remain focused on what I was writing before. Ah, yes. Now I remember.

As I was saying, Alise and I stood in a somewhat awkward silence as she calmed down and as I tried
to figure out what to say. We were silent for about five minutes when I opened my mouth.

“Are you done yet?” There I go again with my Malfoy influenced snarky comments.

“Yes ma’am. But I’m serious Ginny, you need to get over whatever animosity is going on between you
and Draco. Or at least subdue it.”

“I would if it weren’t for my history with said git of a patient.”

“But Gin-” I cut off Alise before she could finish. I know kind of rude, but I wasn’t thinking all
too clearly at the time.

“Nope. Let’s forget all about it for now. How was your session with Bella?”

“It could have gone better,” Alise said as she sat in one of my visitor chairs.

“Speaking in nonsense again?” I asked, leaning against my desk.

“Yeah. She does have her moments of sanity every now and again, but I only see her about once or
twice every two months. She mentions Draco you know.”

“I’m sure she does. He mentions Bellatrix too. She was always his favourite aunt since Andromeda
was disowned and he barely knew his father’s sister, Sophia. She doted on him when she wasn’t off
nearly getting herself killed. She was like a second mother to him and although she was against it,
agreed to perform the Bonding spell for the Unbreakable Vow for his mother and Snape.”

“Gotcha. So you want to go out for lunch?”

“Yeah, I’m starved.”

I know, I know. We ended that rather quickly, but we have this little policy between us. It’s a
silent policy, but a policy all the same. It basically states that we won’t talk about our patients
unless necessary. I know that I asked Alise about her session with Bella, and mind you I shouldn’t
have, but I was running out of things to say.

Just to let you know, I’m going to skip the pre-lunch small talk and cut straight to our lunch to
make life easier for me and because it holds more significance.

Anyways, we get to this café about three blocks away from St. Mungo’s (as I’m sure you know
hospital food, both Muggle and wizard, is rather gross). As the waitress took our drink order, I
pulled out my planner from my briefcase (it has relevance or else I would not be writing about it!
Sheesh!) and took a glance at it before deciding on my meal. My posture dropped about three inches
as I read the proclamation for the day.

“Christ,” I mutter, as it was something that I did not like.

“What’s wrong this time Gin?”

“Alise, you do know what day this is, right?”

“Yeah, Ginny. It’s the tenth of Jan…u…ar…oh shit.”

“Yep,” was my rather dull reply. I forgot to mention that it’s something that Alise and I are
almost obligated to do.

“That means that…”

“Yep.”

“Do we have to?”

“Yep.”

“Could you stop saying ‘yep’!? I’ll end up alongside Bellatrix if you keep that up!”

“Sorry,” I grinned out rather sheepishly.

“Did you already write your letter?”

“No. I completely forgot until I saw it on my calendar. Draco didn’t even mention it.”

“Well you know Draco’s not exactly the rational one right now is he?” Alise hissed.

“Calm down Alise, we’ll just send out Narcissa’s birthday letters when we get back to the office.
You know that we never write out anything extravagant on any of our cards or letters; just enough
to let her know how Draco or Bella are doing and wish her a happy birthday. It’s a slight bore, but
it’s the least we could do for the woman who has us financially set for life.”

Alise mulled over this for a few seconds before replying with “True.”

“For now, let’s just enjoy our nice, hospital food-free lunch. Ok?”

“Sure, why not.”

Also for your information, I’m skipping past the eating of our meals since it holds no relevance to
this entry whatsoever. I’m going to jump ahead to when we get back.

We arrived back at the hospital about an hour and a half later. We parted ways, walking back to our
separate offices alone. I unlocked the door and found a letter placed among the clutter. Now why
would I notice one singular letter among my mounds of paperwork? Well the envelope was green and
lemme tell you, it’s not everyday that one gets a green encased letter. I walked over to my desk,
placing my briefcase in one of the chairs, reaching out to grab the letter with my left hand.

I turned over the envelope, trying to figure out who it was from. It was obviously from someone
important; the paper seemed heavier and more luxurious. I tore open the flap and pulled out the
equally heavy and luxurious white paper from within. I scanned over the paper and realized it was
an invitation.

At the time I was thinking ‘Who the hell do I know that can afford this?’ Then it hit me as I
looked at the invitation; I swear I need to be more observant. Anywho, the invitation went
something like this:

*Miss Ginevra Weasley,*
*
You are cordially invited to join us at Malfoy Manor for Narcissa Malfoy’s 42nd birthday
party.
Please be at the Manor by 8 o’ clock on Saturday, 15 January 2004.
There will be dinner followed by a gala reception in the ballroom. The attire is formal robes
only.
R.S.V.P. by Thursday, 13 January 2004 to either Pansy Parkinson or Saphira Zabini.*


You can just imagine my shock can’t you? I was only in my office for about five minutes before I
heard a knock on the door followed by a voice.

“Ginny! It’s me, Alise! Open up will you?”

“Come in! The door’s open!”

She walked over to my side, waving an identical invitation in front of my face.

“Did you get one of these things too?”

“Yes ma’am. So are you going or not?”

“Ehh…I don’t know. I don’t have a date.”

“Well, you have four days to get one.”

“Ha! Like that’ll ever happen,” Alise said, rolling her eyes.

“Ok. How about this, if you can’t find a date by Friday, then we can go together.”

“Ok! I can get ready at your flat, too. I’m sure that we’d be able to find suitable examples of the
male species at the party, I hope.”

“I know you will, myself on the other hand, plan to stay blissfully single for as long as
possible.”

It probably seems rather odd to you that I actually want to stay single, right? After a slew of
long-term relationships over the past two years, I decided to give up on dating for a while. So
far, I’ve liked it. No, I’m not a cynic when it comes to love; I just enjoy my freedom every now
and again.

Alise’s opinion on the subject matter at hand differs greatly from mine though.

“You can’t possibly be serious Gin!” Told you so…Sorry. “You’re 23! Don’t you want to find a guy
now and not when you’re about to hit 30? I know I do.”

“Alise, I want to find a guy, but I have seven more years before 30, so do you. Plus, after being
in three very serious relationships over the past two years, I just want to take a little, ok maybe
not so little, hiatus from the dating scene. Even if that means ignoring the perfectly reasonable
pick-up lines from various guys.”

“I still think you’re crazy, but whatever, your loss.”

I bit my tongue this time and rolled my eyes instead of making a snarky comment. I know! I’m proud
of myself too!

With her last word in, Alise left the office leaving me to write out a reply to Pansy and Saphira’s
invitation and Naricssa’s birthday letter. An accomplishment in itself, let me tell you. I only got
Draco as a patient last year (the same applies to Alise and Bellatrix), but on every major holiday
and our birthdays, we started getting cards and gifts from Narcissa. After we received a letter
from her, we’d quickly respond so as not to seem rude.

Well, the letter was like I said, a task in itself, but I did it and sent it off after a quick
read-over. The invitation reply followed suit in a quicker fashion.

-yawns- I think that’s about it for today. I’m getting rather tired and it’s quite late. I best be
off to bed since I plan on making up for my lack of sleep during Sunday’s all-nighter.
G’night!


**A/N**- Thanks to my beta, Angel. She rocks on many levels. I made up the name of Lucius'
sister, Sophia. If he is an only child, I'm terribly sorry, but for my story, she's going
to play a rather important role. So just for now, Lucius has a sister. Alise is the name of my best
friend. I like her name, so I decided to pay homage to her here since she encourages me to continue
this story. Oh and Saphira Zabini is Blaise's mom. They really don't give her a name,
although she is briefly mentioned in HBP. I thought she would have an interesting name like Blaise,
so I found it in a book.




4. No One Mourns the Wicked
---------------------------

**A/N**- This is one of the major death scenes. Not too much blood, but where someone gets
shot might make you queasy. You have been warned.


Chapter 4- No One Mourns the Wicked

I had an order.

That’s how it started, as an order like any other one.

At first I didn’t want to do it. As I’m sure you could imagine my shock upon first receiving the
order.

He had told me it was to make up for my first major failure under him. I readily agreed; I would do
anything to make it up to him.

When he told me I had to kill someone, I thought ‘Oh, no big deal; I already killed that Chang
girl. How hard could it be?’

How hard was it you ask? Ha. I’d like to see your reaction when Voldemort tells you the only way to
get back into his good graces is to kill your own father.

My initial reaction was ‘How the fuck am I going to go home without plotting his death every waking
moment?’ That was the reaction that was broadcasting itself in my brain. The one that I spoke to
the finally embodied Voldemort was ‘Yes, my Lord.’

You probably think I’m crazy, but what else could I say? ‘I’m sorry Voldemort, but I think you’ve
finally gone off the deep end’ or ‘There isn’t enough power in the entire world that would make me
kill my father’? I knew he lost it if he was willing to kill off my father.

To you, it’s most likely something good. I mean, after all of the shit my father did, basically
screwing over the Ministry and such, the wizarding world could benefit from the death of Lucius
Malfoy. And I’m sure now we have, but let’s assess the facts, shall we?

To start off with, not only was he the most influential man in the wizarding world, besides
Dumbledore and maybe Potter, he was Voldemort’s lap dog so to speak.

He was the top Death Eater and the leader of the ‘Death Eater inner circle’. An elite group of
members in their hierarchy consisting of my father, Aunt Bella, Nott, Parkinson, and that louse
Pettigrew.

Technically, Pettigrew was like Voldemort’s lap dog, always at the ‘Entity’s’ beck and call to do
whatever tickled his fancy on that particular day, but if Voldemort said ‘Jump’, my father would
reply with ‘How high?’ In a sense, my father did resemble Pettigrew; he was that desperate to gain
power, at any cost.

In terms of power over the wizarding world, Lucius could floo up Fudge, make some asinine request
like wanting chocolate mousse because the house-elves couldn’t make it to save their lives, and at
least five minutes later, Fudge’d show up wielding a mean glass of chocolate mousse. Well, I’m sure
that my father wouldn’t floo Fudge for some mousse since I’m the one with the sweet tooth, but you
get the idea. I always felt that they should just get rid of Fudge and elect my father Minister of
Magic; he had the entire Ministry twirled around his perfectly manicured pinkie.

Enough about that though, I’m sure that you already knew about my father’s power, right? I thought
so. Getting back to what I was saying before I went off into that tangent, I hadn’t a clue as to
the motives behind killing off my father. Or why Voldemort chose me to do it instead of Pettigrew
or Parkinson. I always found it rather queer. Many who later saw me commit the murder supposed it
was to make an example out of my father. By killing him, it showed that even someone who is
perceived to be the most valuable one of all is in the end expendable. Bullshit. That’s right,
bull-shit. Voldemort knew just how fucking valuable my father was to the cause. If he wanted to
make an example, he would have used Crabbe or Goyle; those neanderthals were more than expendable.
You know, even to this day I have yet to figure out why my father was chosen to die.

It still haunts me. How I killed my father that is. I had spent weeks carefully planning; waiting
for the right time.

I had considered many ways in which I could kill Lucius. One involved poison, but that seemed too
cowardice. Another involved using ‘Avada Kedavra’, but that one was a tad too humane for my liking
and I am a bit of a sadist. I went through countless others as well. Every time I found a method
that I could deem perfect though, it always had a small flaw within its trappings.

One thing was for sure: I wanted my father to see me when I killed him; to let him know that I was
brave enough to complete the task bestowed upon me.

In the end, I decided to kill him at a Death Eater meeting, allowing Voldemort to see me commit
that abominable crime himself…

-End of Summer 1998-

*“Draco, are you ready? The Dark Lord is expecting us soon and you know how he gets when we’re
late.”

“Yes Father. Mother is informed of our outing tonight. She sends you her love and says good-bye as
well.”

“Oh, how thoughtful of her,” Lucius spoke with a slight hint of boredom. “Come now, boy, I should
hate to imagine what it would be like if I had to call you for a third time.”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry for keeping you and the Dark Lord waiting.”

“Enough of your childish apologies. I shall be waiting for you.” With a loud ‘pop!’ Lucius
Apparated, leaving Draco in his father’s study, going over the plan in his mind.

He had pre-arranged everything from the beginning. Even his own father, a very observant man at
that, hadn’t noticed the small signs: Draco’s skittishness, his mysterious disappearances and even
Narcissa’s sudden happiness.

Draco couldn’t help telling his mother what Voldemort requested of him. She was his support system
and if she didn’t support this, then he would emotionally shatter in the process. Naricssa had
helped him every step of the way, from choosing the right day, to getting the murder weapon Draco
was currently fiddling with.

He fingered the small 35 mm pistol in his pant’s pocket. He took it out and examined it once more,
running his hand over the silver metal, reminding him of the molten gunshot metal eyes that he
shared with his father. He locked the shotgun, ensuring that it wouldn’t go off in his pocket and
placed it back in its silk-lined home.

Not five seconds later, Draco disappeared with a ‘crack!’ transporting him to his father’s
impending doom.

Before he knew it, he was in Parkinson Manor, the home that tonight’s meeting was to be held in. He
took a quick glance around to find his father. Draco caught a bit of the white-blond hair that
could only be Lucius’ from behind the black hood and mask of one of the many figures. He wasn’t
curious as to whom the rest of tonight’s participants were though; he already knew who would be
there.

Draco proceeded to veil his face with mask and hood, but stopped short. Voldemort had told him he
had to be spotted easily among his followers. Draco remembered this just in time too; it seemed
that the Dark Lord was making his way into the low lit living space.

Strangely enough, it was at this time that Draco noticed how different Voldemort truly looked. He
was a slight mixture of his former 16-year old self and what he looked like during Draco’s fourth
year. His face still had the high, chiseled cheekbones that Draco himself possessed and the jet
black hair that almost looked blue when looked at from a certain angle, but it wasn’t coiffed; more
like a long, shaggy mess. Yet, he no longer had those protruding obsidian eyes; they glowed red or
yellow now. His skin had no trace of colour whatsoever. It was that of a pure snow white, making
his eyes and hair stand out more. Draco thought that he might actually be rather handsome if it
weren’t for the ghostly or demonic vibe he got from him.

Just like Voldemort had planned for, Draco was spotted easily among the rankings and summoned
forward to speak with the Dark Lord.

Face to face, they proceeded to speak in hushed tones. Although Draco knew who would be at the
meeting, no other Death Eater knew of this plan.

“Is everything prepared?” Voldemort asked with a slight hiss.

“Yes, my Lord.” Draco briefly flashed Voldemort the weapon in his pocket in response as well.

“Ahh, yes. I forgot you were using a Muggle device. I am anxious to see how it will be put to good
use, young Draco,” Voldemort stated in smug satisfaction.

“You will soon enough, my Lord.”

“Excellent. Then let us not waste any more time. You know what you need to do.” Voldemort dismissed
Draco with a slight wave of the hand as Draco began the search for his father.

The Dark Lord prepared to call the room to attention, requesting that Lucius and Draco step forward
from the rest of the pack without their masks or hoods.

Lucius immediately sank to his knees in front of the Dark Lord, like a worshipper at an altar.
Draco silently bowed and searched Voldemort’s face for any signs of commencement. The Dark Lord
gave him a slightly feral smirk; his sign. No sooner than Draco saw that, he brought his right
elbow down on Lucius’ skull; a weak Lucius was easier to kill in Draco’s mind.

Lucius looked up, stunned, into his son’s face. As he got up, Draco gave him a blow to the stomach
followed by a sharp hook to the nose. Draco thought he heard cracking, but continued his blows
relentlessly. After a good ten minutes, he had gotten Lucius to the ground, a look of panic and a
slight fear present in the elder man’s eyes. It was at that time that Draco pulled out the pistol,
noting the growing fear in his father’s eyes.

Draco unlocked the pistol and took out a white monogrammed handkerchief out of his pant’s pocket,
bending down in the process. When things couldn’t get any weirder for him, Draco began talking to
his father, cleaning his face all the while.

“Do you find me sadistic? You know, Father, I’d like to believe that you’re aware enough even now
to know that there’s nothing sadistic in my actions. I’ve had this whole little situation planned
out for a while now, too. Even Mother helped me. She was the one that got me this lovely pistol
that you’re so desperately staring at.” Draco flashed him a brilliant smile. “But don’t think that
I woke up one morning and said ‘I think I might kill my father today’. No, you can give credit for
coming up with this little task to the wizard that you’ve been worshipping for the past, what?
20-25 years? Let’s go with 25.”

He stood up to his full height, satisfied with the cleaning job on his father’s face. He raised the
gun, poised to shoot, but then he paused, saying one last thing to the man that **he**
worshipped.

“No Father, at this moment, this is me at my most masochistic.”

“Draco, I’ve-”

But Draco never got to hear Lucius’ last words since just at that moment, a gunshot rang through
the air, silencing him forever.

Lucius Gabriel Malfoy was dead at age 50. Shot in the head by his 19-year old son.*

I went completely Muggle for this one, even down to where I shot him.

Yeah, I know. I’m a bit of a sick fuck. My thoughts at the time were ‘If I’m going to kill him with
a Muggle weapon, why not do it Muggle every step of the way?’ I had no idea that I would get so
involved.

Where I shot my father though, well, I got the idea from some Muggle religion. Christianity, I
believe. You see, I shot him square in the forehead, know as the ‘brand or mark of Cain.’ Know as
such because God marked Cain after killing his brother Abel. The mark is supposed to be the mark of
a murderer. I told you I was a sick fuck during the planning stages.

In case you’re wondering, we held a funeral. Mum and I only felt it was necessary to make Father’s
death seem as normal and the family as grief-ridden as possible to the press. We told them that he
died of heart failure. We left it to the press to twist it however way they wanted to. He now
resides in the Malfoy family mausoleum on the manor’s grounds.

It was only after Lucius died that my aunt Sophia decided to make another appearance.


**A/N**- Well this was a fun chapter. I know that the set up from chapter to chapter may seem
confusing to some, but they switch from the present to the past. The last chapter will be like this
one, a combo of the past and the present (and a little something extra, but I don't want to
give away the ending). Thanks to Angel.

**References**- Part of Draco's speech to Lucius and his last words to him. They are from
Kill Bill Vol. 1 and they are spoken by Bill. The original lines go as such:
"Do you find me sadistic? You know, I bet I could fry an egg on your head right now, if I
wanted to. You know, Kiddo, I'd like to believe that you're aware enough even now to know
that there's nothing sadistic in my actions. Well, maybe towards those other... jokers, but not
you. No Kiddo, at this moment, this is me at my most...masochistic." I didn't use all of
them. Only the ones that seemed to make the most sense with Draco's character and the
situation.

I have my story posted all over the place and I love all of the little guesses everyone makes as to
what happens. I have guesses of Draco's passive agressiveness being something that he needs to
get over in order to love Ginny to the reason why Draco didn't off Ginny in the war was because
he loves her. Nope. All of those are wrong. If you guess what happens at the very end right,
I'll try to let you know secretly...or as secretly as I possibly can. Next chapter: Ginny and
Alise go to Narcissa's birthday party, we meet aunt Sophia, and a major plot point! It's 23
pages written so far, so it should be rather long. It's gonna be a good one. :)





5. Bella Luna
-------------

**A/N**-Never fear my dearies, 'A Study of the Mind' is back! hehe. An explaination
to all of the hold-ups at the end.


Chapter 5- Bella Luna (Part 1 of 2 of Narcissa's Birthday Gala)

She was scrambling. Boy was she scrambling. Her normal anal retentive self was left to the wind
throughout the week.

The remaining five days seemed to mesh together in a blur, all leading up to Saturday. Trips to
Diagon Alley were made, along with visits to Muggle London, especially some store that Ginny
couldn’t pronounce or heard of previously, but Alise called it ‘Louis Vuitton’. Ginny and Alise
ended up walking out of ‘Louis Vuitton’ with a leather handbag each.

As the week progressed, Alise gave up hope on trying to find a date and decided to get ready with
Ginny. A plan was formulated involving Alise spending Friday night at Ginny’s flat, while on
Saturday, they’d spent the entire day getting ready at their own leisure. An ensemble was also
picked out for both women. There came a point during one of their outings to Madame Malkin’s where
they almost ended up buying the same dress robe. Luckily, that was squashed the next day when Ginny
found a dress that made her forget the infamous dress and the incident that followed it. As a
result of Ginny’s sudden change in robe preference, Alise snagged up the coveted dress when her
friend wasn’t looking.

At long last, Friday was over and Saturday came on swift wings, bringing with it Narcissa’s
birthday party. It was then that Ginny lost it.

A crash was heard from the kitchen causing Alise to run at mock speed towards the source, an
eyelash curler partially blinding her as well. As she skidded to a stop in front of the swinging
kitchen door, she attempted to catch her breath to no avail. A small whimper or sob could be heard,
but Alise couldn’t put her now blood red nails on which. She carefully opened the door so as not to
ruin her nails and took a peek inside. Slumped against the refrigerator was a rumpled looking Ginny
Weasley staring quite morosely at a shattered vase, its multi-coloured stemmed contents splayed
across the wood-panelled floor.

"Ginny, what in God’s name just happened?"

Alise was met with an unwelcome silence, so she bent down, staring her friend straight in the
eye.

"Ginny, you’ve got to tell me what happened so I know how to help fix it."

A choked sob was Ginny’s response along with a mumbled "You wouldn’t understand."

"I wouldn’t understand what? That in a sudden fit of rage you decided to throw your flower
vase to the floor in self-pity while scaring the bejesus out of your best friend? No, I think I
understood that."

Ginny looked up into her friend’s eyes before getting up.

"You sound like Draco when you do that."

"Really?" Alise asked with a slight twinkle in her eye. "Well, if it’ll get you out
of your occasional bouts of self-pity, then I must ‘sound like Draco’ more often."

"How much longer until the party?"

"We still have a good four hours."

"Then why are you putting on eye makeup now?"

"Ginny, Ginny, Ginny. I’m experimenting. Seeing which look will go better with my dress to you
know, impress any eligible bachelors out there."

There was a good thirty seconds of an awkward silence before Ginny answered.

"That’s got to be the strangest thing I’ve ever heard of."

"Hey, don’t come crying to me when your look doesn’t receive the biggest impact."

"Alise, I’m not trying to outshine Narcissa, unlike you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to
take a nice soak in the tub before getting ready."

As Ginny walked towards her bathroom at the other end of the flat, she could hear Alise yell out
"I’m not trying to outshine Narcissa!" Ginny shook with silent laughter as she walked.
Alise’s makeup at the present time seemed to take on a baroque sense: overblown and grand. To
Ginny, it looked more theatrical than elegant with the long faux eyelashes and bright Chinese red
lips. While it would have been perfect if Alise was walking down a haute couture runway, it was not
the appropriate makeup for a birthday party. Ginny hoped her comment would make Alise tone down her
outlandish makeup.

Ginny entered her bathroom and turned on the taps in her grandiose Roman-style tub. Sifting through
the medicine cabinet, she found a suitable bubble bath and poured a good dosage into the pearly
blue water. She stripped herself of her clothing and tentatively stepped it. Her troubles were
soaked away over the next 2 hours, causing her to shrivel up like a prune in the process.

Realizing that she couldn’t get any cleaner, Ginny stepped out, drying her self off as she exited
the bathroom to go into her adjoining bedroom. Towel still wrapped around her body, Ginny made her
way over to her wardrobe to retrieve her dress.

Her dress was a thing of beauty it was. The moment she saw it, she knew it was meant to be hers. No
one else at the party would have it and just for tonight, she wouldn’t mind standing out. The dress
itself was a halter made of chiffon and silk. It was a pale orange colour with hints of salmon
mixed in. The fabric covered her "assets" perfectly with a neckline low enough so it
teased but didn’t give too much away, ending just below her breasts. Around her waist it wrapped
around with the same fabric, a copper brooch right at the centre with orange, red and gold jewels
embedded into the piece of jewellery. The bottom portion, or skirt, trailed down in the same
orangey chiffon fabric with the salmon coloured silk underneath, ending in a small train behind
her. It was the slightest bit flouncy, but it made Ginny feel girly and surprisingly, the orange
dress didn’t clash with her red hair.

Ginny carefully took the dress out of the wardrobe, examining its beauty. She gingerly placed it on
her bed and went back to retrieve her shoes and handbag. She decided to buy a copper coloured bag
as well as shoes to not only make the dress’ brooch stand out, but to make her hair seem more
"multi-faceted". The shoes were Muggle made by an American company called Chinese
Laundry. The purse, Ginny picked up at one of the lesser known boutiques in Diagon Alley, called
Diagon Outfitters. Considered a rather eclectic shop, the clutch Ginny found there had two huge
gold balls as fasteners, reminding Ginny of the coin purses that old women carry around.

Placing the shoes on the floor and the clutch on the bed, Ginny unwrapped the towel from her body,
took the dress off its hanger and slipped it on. Realizing she forgot one crucial detail, Ginny ran
to her chest of drawers and pulled out a pair of peach silk and lace boy short underwear. Slipping
them on under her dress, she scampered over to her vanity, taking a seat in front of the
mirror.

Scattered on the vanity’s table were items like lipstick, lip gloss, eye shadow, mascara, eye
liner, and powder. Ever since Ginny was hired by Narcissa, she began to grow accustomed to a life
similar to the one that Draco led as a boy. She flat out refused to own a house elf, but
appreciated some of the finer aspects in life, like makeup from Muggle companies such as M.A.C. and
Stila. As a child, Ginny was never one for Glamours when it came to applying makeup. From
experience, she learned it was better to apply one’s makeup by hand.

At the vanity, Ginny began gathering her tools: the various brushes, shades of eye shadow, the
black eyeliner, etc. With an array of choices in front of her, she picked up the foundation and
sponge and got to work.

About and hour and several changes later, Ginny settled on a look that worked for her. Composed of
shades similar to that in her dress, black eye liner and mascara, Ginny’s eye makeup suited her and
with a pale peach lip gloss on instead of lipstick, Ginny was pleased with her decision. Now there
was just one obstacle left: her hair.

She had no friggen clue what to do with it. By the time she finished her makeup, it was almost dry,
its curly self turning into an unruly mass.

A knock was heard on the door. Ginny got up and opened it, revealing Alise in all of her
splendour.

"Aww, Alise, you look splendid! Simply marvellous!"

"Thanks, Gin. I’m telling you, that dress looks amazing on you! Oh and we have an hour
left."

"You must be referring to my lack of a hairdo then? Don’t worry, I’m working on
it."

"Here let me do it," Alise said, reaching out to take Ginny’s hair in her hands.

Ginny backed away immediately. "I don’t know. After your little eye makeup fiasco, I’m not
sure I want to be another one of your 'experiments'."

"Ginny, I will do no such thing to you and you know it! Just trust me."

Another forty-five minutes later, Ginny and Alise emerged from Ginny’s room, Ginny with a hairstyle
befit for a Grecian goddess with its piled up curls and Alise with a slight change to her already
perfect dress. Although Alise came out of the dress incident with a black corset and a-line
cocktail silk sheath, she decided to change it to a deep blue. She and Ginny agreed; it looked
better in blue than in black. She had matching matte blue stilettos and clutch, while her hair was
straightened, done up in a middle pony-tail with her bangs pinned back so it looked slightly
poofed. Her eye liner was black and minimally winged with blue eye shadow for undertones on the top
and bottom lids. Alise, thankfully, was able to pull it off and gosh darn it did she look
amazing.

Both women checked that they had all of their necessary items, including the invitations tucked
neatly into their bags, before Apparating to Malfoy Manor and Narcissa’s birthday gala.

* * * * * * * * *

To say that Narcissa Malfoy’s birthday gala was the biggest wizarding event of the year was an
understatement.

Pansy and Saphira took it upon themselves to make a (what else?) green carpet. As the guests
arrived, each one proceeded to walk down the green carpet, amidst a frenzy of reporters and
paparazzi gathered at the event.

Not used to such things, Ginny and Alise seemed rather meek and out of place. After a few minutes
though, they warmed up to the photographers, even posing for a few pictures.

Eventually, they made their way to the front door, promptly greeted by Pansy (who both women knew
from either the Ministry, or in Ginny’s case, school) and an exotic, but obviously gorgeous woman
who must be none other than Saphira Zabini, Blaise’s mom. After being sent off by Pansy and Saphira
with a peck on the cheek and a hug, Ginny and Alise stepped foot into the overly decorated Malfoy
Manor.

Decked out in green and silver, everything in the Manor was given a larger than life sense.
Narcissa was nowhere to be seen, but Ginny was sure that she was off schmoozing with her guests.
The guests. There had to be at least over 200 people present, not including family, both the Blacks
and the Malfoys. They scoped out the crowd, recognizing a few people here and there, but those were
few and far between. Ginny and Alise felt like complete strangers among the wizarding society’s
elite and were starting to regret their decision to come.

Overcome with an inane need for something to drink, Ginny excused herself from Alise’s death grip
and talked her way to the bar.

* * * * * * * * *

Alise, now alone, was unsure of what to do. Ginny said she’d be right back, but that was some time
ago. She barely knew anyone here and instead of that being a comforting thought that only scared
her more.

She was beginning to lose all hope in Ginny ever coming back and, more importantly, in her
continuing to be a dateless loser, when a very handsome, dark-haired someone emerged out of the
crowd.

He had a cat-like grace to him, with his dark hair and light blue eyes. It was an interesting
combination, but Alise adored it. He didn’t look tan or ghostly white, like many of the men here,
but what seemed like a happy medium. He was wearing black pants and a black dress shirt with a blue
tie that matched the colour of Alise’s dress. Alise knew that she was going to meet at least one
guy tonight, but boy did she just hit the jackpot. As he walked closer, he let out a little smirk
quirk his positively kissable lips. Alise was getting nervous now and she did not want to mess this
moment up. He stopped right in front of her, flashing a dazzling smile before speaking.

"Hello. I’m Blaise Zabini. And you are?"

* * * * * * * * *

"Mother, it is absolutely necessary for me to be here?"

"Antonio, you know it’s your aunt Narcissa’s birthday. We must be here," the woman spoke
with a slight Italian accent, taking a sip of her martini in the process.

"But this is what? The third time I’ve seen her?"

"Stop whining, Antonio. What are you? A twenty-four year old or a six year old?"

"Neither, but you could’ve gone by yourself while I could’ve stayed back in Italy."

"And stay with that harem of women in our Milan flat? I don’t think so."

Antonio cringed at that last statement. He hated it when his mother made allusions to his dating
life.

"Ahh…I see where this is heading. You dragged me all the way to England so I could find some
nice English girl to marry and have hundreds of children with."

"Something along those lines, but the company is an added bonus," the woman replied with
a smirk and another sip of her martini.

"Sophia de Medici, I don’t know whether to be happy to call you my mother or to curse the day
I sprung from your loins," Antonio replied with a kiss on his mother’s cheek. "I’m going
to get another Mai Tai."

"And don’t you dare come back until you find yourself a suitable girl!"

Antonio turned over his shoulder and smiled before continuing onto the bar.

* * * * * * * * *

Antonio socialized his way to the bar.

There were many gorgeous women at his aunt Narcissa’s party, no doubt about that. The trouble was
that many of these types of beauties he could find back home in either Milan or Florence. None of
them stood out, even the part-Veela women. Usually once a Veela woman found you attractive, they
clung on for dear life, but being part-Veela himself, Antonio was thankfully immune.

His mother had told him not to come back until he found a suitable girl and he would do well to
follow his mother’s orders. A Medici or not, she was still a Malfoy by birth. To defy his mother,
especially on something as important to her as this would be like treason. He just needed to find
one girl that his mother would approve of. Being beautiful would be an added bonus, but if he
didn’t love her, which was something he could count on, there was always his "harem of
women" back home.

Antonio wasn’t one to brag (unlike his cousin Draco), but he was what one would call a bloody
Adonis. Although Italian by birth, he received almost the entire Malfoy gene collection. He was
often mistaken for his cousin Draco, but if one looked closely enough, one could tell them apart
easily. For example, while Draco has the silver eyes that most Malfoys have, Antonio inherited the
Medici dark brown eyes. Also, if the eyes didn’t give it away, then the obvious Italian accent
would.

As he got closer to the bar, he saw some more hopeful prospects, even this one Asian-looking chick,
but she seemed to be engrossed in conversation with the self-proclaimed former Hogwarts Boy-Whore,
Blaise Zabini.

*Tis a shame that a woman that beautiful is going to be wasted on him*, Antonio thought with a
shake of his head.

After her though, he didn’t notice anyone else. He carefully approached the bar, but was nearly
knocked to the ground by some girl. He regained his balance quickly, but she was still falling.
Doing the gentlemanly thing, he snagged her waist before she made contact with the ground.

She looked up at Antonio to thank him, but instead of thanking him, her eyes went wide and one word
was uttered from her lips. It was so low that one had to strain to hear it.

"Draco."

"No. I’m sorry. That would be my mentally incapacitated cousin," Antonio said as he
straightened both of them out. "I’m Antonio. Antonio de Medici. May I ask who you
are?"

"Oh. I’m terribly sorry, Antonio. My name is Ginevra Weasley, or Ginny for short. I’m Draco’s
psychologist."

"Ginevra, eh? Nice strong Italian name. It translates to Geneva in English. Did you say that
you’re Draco’s psychologist?"

"Thank you and yes, yes I am."

"No wonder why you thought I was Draco."

"Yes now that you mention it, you do resemble Draco in many ways. Except for the accent, of
course."

"And the eyes."

"Oh, yes, the eyes," Ginny said with a slight smile.

"So, Ginevra, you must tell me what it’s like baby-sitting Draco?" Antonio asked,
extending an arm to Ginny.

Ginny giggled a bit nervously at Antonio’s question, yet took his arm before replying.

"Yes, I suppose it is like baby-sitting him, isn’t it? Well, he’s very much like the spoiled
brat that I went to school with, but in some ways he isn’t. He doesn’t like answering my questions
and when he does, he has a tendency to go off into some wild tangent that has nothing to do with
the topic at hand. He’s just so frustrating sometimes that I want to strangle the little bastard.
Oh, sorry, I forgot; you’re family. I didn’t mean to speak so lowly of him."

"Oh no, it’s quite alright. We were never really that close, his family and mine. In fact,
this is the third time in my entire life that I’ve seen my aunt Narcissa."

"That must be horrid!"

"I take it that you’re rather close to your family then?"

"Well, with six older brothers one has to be."

"So you’re the youngest?"

"Yes."

"Alas, as an only child, I have no concept of what having siblings would be like."

"In some ways you’re very lucky, Antonio."

"So I’ve been told," he replied with a smile.

Ginny coloured slightly at Antonio’s smile. She couldn’t help it, he was extremely gorgeous and
from what she could tell so far, the perfect gentleman.

They had made their way to the centre of the dance floor by now. As if on cue, the music started up
and Ginny was pulled into Antonio’s arms in one grand sweeping motion.

In his arms, Ginny could feel the warmth of his body, his breath hovering near her neck and the raw
Italian sensuality extruding from his every pore. He was so much like Draco, yet so different. She
had so many questions for him that she couldn’t help asking.

"Antonio, you must tell me all about your family."

"Well, you already know Draco and my aunt Narcissa and my mother’s brother Lucius,
right?"

"Of course."

"You know how Draco killed uncle Lucius?"

"Yes, that happened to be on of the few things that I got out of Draco."

"Then there’s not much left to tell," Antonio said with a chuckle.

"What about your mother and your life growing up in Italy?"

"My mother, Sophia, is originally English by birth. My father, Lorenzo, is a descendant of
what was the largest banking family in Florence, the Medicis. He’s also a Muggle. My mother, coming
from a pure-blooded wizarding family, was soon disowned after marrying my father. So I guess she’s
the black sheep of the family. Because she was disowned, I had little or no contact with my
mother’s family. Growing up, I lived in both worlds: the wizarding and Muggle. My parents are
prominent figures in both of the worlds, so my household was an interesting combination of
both."

"My, that sounds like a fascinating childhood."

"I guess you could call it fascinating."

"Well, its better to live in Italy than in England."

"Is that so?"

"I mean, you have access to so many different enriched cultures and you’re a half-blood, so
you get to experience the wonders of both worlds. I didn’t experience the Muggle world until this
year and that was because my friend Alise grew up with it."

"Is being a half-blood a bad thing?" Antonio asked. Ginny seemed like a sweet girl, but
she was starting to put a toe over to being annoying and/or insulting. Antonio couldn’t figure out
which yet.

"No, it’s not, but I was brought up in a pure-blooded household and although my father worked
in the Department for Misuse of Muggle Artefacts, it just isn’t the same as experiencing the world
yourself."

"Oh, I’m sorry."

"No, you shouldn’t apologize, I did sound rather insulting."

Maybe she wasn’t so bad if she was willing to take blame for her faults.

Yet after Ginny said that, there was an awkward silence as the music began to fade. Antonio
loosened his grasp around Ginny’s waist. Even though she did insult him, he felt something
emanating from her nonetheless. He had to admit she was a very pretty girl. She wasn’t the exotic
socialite that he was used to dating, but she was more of puritan goddess. Her look was vaguely
reminiscent of that of a Roman or Greek goddess, from her hair to her dress. If she didn’t do
anything else that she might regret, maybe he could introduce her to his mother at the end of the
night.

* * * * * * * * *

Sophia de Medici stood at the opposite end of the room watching her son. More specifically, her son
and some red-headed girl.

The girl was smiling at something Antonio had said and Sophia saw the blush creeping up the girl’s
cheeks when Antonio did the same.

As of yet, Sophia was satisfied that her son hadn’t ended up dancing with a skank. If she was
lucky, she might meet this red-headed girl by the end of the night.

Maybe bringing Antonio along wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

* * * * * * * * *

*"Hello. I’m Blaise Zabini. And you are?"*

"Hi," Alise said with a small wave. "I’m Alise Martin. Nice to meet you,
Blaise."

"Likewise," Blaise spoke with a kiss to Alise’s hand.

"You must be Saphira’s son then?"

"The one and only," Blaise said with a smile.

*Wow. He looks amazing when he smiles*, Alise wistfully thought.

"You must know her then?" Blaise continued.

"Oh, no. In fact, I met her tonight at the door; I just recognized the last name."

"Ah, yes. That would give it away wouldn’t it? So, tell me Alise, what brings you here?
Besides Narcissa’s birthday of course."

"Of course. Well, I’m her sister, Bellatrix’s, psychologist, so I guess I was invited for that
reason."

"I’m not interrupting any date that you’re having, am I? Some one as beautiful as you must
have a date."

"Oh, no!" Alise almost exclaimed with a smile. "No. No. In fact, I believe the
person that I came with, my friend Ginny, seems to have found someone." Alise finished with a
point in Ginny’s direction. "Wait, is that Draco?"

Blaise followed Alise’s finger to where Ginny was. "No, that’s his cousin Antonio. And if you
don’t mind me asking, how do you know Ginny?"

"I work of with her. She’s Draco’s psychologist. Why? Do you know her from
somewhere?"

"Do I know her from somewhere? I went to school with her."

"Really? Oh, you must tell me what she was like."

"Well, truth be told, I wasn’t all that friendly with her. In fact, it was common sport in the
Slytherin House to make fun the Weasleys more than the other Gyrffindors."

"Buy why? I mean aren’t you friends with her now?"

"Yeah, *now* we’re friends, but that’s only because of the Ministry, but when were still
in Hogwarts, we weren’t exactly what you would call ‘best pals’."

"You still didn’t tell me why you made fun of Ginny and her family," Alise said with coy
smile.

"I guess I didn’t. I must correct that now. Normally, the Slytherins, my house, just made fun
of the Gryffindors, Ginny’s house. We left most the Weasley related taunts to Draco. He and his
family have this long standing grudge against the Weasleys. I always thought it was kind of
ridiculous, but then again, I’m neither a Weasley nor a Malfoy, am I?"

"So that’s why Ginny hates being Draco’s psychologist," Alise spoke with an air of a new
dawn coming over her.

"I never really thought about that, but yes."

Like Antonio, Blaise was on the hunt for a girl. His mother, Saphira, had given him specific
instructions of what he supposed to do tonight. Besides helping her and Pansy with the party, he
was told to "find a suitable girl because having a one-night stand almost every night of the
week does not make a woman wife material;" the clincher of all this being that he had to
introduce said girl to his mother by the end of the night. He had fallen into one his mother’s
accursed traps. Boy did he hate that. It was bad enough that his mother knew of his infamous
nickname from school, but now she was using it in her favour. She was a crafty woman, that Saphira
Zabini.

"So, Alise, you never did tell me where you’re from."

"Oh, originally, I’m from America; Southern California to be exact. I only moved to England to
go to a competent wizarding college. Don’t get me wrong though, American wizarding schools,
especially the junior and high schools, are amazing, but their wizarding colleges aren’t up to par
yet. My parents are both pure-blooded; among the few in America."

"America, you say? From what I’ve seen of it, which is not much mind you, it’s rather
nice."

"Well, what parts of America have you seen?"

"Parts of New York and Florida."

"So you’ve never been to California?"

"Nope. Never."

"I must take you then! It’s beautiful!"

"We’ll see," Blaise replied with a smile.

"Blaise, dear!"

"Oh, hello, Mother," Blaise said as Saphira planted a kiss on her son’s cheek.

"Blaise, who is this young lady that you seem to be so enwrapped in conversation with?"
Saphira asked with an appraising gesture aimed at Alise.

"Oh, my apologies. Mother, this is Alise Martin. Alise, this is my mother, Saphira
Zabini."

"Pleased to meet you, Alise."

"You as well, Mrs. Zabini."

"Oh, call me ‘Saphira’, darling. Besides, Mr. Zabini died some odd years ago."

"I’m terribly sorry, Saphira."

"For what, dearie? Blaise’s father was only the seventh out of a long line of men."

"Blaise never told me that."

"I wouldn’t expect him to," Saphira said with a charming smile.

Alise didn’t know how to reply to that, so she did the most logical thing: she smiled.

"Alise was it?"

"Yes ma’am."

"Do you think I could talk to you in private?"

"Oh, I don’t know Mrs. Zab- I mean, Saphira."

"Blaise doesn’t mind. Do you, dear?"

"Of course not. Just don’t be too hard on her would you, mother? I kind of like this
one," Blaise finished with a wink to Alise.

Alise visibly blushed at this, but smiled nonetheless.

"Don’t worry, love. It’ll only be a few minutes," Saphira said, slowly taking Alise to a
small alcove in the ballroom.

* * * * * * * * *

God how she hated birthday parties; especially her own.

It wasn’t like that when she was younger though. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

When she was younger, every birthday meant another age closer to maturity and getting away from her
family. Once she hit thirty-five though, it was just another reminder of how old she was.

She had to admit that this year’s shindig was turning out to be quite the social event. And as an
added bonus, her husband wasn’t there to parade her around like some trophy! Yet, with every
positive, there must be a negative.

This year’s negative was the lack of certain charming and charismatic twenty-four year old, also
known as her son. While it never seemed like it, she really did enjoy her son’s company at such
soirees. He was gentlemanly, kind and always complimentary. As *he* grew older, they began to
play a game of sorts. With his good looks, he was able to pick up women very quickly. So, they
formed a bet. At the very beginning of the night, they’d both make guesses as to how many floo
locations he’s get, the equivalent of a Muggle telephone number. To many, their bet seemed shallow
and too inhuman for a mother and son to have, but when affection is scorned upon in their
household, as strange as it sounds, it was the closest thing they had to expressing they love they
had.

That morning, she had looked forward to formulating the bet with her son, but she remembered where
he was and what his current mental state was.

She never remembered crying so much.

Not even at her husband’s funeral, but that was only because she was expected to.

As she walked around the crowded ballroom, socializing with guests, many she didn’t even know, the
reality of it all hit her. She tried to get him out for this one night, but the hospital wouldn’t
budge. Seeing Antonio was like putting salt into a fresh wound.

So with her fake smile plastered onto her face, Narcissa Malfoy meandered around her party,
inwardly mourning the mental loss of her son, Draco, with each step.


**A/N**- Now an explaination to the whole '1 of 2' bit: Originally, ch. 5 was 23 pages
written so far. If I continued to write it out, it would have been well over 30 pages. Typed, this
chapter is 13 pages, so it's rather long. Ch. 6, "The Devil Wears Prada", concludes
Narcissa's birthday festivites. As to why it took me so long to get this out, just real life
problems, but I shall try my best to post ch. 6 in 2 weeks time. Also, I know that Narcissa
wasn't featured all too much except for that last bit there, but she'll be seen more in ch.
6.

**References**- **Peanut** pointed out that Saphira's name comes from Christopher
Paolini's book 'Eragon', so I do not own it. And the Medicis are REAL people. Look it
up (they were well known during the Renaissance in Florence, Italy). Obviously, Sophia and Antonio
are NOT.

Reviews
**Andrea**- First off, THE most AMAZING review I've ever gotten! I had no idea that my
writing did that and that my characters seem human. Thank you so much for your kind words. It
really meant a lot to me. Also, the little cheer you gave me on FIA was great as well! :D As to
D/G's relationship, they will get together at the end, but not in the sense that you might be
thinking of. But trust me, they will!

Everyone else, thank you so much! All of your reviews are lovely and beyond amazing! They keep me
going and I thank you for that.

Next chapter: Alise talks with Saphira, Ginny talks with Sophia, and Alise's 20 minutes of
weirdness. Plus, a bigger appearance from the birthday girl! Oh and if you wish to recieve emails
as to when I update, either leave your email in your review and tell me you would like an update,
or join the
D/G Yahoo!Group
.



6. Strange Occurrences
----------------------

**A/N-**This chapter is named "Strange Occurrences" for a reason. There are no
spoliers in this chapter and yes, I did change the chapter name. This one fits better.

As always, I don't own the lovely Ginevra Weasley, Draco (although I wish I did...), Narcissa
Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, or Pansy Parkinson. I *do*, however, own Alise, Antonio, Sophia, and
Saphira. Also, a smidge of the plot. Yay for me!



Chapter 6- Strange Occurrences (Part 2 of 2 of Narcissa's Birthday Gala)

Ginny had to admit that she was having a good time with Antonio. He wasn’t like any of the other
guys that she had previously dated. Originally, her intention was to come to the party with Alise
and happily watch Alise charm the pants off of her next piece of arm candy. And at the beginning of
the night, she was content with that choice. She still was even when she met Antonio. Yet, as the
night progressed, her mantra was slowly slipping away, being replaced with the hope that she might
get to see him again.

Ginny was pulled back to reality at the sound of Antonio’s voice.

“Ginny? Did you hear me?”

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. I’m afraid I didn’t catch that last part. Do you think you could repeat
it?”

“Well, I was wondering if you would like to meet my mother, Sophia?”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit too soon to meet your mother? After all, I met you for the first time
tonight.”

“Nonsense. Besides, she’ll be pestering me about you after the party, so you might as well meet her
now.”

“Umm…I suppose I could,” Ginny replied with a shy smile.

“Great!” Antonio exclaimed with another one of his brilliant smiles. He let go of Ginny completely
and beckoned her with a hand. “Here, follow me.”

“Ok.”

*Oh god. I didn’t expect to meet his mother tonight!* Ginny frantically thought. *I only met
the bloke just two hours ago! I’d understand if we were going out for at least a month or so, but
this is a little absurd. Ok. Ok. Just calm down, Ginny. It’s only nerves. You’ll be fine. If
anything, think of Antonio’s smile. Yes, his smile.*

About five minutes and some crafty manoeuvring later, Ginny was face to face with Sophia de
Medici.

If there was ever a time Ginny was afraid, it was definitely now. One would think that it would be
a point during the war, or even the Chamber, but no, Sophia trumped them all. Sophia de Medici was
a tall, willowy woman with wavy, white blonde hair that was vaguely reminiscent of the short bobs
of the Roaring Twenties. She had slanting, bright blue eyes that stood out like a pair of daggers
against her pale, yet clear complexion. As if she wasn’t striking enough, her robes were that of an
icy blue, cut in a way that hugged what little curves she had, and made her eyes seem even more
piercing than they already were. If it weren’t for the fact that Ginny liked Antonio a great deal
and was genuinely curious about Draco’s disowned aunt, she would have ran right then and
there.

Antonio seemed to be the only one who noticed Ginny’s fear. He had a feeling that Ginny would react
in this manner. Most people did when they saw his mother for the first time. Upon further
reflection, he realized that if he were in Ginny’s shoes, he’d be afraid as well. Shaking himself
out of his small daze, he attempted to subdue Ginny’s fear by starting the conversation.

“Mother, this is Ginevra Weasley. Ginny, this is my mother, Sophia de Medici.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ginevra,” Sophia spoke with a slight Italian accent.

“You as well. And you can call me Ginny; Ginevra sounds so formal, Mrs. Medici.”

“Alright, Ginny, but on one condition: I insist that you call me Sophia,” Sophia stated with a
smile identical to her son’s.

“Of course…Sophia.”

“So, Ginny, tell me, how exactly do you know my sister-in-law, Narcissa?”

“I’m her son, Draco’s, psychologist,” Ginny stated with the common air of someone discussing the
weather.

“Come again?” Sophia said with her eyes slightly wider than normal.

“I’m Draco’s psychologist,” Ginny repeated with the slightest bit of uncertainty. *Is it a bad
thing to be Malfoy’s psychologist?*

Much to Ginny’s dismay, Sophia began speaking to Antonio in hushed tones. She strained to hear, but
begrudgingly realized that they were speaking in Italian. She straightened out just as both began
to turn towards Ginny with their identical and somewhat creepy smiles.

Gingerly, Sophia placed a hand on Ginny’s arm, carefully leading her away from a weary-looking
Antonio. Ginny saw that Sophia was leading her to a side room and began anticipating the twenty
questions session that was sure to ensue.

The one thing that she didn’t expect was the first thing that came out of Sophia’s mouth once the
door was closed and locked.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, Ginevra?”

“Sophia, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m shocked that Antonio never told you when he found out.”

“Found out about what?” Ginny at this point was thoroughly confused; these were not the questions
she was expecting.

“You being Draco’s psychologist.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that. I’ve known him for well over ten years. I think I can handle
anything he can dish out, Sophia.”

“No, I’m not talking about things of that nature, I mean something *else*.”

“How could you possibly know anything about Draco? Not to be rude, but from what I understand,
you’ve only seen Draco two times in his entire life.”

Sophia started to laugh. Her laughter reverberated off the walls; rich in its Italian accent, yet
stifling, too. She looked at Ginny with the slightest hint of pity.

“Haven’t you heard of a nifty little thing called owl post?”

“Of course I have, but aren’t you disowned?”

“Just because I may be disowned by my prick of a brother and the rest of my equally detestable
family, doesn’t mean that I was disowned by said brother’s wife and son.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that just because Lucius and the rest of my family disowned me does not mean that Narcissa
or Draco did.”

“Wait! Hold on! So you’ve been communicating with Narcissa and Draco all this time?”

“Why does it surprise you?”

“Well, you’ve never been mentioned by either Draco or Narcissa.”

“Have they ever mentioned someone named Luciana?” Sophia asked with a knowing smirk.

“Yes…wait. That was you?”

“Naturally.”

“But why take on that alias?”

“My brother was above all things a suspicious little bastard. When he got wind of me communicating
with Narcissa and Draco, he began checking any post the two got, forcing me to write under the
alias of Luciana, Narcissa’s childhood friend and second mother to young Draco. Whenever they
stopped by in Italy, they would stay in Florence or Milan with me. You see, Ginevra, once you’re
disowned in the Malfoy family, there’s no turning back. All family members are to refrain from
speaking to you and that extends to the spouses and children as well.”

“Well, why don’t they just starting referring to you as Sophia now that Lucius is gone?”

“Old habits die hard, I suppose.”

“Ok, I understand that, but I’m still a bit foggy as to why being Draco’s psychologist is a bad
thing.”

“Have you ever wondered why Draco’s had so many psychologists in the past two years alone?”

“No,” Ginny was starting to become hesitant at the sound of Sophia’s tone.

“Has Narcissa ever told you what afflictions made each of -” Sophia paused, afraid she may have
said too much.

“What afflictions? To whom?” Sophia had captured Ginny hook, line and sinker with her last few
questions and she left her hanging? Ginny only felt it right to correct this grave wrong.

“No, I’ve said too much. Narcissa said that you’re the best in the field and I trust her judgement.
I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough, Ginny.” Sophia took Ginny’s arm again and began leading her
out of the small room. “Come now, let us head back towards Antonio,” Sophia spoke with a small
smile.

Ginny walked out of the room, linked to Sophia, with a look of mild confusion strewn across her
face.

*What in god’s name was Sophia going on about?*

* * * * * * * * *

On the other side of the ballroom, Saphira Zabini had cornered Alise in one of the many alcoves
bordering the room’s perimeter. After making sure that they were the only two within said alcove,
Saphira rounded on Alise, springing forth her first question.

“What are your intentions with my son?”

“Wh-what?” Alise sputtered. “Saphira, I’ve only met Blaise just a little over an hour ago. I have
no clue what I intend to do with your son.”

“So you have no inclinations to snog and/or shag him senseless tonight, then leave him the next
morning?”

“I should think not!” Alise spoke with a hint of indignation.

“Good, good,” Saphira stated, narrowing her eyes. “Now, tell me, what exactly is it that you
do?”

“I’m a criminal psychologist for St. Mungo’s and Azkaban. I’ve worked with many, although my most
recent patient is Bellatrix Lestrange.”

“Interesting.” Alise couldn’t be too sure, but with every passing minute, Saphira was starting to
sound like a cartoon villain. “This would then explain how you know Narcissa. Based on that, I’m
assuming that you live quite comfortably?”

“Well, I guess you could call having a penthouse flat in Muggle London ‘comfortable’.”

“Yes, my dear, it does,” Saphira replied with a smile, segueing into a period of silence.

It was during those three minutes of silence that Alise made up her mind about Saphira Zabini.
Alise observed Saphira, noticing the little hand gestures she made while thinking and how her
beautifully shaped eye brows crinkled in frustration. She didn’t know whether or not there was
insanity in Saphira’s family, but the past fifteen minutes wasn’t helping her case all too
much.

After the three minutes were up, Saphira clasped her hands together, her face glowing with
joy.

“Oh! This is just lovely!” Saphira exclaimed, shocking Alise.

“What’s love -” But before Alise could finish, she was enwrapped in a hug by Saphira, then given
two quick kisses on each cheek.

“You have passed, darling! Ah! This is wonderful! Simply marvellous!”

“What do you mean I’ve ‘passed’?” Alise asked, cocking an eye brow.

“I mean you are the perfect girl for my son.”

“But, Mrs. Zabini, I mean, Saphira, surely you don’t -”

“Nonsense, my dear. I can tell by your reaction that you don’t know about my son’s infamous track
record with women and his equally infamous nickname. But I’m sure you’ll find out about all of that
in good time.”

“Saphira, I get the feeling that Blaise is what one would call ‘promiscuous’,” Alise stated as she
and Saphira walked away from the alcove.

Saphira Apparated to the bar with a pop before returning not thirty seconds later with a green
apple martini. She took a sip, wiping some excess off of her mouth with one acrylic nail before
replying.

“Sorry about that. I’ve wanted one ever since we started talking. Anyways, promiscuous doesn’t even
begin to cover it. He was known for his promiscuity at school, taking the name ‘the Hogwarts Boy
Whore’. I always asked him why that couldn’t be Draco’s nickname,” Saphira spoke, her left middle
finger skimming the rim of the glass. “After all, Draco did bed more girls than my son did.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was Draco’s nickname?”

“The Slytherin Sex God,” Saphira said in the middle of another sip.

“I think Ginny told me that it implied how good he was in bed,” Alise stated with a slight smirk.
Apparently, ‘in good time’ was about five minutes later for Alise.

“Oh,” Saphira squeaked.

“Mother! Alise! I’ve been looking all over for you two!” exclaimed Blaise, walking out of the
crowd.

“Hello there, dear,” Saphira said, giving Blaise a peck on the cheek.

Alise was about to get a peck from Blaise when he started sniffing his mother. *How strange*,
Alise thought, transforming her face into one of a quizzical nature. Blaise gave a hard look to his
mother before giving another look to the drink in her hand.

“Mother, is that what I think it is? You know you can’t hold your liquor!”

“What in heaven’s name are you talking about? I can too hold my liquor and you know it Blaise
Alexander Zabini!” Saphira screeched, her now apparent tipsiness becoming quite apparent after she
partially slurred Blaise’s name.

Blaise whipped out his wand, pointed it at his mother and muttered a quick Sobrietus before
grabbing Saphira’s martini glass.

Saphira regained her senses immediately and visibly paled. “Oh, sweet Merlin. Alise, I am so sorry.
How very embarrassing! This is not the type of impression I had hoped to give you. I must have had
one too many drinks that I thought I did.”

“Oh, it’s ok, Saphira,” Alise said with a nervous laugh. “I know what it’s like to be thoroughly
embarrassed.”

“Come, Alise,” Blaise commanded, putting an arm around her waist. “I just realized that my mother
has other business to attend to.”

As soon as they were out of Saphira’s range, Alise rounded on Blaise.

“What the hell is wrong with your mother?” Alise asked, grabbing the martini and downing the rest
of its contents.

“Alise, what in Merlin’s name are you talking about? My mother is perfectly fine.”

“Do you have any idea how weird the last twenty minutes of my life has been and all because of your
mother? I was perfectly fine with you and then everything just became all weird and awkward after
she showed up.”

“Would you care to enlighten me as to the weird and awkward situations my mother has induced over
the last twenty minutes?” Blaise asked with a small smirk.

“Sure, why not? Ginny’s off flirting with Draco’s Italian look-alike, my other best friend is in
America and my mother would just make everything worse. But first, can we sit somewhere?”

“If it’ll make you happy, luv.”

“I’ll make me very, very happy,” Alise hissed.

Alise proceeded to scan the ballroom for a sitting area, but settled for going into Lucius’ old
study, which Narcissa had transformed into a charming tea room.

“So as you were saying earlier…” Blaise began.

“Ah, yes. Well, when I first met your mother I thought she was a very beautiful woman; slightly
indifferent, but beautiful all the same. I was a bit hesitant to talk to her at first, yet I did so
anyway because I liked what I was getting from you so far. The first thing your mother said to me
when we were alone was, and I quote, ‘What are your intentions with my son?’” Alise paused here
after hearing a groan from Blaise coupled with him falling back onto the sofa. “She then asked me
if I was only interested in you for a one-night stand.” Again, Alise stopped for Blaise shot up in
his seat with a “She didn’t!”

“Oh, yes, she did! I had to explain to her that I wasn’t interested in you for anything like that,
then she asked me what I did for a living, which granted isn’t all that weird, it was the response
to all of this that was weird.”

“What did she do?”

“She started clasping her hands together, saying that I was the perfect girl…for…you.”

“Oh. That is rather awkward, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, my sentiments exactly.”

“Anything else you’d like to add?”

“Oh, yes; she mentioned your infamous nickname to me.”

“Damn it! I told her not to do that! I specifically told her that when the time came, I would tell
the girl. But did she listen? Noooo! My mother never listens to anything I tell her when she finds
a suitable girl! It all just goes out the window!” Blaise’s ranting regarding his mother continued
uninterrupted for a good ten minutes before Alise felt compelled to shush him with her index finger
over his lips.

“Blaise, I really don’t care about your nickname or any other little quirks that you may have;
that’s who you are, you can’t help that. I can deal with your mother, trust me. But, if you see
your mother as a problem, then maybe we should just end this acquaintance now; I don’t want to be
the cause of any problems between you two.”

Blaise took Alise’s hand and gave it a quick peck before looking into her eyes.

“Alise, I would love nothing more than to see you again sometime soon. Thank you for tolerating my
mother tonight; you just have to get used to her manner. And if she does cause any problems, just
let me know,” Blaise said with a smile.

*Wow. This guy’s committed, and I barely even know him*, Alise thought with a secret
smile.

“Thanks and I’ll be sure to do so,” Alise spoke with a slight blush.

* * * * * * * * *

Narcissa Malfoy spotted Ginny Weasley from across the ballroom with her sister-in-law,
Sophia.

She had to admit that for a Weasley, she sure did clean up nicely. She’d have to ask her where she
bought that fabulous dress the next time she talked to her.

Narcissa was vaguely aware of the fact that Pansy Parkinson was talking to her. She nodded and
smiled at all the right times, speaking only when necessary. She wanted to get away from the girl
and the conversation as soon as possible. Seeing Pansy only reminded her of, who else but,
Draco.

Pansy was betrothed to Draco during his fourth year. Lucius felt that it was the only way to ensure
his family name’s continuation. Narcissa hated the idea of it; she was always reminded of her own
miserable failure of a marriage. She never wanted that for Draco, the least of all with Pansy. Not
that there was anything wrong with Pansy; she was a smart, sensible girl when need be and she was
like a daughter to Narcissa. But she knew her son, and she knew that he never liked Pansy “in that
way,” as Draco so delicately put it. Never had, never will. She also knew that, much like herself,
her son was a bit of a hopeless romantic deep-down. Ok, so maybe he wasn’t as hopeless as his
mother was, but he was never too keen on the idea of marrying Pansy. Draco, with all of his faults,
one being his uncontrollable libido, felt that eventually, he would settle down with a girl from a
respectable family, pure-blooded or not. Unfortunately, he was cursed with his father’s insatiable
need for power and saw becoming a Death Eater as his only means. After he was officially initiated,
his life took a downward spiral, the height of it being his incarceration at St. Mungo’s. When his
condition only worsened, Narcissa felt it was time to quit assigning him amateurs and hire the best
in the business. That was how she met Ginny.

Eventually, Narcissa came back to reality and politely excused herself from Pansy’s presence,
letting out a deep breath as she walked away.

Almost sub-consciously, she made her way through the crowds to where Ginny was standing with Sophia
and Antonio. Narcissa would have remained in her trance-like state if it wasn’t for the fact that
Ginny was addressing her.

“Hello, Narcissa. It’s wonderfully to see you again,” Ginny said with a smile.

“Oh, yes, hello, Ginny, dear. It’s good to see you, too. Are you enjoying yourself at this little
soiree of mine?”

“Very much so. I just have one question to ask of you.”

“And what is that?”

“Well, on the invitation, Pansy and Saphira referred to you as Narcissa Malfoy, not Narcissa Black,
as you preferred to be called.”

“Yes, I’ve received the same comment from many over the course of the night. I’m not exactly sure
why they didn’t use my maiden name. Maybe it had to do with what little respect the Malfoy name
still commands.”

“Narcissa, darling, you wound me,” Sophia spoke with the slightest bit of contempt.

Narcissa turned at Sophia’s comment, seeming to notice her for the first time.

“Sophia! My lovely sister-in-law! It’s been ages! How’s life in Florence? How’s Lorenzo? How’s my
nephew, Antonio?” Narcissa exclaimed with a bright smile.

Antonio took this as his cue to step out of the shadows and address his estranged aunt.

“Hello aunt Narcissa,” Antonio almost whispered.

Narcissa stared up into Antonio’s deep brown eyes before speaking.

“My Antonio, how you’ve grown. Why you were just a tiny thing the last time I saw you and now
you’re all grown up,” Narcissa almost choked out, tears welling up in her eyes.

Narcissa turned away from the trio for a brief moment and with a deft hand motion, wiped her
glistening eyes. She took a deep breath before turning back to them with a beatific smile.

“Ginny, didn’t Alise come with you?”

“Why yes, she did, but I don’t seem to know where she’s run off to.”

“No matter; I’m sure I’ll find her eventually.”

After Narcissa’s last comment, the group was at a loss for words. No one knew how to continue the
already strange conversation.

“Oh, Ginny, I almost forgot; wherever did you get that fabulous dress of yours?” Narcissa asked,
saving the conversation.

Ginny looked at her dress, primping and smoothing out the silk and chiffon.

“This thing? I picked it up in Muggle London.”

“Really? Surely a dress this lovely has to be made by Madame Malkin herself,” Narcissa spoke in
disbelief.

“No, Narcissa, I’m positive that I bought it in Muggle London.”

Sophia was starting to get the distinct impression that Narcissa’s behaviour was a little off and
it wasn’t due to too much vodka. She knew that Narcissa was upset over Draco’s absence, but her
over perkiness was pushing it just a bit. She would have to owl her about it when she got back home
to Florence.

* * * * * * * * *

The party was starting to wind down.

Guests were bidding each other farewell, while certain couples were sneaking off in drunken bouts
of giggling.

Ginny wished she was one of those couples. And she probably would be if she had been dating Antonio
for a certain length of time, but alas, it was not meant to be.

Eventually, she bade Antonio and Sophia farewell. Antonio with a chaste kiss on the cheek and the
exchange of addresses for owl post, and Sophia with the standard two cheek kisses. Soon after, they
Apparated back to their home in Florence.

Ginny let out a deep sigh at the sound of the pop and went in search of Alise.

She found her after not too long, ensconced by Blaise Zabini. She gasped at first, but decided to
hide herself before retrieving Alise.

Blaise’s mom, Saphira, was nowhere to be seen, but Ginny could guess by Blaise’s behaviour that she
was not too far off. He held Alise by the waist and was currently trailing a line of kisses along
her neck; Ginny’s eye brows raised in shock at Alise’s newfound boldness. Alise giggled, but pushed
Blaise away, much to Ginny’s relief. Alise made a move to walk away, but Blaise grabbed her hand,
giving it a quick kiss before pulling her into a hug. When he finally let go, Alise found a small
piece of parchment in her hand. Alise only smiled and waved good-bye as Blaise backed away, blowing
her a kiss before turning around and walking into the dwindling crowd. Alise gave a sigh and did a
small turn before walking away. Ginny took this as her cue to make herself known.

“Hey, Alise! Over here!” Ginny exclaimed, waving her arms to attract Alise’s attention.

“Oh, Ginny! It was wonderful!” Alise blurted out as soon as she spotted Ginny.

“What was?” Although Ginny has some idea as to what, or who, Alise was going on about.

Alise refused to tell until she got home, so Ginny guided her to the door.

“Come on, Alise, let’s Apparate back to my flat; you can spend the night there.”

With a simultaneous pop, Alise and Ginny Apparated to Ginny’s flat.

* * * * * * * * *

They Apparated into Ginny’s bedroom, immediately collapsing side by side onto Ginny’s bed, staring
at the ceiling.

“Alright, Miss Uber Giddy, you go first,” Ginny nearly deadpanned.

“Ever heard of a guy named Blaise Zabini?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

In response, Alise opened her clutch, pulled out the piece of paper Blaise gave her and handed it
to Ginny.

Ginny glanced at it before turning over to face to Alise.

“Why you little slag,” she muttered with a smirk.

Alise replied with a smirk of her own before speaking.

“What can I say, Ginny? I may have thought his mother to be temporarily unhinged, but that Blaise
Zabini is one sexy beast. I just couldn’t help myself. But enough about my night, why don’t you
tell me about your positively delicious Draco look-alike?”

“Oh, you mean Antonio?” Ginny asked with a coy smile.

“Who’s the slag now?”

“Shush you.”

“Oh, come on, Ginny! You have to admit that he is a rather scrumptious piece of arm candy!” Alise
exclaimed.

Ginny flopped back onto the bed with a dreamy smile painted on her face.

“He is tasty, isn’t he?”

“Uh, duh, Ginny. So what was he like?”

“Like Draco at his best, with less snark and more appropriateness.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“In a way, yes.”

“So did you exchange addresses?”

“Of course we did! I’m not that ignorant.”

“Well what now?”

“Good question.”

“I say you write to him tomorrow.”

“Really? Don’t you think that’s a bit too soon?”

“I’ll write to Blaise if you write to Antonio.”

“Alise, you’ve got yourself a deal.”



**A/N-** Alrighty, like I said in the first author's note, this chapter is named
"Strange Occurrences" for a reason. Everything that happens in this chapter, happens for
a reason. We don't know the reason yet, but trust me, it comes into play later on. As always,
thanks to Angel. She is amazing.

Next chapter: Another flashback chapter. Told much in the same fashion as ch. 3, in terms of the
diary. Ginny during her last year at college for her psychology degree. Talks about her final study
on Ron and we finally see Professor Upland!

Please review if you see fit to do so. It would be greatly appreciated to hear some
feedback.



7. Ginevra Weasley, Workaholic Extraordinaire
---------------------------------------------

**A/N-** I know. I know. I was supposed to do the 2-for-1 update thing, but well, as I'm
sure you've guessed, ch. 8 is taking considerably longer than I had intended. It's almost
half-way done, but I felt compelled to post this. This chapter is rather short, but it gives us
some insight to a rather different Ginny. Or at least different from what we've read so far. I
hope you all enjoy. Oh, by the way, regarding Prof. Upland's voice: if you have seen
*Wicked* or at least have heard the soundtrack, then you know what Kristin Chenoweth's
voice sounds like. Imagine Kristin Chenoweth's voice whenever Prof. Upland speaks.



Chapter 7- Ginevra Weasley, Workaholic Extraordinaire

03 April 2002

Oh, sweet Merlin, kill me now.

Why did I have to take up psychology? These past two years have definitely been harder than I
thought. It doesn’t help when you have a positively incompetent teacher, too.

I mean, Professor Upland is a great woman and all, but a good teacher she does not make. Plus, the
woman is too annoying and obnoxious for her own good! I have never seen a person wear so much pink
in all of my life! She’s blonde, bubbly and absolutely horrid! How she ever became a teacher is
beyond me. Supposedly, she’s some sort of transfer teacher. The thing is, where she came from is
completely unheard of in the wizarding world, yet she claims to be a full-fledged witch. I am at a
complete and utter loss on what to think of her! I was even tempted to do my final study on her
just to figure the woman out! How sad is that? Eventually, Luna talked me out of it,
thankfully.

Thanks to Alise, my roommate, though, I finally figured out who I should do my final study on. I
can’t believe I didn’t think of it before; I feel like a complete and utter idiot now. Anyways,
Alise came up with the fabulous idea of using Ron. I must say, it’s a stroke of sheer brilliance on
the part of Alise.

Yet, as with most things in my life, I did have reservations.

First off, I did not want to exploit my brother in such a way, even if it is for my education and
subsequently, science. Secondly, I felt that I would not progress with him as much as I wanted to.
After all, because he is my brother I would know a great deal about his psyche. If I used someone
else for my final study, someone that I did not know as well, then it might be easier (in my mind
at least) for me in the sense of progress and how much I could learn from the patient.

And because of my rationale, I explained to Alise that the scientific and emotional repercussions
would make using Ron trivial compared to the paper I could make on someone else. Alas, Alise, with
her common sense, did make a very valid point: use Ron and get an automatic A.

Again, I have to say that I’m shocked that this wasn’t part of my well-thought out rationale. Think
about it: by using Ron, or at least this is what Alise told me, I will already have some insight
into his mind and because he is my brother, it will appeal to my emotional teacher, Professor
Upland. And for the final time, I feel like a moron because I did not think of it.

* * * * * * * * *

04 April 2002

Professor Upland approved of Alise’s idea!

She even teared up! Now that is a feat in itself.

Ok. So this morning after class I decided to get ahead of my fellow classmates and inform Professor
Upland of whom my final study was going to be on; some two days before the due date.

Everything went exactly as I thought it would. The conversation, her reaction, everything! Oh, I
just wish that I had a (what did Hermione call it?), oh yes! - a camcorder. How I wish I had that
Muggle device so I could’ve recorded every single perfect moment! I guess I’ll just have to settle
for this re-count then.

As I was saying before, I approached Professor Upland immediately after class.

“Excuse me, Professor Upland? Would it be too much trouble if I could have a word with you?”

“Oh, no, of course not, Ginny.” I don’t know why, but Professor Upland insists on calling all of
her students by their first names, claiming that she feels a closer connection that way. “Here,
follow me into my office,” she finished off with that irritating, high-pitched voice of hers.

I trailed her to the back of the classroom, until we stopped at a door with the words **Prof.
G(a)linda Upland, Professor of Psychology** posted on the glass in broad, black letters. She
unlocked the door, stepping inside while flicking on a light switch on the wall. Mind you, I had
never been inside the woman’s office before, so the experience was an interesting one to say the
least.

The walls were, surprisingly, white, as well as the wood panelled furniture, but she used pink
accents to make up for the lack of her favourite colour. Pink roses, pink cushions for the chairs,
pink area rugs; just some of the little pink details scattered about the room.

Professor Upland proceeded to walk around to her desk, but I was too preoccupied with the photos
and other such things hanging on her walls.

One was clearly a degree of some sort from a “Shiz University.” I made a mental note to research
Shiz. Another one was a picture of Professor Upland at about nineteen or so with another girl
around the same age. They looked to be friends by the warm smiles on their faces, but there was
something strange about the other girl in the picture. She was beautiful beyond belief with jet
black hair, clear emerald, almond shaped eyes and a chiselled, but unusually soft face. Yet, there
was still something rather off key about her.

Soon enough I was caught off guard when I realized Professor Upland was standing right next to
me.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” she asked in that impossible voice of hers, only this time with a hint of
sorrow.

“Who?”

“Elphie. I mean, Elphaba,” Professor Upland stated, pointing to the girl I was currently staring
at.

“Professor, I know this may seem rather odd to be asking, but is Elphaba’s skin green or is it just
a lighting trick?”

“Oh, no; Elphie’s skin was green alright. No one really knew how or why it happened; I mean, no one
else in her family had green skin. Unfortunately, myself, along with her boyfriend, Fiyero, as well
as our old professor, Doctor Dillamond, were the only ones that really appreciated her
brilliance.”

“Do you still talk to her?”

“No. She and Fiyero died in our third year of college,” Professor Upland spoke with a
sniffle.

“Oh, my. I am so sorry for bringing it up.”

“Don’t feel bad, my dear. Now, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked,
motioning for me to sit as she walked behind her desk.

“Well, Professor Upland, I wanted to inform you of who I am to do my final study on.”

“But, Ginny, you still have two more days before you are required to tell me.”

“I understand that, Professor, but I already thought it through and feel its best that I tell you
now so I can get a head start; even if it is just two days.”

“If you insist, Ginny. But after you tell me, you cannot change your mind. Are we clear on
that?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ok, then. Now, who is it?”

“My brother, Ron.”

“Isn’t he the one who was given the Cruciatus Curse to the point of insanity?” she asked
apprehensively.

I simply nodded my head.

Within the span of about five seconds, I found myself wrapped into a hug, after Professor Upland
had practically leaped out of her chair and rushed over to embrace me. She then began raining on my
jumper. Darn that woman.

I patted her on the back, not exactly sure what the right thing to do in that situation was.

She pulled back, grabbed a tissue from a box on her desk and blew her nose.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry for the waterworks, Ginny. I must say, though, it is awfully brave of you
to use your brother, especially with the relationship you had with him. Are you sure you’re willing
to put yourself through that type of emotional trauma?”

“Yes, Professor. In fact, I believe whatever ‘emotional trauma’ I go through will only enhance my
paper.”

“Ginny, you are one of my best and favourite (*well, the latter was a bit of a shocker*)
students. I would hate to see you fall apart during the course of this project. I can’t say that I
know what you’re getting yourself into -because I don’t- but do be careful, Ginny. You may not like
what you discover. And good luck, dearie,” Professor Upland finished with a small smile.

“So does this mean that you’ll allow me to use Ron?” I asked eagerly.

She gave me a fervent nod coupled with a toothy grin.

I squealed in girlish delight. This time I caught Professor Upland off guard by engaging her in a
hug (which I quickly broke off, mind you). “Thank you so much! You have no idea how much this means
to me!”

“Anytime, Ginny,” she said as I ran, well more like fast-walked, out of her office.

And there you have it! Oh, this is just so exciting! I’m getting started tomorrow, in fact. I have
exactly two months to compose my paper and I have already scheduled visits with Ron. All, well I
shouldn’t really say all, more like most, ok. Most of my planning was made during lunch and before
I started writing this entry.

You know, as I look back on this particular entry, the last few things that Professor Upland said
to me struck me as rather odd. Specifically the part where she says that I don’t know what I’m
getting myself into and that I might not like what I discover. All of that seemed very queer to me.
Was she trying to warn me? After all, it’s just Ron. He’s my brother; we know more about each other
than humanly possible. Like Alise said, using him will be extremely easy. I have absolutely nothing
to either fear and/or worry about.

* * * * * * * * *

04 May 2002

It’s been exactly one month since I told Professor Upland about my subject and when I started my
final study.

I’ve had fifteen visits with Ron so far and about ten more to go, making for a total of
twenty-five.

Today happens to be one of my visits.

So far, Professor Upland was wrong about whatever “emotional trauma” I should encounter while
studying Ron.

I must say that my brother’s psyche goes deeper than I had originally thought. Then again, most
people’s psyches tend to do that.
Even though I haven’t gotten much out of Ron, I do have one consolation: at least Luna can visit
him. Luna has helped me more so than I thought she would or could. It didn’t occur to me until
after she asked, but Luna loves Ron. My best friend in love with my brother! And I had no idea!
Anyways, Luna usually tags along whenever I visit Ron. She plays games with him, reads to him or
just listens while I talk to him. The most heart-wrenching part about this, though, is that he has
no clue who she is. He remembers me, but he doesn’t remember Luna. I think that affected me the
most out of everything. It’s hard watching Luna pour her heart out almost every time we go back to
my dorm room. I try to comfort her, but it’s so hard to do. I’ve never been all that excellent at
comforting others. I don’t know why, but I’m just not good at it.

-Later-

I just came back from my visit with Ron.

Luna decided not to come with me this time. It’s a shame, too; Ron asked where “the pretty blonde
girl” was. I need to remember to tell Luna that; it would cheer her up.

I guess the fact that Ron’s asking about Luna means that I’m making progress with him, which is a
good thing.

Other than Ron asking about Luna, I didn’t get much out of this visit. We talked mostly about how I
was doing and we played a couple games of wizards’ chess. What amazes me is that even though Ron
will never be the same again, he can still manage to gather what shards of his sanity he has left
in order to beat me at wizards’ chess. Darn him, but in a loving and somewhat sisterly way.

Here’s a small sample of what our session was like:

*“Ginny, why do the chess pieces destroy each other like that?”

“I don’t know, Ron. Maybe it’s magic,” I answer, wiggling my fingers.

Ron laughed at this. “Pfft. Magic. Ha. That’s funny, Ginny. Everyone knows magic is just a bunch of
silly parlour tricks. Smoke and mirrors, that’s all that is. But really, what is making the chess
pieces move the way they do?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me, Ron?” I asked like an adult would do to a rather precocious
child.

“Well, everyone knows that the reason why the chess pieces move the way they do is because they are
voice-activated, battery-powered, magnetized, special mini-robots. Gosh, Ginny, I thought that
every human being on the face of the earth knew that. I guess you’re not as smart as I thought you
were.”

“I resent that, Ron.”

Ron stuck his tongue out in response.*

Ok, so Ron thinks he’s a Muggle. That’s fine. Where he received so much information about Muggles
and their technology is a little beyond my comprehension. Maybe it’s a combination of dad, Harry,
Hermione and Muggle Studies. I think I should look into that.

* * * * * * * * *

04 June 2002

I just handed in my final study to Professor Upland. I even added in a copy of Ron’s profile for a
bit of something extra that will ensure an excellent grade.

It was rather odd because Professor Upland winked and smiled at me as I gave her my paper. I was a
little creeped out by it. Alise saw it and interpreted it as something good, but still, I was
thoroughly creeped out by it. Maybe I’m just odd in that respect.

* * * * * * * * *

12 June 2002

Finally! Graduation Day came and went. I thought the day would never come when I didn’t have to
show up for another psychology class.

I must say that my valedictorian speech went quite well, thank you very much. I even received a
standing ovation and Mum said it was brilliant! I am just too amazing for my own good.

-Later-

This is just too delicious to not put in here. Here’s the clipping, straight from the Daily
Prophet. You know, for once I’m actually proud of Rita Skeeter:

**MALFOY MOVED TO ST. MUNGO’S**
Reported and Written by R. Skeeter

*Draco Malfoy, 22, known Death Eater and son of fellow deceased Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, has
been transferred from Azkaban to St. Mungo’s on plea of insanity. Earlier this week, Malfoy’s
mother, Narcissa Black, filed an appeal for her son’s transfer with the Minister of Magic
himself.

Although neither Ms. Black nor the Minister could be reached for comment, speculation has surfaced,
revealing that Malfoy may not be criminally insane at all. With this crucial information at hand,
this reporter personally believes that Ms. Black did it to keep her son away from the dementors of
Azkaban.

Word has spread quickly in not only the wizarding aristocracy grapevine, but among the more common
of wizarding kind, regarding Draco Malfoy’s new residence as well as rumours as to who his
psychologist will be. Apparently, Narcissa Black wants to hire a psychologist for her son in order
to “cure whatever psychological malady is plaguing young Draco,” states a source that shall remain
unnamed.* Continued on page 8.


Ha. I feel bad for the poor sap that gets stuck with Malfoy.



**A/N-** Thanks to Angel, my beta. Well, that's chapter 7 for you. I told you it was shorter
in comparision to ch. 5 & 6, but we learn some things about Ginny. By the way, is it just me
(and my beta, Angel) or is the very last line of this chapter just great. I find it rather funny,
but that's just me. Anyways, in regards to Ginny's "Graduation Day," I'm
pretty sure that they don't do that in Britain, that it's more of an American thing, but
well me being the American that I am decided to put it in there. Call it artistic licence. Also,
because we don't know when Glinda becomes Lady Chuffery in terms of Wicked (and now, Son of a
Witch), I'll say that she's rather young here and that she marries Sir Chuffery later on in
life. They never really made it clear when she married. Again, artistic licence. One last thing: I
think everyone who has read ch. 5 & 6 love Saphira Zabini. I swear on all that is good and holy
in this world that she did not turn out the way she did originally, but in my state of almost
insomnia, she came out that way. After I typed up the chapter, I was going to go back and rewrite a
lot of her scenes, but then I thought better of it. Good thing, too, since all of you seem to like
her. I also saw the Batman episode that inspired this fic yesterday! And no, I will not tell you
what the name of it is or else my plot would be ruined.


Reviews
Now! I got quite a few reviews for ch. 6, so if you asked a question (it's ok to ask me
questions, folks) or something of that nature, more than likely you did not read the responce that
I had for your review (which I do respond to, by the way), I shall put it here. But just this
once.

**cherrrystarz**- Yeah. Ginny's just a bit odd. I'm not exactly sure why, but I thought
that Ginny would refer to Antonio as a "bloke".
**Tasha x**- Like you said, Ginny and Draco will get together at the end, but it WILL cause some
controversy. I plan on booking a trip to a nice place where I won't be hunted down by angry
fans.
**Anonymous**- Yes, Ginny and Draco will be in a romantic relationship.
**CelestialDragonX**- In truth, I've seen a ton of stories using the nicknames that I used
for Draco and Blaise. I just thought that I'd keep up with the little tradition of using
them.
**Andrea**- (Warning: Monster response for her monster review) There was lots to reply to, but
in a good way! Anywho, Andrea: where have you've been? I've missed your encouraging
reviews! Ok. Now that that's over...all is forgiven. I notice that some people kind of go back
to this story after awhile, so you're not the only one. Yeah, the next time we see Ginny with
Draco is chapter 8, but don't worry, you won't have to wait too long for it. Nope,
everything you're reading into is pretty accurate. Don't fret; Ginny WILL see Antonio a
couple more times (she kinda has to...and yeah. Anything else will give away the plot ; D) I think
the general concensus of those who have read ch. 5 & 6 is that Blaise's mom it too cool.
Everyone loves her. At first, I was a little weary with her, but she grew on me. Yes, yes. Draco
CAN recieve visitors. Remember ch. 2?...-takes Andrea to Dept. of Backstory- Draco mentions that
Narcissa visited him over Christmas hols. And no, his friends have not given up on him. You'll
see that as we near the end. -smirks evilly- Aww...but your nagging is all in good fun and filled
with words of encouragement! -pouts-

Additional thanks to: **kissedinfairytales**, **Anonymous**, **REW**. Thank you to
everyone who reviewed. You guys are amazing!

Next Chapter: The day after Narcissa's party. Ginny visits Draco and learns some rather
interesting things.



8. Going Under
--------------

**A/N-** Since I did not do the 2-for-1 update with ch. 7, I made sure I updated rather
quickly. I hope this is quick enough for you all. Also, we see one of Draco's little habits in
this chapter. Enjoy!



Chapter 8- Going Under

Ginny woke up the morning after Narcissa’s birthday gala with a blistering headache and on the
floor.

*How the hell did that happen?* she wondered as she sat up, running a hand through her hair.
Or at least she tried to run her hand through her hair. She stopped halfway, realizing that her
hairstyle from last night was still intact. Ginny glanced down to see if she had slept in her
dress. When she saw that she did, she let out a groan accompanied by a smack to her forehead.

*I can’t believe I slept in my dress. I wasn’t even drunk*, Ginny thought as she clamped a
hand onto the side of her bed in an attempt to pull herself to her feet.

Ginny looked at her bed, comforter-less since it was currently on the floor at her feet, but
nonetheless, there definitely something underneath the sheets. She poked it, but it didn’t budge.
After she tried poking it a couple more times, Ginny yanked the sheets off. What she saw was Alise,
still fully clad in her eveningwear from last night, completely oblivious to the lack of covers
around her.

“How the fuck do you get the bed, but I end up on the floor; especially when it’s my fucking bed?!”
Ginny yelled, causing Alise to bolt up in Ginny’s bed.

“What? Did I miss anything?” Alise asked, bewildered with her hair in complete disarray.

“No, no you didn’t,” Ginny answered sullenly.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Well, how is it that I end up on the floor, while you’re fast asleep on my bed when I clearly
remember falling asleep on my bed?”

“I don’t know, Ginny. Did it ever occur to you that maybe you rolled off the bed?”

“Oh, like that’ll ever happen,” Ginny replied, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, I’m just saying it could’ve happened,” Alise said, holding up her hands in surrender.

“Yeah, whatever,” Ginny said as she grabbed a white tank, a teal velvet cropped jacket and a pair
of brown trousers to change into.

“What are you doing?”

“First, I’m going to change out this dress. Then, I’m going to make myself either breakfast or
lunch, depending on the time. After I’m done with eating, I’m going to the office. Care to join
me?”

“For what? The food or the office?”

“Either or.”

“The food, yes. The office part, no.”

“Why not, Alise?”

“Ginny, it’s a Sunday, I feel like I have a fucking hangover and besides, I want to write to Blaise
today.”

“Still holding strong on our deal, I see.”

“You betcha. And pardon me for asking, but why are you going to the office?”

“Something Sophia mentioned last night about Draco and people’s past afflictions. I wasn’t sure
whom exactly she was talking about, besides Draco, of course, but I think I figured out who they
are,” Ginny replied as she walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

“You know, Gin, if it weren’t for the fact that you hate him so much, I would say that you have a
thing for Draco,” Alise said with a smirk.
Ginny’s head peaked out of the bathroom door within three seconds of hearing Alise.

“Alise Catherine Martin, you so much as think that again and I’ll perform the Killing Curse on you
faster than you can say ‘Quidditch’,” Ginny spoke with a glare.

“Quidditch,” Alise drawled, smirk still firmly in place.

“I’m serious, Alise. The sheer idea of me being in love with Draco is insane and you know it,”
Ginny said, closing the bathroom door once again.

“Whatever you say, Ginny. Whatever you say.”

* * * * * * * * *

“Are you sure that you don’t want to come to the office?”

“Yes, I’m absolutely certain that I don’t want to spend my entire day cooped up in *your*
office.”

“But I won’t spend the entire day in my office. Look, its ten o’clock right now. The latest I’ll be
in there is one.”

“Hell no, Ginny. I know you and I know that you’ll get so wrapped up in what you’re doing that
you’ll end up staying there hours later than you’ve planned.”

“I promise I won’t if you come with me,” Ginny begged.

“No, Ginny! I plan on not having to worry about mental patients this Sunday and that’s final!”
Alise stated, Apparating before Ginny had a chance to respond.

Ginny huffed at Alise’s rather rude exit from her flat, but Apparated herself to St. Mungo’s.

* * * * * * * * *

Ginny entered her office and found his file on her desk.

She grabbed it, along with a few sheets of parchment and a Never-Ending Self-Inking Quill, and
left, making her way towards his ward.

When she entered his cell, she found him sitting on his cot, legs crossed, reading that day’s copy
of the Daily Prophet.

Ginny conjured her customary red cushioned chair and plopped down in front of him.

“Have fun at my mum’s birthday party?” Draco asked, never once looking up at Ginny.

“How do you know I was even there?”

In response, Draco handed Ginny the newspaper, turned to page six, the society page. As she glanced
at the paper, Ginny saw a small list of names of those who attended the party. To her surprise, the
Prophet deemed her popular and high-class enough to be listed. *Ah. Behold the benefits of being
employed by Narcissa Malfoy, er, Black.*

“By the way, how *did* my Italian bastard of a cousin, Antonio, treat you?”

Ginny sputtered at this, looking at Draco, who motioned to the paper with an “It’s all in the
Prophet, Good Doctor.”

Ginny skimmed the rest of the page, her eyes landing on a small blurb, accompanied by a photo,
about her and Antonio dancing, followed by her meeting Sophia. Sighing, she handed the paper back
to Draco.

“So I take it that you’re *not* going to tell me about the party?”

“That would be a definite NO.”

“Then tell me, Weasley, what did you come here for?” Draco asked, finally looking up at
Ginny.

“I came here to ask you some questions, Draco.”

“Aren’t they always questions, Ginevra?”

“Yes, they are, but this time I’m not going to be asking you about your childhood or Hogwarts. What
I want to talk to you about are events that have happened in the past two years.”

“Well, Weasley, you’re shit out of luck in that department because there isn’t much to talk
about.”

“And that, my dear Mr. Malfoy, is where I believe you are wrong.”

“And how is that, *Doctor Weasley*?”

“I want you to tell me about your other psychologists.”

In the next few moments that passed, Draco froze, unsure of what to say. Ginny knew she had him;
she didn’t know how exactly, but she knew that she had finally struck a chord deep within this
young man’s psyche.

Finally, after five minutes of dead quiet, Draco spoke.

“Weasley, Weasley, Weasley. You know as well as I do that Draco can’t reveal information like that
to you.”

*Damn*, Ginny thought with a slight wince. *I thought we had gotten past the whole speaking
in the third person thing.*

“But, Draco, this is really important to me. Your Aunt Sophia won’t tell me anything about it, so I
thought that maybe you could.”
“Well, whatever Draco’s Aunt Sophia felt like withholding from you, she did for a very good
reason.”

“No, she was about to tell me, but decided not to. I was hoping that you could tell me, Draco, but
seeing as you don’t want to cooperate, then maybe I should go,” Ginny said, preparing to
leave.

“Wait! Draco will tell you some things, but only because he had a sudden lapse in his
sanity.”

*Since when was he sane?* Ginny thought sarcastically.

“Ok, Draco. I want you to tell me about your first psychologist. What was her name?”

“My first psychologist was named Andrea Lowe. She was twenty-eight at the time.”

“Tell me what she looked like, Draco.”

“Andrea had long, chocolate brown hair. She was fairly tall and too skinny for my liking. Although
she was too skinny, she was very attractive. I liked her; she was nice to me. Then, all of a
sudden, she was replaced by someone else.”

“Do you know what happened to Andrea?” Ginny asked, writing down what little information Draco had
given her.

“All Mother said to me was that Andrea got into an accident of some kind.”

“Ok. Now, who was your next psychologist?”

“Her name was Catalin Voslovik. She was originally from the Ukraine, but she spoke perfect English.
Catalin reminded me of a ballerina. Her blonde hair was always pulled back into a bun and she wore
black framed glasses.”

“What happened to Catalin?”

“She went back to the Ukraine to take care of an ailing relative.”

Ginny scribbled down the information, motioning for Draco to continue.

“My third psychologist was Alana Murphy. She was my favourite so far. I always like the way her
black hair looked almost blue in the bright light of my cell. Alana was also the prettiest, too. I
was upset when she quit because she was offered a better job. After Alana came Beatrix Walker.
Beatrix annoyed me too much. She was always asking the most obvious questions and it seemed like
she didn’t know what she was doing. She wasn’t even that attractive; her hair was this ghastly
shade of brown and she tried to cover whatever facial flaws she had with excessive Glamours. I was
all too happy when she decided to go back to America. Following Beatirx was Natasha Atkinson.
Natasha reminds me of you, Weasley; red-headed, temperamental and head-strong. But she was pretty
good. But I don’t think she got on well enough with mother. For some odd reason, I don’t remember
whatever happened to Natasha. Is this what you were looking for?” Draco asked hopefully.

“Yes, Draco. You are doing wonderfully. Now, please continue.”

Draco smiled like a child who had been congratulated for a good grade.

“Natasha was the last of the half-way decent ones before you came along. Natasha was succeeded by
Lauren Daniels. Yuck. I didn’t like her; she was mean, nasty, ugly and not to mention horrible
psychologist. I hope I never have to see her again. After Lauren was Kristen McMillan. Kristen
was…hmm…that’s odd. I really don’t remember that much about Kristen. Next was Lily Collinsworth.
But I think Lily was really meant to be temporary in that she was using me for her final. She told
me that she would promise to visit me since I liked her, but she never did come back. I know I had
two other psychologists before you, Weasley, but their names escape me at the moment. If you really
want to know who they are, ask Mother. Is that all?” Draco finished in a slightly bored tone.

Ginny finished writing down everything that Draco had just relayed to her before looking up.

She glanced up with a sigh, placing the quill in her lap and folded her hands.

“Yes, Draco, that is all. I didn’t expect you to be as cooperative as you were, especially with the
way we started off this meeting, but you were and I thank you. You have done an excellent job
today.” With that, Ginny vanished her customary chair, gathered her things and headed for the
door.

“Weasley?” Draco asked quietly.

“Yes, Draco?” Ginny replied, turning around.

“Why did you want to know about my other psychologists? You mentioned something about my Aunt
Sophia and not telling you something about them, but why do you want to know about them?” Draco
asked as if he just recovered from a bout of amnesia.

“I’m not sure of the exact reason now, but I have a feeling that by knowing who they are will
answer some questions for me.”
“What kind of questions?”

“Now that, Draco, is for me to know and for you to never find out,” Ginny sang as she left Draco’s
cell.

* * * * * * * * *

Ginny got back into her office and laid Draco’s file, along with the notes she had taken on her
desk with a plop.

She walked behind the desk, taking a seat in the black leather office chair. She leaned back in the
chair, pushing her legs to the left in order to the make chair spin. For some odd reason, the
momentum and the act of spinning around in a chair helped her think, mull over the events of the
past hour and a half with Draco. To say it had been interesting would be an understatement. In all
actuality, she hadn’t expected him to cooperate and she wouldn’t expect him to. He did, though, and
Ginny was certainly thankful for it.

In a perfect world, all Ginny would have to do is approach Narcissa for information, but seeing
that she didn’t tell Ginny from the beginning about the “others,” chances were that Narcissa wasn’t
going to tell anytime soon.

Of course she could always check with St. Mungo’s. Ginny remembered that when she was employed by
the hospital, they asked for a resume and made a background check that would be placed in a file.
She wasn’t exactly sure why St. Mungo’s would need a file on an employee, but she assumed it was
for reference reasons. In any case, she might be able to get a few of the other psychologists’
profiles. Ginny was almost positive that she could retrieve them of her own accord, but if her
motives were questioned, she could always mention Draco and something about research. Yes, that
would do quite nicely.

Finished sorting through her thoughts and feeling thoroughly dizzy, Ginny stopped the chair
abruptly and attempted to stand. Still feeling slightly disoriented, Ginny spun to the right, a
trick Molly Weasley taught her from her younger years. Orientation regained, Ginny opened the
briefcase on her desk and grabbed her notes from today’s session. She placed the notes inside,
along with Draco’s profile and closed the leather case. Grasping the handle and picking up her
handbag from off the floor, she made her way to door. She opened the door, turning around to give
her office a once over before leaving. Seeing that the room was secure, Ginny flicked off the light
switch and closed the door, locking it before exiting the hospital.

* * * * * * * * *

Upon Apparating into her flat, Ginny found it devoid of anything that even suggested that Alise had
spent the night.

Everything was rather clean and orderly. The dishes in the kitchen sink had been cleaned and put
away and when she walked into her bedroom, she saw that it had been cleaned. The bed was made, the
mess she had made in her bathroom gone and her dress now hung neatly in her closet.

Ginny made her way back to the small dining area, placing her briefcase and handbag on the
table.

Glancing down she saw a piece of folded parchment bearing her name. A note. From whom, though?
Ginny picked up the note recognizing Alise’s curved script forming her name.

She opened the piece of parchment, reading it through.

*Gin-

I took it upon myself to clean up your flat. It gave me something to do and I wanted to do it as
thanks for your ever-wonderful hospitality. Just to let you know, I wanted to wait until you got
back before writing to Blaise. I’m not exactly sure why, but I wanted to. Maybe we can write at the
same time. Anyways, hope your session was productive and floo me when you get back. I’ll be at
home.

Thanks again for letting me stay.

-Alise*

Ginny was pleasantly surprised to say the least. She would have cleaned up the flat herself, but
Alise beat her to it and she was grateful for it. Like Alise, she wasn’t exactly sure Alise wanted
to wait until she was in her presence to write to Blaise, but she did like her next idea. It might
be kind of cute if she wrote to Antonio while Alise wrote to Blaise. They could get ideas from each
other and knowing Alise, that’s probably what she had in mind. Maybe they could also figure out a
time when the four of them could meet. That might work. She’d have to tell Alise about that.

In the meantime, Ginny flooed Alise to let her know that she’d be there in a few minutes.

Making sure that she looked halfway decent, Ginny grabbed her handbag and Apparated to Alise’s
flat.

* * * * * * * * *

“Alise!” Ginny called out as she entered her friend’s flat with a pop.

“I’m in the office!” came Alise’s response.

“Since when do you have a home office?” Ginny asked, walking down the hallway that Alise’s voice
seemed to be coming from.

“I converted that second spare bedroom so I could put all my stuff from work in one place at home
unlike someone else I could mention.”

“Now you wouldn’t be talking about me?” Ginny said, finally finding Alise’s “office”.

“Oh, there you are,” Alise spoke, turning around to face Ginny.

“Here I am.”

“Well, don’t just stand in the doorway, smirking like some red-headed female version of Draco; come
in!”

“Alise, remember what I told you…” Ginny said with a bit of a growl.

“Right. Sorry. Forget I even said it,” Alise said in surrender.

“Now what’s all this nonsense about you wanting to wait until I was with you to write to Blaise?
You really don’t need my help.”

“I know. I know. I just thought it would be fun if we both wrote to our respective prospects at the
same time. You must have figured that. Come on, Ginny. You should know me by now.”

“True, I did think of that, but I though that you wanted me to be here for some other reason. No
matter. Oh, I was thinking that maybe we could figure out a day when the four of us could go out.
You know, like a double date.”

“Sounds like a good idea. I’ll mention it in my letter. By the way, how did your session with
‘You-Know-Who’ go?”

“His name is Draco.”

“I know that, but every time I’ve said his name lately you have a conniption.”

“That’s only because you make it seem like I’m in love with him, which is utterly ridiculous. That
aside, my session with Draco was rather productive.”

“Good to hear,” Alise said with a nod of her head.

A few seconds passed before Ginny spoke again.

“You’re stalling aren’t you?”

“Am I really that obvious, Ginny?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Damn. Alright then, hand me a sheet of parchment,” Alise commanded, reaching for two quills.

“Here you go,” Ginny said, trading a piece of parchment for a quill from Alise.

“Well, here goes nothing,” Alise sighed.

*Dear Blaise…

Dear Antonio…*



**A/N-** Thanks to Angel, my beta. That was loads of fun! Wasn't it, kiddos? Does this
answer the question that everyone's had on their minds since ch. 6? I know that Draco was
rather vague about the psychologist descriptions, but we don't get full -for some of them at
least- until ch. 9 for some and the rest, 10. Regarding the reviews that I've been getting: If
you ask me a question in the review or just review in general, I **WILL** answer your review.
The next time you read the story, just look back to see if I answered your review. Most of the time
I do. If you ask a question that a bunch of other people have asked (like the one about who Sophia
was talking about at Narcissa's party), then I will answer it in the author's notes of the
next chapter. For now, just check your past reviews.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed; you guys rock on many levels. Please review this chapter if you
see fit to do so. I love feedback!

**Next Chapter**: What I like to call the "Letter Chapter". Ch. 9 is composed entirely
of letters. Luna, Sophia, Blaise, Antonio and everybody's favorite mom, Saphira make
appearances in letter form. Also, Narcissa in denial. It's gonna be a good one. :)



9. Words So Leisured
--------------------

**A/N-** I know. I know. Bad Alexandria. I've been away for a while, I know. I blame
writer's block and I'm sure most of you know how aggrivating that is. Anyways, I'm back
with the letter chapter, which I'm sure will recieve loads of questions as my beta had a list
of them when she emailed me back regarding this chapter.



Chapter 9- Words So Leisured

Sunday, 16 January 2004

Dear Blaise,

It’s me, Alise, the girl you met at Narcissa’s birthday party. I know it may seem a bit too soon to
be writing to you; after all, it’s only the day after the party, but I couldn’t help it. It’s nice
to get a letter every now and then. Makes you feel deserving, wanted.

Anyways, I was talking to Ginny (as in Weasley) this afternoon and she came up with an idea. I’m
wondering, as I’m sure you are too, when we might see each other again. Ginny has caught the
attention of Draco’s Italian cousin (and look-alike), Antonio, so she thought that maybe we could
go on a group date. I was thinking about clubbing because I’m not sure if I could handle a nice
restaurant with another couple. To me, places like that are better for just a night out with your
partner. It seems like too private an atmosphere to be sharing with more than one person.

I sincerely hope that made sense. The concept is rather hard to explain on paper.

I also wanted to say that I loved spending time with you at the party, part of the reason why I
wrote; just to hear from you.

Please let me know if you’d be willing to do the group date thing and what day would be most
convenient for you.

Tell your mother I say hello!

-Alise


Dear Antonio,

First off, how are things with you and your mother? I hope that all is well and good. I do realize
that it’s rather early to be hearing from me; I mean, it’s only the day after Narcissa’s party, but
I do have a good reason behind it! You see, my friend, Alise, wanted to write to Blaise Zabini (you
do know who he is, right?) and she thought I should write to you today as well, but I thought it
was too soon and yeah. It’s this whole long story. To sum it up, we agreed to write as long as we
did it together.

Now my very good and valid reason for writing to you was to see if you would like to get together
sometime soon? I thought it would be fun if you, me, Alise and Blaise went on a little group date.
Alise suggested going to a club. I like the idea of it unless you have something else in mind. If
you’re interested that would be amazing, just let me know what day.

Hope to hear from you soon!

-Ginny


Luna,

I know you’re better acquainted with St. Mungo’s policies, so that’s what I’m asking you. Anyways,
do you know if I would be able to retrieve the profiles of past employees?

Thanks,
Ginny


Ginny, m’dear,

No. Since you work as a mostly freelance employee, you can’t. I know the hospital has a profile on
you, but you don’t “technically” work for St. Mungo’s. According to the hospital, your full-time
employer is Azkaban prison, well the “new” one at least. Hope that answers your question. By the
way, how was Narcissa’s party?

-Luna

* * * * * * * * * *

Tuesday, 18 January 2004

Cissa,

Would you mind explaining to me your behaviour at *your own birthday party*? Sorry for being
so blunt, but I couldn’t think of another way of phrasing it.

-Sophia


Pansy,

Was it just me, or was Narcissa a little off at her party?

-Saphira


Lovely Luna,

Sorry I couldn’t write back sooner, but you know how busy I am. Anyways, there really is no way for
me to get those profiles? Damn. Wait! Can you get them for me? Narcissa’s party was fine. Filled
with rich snobs, of course. I did meet someone, though…

-Ginny


Saphira,

Thank God I wasn’t the only one who noticed. At one point she was speaking with me, but she seemed
like she was off in some little Draco-filled world of hers. Oh, please, don’t give me that,
Saphira. You know as well as I do that she was thinking about him. If one didn’t know better, you
could have sworn that Draco was something akin to her husband, not her son.

-Pansy

* * * * * * * * * *

Wednesday, 19 January 2004

Alise,

It was certainly great to hear from you. I have to agree with you; getting a letter does make one
feel wanted.

I’m terribly sorry that I did not respond sooner, but I’m sure you know what it’s like to have a
hectic work schedule. As to going out with the three of you, I think it would be quite an
experience. I haven’t seen the little Firebrand in what seems like ages and I’m interested in
seeing if Antonio has anything else in common with Draco besides looks. And yes, your concept
translated beautifully to paper.

I also enjoyed your company at the party. In all actuality, I was planning on writing to you later
on in the week, but alas, you beat me to it.

My mother sends her regards as well. She was pleasantly surprised when I told her. It was rather
funny. She became all flustered because she thought that she made a bad impression and scared you
away. She got pissed because I started laughing at her reaction. I’m sure she’ll get over her anger
eventually.

Oh, and not this coming Friday, but the next, the 28th I believe, works for me.

-Blaise


Ginevra Molly Weasley,

You will die a most painful death if you do not tell me who you met, like, right now! I can’t
believe that you didn’t tell me sooner! For shame, Ginny. For shame. And although I am thoroughly
pissed at you, I shall do my good deed for the day and get you those profiles. Just give me the
names.

-“She-Who-Is-Annoyed-With-Her-Best-Friend” (Luna)

* * * * * * * * * *

Thursday, 20 January 2004

Sophia,

I have no idea what you are talking about. I was perfectly fine.

-Narcissa


Ginny,

It’s great to hear from you! I was in Rome for a few days before returning home or else I would
have responded earlier. My mother is fine. In fact she kept bugging me about your letter. *“When
are you going to reply, Antonio?” “Ginevra is such a nice girl.” “I would love to see her
again"* and things of that nature. She failed to over look the fact that she still had said
letter at home in Florence while I was in Rome on business. Besides, business tales a good letter
does not make.

How are things with you in England? I hope my cousin isn’t causing too much trouble for you. It
would be great to see you again and I wouldn’t mind going with another couple. A club is perfectly
fine and I’m free next weekend. Just let me know when and were exactly.

My mother thanks you “for taking the initiative to owl” me. Her words, not mine.

-Antonio


Luna,

I completely forgot about it when I wrote to you the first time! I am so sorry! If it makes you
feel any better, your letter was guilt-trip worthy and proceeded to work its magic on me. Anyways,
his name is Antonio and he is an Italian half-blood. He’s really sweet, the perfect gentleman and
absolutely gorgeous! I’m telling you, Luna, I got lucky when I literally landed into his arms! And
I’m very thankful for your daily good deed.

Here are the names:

Andrea Lowe
Catalin Voslovik
Alana Murphy
Beatrix Walker
Natasha Atkinson
Lauren Daniels
Kristen McMillan
And I don’t know if they’ll have her on file, but Lily Collinsworth as well.

Also, Draco mentioned two others, but he didn’t remember their names. Do you think you could find
out who those other two are? Or let me know if I can? Thanks again, Lu. You are a lifesaver!

-“She-Who-Is-So-Sorry” (Ginny)


Dear Professor Upland,

I know that we haven’t communicated in well over two years, but I wanted to ask you a
question.

As I’m sure you may know, my latest patient is Draco Malfoy and just recently, he revealed some
information about his previous psychologists. One of the names he mentioned was Lily Collinsworth.
I’m not exactly sure if she was ever a student of yours, but if she was, then you can be of great
assistance to my case. Thank you in advance and I hope all is going well.

Sincerely,
Ginny Weasley


Narcissa,

I am starting to become rather worried about you. I know that Draco’s incarceration as well as his
condition hit you hard, but don’t forget I was affected by it as well. I have known him and your
family since I was a small child and was almost betrothed to him at one point, so I have an idea of
what you might be going through. But, Narcissa, it’s been over two years since his move to St.
Mungo’s. Sulking around your own birthday party and not enjoying yourself will not help his
situation at all. I’m sure that Ginny Weasley is doing her very best to help him out. She’d one of
the best in the business and I hear that she’s making progress with Draco. Mental recovery takes
quite sometime, not days, Narcissa.

I know that Sophia has already written to you and Saphira is planning on doing so if you continue
this behaviour. You’re like a second mother to me, Narcissa. Please don’t waste your life away
because you cannot accept your son’s mental state. I’m sure Draco wouldn’t be too pleased if he
found out that you actually were.

-Pansy


Dear Ginny,

Well, it is certainly lovely to hear from you! I’ve heard quite a bit of news about you and your
recent patient. No one can figure out what’s wrong with the poor boy, but you are determined to do
just that. I’m glad that you followed my advice. Your talent is being put to very good use with
Draco.

Now as to your letter, I do believe that I had a Lily Collinsworth in one of my classes about a
year or so before I had you. Lily was a bright girl; she had a great amount of potential. I know
that she did in fact use Draco Malfoy for her final about eight months before you took him as a
patient.

I can’t retrieve a copy of her final paper right now, but if you wouldn’t mind the trip, you can
come to my office at the college sometime next week and I’ll have it for you then.

Sincerely,
Prof. Glinda Chuffery nee Upland,
Professor of Psychology


Blaise,

You have no idea how excited I was to receive your letter! It just made my day and your mother’s
reaction was absolutely priceless.

I discussed the whole date with Ginny and the day that you suggested works for her as well. I’m not
exactly sure which type of club to go to. After all, we can go to either a Muggle or a Wizarding
club; it’s up to you and/or Ginny. Well, technically it’d be up to you since Ginny is too damn
indecisive.

And I will pardon the lateness of your response. The fact that you replied at all is a good
sign.

-Alise

* * * * * * * * * *

Friday, 21 January 2004

Ginny,

Here are the profiles. I was unable to get Lily Collinsworth’s profile, so you might have to work
harder for information on her. If you haven’t already (and knowing you, you already have), check
her college for information.

Anyways, I was going through some of the profiles at random and wow. Ginny, if there is one piece
of advice I am to implore upon you it is this: please, please be careful around Malfoy. You have no
idea what I heard happened to some of these girls because of him. You’re my best friend; I don’t
want to lose you to him.

Now, as to your little boy toy (oh hush; it’s not a bad thing), I’m waiting for the day when I can
meet him. He does sound very lovely, indeed. You know that I shall expect a lunch date with you so
we can discuss this “Antonio” more. And I forgive you and your forgetful ways. I understand what
it’s like to be completely anal retentive when it comes to your profession. I was like that in
Healer school and I still am.

Glad to put my services to good use.

Always and forever,
Your “Lovely Luna”


Antonio,

It’s ok that you didn’t respond right away; I know what it’s like to be busy and I will admit that
I “jumped the gun” a bit. And tell your mother that I adore her compliments, but how did she expect
you to reply when she still had the letter?

Things are quite peachy for me in little old England. Like I stated previously, I’m busy, but it
comes with my job. I’m used to it by now. As to the group outing, Blaise suggested next Friday, the
28th. We’re not sure of the place yet, but I’ll let you know soon enough. Hey, if there are any
brilliant clubs in Italy, don’t be afraid to suggest them.

-Ginny


Dear Professor Chuffery,

I see that someone got married in my two year absence. That’s wonderful, Professor! I wish you and
your husband a long and prosperous marriage.

Thank you so much for your help! If it’s not too much of an inconvenience, I’ll try to stop by on
Tuesday, the 25th. Thanks again!

Sincerely,
Ginny Weasley


Saphira,

I’ve written to Narcissa and she hasn’t responded yet. I’m going to visit Draco.

-Pansy



**A/N-** Thanks to Angel, my lovely beta. I know it wasn't too terribly long, but this
chapter was never meant to be something akin to chapter 5 or longer in length. In fact, I do
believe that it is shorter than chapter 4. Also, if you reviewed, I have answered it. Like I said
with the last chapter, check any past reviews you may have made for a response to any of your
questions. And I know not many of you may have noticed, but I have this little tendancy of naming
chapters after songs. Not all of them, but most. Just a little thought for you guys. :D As always,
be a dear and review. It's the equivalent of Chicken Noodle Soup and will help me fight the
massive cold I have. ;D

**Next chapter**: Draco has a visitor, Luna and Ginny schedule that little lunch date and Ginny
reads some of those profiles...It shall be fun. :)



10. Catalyst
------------

**A/N-** Again, I know that I haven't updated in quite a while, but if you read my latest
one shot, "The Blower's Daughter," I do say that this chapter was being a pain. Now
as to the story, you might get confused in this chapter, you will have questions, and of course, I
shall try my best to answer them in the vague way that I do. ;D



Chapter 10- Catalyst

“Name?”

“Pansy Parkinson.”

“Visiting?”

“Draco Malfoy.”

“Do you have proper clearance?”

“What does the note say?”

“Ah, yes. Sorry, miss; I didn’t see Mr. Zabini’s signature. Here’s your visitor’s pass.”

“Thank you.”

The guard gave Pansy a curt nod as she passed through the double doors, grabbing the note from
Blaise as she did so.

She couldn’t help but smirk at how she got Blaise to sign off for her clearance. She loved the man
like a brother, but he was a tool. Period. It wasn’t that Blaise was not intelligent, because he
was, but if one were to give him a paper and ask him to sign off on something like, oh, say, a
petition asking for better wages for those working in his department, the Department of Magical Law
Enforcement, he would do it without a moment’s hesitation. As long as it’d advance him in the
Ministry or make it seem like he’s the better man, he’ll do it. So Pansy took her little request
form over to Blaise’s office with that same idea in mind and Blaise signed it, not even noticing
what he was signing off on.

It felt good to have connections.

But to say the least, Pansy was initially shocked when she heard that Blaise was attempting to
court one of the psychologists at St. Mungo’s. For a while, one of Zabini’s main priorities was
trying to fuck any new intern that entered his department, or even the Ministry for that matter.
Pansy only had one thought on the matter: *May God have mercy on the poor girl’s soul.*

But she didn’t decide to get off her arse and visit Draco because of Blaise. Oh no. Nor was she
visiting his Royal Bastardness because of Weasley. In fact, Pansy came to respect the red-headed
witch in her efforts to help Draco. Turns out Ginny Weasley wasn’t as bad as she thought she
was.

Pansy started to slow down her step; she would be at Draco’s cell soon enough. Thinking back, she
realized that she hadn’t visited Draco since last summer and on a whim at that. In her mind, she
felt the little arse hole was biding his time until some stupid bint came along and deem him
clinically sane. And he came close, several times, in fact, but that Ginny Weasley wasn’t one of
those “stupid bints.”

She paused in front of Draco’s cell, observing her once best friend. He was laying back-down on his
cot, his butt inches away from the wall, while his long legs rested on said wall, crossed. He
couldn’t see Pansy thanks to his angle and she was thankful for that; she wanted the advantage when
she entered. She heard a faint whistle from within and figured it was Draco’s doing.

Pansy looked down at the guard on duty, a small, balding man, who was currently asleep in a
fold-out chair near the door of Draco’s cell.

*It’s a wonder Draco hasn’t escaped*, Pansy thought with an eye roll.

She bent down and gently tapped the man on the shoulder, who awoke with a snort.

“Wh-what? What did I miss?”

He looked up to see Pansy and stood up at full attention. Pansy raised one perfectly crafted eye
brow before explaining why she woke the man.

“I’m terribly sorry for waking you, but I’m here to visit the prisoner you’re supposed to be
guarding. And if the pass dangling around my neck doesn’t rest your little troubled head, then yes,
I *do* have proper clearance.”

The guard squinted at the pass before doing an about-face in order to remove the wards around the
door of Draco’s cell.

With a whispered “thank you,” Pansy entered her friend’s cell.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ginny felt bad for Luna’s tawny barn owl. She really did. The poor creature was forced to carry all
seven profiles that Luna had unearthed from the records room at St. Mungo’s.

Upon seeing the owl struggling to maintain its height in front of the window to Ginny’s kitchen,
she let it in, watching it careen onto the small island in the middle. For a minute, she was
briefly reminded of the Weasley family owl, Errol.

Placing the knife she was holding on the granite countertop, she walked over, immediately freeing
the bird of its load. With a quick look over to see if it was fine, Ginny gave the owl a few treats
before sending it off.

On top of the stack of manila folders was a letter with Ginny’s name scribbled across it in Luna’s
familiar, looping handwriting. Ginny picked up the letter and tossed it to the side; she’d read it
later.

She was about to pick up the pile of files before remembering something with a snap of her
fingers.

She walked back over to the countertop where she had placed her knife and put it away, deciding to
order out that night instead of making herself dinner.

After placing a quick call to her friendly neighbourhood Japanese restaurant, Ginny gathered the
profiles and headed over to her living room, plopping herself on the large sofa. Her dinner
wouldn’t be at her door for another thirty minutes, so she had some time to kill.

Glancing at the name printed across the first profile, Andrea Lowe, Ginny flipped open the
folder.

* * * * * * * * * *

Pansy’s midnight black pumps echoed on the tile floor of Draco’s cell, causing the blond young man
to swing his legs around and sit up to look at his new visitor.

Draco got up with a smile, pleased to see someone other than his doctor.

“Why, Pansy, what a -”

*Crack!*

Within a span of five seconds, Pansy had reared her arm back and placed a perfectly executed slap
across Draco’s face with a lovely crack.

Instinct taking over, a thoroughly shocked Draco placed a hand to his stinging cheek, allowing the
sound of Pansy’s slap to reverberate before her decided to speak to his friend.

“Unholy fuck, woman! What in the bloody hell was that for?”

“You fuck around with your mother again and you’ll be begging Weasley to send you back to Azkaban,
you fucking arse hole.”

“What do you mean I fucked around with my mother? My mother is perfectly fine, not to mention sane,
you bloody bint.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t notice how depressed your mother has gotten lately? And don’t tell me
it’s because it’s getting close to the six year anniversary of Lucius’s death, because I sure as
hell know it’s not.”

“Depression? Pansy, my mother was quite happy the last time she visited.”

“That’s only because she was near you, but Draco, she’s been acting rather off lately.”

“More so than normal?”

“I’m serious, you idiot. I know Narcissa’s always been a bit aloof and at times eccentric, but you
should have seen her at her birthday party.”

“Why? What happened?”

“The entire night she behaved as if in a trance and no matter who she talked to, no one could pull
her out of it. She won’t talk to me, Saphira, or Sophia anymore and whenever someone mentions you,
she starts crying uncontrollably. You’ve done something to her, Draco, and I’ll be damned if I let
this shite continue.”

“Well, besides the fact that I’m her precious prodgeny, why does she care about *me* so much?
What about her sister, Aunt Bella? In case you haven’t noticed my dear Ms. Parkinson, Bella’s in
the same position as I am, mentally, at least.”

“You know, for a mentally unhinged patient, you do make a very valid point.”

“I do try,” Draco replied with a goofy smile.

“Well, now that we know that maybe your mother should sign up as Ginny’s next patient, how is the
little Firebrand treating you?”

“Very well, I must say. I believe that -”

Draco was cut off by an incessant tapping on the glass of his cell.

Pansy whipped her head around, causing the guard to jump. He signalled to her with a jerk of his
thumb towards the exit. She turned back to Draco with a pout.

“Oh, poo. I guess our little chat has come to an end. Just remember what I said about your mother,
Draco, and maybe I won’t slap you the next time I see you.”

In response, Draco saluted Pansy before she strode out of the cell.

*She’s clueless.*

* * * * * * * * *

Upon opening the file, Ginny was greeted with the picture of a smiling young woman. Her hair was,
just as Draco said, chocolate brown, except her long mane was currently pulled back into a loose
plait. And also as Draco had said, she was very pretty. As Ginny looked at the picture, a seemingly
friendly Andrea Lowe smiled and waved every now and then.

Ginny placed the photograph off to the side and picked up Andrea’s extensive file.

She was from your normal Irish Wizarding family, but because she was born a squib, she was never
able to attend Hogwarts much like her older brother, William, did. As a result, her parents put her
through the local school system and she went on to receive her psychology degree at the University
of Dublin. Four years after graduating, she was approached by the Board of Psychologists at St.
Mungo’s to join their staff. At the time of Draco’s transfer over to St. Mungo’s from Azkaban,
Andrea was assigned to various patients; often times juggling two or three at the same time.

Andrea was assigned to Draco by St. Mungo’s, not by Narcissa Black. About two months into her
assignment, observations were made by her colleagues regarding her behaviour and treatment of
Draco, citing that she didn’t treat him as a patient, but more like a “best mate;” a claim Andrea
vehemently refuted. Nonetheless, enough evidence of her treatment of Draco warranted an
investigation from the Board and the eventual discovery of…

“Hm. That’s odd,” Ginny said, looking at the parchment. Apparently, someone smudged out the
remaining portion of Andrea’s profile. Ginny could only make out the word “facility.”

Scratching the nape of her neck, Ginny placed the profile on the floor, grabbing the next
one.

The next one belonged to one Natasha Atkinson.

Ginny opened Natasha’s profile with a bit of a gasp. Draco wasn’t lying when he said that Ginny
looked like Natasha. Of course there were slight differences here and there in the eye colour, nose
and face shape, but the staples were there: the red hair, the smattering of freckles across the
bridge of her nose, even their smiles were eerily alike.

Shivering slightly, Ginny reluctantly placed the picture of a clearly confused Natasha to the side
and read the small profile.

Not much was known about Natasha by the St. Mungo’s staff. She was originally from Glasgow, but
moved to Belfast after dealing with problems within her family. She was a half-blood; her mother, a
Muggle and her father, a wizard. She went to a small university in the Belfast area to receive her
psychology degree and applied at St. Mungo’s as an intern some five months later. She came to be
Draco’s psychologist on recommendation of her mentor and his previous psychologist, Beatrix Walker.
She stayed on as his psychologist for six months until Narcissa Black intervened, dismissing her
from her job.

The official profile stopped there. But there was a side note at the bottom. The print was smaller
than that of the profile and Ginny nearly missed it. It was one line that read as such:

Natasha was last seen living in Liverpool.

*Well, there’s something*, Ginny thought as she heard a knock on the door.

Jumping off of the sofa, Ginny raced to the front door, Muggle money in hand, ready to eat.

She opened the door to see the usual delivery boy, a young man by the name of Jun Li, who was in
fact Chinese. Go figure.

“Hi, Jun,” Ginny greeted, handing him the money.

“Here you go, Ginny. Enjoy,” he replied, exchanging Ginny’s food for the money.

“You know I will,” she replied with a smile, closing the door.

* * * * * * * * *

Two hours, eight profiles and a snapper and tuna roll later, Ginny had nothing.

Absolutely, positively nothing.

The only two profiles that were of any importance were Andrea and Natasha’s and those barely had
anything to give.

*So much for those*, Ginny thought as she crawled into bed.

* * * * * * * * *

The next afternoon, Ginny found herself walking through the pristine halls of St. Mungo’s Trauma
ward.

Luckily, she didn’t have to work today and she was hoping to fulfil her end of her bargain with
Luna.

So dressed in a pair of dungarees with a crimson jumper, Ginny scanned the halls for Luna’s golden
mane.

Eventually, she found her, attending to a man with a massive arm wound, trying her best to console
the bleeding man.

Ginny carefully snuck up to Luna, trying her best not to alert the young Healer of her
presence.

“Excuse me, miss, but could you tell me where I can find the Healers’ station?” Ginny asked with a
smile.

Luna began to turn around, shouting out “Ginny!” once she realised who asked the question.

Luna wrapped the redhead in a big hug, grinning as she pulled away.

“It’s good to see you too, Lu. How are you?”

“I’m fine. Did those profiles -”

“Excuse me, miss? My arm?” the man interrupted.

Luna shot up her hand, palm facing the man, indicating for him to cease his complaining.

“I’m so sorry, Ginny. As I was saying, I was wondering if those profiles were of any help.”

“Only two of them and even those weren’t all too helpful.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was hoping they would be. So, what are you in here for?”

“Well, I was thinking that maybe we could have our little lunch get together today.”

“Great! My lunch break starts right about now,” Luna replied, grabbing Ginny by the arm and leading
her towards the ward’s exit.

“Miss! Please, miss! I still need help here!” Luna’s patient screamed out.

Luna turned around, smacking the palm of her hand to her forehead.

“Oh, right. I forgot all about him.”

Luna scanned the ward before shouting out, “Hey, Simpson! Can you take care of this man for me?” To
which a young woman with jet black hair nodded and scurried over to the annoyed patient.

Luna turned around to Ginny with a smile.

“I’m ready.”

* * * * * * * * *

Ginny and Luna strolled along the streets of Diagon Alley, attempting to make a decision as to
where they should have lunch.

After about ten minutes of arguing, the two stopped once they reached the entrance of a small,
hole-in-the-wall tea shop. The painted, Arabic-style letters on the front window read “Mystique”
with a slender crescent moon and a smattering of stars bordering the “M”.

Ginny and Luna stepped inside, instantly feeling several degrees warmer, despite the lack of
multiple fireplaces, like many restaurants normally have.

A hostess, dressed in blues and violets, sat the pair at a table near the front, placing two menus
before them with a smile.

The place had an old world, Moroccan feel about it. Heavy silk tapestries scattered about, sheer
patterned cotton as table cloths, plush pillows instead of chairs and brass chandeliers hung low
over every table. Ginny and Luna decided it was a nice change from the high-scale eateries that
were beginning to pop-up all over wizarding England.

After receiving their tea and a few cakes as a starter, Luna decided to begin her
questioning.

“So, Ginny, care to tell me about this “Antonio” that you met while at Narcissa’s party?” Luna
asked before taking a sip of her tea.

Ginny, who was in the middle of taking a sip of *her* tea, choked and sputtered in surprise at
Luna’s cut-to-the-chase attitude regarding Antonio, before setting her cup down. She stared at it
for a while, trying to formulate a proper description of Antonio. With a sigh, she looked up at
Luna, who was staring at her with a blank look.

“Well, Antonio is…the thing about how I met him is that…huh,” Ginny finished rather dully.

“Is anything wrong?” Luna asked rather pointedly.

“As weird as this may sound, I feel slightly uncomfortable talking about him.”

“That *is* peculiar,” Luna replied, stirring her tea.

“I know, but I have this nagging feeling that it’s almost subliminal in a way. As if me falling for
him signifies something bigger, something unthinkable. And each time I get close to feeling as
though I know what it is, who I’m really falling for, I’m eluded once more.”

“Well, tell me how you two met and we’ll go from there,” Luna suggested.

“Okay. When I was at the party, I was walking over to the bar when I bumped into him. I
back-pedalled onto something and the next thing I knew, I was falling to the ground. Luckily,
Antonio caught me in his arms. He righted me with a smile and introduced himself. I remember he had
his hair slicked back and he was wearing black dress robes.”

“What does he look like?”

“Oh! Right. He was platinum blond, I would say about ear-length, hair and chocolate brown eyes.
He’s a little pasty for an Italian, but then again so’s his mum, Sophia. He’s also tall and
extremely well-built; muscular, but not overly so. Just a nice, happy medium. He’s a perfect
gentleman and a great conversationalist.”

“Sounds divine,” Luna said with a smile.

Ginny chuckled a bit. “I guess he is. You’d like him, Lu.”

“Now how about those profiles…” Luna started.

“Eh…those profiles are the bane of my existence right now. The only ones that were of any help were
Andrea Lowe’s and Natasha Atkinson’s, Natasha’s being the only one that actually gave me a
location. It’s so aggravating.”

“I wouldn’t dwell on it too much, Ginny. You already put all of your heart and soul into working on
Malfoy’s case. I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt him, or you for that matter, if you weren’t so anal
retentive.”

“I guess you’re right. But all I want is to just figure out exactly what his problem is, even if I
do work too hard.”

“I know you do, Ginny; it’s in your nature. But even you deserve a bit of time for yourself as
well. Do you have any plans for this weekend?”

“I *do* have a date this Friday with Antonio. Blaise and Alise are coming as well.”

“There you go! I suggest you take the day off and do something in preparation for your fate with
Antonio. And speaking of Blaise, tell the little prick I say hello.”

“Will do. By the by, since when have you become a therapist?”

“I get it honest, m’dear,” Luna said with a smile and a nod to Ginny.



**A/N-** Again, any questions, review! Thanks to Angel. I'd also like to thank everyone who
has read and subsequently reviewed, sometimes just to get me to update! I really appreciate it.
:D

**Next Chapter:** Ginny meets with Professor Chuffery nee Upland, Ginny and Alise's date, as
well as why Luna called Blaise a "prick". It shall be fun.



11. Get Together
----------------

**A/N-** I realise that this is one of, if not the cheesiest chapter this story will have. It
had to be done though. I also tried not writing it exclusively in my ASotM notebook and just typed
up the whole thing on the computer instead of transferring it over like I normally do.



Chapter 11- Get Together

Tuesday, 25 January 2004

*Knock. Knock.*

“You may enter.”

“Professor?”

Professor Glinda Upland, now Chuffery, turned around in her office chair to see who entered.

“Ginny!”

“Hello, Professor Chuffery,” Ginny said with a shy smile and a wave. “How are you?”

“I’m doing wonderfully. The marriage is simply marvellous,” the now slightly plump woman replied as
she leaped out of her chair and wrapped Ginny in a hug.

“That’s lovely,” Ginny stated with a pat on the older woman’s back.

Professor Chuffery stepped back with a smile. “But enough about me, dear. How are you these
days?”

“Well, not much has happened in the time since I graduated. I mean, you already know about Draco,
Professor Chuffery.”

“Please, call me ‘Glinda’. You’re no longer a student of mine, Ginny.”

“Yes, of course. As you wish…Glinda,” Ginny said with a smile.

“There. So much better, don’t you think? Now, remind me why you are here.”

“Oh, yes. Well, if you remember correctly, I had written you a letter regarding one of your past
students, Lily Collinsworth. I had requested a copy of her final paper since she used Draco as her
patient. You said in one of your responses that you would have it for me today.”

Ginny stared at Glinda with what she assumed was a hopeful look as the other woman seemed to have a
bit of a blank stare.

Fifteen seconds passed with no recognition whatsoever from the professor.

“Glinda? The paper?”

Glinda snapped back to reality. “Right! I’m terribly sorry. I was just trying to remember the
letter in particular. You know how busy we professors can get,” she replied with a laugh.

“Of course.”

Glinda turned back to her desk, sifting through the papers, before realizing that Lily’s paper was
not amongst the many scattered documents. Turning to Ginny once more, she beckoned the red head
with a wave of her hand to follow her to the back room within her office.

Glinda opened the door to the rarely used room, flicking on the light. The back room was mostly
used as a storage space and contained papers from students past; Ginny’s papers filed within one of
the many file cabinets. Luckily, Glinda did not have to search long for Lily’s paper, seeing as
Lily graduated about one or two years before Ginny and all files were sorted in chronological
order.

Ginny followed Glinda to the fourth file cabinet from the right, watching the blonde woman wave her
hand over the cabinet, whispering an incantation to open it. The top drawer slid open soundlessly,
coming to an abrupt stop in front of Ginny. Glinda stepped around Ginny to reach the left side of
the drawer and immediately began flipping through the dozens of files. About five minutes later,
Glinda stepped back from the file cabinet, sliding the drawer back into place as she did so. The
elder woman turned to Ginny and handed her the three inch thick folder with a flourish and a
grin.

“Here you go, Ginny. Lily Collinsworth’s final paper along with a couple of others that you might
find interesting,” Glinda said with a sigh. “Just remember to return them to me when you are
done.”

“Absolutely, Glinda. Thanks again for all of your help,” Ginny replied with a toothy grin.

“No problem,” Glinda stated, glancing at the clock inside the back room. “Oh dear! I completely
lost track of the time!” She suddenly turned to Ginny. “I’m sorry, dearie, but I have to get to my
class or else I shall be late. You can find your way out, can’t you, Ginny?” To which Ginny nodded.
“Good. Good. Well, it was nice seeing you again. Don’t be afraid to owl me with any questions you
have regarding Lily’s paper,” Glinda finished with a smile as she rushed out of the back
room.

Ginny stood next to the fourth file cabinet from the right, staring at the open door in front of
her. She took the file that was sitting limply in her left hand and shrunk it before placing it in
her handbag.

Closing the door to the back room behind her, Ginny looked around Glinda’s office before Apparating
back to her flat.

* * * * * * * *

Friday, 28 January 2004

“Ginny! Where the hell are you? We’re going to be late!”

Ginny slid out of her bedroom onto the wood panelling of the hallway upon Alise’s frantic
screaming. Currently, she only had on one out of her two black, stiletto-heeled boots, a pair of
dark denim jeans, a white fitted tank, and a black, men’s vest with round, gold buttons. Her hair
had yet to be done and her make-up was halfway done. And she thought that she planned everything
out to a tee.

So much for planning.

Ginny ran into the living room, to see Alise lounging on the couch, reading a copy of *Wizarding
Vogue*, a picture of a brooding Gabrielle Delacour on the cover, completely ready for the big
date.

“Didn’t you plan out how much time you had?” Alise asked, not looking up once from the magazine in
front of her.

“Yes,” Ginny ground out through gritted teeth.

If it weren’t the fact that Alise was like a sister to Ginny, she would’ve ripped the magazine out
of Alise’s snarky little hands and given the petite Asian girl a piece of her mind.

Ginny glanced at the clock in the living room to see that it was 7:30. She still had a good thirty
minutes. Damn Alise.

“Alise, you do realise that was have at least thirty minutes before we have to leave for Body 21,
right?”

“Huh?” Alise asked, finally looking up at Ginny. “Oh, that. I just wanted to make sure that you
were ready so we could get there on time.”

“But I still have thirty minutes!”

“Your point being?”

“My point is…oh just forget it!” Ginny fumed, tossing up her arms in defeat before stalking back to
her room to finish her preparations.

* * * * * * * *

About twenty-five minutes later, Ginny re-entered the living room coming upon a very familiar
situation: Alise lounging on her couch, reading *Wizarding Vogue*, with a brooding Gabrielle
Delacour on the cover.

This time, though, she was fully dressed, the other boot firmly in place on her left foot, and she
had both her hair and make-up done. Her make-up consisted of a slight smoky eye that was dark, but
not overly so. Her hair was a design of her own. Parted to the side, with her fringe twisted and
pinned back into the high ponytail her straight hair was in.

She cleared her throat, causing Alise to look up from her magazine.

“Very nice, Gin,” the Asian girl replied with a smirk.

“I do try,” Ginny said with a grin.

“Well, now that it seems like you are ready for our little outing, shall we head over to the
club?”

“Might as well.”

With that, the two women Apparated to London’s Wizarding underground with a resounding pop.

* * * * * * * *
Ginny and Alise landed in front of the bustling nightclub, Body 21, glancing around for their
respective dates.

“Alise!”

Alise turned around upon hearing her name, only to see Blaise giving her a huge smile. Alise in
turn ran up to Blaise and smothered him in a hug before pulling back to give him a smile of her
own.

“How are you, Alise? You look wonderful.”

And Alise did indeed look as Blaise so eloquently put it, ‘wonderful’. She was wearing a powder
blue, v-neck, silk dress that had a small trail of buttons that ended near her belly button. She
had parted her layered hair to the right, pulling it back to form a ponytail at the nape of her
neck. All of this was complimented by some icy blue eyeliner and a pair of peep-toed powder blue
pumps.

“I’m doing great,” Alise replied with a slight blush.

Blaise grabbed Alise’s left hand and pulled it to his mouth, planting a small kiss on it, causing
Alise to redden even more.

Ginny watched all of this with passive interest. *If those two aren’t smitten with each other,
then I’m Rowena Ravenclaw*, Ginny thought with an eye roll.

Blaise released Alise’s hand, looking up to see Ginny.

“Hello, Ginny. Long time, no see, eh?” he asked with a smirk.

“Long time, indeed. The last time I saw you was at Slughorn’s Christmas party, right?”

“Slughorn’s Christmas party…? Ah, yes. That little get together back during my sixth year. I seem
to remember that party with such fondness.”

“Really?” Ginny asked with a raised eyebrow. “I know someone who didn’t particularly enjoy your
company.”

“Weasley, you wound me,” Blaise replied, placing his hand on his heart. “I did nothing to ruin your
precious Lovegood’s night.”

“That’s a load of bullshit and you know it.”

“Ginny! Blaise! Please! That’s quite enough. You’re about to cause a scene outside the club,” Alise
yelled over the two. “This is not the time, nor the place to be discussing whatever may have
happened between Luna and Blaise at Hogwarts,” the last part directed at Ginny with a glare.

Ginny scowled at Blaise before plastering a goofy grin on her face.

“What’s with the smile, Gin?” Alise asked.

Ginny just looked past her at the man now standing directly behind Alise.

“I believe that I would be the one that Ginny is smiling at,” Antonio whispered into Alise’s ear,
causing her to jump a good two inches off of the ground.

Alise turned around, hand over her heaving heart to see Antonio smiling at her.

“I’m terribly sorry for frightening you. Here, let me introduce myself: my name is Antonio de
Medici, Ginny’s date,” Antonio said with an extravagant bow.

While Ginny started to giggle uncontrollably, Alise just stared on in shock.

Antonio was still in a bow for another minute before looking up with a, “What? No reply?”

“Oh, right. Sorry. I’m Alise Martin,” sputtered Alise.

Antonio quickly stood back up, taking Alise’s hand in the process and planting a quick peck on
it.

“It’s a pleasure, Miss Martin,” he replied, watching Alise develop a slightly splotchy blush.

He quickly let go, heading over to Ginny to give her a peck on the cheek. He wrapped an arm around
her waist and turned her towards him.

“And how are you doing on this lovely night, Miss Weasley?”

“As well as can be expected,” Ginny replied with a grin. “And you?”

“I was feeling a little sour this morning, but seeing you has immediately brightened my day.”

Blaise rolled his eyes and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “What woman in their
right mind would fall for that old line.”

Antonio turned to Blaise with a look of mild interest. “Did you have something to add,
Blaise?”

“No. Nothing at all. But can we at least move it along. I’d actually like to get into the club, not
just stand outside, making lovey-dovey eyes with our dates.”

“As you wish,” Antonio stated, leading Ginny into the packed club.

* * * * * * * *

The two couples entered Body 21, the fast-paced, DJ-driven music immediately taking hold.

Everywhere you looked there were bodies pulsating and gyrating to the techno music; each body
moving in accordance with the strobe lighting and the different coloured lasers shooting bars of
colour on the dance floor.

Ginny leaned against the balcony railing, inhaling the scent of alcohol mixed with sweat, already
feeling the adrenaline pumping through her. In the blink of an eye, she ran down the steps, making
her way to the middle of the dance floor.

“Ginny, would you like…?” Antonio began until he saw that she had left the balcony. “Shit. Now
where did she run off to?” His eyes began scanning the crowd below him, when he saw a flash of red
hair, compliments of the strobe lights.

He made his way down the stairs, craning his neck out in hopes of spotting Ginny. About five
minutes later, he found her near the DJ booth, trying to request a song.

“I said, can you please play-” Ginny was becoming quite frustrated at the DJ’s apparent lack of
attention to her request. That is until Antonio found her.

“Sorry for running off on you,” she muttered.

“Quite alright; I was just hoping that I wouldn’t find you with some other guy,” he replied,
extending a hand.

“Not a chance,” Ginny said, grabbing her hand, forgetting all about that annoying DJ and focusing
on Antonio.

He led her back to the middle of the dance floor, his eyes on her the entire time. By the time they
got to the centre, the music had gone from your typical synthesizer techno, to a very
pre-processed, all studio made techno. It was lightning fast and quite hypnotic, making everyone in
the club make their way onto the floor. And there were Ginny and Antonio, caught in the middle of
it all, gyrating against one another like the other participants.

* * * * * * * *

Upon entering, Blaise took Alise over to the nearest table he could find, ordering up a couple of
drinks for the two of them.

Blaise flashed a smile at Alise, to which she returned, but even Blaise’s smile couldn’t get rid of
the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Something Ginny had said had triggered Blaise and it revolved around Luna. And based on what
eventually ensued, she could tell it wasn’t very pleasant.

She wanted to ask him what it was, but she also had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that it
would ruin her entire night. And that was the last thing she wanted. Because she liked Blaise; she
really did. He was courteous, ever the gentleman, sweet, funny, charming, and extremely handsome (a
bonus if she really thought about it). She’d be damned if she was going to let him get away.

Besides, she was sure that whatever happened between Blaise and Luna was no big deal since Ginny
had a tendency of overreacting. Or at least she hoped that was the case.

“Alise?”

“Huh?”

Blaise grinned. “Would you like to dance?”

“Um, yeah, sure, I guess so.”

“Great,” he stated, smiling again, offering his hand which Alise readily took.

Blaise brought her downstairs, twirling her as he led her onto the floor. They stayed near the
edge, choosing not to get into the midst of all the sweaty bodies, opting for the relative
peacefulness of dance floor’s edge.

They were close together, feeling each other’s body heat, driving the other against their partner.
Blaise leaned down, his hands on Alise’s waist, and brushed his lips against Alise’s. Alise leaned
into him, snagging his lips with her own, entangling her hands in his hair. Blaise fought for
entrance into Alise’s mouth with his tongue, gently prodding until he gained entrance. He deepened
the kiss, visibly shivering when he felt Alise’s tongue graze the roof of his mouth. He brought her
closer to him, hearing her moan when he gave her a taste of her own medicine.

Gasping for breath, they pulled away, Alise about ten different shades of red, Blaise just staring
at her in wonder.

Alise lightly touched her swollen lips, outlining them with her index finger.

“If you keep doing that, I think I’m going to need a repeat of the past five minutes,” Blaise said,
pulling Alise close to him again.

“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait,” she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck.

* * * * * * * *

Ginny and Antonio watched on in rapture at the events unfolding in front of them.

Blaise and Alise full-on snogging. Huh.

After about five minutes, they were wondering if they were going to come up for air. Thankfully,
their fears were put to rest when the two broke off.

“Did that really just happen?” Ginny asked, standing with Antonio near the stairs.

“Yeah, I think it did,” he replied with a nod.

“And was it just me, or did it look like they were about Apparate back to Blaise’s place for some
more naughty affairs?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I think so,” Antonio said, laughing at Ginny’s interesting choice of words.

“Some night this has turned out to be,” Ginny said with a sigh.

“Some night, indeed,” Antonio replied, taking Ginny by the waist and leading her up the
stairs.

She only hoped that she wouldn’t witness a repeat of her sixth year.



**A/N**- I told you it was cheesy, but alas, like I said before, it had to be done. Thanks to
Angel for her quick and fab beta.

**ALSO**, I have created a LiveJournal where I will be posting updates to this story, one-shots,
and the beginnings of other stories before I post them here or on dracoandginny.com. Here's the
link:
http://xalexandriam.livejournal.com


**Next Chapter:** The aftermath of the date, Alise asks Ginny about what happened between Blaise
and Luna, and Ginny starts following up on her leads. It shall be fun.



12. Informative Adventures
--------------------------

**A/N-** I blame the amount of fic recs I've been recieving lately for the lateness of
this update. That and oodles of plot bunnies.


Chapter 12- Informative Adventures

Ginny woke up the next morning with a groan and silently thanked the powers that be that it was a
Saturday.

But in Ginny Weasley’s world, Saturdays don’t mean squat.

The fact that she still had those leads to check out was hovering over her like a little black
cloud. A potentially helpful little black cloud, but an annoying black cloud all the same. If gone
about the wrong way, the black cloud threatened to rain on her, thus far, perfectly good
Saturday.

So with another groan, Ginny yanked the covers off of her, sat up in her bed and yawned, going over
her to-do list for the day.

*One, go to Liverpool and look up a Ms. Natasha Atkinson. Two, go to St. Mungo’s and see if they
have any information as to a Ms. Andrea Lowe’s whereabouts.*

“Luckily, my list is rather short. Liverpool, though. That’s a bit of a trek, but that’s what
Apparition is for,” Ginny said after going through her list.

With another yawn, Ginny made her way to her shower, praying that today’s work wouldn’t be a
complete waste of her time.

* * * * * * * *

About an hour and two cups of coffee later, Ginny Apparated herself to a narrow alleyway outside of
a small pub in Liverpool.

She stepped out of the alleyway, hoping that she didn’t look too shifty, and made her way to the
street.

Within a few steps, Ginny found what she was looking for: a telephone booth.

Entering the booth and closing the door behind her, Ginny picked up the rather large telephone
book, searching for Natasha’s phone number, if she had one.

After three minutes of scanning over the small print, Ginny gave a small, “A-ha!” upon seeing a
number for a Miss Natasha Atkinson.

Grabbing the receiver, Ginny entered in the number, waiting for the woman on the other end to
answer.

“Hello,” stated a warm, feminine voice on the other end.

“May I please speak to Miss Natasha Atkinson?” Ginny asked.

“This is she. May I ask who is calling?”

“This is Doctor Ginevra Weasley; a psychologist from St. Mungo’s. I was wondering if you could
provide me with directions to your house; I have a few questions I would like to ask you,” Ginny
replied in the most professional tone she could muster.

“Of course, doctor. Are you currently in the Liverpool area?”

“Yes, I am. Right now, I’m on,” Ginny paused and glanced at the street sign outside. “The corner of
Kirkdale Road and Lancaster Street.”

“Alright. From there, you’re going to go west on Lancaster, until you hit Stanley Road. Then you’re
going to make a right onto Stanley and keep going until you get to Great Mercey Street. Make a
left, and go west until you make it to Heriot Street. My house number is 52 Heriot Street. It takes
a good fifteen to twenty minutes walking.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you in about twenty minutes,” Ginny stated before hanging up.

Ginny stepped out of the phone booth, the crisp winter winds whipping up her hair and reddening her
cheeks. She took a deep breath and exhaled, watching the small cloud of hot air form before
her.

Walking west on Lancaster, she prayed for the second time that day, with the same prayer in mind:
*Please let this not be a total waste of time.*

* * * * * * * *

As Natasha predicted, it did take Ginny about twenty minutes to reach her doorstep.

Ginny knocked twice before the front door opened, revealing a sweater-clad Natasha, her red hair
pulled back into a loose bun, a side-sweeping fringe partially covering her green eyes.

Natasha blew up part of her fringe, before deciding to pin it back with a bobby pin.

“You must be Doctor Weasley,” Natasha stated, extending her hand.

“Yes, but I much prefer Ginny,” Ginny replied, taking Natasha’s hand with her own and moving it up
and down a bit.

“You look freezing! Please, come in. I would hate to have you die of frostbite.”

Ginny entered the small house, following Natasha into a rather inviting sitting room.

“Would you like tea?” Natasha asked, indicating for Ginny to sit down in one of the plush
chairs.

“Oh yes, please,” Ginny replied, taking off her dragon hide gloves and pea coat.

“Cream, sugar, or lemon?” Natasha asked as she made her way to the kitchen.

“Cream with two sugar cubes, if you don’t mind.”

A few moments later, Natasha re-emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray with a small teapot, two
filled teacups and any other accoutrements that might be needed.

Natasha gave Ginny her cup, Ginny emitting a small “Thank you,” before taking a sip.

“Now, Ginny, you told me over the phone that you wished to ask me a few questions?” Natasha asked,
taking a sip from her own cup of tea.

“Ah, yes, that,” Ginny replied, setting her cup and its corresponding saucer on the table in front
of her. “Well, you see, I’m currently Draco Malfoy’s psychologist at St. Mungo’s -”

“I’m sorry. Did you just say that you were *Draco Malfoy’s psychologist?*” Natasha asked,
cutting Ginny off.

“Yes, but I don’t see what the big deal is?”

“If I were you, I’d leave now and never give him a second thought.”

“Why? I know Narcissa got rid of you, but Draco, or Narcissa, for that matter, never told me
why.”

“Narcissa got rid of me because I was the only one to see exactly what Draco was trying to
do.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“What I mean is that he’s using you to get to *her*. The first one. The one he wants but can
never have.”

“Who’s ‘her’? Narcissa? Some previous girlfriend that he’s trying to reach?”

“You can consider her a girlfriend. Have you ever noticed if anything was actually wrong with
Draco?”

“Well, he does tend to talk in third person, but that happens every so often. And he’s also a
favourite amongst the staff. But he’s criminally insane, so there’s bound to be things wrong with
him.”

“You see, what I learned was that he’s not really insane. Sadistic, yes. But insane, not even
close.”

“What do you mean? Of course he’s insane! Why else would he be in St. Mungo’s?”

“Because his mother has the money to put him there. Narcissa couldn’t stand to see her baby rot
away in Azkaban, so she was able to pay his way into St. Mungo’s. And about the insane part, all of
his little quirks, like the third person thing, are for show. He just uses them to ensure that
everyone believes that he belongs there. He really belongs back in Azkaban, but Narcissa ensured
that I would never make that happen.”

“So that’s why she got rid of you? Because wanted to put Draco back in Azkaban?”

“Precisely. And when Narcissa realized that I was seeking to do just that, she replaced me. But now
that I think about it, maybe he should stay at Mungo’s.”

“I’m sorry, but this makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. This just goes against everything that
I’ve worked with these past two years. And you still didn’t answer one of my previous questions:
Who is this mysterious ‘her’?”

“She is who I said she was: the first one.”

“The first one of what?”

“I’m assuming that you researched into Draco’s other psychologists, since that’s how you found me.”
Ginny nodded her head in concurrence. “Well, did anything weird stick out from our profiles?
Anything out of the ordinary?”

Ginny wracked her brain for information about the other psychologists; for anything that would be
deemed “strange”. Much to her aggravation, she was coming up with a blank. Ginny grabbed her cup of
tea and took a sip, allowing the bittersweet liquid to slide down her throat, as she mulled over
Natasha’s question a bit more.

“Well, I did notice that part of Andrea Lowe’s profile was missing, but that could have been caused
by somebody spilling something on it, right?” Ginny asked, with a hint of uncertainty.

“Not exactly,” Natasha replied with a slight wince. “Andrea was the one that Mungo’s wanted to hide
from the public. If it weren’t for what happened, she would have more than likely gone on to be the
Head of the Board of Psychologists. You should pay her a visit; I’m sure she could help you out
more than I could.”

“Really?” Ginny asked, excitement apparent in her voice. “Do you think you could tell me where I
could find her?”

“I don’t know where she is now, but Draco does.”

* * * * * * * *

Ginny exited Natasha’s house, a look of complete and utter shock strewn across her face.

That woman *had* to be completely barmy! Draco not insane? What was she on? LSD or
something?

Ginny kept mentally repeating what she told Natasha not fifteen minutes ago: this just goes against
everything. Everything she’s ever worked for, everything she ever learned about Draco.

She had to speak to Draco and immediately. She had to find out where Andrea was now and ask her
about Draco. Instead of relieving some of her stress and answering some of her questions, Ginny’s
visit with Natasha only created more problems; all involving a man who, as a child, wouldn’t give
her the time of day.

Ginny still didn’t know why she was still Draco’s psychologist. After all, he was nothing but
unpleasant to her at Hogwarts, and he still is, even when she’s nothing but cordial and at times,
friendly. He treated her like scum, yet she still continued to help him. And Ginny wasn’t exactly
sure why. After a year, she learned everything there was to know about him; at least, everything he
was willing to reveal. She was positive that by the beginning of summer she would be able to speak
with Narcissa and inform her that there’s nothing else that she could do, thus relieving her of
Draco forever. But this was just more than she could take.

Right about now, Ginny needed a nice bubble bath and a nice steaming cup of chamomile tea.

But first, she needed to pay Mr. Malfoy a visit over at St. Mungo’s.

* * * * * * * *

“Ginny!”

Ginny whipped her head around to glare at whoever tried to deter her of her goal: talk to Draco
then get the hell out of St. Mungo’s.

Her eyes softened a teensy bit when she saw Alise running towards her.

Alise made it to Ginny’s side, panting heavily, trying to catch her breath.

“Ginny! I’ve been looking all over for you today. I really need to talk to you about something,”
Alise said as her breathing returned to normal.

“Alise, I’m sorry, but can’t this wait? I’m about to have a session with Draco in a few
minutes.”

“But you don’t have one scheduled for today.”

“It’s a last minute session. Alise, can’t we do this sometime tonight? When I’m not in a hurry?”
Ginny asked, turning to walk away from Alise.

“I wanted to ask you about Luna and Blaise.”

Ginny stopped dead in her tracks. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know what happened between them the night of Slughorn’s Christmas party your fifth
year.”

Ginny gave in with a sigh. She motioned to a row of plastic chairs along the wall with a, “Sit
down.”

Alise proceeded to sit down in one of the stiff chairs, while Ginny plopped down into the one next
to her friend.

“Luna and Blaise were going out at the time of the Christmas party my fifth year. About a week
before the party, Harry had asked Luna to go with him, as friends. When Blaise went to ask Luna if
she would like to go with him later that week, Luna explained to him that she already had an
obligation with Harry. Blaise became suspicious of what was really going on and basically turned
into a jealous prat, even though Luna insisted that she and Harry were just friends.

The night of the Christmas party came and when Luna arrived, she saw Blaise acting a bit too
friendly with some Slytherin sixth year girl, if you know what I mean. When she went to his dorm
that night to try to apologize for the whole situation and knock some sense into him, she found him
with the same Slytherin girl, in a very compromising position. Needless to say, she was heartbroken
and the next day, she called it quits.”

“Oh,” was all Alise could say.

“Yeah. So, I guess now you know why I don’t like Blaise all that much,” Ginny stated with a weak
smile.

“That I do. I’ll just let you get on with the rest of your day, Ginny,” Alise said, giving Ginny a
slight nod.

“Right,” Ginny replied with a couple of nods of her own.

Ginny began waking away from Alise, looking back every now and then to see the Asian girl staring
at some indeterminate point on the wall in front of her.

Ginny felt kind of bad. It seemed like Alise really liked Blaise and then to hear that he cheated
on a past girlfriend; that’s a lot to take in. But Ginny also hoped that Blaise had changed. After
all, he acted just as interested in Alise as she was with him. But that’s what it could’ve been; an
act.

*Oh, hush, Ginny. Now you’re just filling yourself up with conspiracy theories*, Ginny chided
herself mentally.

Clearing her head of such thoughts, Ginny entered the Criminal Ward at St. Mungo’s, hoping to have
a little chat with her patient.

* * * * * * * *

“You again?” Draco asked as soon as Ginny entered his cell.

“Nice to see you too, Draco,” Ginny replied, a hint of venom lacing her words.

“What do you want this time?”

“Oh, nothing substantial; just some information,” Ginny stated as she conjured her trusty plush
armchair.

“Ah, yes. It’s always information from me,” Draco responded with a sneer. “It seems I am good for
nothing else but.”

“Will you quit with the snark and sarcasm already? It’s bad enough to have dealt with you during
school, but these sessions are quickly grating on my last nerve,” Ginny snapped.

“Then why don’t you just quit?”

“Because.”

“That’s not a good enough answer, doctor, and you know it,” Draco stated in a hush voice.

Ginny cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure and control of the situation.

“Why I choose to stay with this job is none of your business; understand?”

Draco nodded his head in acquiescence.

“Why I cam here today is to ask you if you could tell me the whereabouts of a certain person.
Someone I believe you know quite well.”

“Really now? You know, I happen to know a fair bit of wizarding society. It might be hard to
pinpoint just one person,” Draco commented, buffing his nails of the lapel of his uniform.

Ginny resisted the urge to roll her eyes, continuing on as if Draco had never made that
comment.

“I want to know where I can find Andrea Lowe.”

“Who? I don’t think I know her.”

“Are you having a sudden bout of amnesia or something?” Ginny asked incredulously. “She was your
first psychologist, you half-wit.”

“Oh, *that* Andrea Lowe.”

“Yes, Draco; *that* Andrea Lowe.”

“Last I heard she was locked up in Azkaban.”

Ginny’s eyes bugged out at that last bit.

“Actually, Draco, I do believe we have the wrong Andrea.”

“No, we don’t, *doctor*. The last I heard of her was in the Daily Prophet. It stated that she
was locked up in Azkaban. As to why, though? Your guess is as good as mine. St. Mungo’s was pretty
ticked off about the whole ordeal. She was supposed to be the Head of the Board. Once word leaked
out that she would be shipped off to Azkaban, they panicked tried everything in their power to
prevent news as to why she was going there from leaking out to the masses. Specifically Rita
Skeeter; and with good reason.”

“Well, th-that’s really all I needed from you today, Draco. I shall visit you some other time,”
Ginny stated almost mechanically, getting up from her chair.

“Ginny, are you okay? I didn’t shock you, did I?” Draco asked, grabbing Ginny’s wrist.

And for the second time that day, Ginny stopped dead in her tracks. She looked at Draco before
looking at her wrist with wide eyes, his hand still firmly around her wrist.

“I’m fine,” she replied before wrenching her wrist from his grasp.

There was something weird about that touch and Ginny knew it. She couldn’t put her finger on it,
walking out of Draco’s cell, but there was definitely something.

Maybe that bubble bath could help her sort out these pressing issues.

Besides, she was going to need it. A trip to Azkaban always required a level of relaxation in
Ginny’s mind. One needed to be relaxed around those creepy Dementors.


**A/N-** Angel's the coolest. And before you ask, yes those are ACTUAL streets AND
directions in the Liverpool area. I researched and figured out the directions. I'm pretty sure
that the street that Natasha lives on is residential. If not, meh. I plead artistic license.

Originally, this chapter was NOT supposed to contain Draco, but the darn dialogue between Ginny and
Natasha persuaded me otherwise. Aren't you lucky?!

And before I forget, I've adopted the TFL.org approved fanlisting for Harry Potter Het
Fanfiction! I HIGHLY suggest you join, not only because it's Harry Potter themed, but it's
run by me. Here's the link for all your HP shipping needs:
http://mia.starry-sky.com/hphet


**Next Chapter:** Ginny goes to Azkaban! It shall be fun. :D



13. Visiting Hours
------------------

**A/N-** A thousand apologies for not updating sooner. I blame school/marching season/my life
in general.



Chapter 13- Visiting Hours

It was especially cold that day on the tiny island in the middle of the North Sea.

Every breath taken by any prisoner came out as a shallow shudder; their thin blankets not doing
much in terms of warmth.

Little clouds of hot air could be seen coming out of all the cells, as the staff rushed to place
Heating Charms in various spots on the island. The charms were mostly for what little staff was
there, but if it benefited the prisoners as well, then so be it.

The Dementors could be seen floating around; their decayed hands latching on to a prisoner’s bars
every now and then to stop for a snack.

The Ministry was trying to cut down on the amount of Dementors within wizarding England. After the
fiasco in Harry Potter’s fifth year at Hogwarts, they were still seen as an asset, but now as a
burden as well. Nowadays, they were still in use, but kept under strict control by the guards of
the island.

A young guard walked along one of the many darkened halls in the fortress that was Azkaban, his
blue eyes scanning the hall in front of him, before looking over his shoulder at a sudden
sound.

He kept walking when he heard it again, but just faintly. As he continued to walk, it grew louder,
to the point where he could figure out what the sound was. It was a whistle, and a very low one at
that.

The guard walked to the end of the hallway and turned to the cell on his left, where the whistle
was coming from. He peeked inside, expecting to find one of the many deranged male prisoners that
inhabited the fortress, only to find a female prisoner instead.

The woman caged within had to be, at this point in time, in her late twenties, early thirties. She
had long brown hair that reached to just above the small of her back. It was unruly, knotted, and
matted in some places; no one could tell that she once used her hair as a way to attract men. Her
face was shaped like an elongated oval; a perfect match for her long limbs. Her grey Azkaban
standard uniform was entirely too big, engulfing her now rail-thin frame.

When the guard came upon her, she was staring at the ground, her knees pulled up to her chest so
her chin could rest on said knees. One long, pale finger was running along the dirt floor, making
shapes and words at random intervals.

The guard continued to look at her as she whistled away a tune that seemed familiar, yet foreign at
the same time.

All of a sudden the whistling stopped, and the woman whipped up her head, her blue eyes alight with
fear and excitement as they locked with the guard’s.

“It’s happening again.”

* * * * * * * *

Ginny looked up at the imposing grey building in front of her before scrunching her eyes
shut.

She opened them again, hoping to some deity that she wasn’t in front of Azkaban fortress. But as
her vision cleared and she heard the sound of water crashing against the rocky terrain, coupled
with the screams of the prisoners, her hopes fell.

And to think, this imposing prison is her current employer. She works at St. Mungo’s now more than
anything, but Azkaban still calls her in from time to time to check up on the prisoners’ mental
health. But that didn’t mean that the place still gave her the collywobbles at the mere mention of
its name.

Ginny looked up at the prison once more, took a rather large gulp, and walked through the
gates.

* * * * * * * *

Once inside, Ginny was greeted by a young guard with dark brown hair and blue eyes named
William.

“May I ask what it is you are here for, Doctor Weasley?” William asked.

“I’m here to visit one of the prisoners; a young woman by the name of Andrea Lowe. I wish to speak
with her.”

“Would you like me to bring her to your office?”

“No; the visiting room will do just fine, William.”

“Yes, doctor. If you could just wait in the visiting room, I’ll bring her in shortly.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all,” William replied with a smile before heading off to Andrea’s cell.

* * * * * * * *

Ginny entered the visiting room and instantly felt like she had entered one of the Auror
interrogation rooms at the Ministry.

The room was low lit with one metal table in its centre with two chairs, each at opposite ends. At
the far end of the room was a one way window; the room’s occupants could not see out through the
large window, only those on the outside could see in.

The lack of comfort in the small room overall only added to the amount of fear that Ginny had for
Azkaban.

She sat down in one of the metal chairs and flinched on contact. She lifted her bottom up a bit and
placed a hand on the seat of the chair. It was as cold as ice.

Ginny slowly inched herself back onto the chair, looking up when she heard the door open.

The person who entered the room was a young woman, who looked to be in her late twenties, early
thirties. She was looking down as she made her way to her chair; her long brown hair covering most
of her facial features. Her feet were bare as they shuffled across the smooth linoleum floor. Ginny
noticed that her grey uniform was too big for her small frame and the only thing that was visible
besides her feet were her long pale fingers; each digit peeking out from sleeves that were fraying
at the edges.

She sat down in the chair opposite Ginny, barely noticing the coldness of the chair. She kept her
head lowered and said nothing; the only sound heard from her was a low whistle.

Ginny cleared her throat, hoping to get the woman’s attention to no avail.

“Ex-excuse me, Miss Lowe? Miss Andrea Lowe?” Ginny asked the waif of a brunette.

Andrea only continued to whistle.

“Doctor Lowe?” Ginny tried again, instead using Andrea’s title.

Upon hearing this, Andrea began to laugh. A high-pitched, almost maniacal laugh that reverberated
off of the walls of the room, causing it to linger in Ginny’s ears.

Then Andrea abruptly stopped laughing, lifting her head to look right at Ginny.

“I haven’t heard that in a long time,” she stated quietly. “What do you want from me?”

“If it isn’t too much trouble, Doctor Lowe, I would like to ask you about your time with Draco
Malfoy.”

At this, Andrea smirked before tilting her head back and sighing. She brought her head back down
and looked at Ginny for a few minutes with a blank look on her face.

“There’s so much I could say about him,” Andrea began cautiously. “I’m certainly not spiteful for
what he did to me, but he is the reason why I was sent here. He’s the reason why I no longer have a
career, a future. Why my brother, William, applied to by a guard here. William thinks I have not
noticed his presence, but I’m not as far off as I used to be. And now that I think about it, in a
way, being in Azkaban has brought me back. Of course, I still have my moments of relapse every now
and then but, I am no longer obsessed with him; I have my sanity back.” Andrea finished this last
phrase with a smile and a relieved sigh.

“And what was it exactly that Draco did that caused you to come to Azkaban?”

“I know this is going to sound absolutely crazy, but I fell in love with him.”

Ginny gave a little twitch at the last statement. Her eyes bugged out just slightly as she looked
at Andrea, her eyebrows pursed together in confusion.

“I’m sorry, but did you say that you fell in love with him?”

Andrea nodded her head fervently. “I told you it was crazy, but I did. I don’t know how I did it,
but over the course of the time that I had him as a patient, I fell in love with him.”

“But that couldn’t possibly have landed you in Azkaban. It is rather strange for a doctor to fall
in love with their patient, but it isn’t unheard of and it certainly doesn’t get you sent to prison
for it,” Ginny replied.

“You’re right, it doesn’t. It’s what I did for him that caused the Ministry to send me to
Azkaban.”

-November 2002-

*Andrea knew she shouldn’t have been in this particular St. Mungo’s ward this late at night, but
it was the only time she’d be able to do what she needed to do.

Her tennis shoes made no noise on the tile floor as she ran down the long hallway, past the cells
full of patients; most of them asleep by this time.

She finally made it to the last cell, inside the one man that she cared about the most in this
world. Andrea chanced a glance at the guard on duty, knowing full well that he would be asleep; he
always was.

She carefully took her wand out of her pant’s pocket and placed the tip at the top right corner of
the cell’s door. She ran it down the length of the door, whispering the counter spell to the first
ward, before moving on to the others.

Five minutes later, she had all of the wards removed, her wand placed safely back in its holding
place.

Andrea opened the cell’s door, thanking whatever immortal being that’s up there that there was no
squeak or signal to alert others that the door was being opened. She closed the door behind her,
confident that there was no need to worry about her safety in his cell. She always felt safe when
he was around.

She edged closer to his cot, sighing at the sight of him fast asleep, not a care in the world; her
angel.

She moved closer still and extended her arm, reaching for his shoulder to wake him. She nudged him
a bit, giggling when he moaned and shifted on the cot. She tried nudging him again, before
realizing that it wouldn’t work.

“Draco,” she whispered, leaning in close to his ear.

He moaned again, followed by a small snort.

“Draco,” Andrea repeated in a sing-song voice. “Wake up.”

Straightening herself up, Andrea huffed at Draco’s inability to wake-up at the present time and
decided to try a different approach.

She kneeled down in front of him, her face now level with his before she planted a light kiss on
his ever-smooth lips. As her eyelids fluttered to close, his shot open, staring at a seemingly
blissful Andrea.

Draco pulled away and sat up on his cot, his hair sticking up wildly in all manner of direction,
his silver eyes as pale as the moon.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he spat as Andrea came back to her senses.

Andrea reared back so her bum rested on her calves. “What you told me to do this morning, silly.
Remember?”

Draco stared at her for a few moments with squinted eyes and pursed eyebrows. He began to cock his
head at different angles, trying to remember what it was that he told Andrea that would cause her
to wake him up at this ungodly hour.

“Oh, yes! Now I remember,” Draco stated when Andrea began giving him the strangest looks.

Her face brightened instantly. “Good. Now hurry; we don’t have much time left to get you out of
here.”

“Yes, of course,” Draco replied, rising from his cot with a yawn and a stretch.

Andrea ran to the cell door and opened it again before peeking out, satisfied when she saw that the
guard was still asleep.

She turned her head around to see Draco, and began moving it in a way as to suggest that he exit
the cell first.

When he didn’t comply, she grabbed him by the arm and ran out, dragging him along for the
ride.*

“We almost made it, you know,” Andrea said almost wistfully.

“What happened?” Ginny asked, completely enthralled with Andrea’s tale. If it weren’t for the fact
that it was true, Ginny thought it would make an excellent trashy romance novel. Not your everyday,
run-of-the-mill, trashy romance novel, but one nonetheless. *It might still make an excellent
one.*

“We got caught as we made it out of the ward. One of the older residents saw us together and raised
the alarm. Draco was sent back to his cell, this time with stronger wards, and a few days later, I
was convicted by the Wizengamot and sent to Azkaban.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ginny replied. There seemed to be no other response to what happened. Ginny felt
compelled to apologize, although she did not need to.

“There’s no need to apologize,” Andrea said with a laugh. “I was young, I still am, and stupid. The
way he treated me made me feel special. He made me feel as though I was the only one in his world;
that no one else mattered except for me and him. I was wrong, of course, but that’s how he made me
feel. You aren’t feeling that way, are you?”

“Oh, no! Of course not!” Ginny blurted out. “I’ve known him since our years at Hogwarts. Our
families are sworn enemies; that sort of thing. I absolutely hate him. There’s no way that I could
possibly fall in love with him. Just no way.”

“I see,” Andrea replied, nodding her head.

“Do you know if you’re slotted for release?” Ginny asked to break the somewhat awkward
silence.

“As far as I know, I’m here for a while. As you can imagine, attempting to break Draco out ranked
pretty high on the crime chart, but I don’t remember any mention of my release at my
hearing.”

“I hope you get out,” Ginny said with as much sympathy as she could muster. “It’s a shame to see
you in Azkaban. I heard that you were a fantastic doctor and that you were slated to take up the
position of the Head of the Board.”

“Why thank you,” Andrea said with a grin. “It would be nice to get back to work, but you know,
after you go to Azkaban for a crime that very few know about, it’s pretty hard to go back to your
original life.”

“That’s true, but I’m sure that your previous reputation was so great that you’d be able to find
work. If anything, you could probably work here at Azkaban. They’re my full-time employer; I only
work at St. Mungo’s part-time.”

“Well, whoever you are, if and when I get released, you shall be one of the first to know about
it.”

“Oh, I can’t believe I forgot to tell you my name. I’m Ginny Weasley, Draco’s current
psychologist.”

“I figured as much. You look a lot like your brother, Ron. I used to see him from time to time in
the other psychiatric wards. He’s a very nice young man, even if he does have no recollection of
ever being a wizard.”

“That’s rather nice of you to say,” Ginny replied with a small smile.

“Well, Ginny Weasley, like I said before, if I ever get out, you shall be one of the first people
to know.”

At that time, William entered the room, bringing Ginny’s meeting with Andrea to a close.

“Come along, Andrea. Time to take you back to your cell,” William said, taking Andrea by the arm to
lead her out of the room.

Andrea sighed dramatically and put a well-crafted blank look on her face before replying. “Yes,
William.” She turned to Ginny. “It was nice talking to you, Miss Weasley. I hope to see you again
soon.”

And with a wink directed at Ginny, Andrea Lowe was taken back to her cell.

* * * * * * * *

A few minutes after Andrea’s departure from the visiting room, another guard entered; one that
Ginny did not recognize, nor did she care who it was.

“Excuse me, Miss Weasley?”

Ginny looked up at the guard with a raised eyebrow.

“Is there anything else that we can do for you or will you be leaving the island shortly?”

Ginny nodded her head several times, a look of confusing plastered on her face, before she stood up
and left the room.

She made it down the hallway before she heard her name; the young guard running after her.

“Please, Miss Weasley, let me escort you to the Apparation Point at the front of the island,” the
guard stated once he caught up to Ginny.

“No, that’s quite alright,” Ginny replied in the politest manner possible. “I believe I can make it
from here, but thanks for the offer.”

“As you wish,” the guard said with a curt nod, backing away from Ginny as he did so.

Ginny spun around on her heels, head lowered, taking a deep breath once she was no longer facing
the retreating guard.

She looked down at the floor, biting one of her nails every so often like she did as a
teenager.

She placed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and looked up; nodding again for what seemed like
the thousandth time that day. But this time, she nodded as if making up her mind; her nods were not
so much done in a robotic manner but more as if she was making a small wave with her chin.

It was with a final nod that it seemed as if she made her decision.

She had a lot of work to do.



**A/N-** In case you didn't figure it out, the part in italics after "November
2002" was a flashback. Thought I'd clear that up.

**AND**, because so many people have been assuming this about the story (or the plot line; call
it what you will...) Draco **IS NOT**, and I repeat, **IS NOT** Antonio. Yes, I know; they
look alike, the act the same, etc. If you have not learned this about me by now, I shall tell you:
I do everything for a reason. There is a reason why Draco and Antonio look alike. And if you have
not figured it out, then too bad; I'm not telling you why. You'll just have to be patient
like the rest of the world.

**Next Chapter:** Ginny makes a little trip to Malfoy Manor!



14. Plans
---------

 **A/N-** Again, I'm fully aware that I probably suck something awful right now for
taking my dear sweet time updating. I blame marching season, Mid-terms, PSATs, AP English, as well
as, AP American History. But you can feel free to blame whoever or whatever else of your
choosing.



Chapter 14- Plans

She sat down in the manor's atrium.

A powder blue sundress adorned her body; its fitted bodice, topped off by a sweetheart bust line,
and mid-calf length skirt perfected the society matron look she was going for today.

She wasn't exactly sure why she decided to wear a sundress in the middle of January, but she
was in the atrium and it was rather warm compared to the frigid weather outside its glass
walls.

She looked at the small table before her; a seat opposite her, obviously meant for the guest she
was planning to receive at any minute. There was a wide variety of small cakes and sandwiches, as
well as a ceramic tea set with a royal blue floral pattern on it.

At that time, one of her many house elves approached her.

"Mistress, Miss Weasley is here to see the Mistress. Does Mistress want Nessa to bring her to
the atrium for tea?" the small house elf asked with her head bowed.

Narcissa turned her attention to the house elf in front of her.

"Thank you, Nessa. And please send in Miss Weasley."

Nessa proceeded to perform a low bow in front of Narcissa before leaving the atrium.

* * * * * * * *

Ginny sat in Malfoy Manor's front parlour, patiently waiting for the small house elf who
greeted her at the door to come back from the atrium.

Not five seconds later, the elf entered, clearing her throat to announce her presence to
Ginny.

Ginny looked at the little creature, curious as to what Narcissa had said.

"Mistress Black will be seeing you now. If Miss Weasley could follow Nessa, Nessa can take
Miss Weasley to the atrium," Nessa announced.

Ginny stood up and walked to where Nessa was, proceeding to follow the elf when she turned to
leave.

The pair walked along a long hallway filled with portraits of various sizes, quite a number of them
featuring Draco as either a small boy or as a teen at Hogwarts.

Ginny glanced at a couple here and there, chuckling when an image of Draco scowled or sneered at
her once it realised who she was. Her favourite image, she decided, was a black and white
photograph that seemed to be taken when he wasn't paying attention. It was a close-up of him at
about sixteen, his head looking slightly to the left, but not enough so it was a direct profile.
Ginny did not know what it was about this particular photograph that caught her attention, but upon
further reflection, she realised it was the only photograph she saw in which he looked genuinely
happy. Not the type of happy that Gryffindors usually feel, but just content. Almost as if he were
to die right then and there, then he wouldn't mind.

Ginny did not notice that she stopped to stare at the photo until Nessa tugged on her skirt a bit,
indicating that Narcissa was still waiting.

* * * * * * * *

Narcissa looked up as she heard footsteps signalling Ginny's entrance into the atrium.

After Nessa performed her customary bow and left, Narcissa stood up to greet Ginny, pressing her
body against Ginny's in an awkward hug.

"Ginny, how nice of you to visit," Narcissa stated as she pulled away from the young
woman.

"It's no problem at all, Narcissa," Ginny replied with a grin.

The elder woman led Ginny to the tea table, proceeding to sit down and prepare Ginny's tea as
well as her own.

Once both women had a sufficient amount of tea and pastries within their bodies, the time for
conversation began.

"So, Ginny, tell me why you are here," Narcissa said, before taking a small sip of her
tea.

"I just wanted to ask you a few questions, if that isn't too much."

Narcissa waved a hand in front of Ginny, prompting her to begin her questioning.

"Well, the night of your party, I was talking to Draco's aunt, Sophia, and she mentioned
something about her keeping up a line of communication between her and yourself, even though she
was disowned. She also mentioned that whenever you or Draco would visit Italy, you would stay with
her, but Antonio told me that your birthday party a few days ago was the third time that he's
seen you."

Narcissa nodded in a rather violent manner before replying with, "So, what exactly is your
question, my dear?"

"Do you think you could just explain that whole situation to me? I think it will help me with
Draco's case."

"Of course I can. Trouble is where do I start?" Narcissa asked no one in particular
before shouting out "Ah, yes!" and commencing with her story.

"I met Sophia the day of my wedding to Lucius. I was about nineteen when I married Lucius, he
about twenty-seven and Sophia was twenty-one and had yet to marry. It was at the reception that we
were introduced. While making our rounds of the guests, Lucius introduced Sophia to me. A few days
after the wedding, she came by her house just before we left for our honeymoon. Lucius happened to
be out, doing some last minute business before we left, so I took it upon myself to entertain his
sister. We bonded immediately. I was never really all that close to my sisters growing up, you see,
so I was excited about the prospect of playing a part in Sophia's life.

It was during my honeymoon that I found out that Sophia had been disowned by the Malfoy family.
Lucius showed me the letter, disgust written across his features. He had been close with Sophia,
but his family's pride and hatred for all things Muggle had a greater hold over him, so he had
no choice but to comply with protocol. When we returned, there was a letter waiting for me from
Sophia detailing her feelings of contempt and spitefulness toward her family. At the end of the
letter, she requested a response and attached a photo from her wedding.

I couldn't understand why a family would want to do that to a family member, even though it
happened quite often in my own. I made a promise that day to keep in contact with her; the sister I
wish I had.

As to my visiting her in Italy, I *did* take Draco with me once over the summer, but he was
too young to probably remember anything that happened. Antonio has only seen me twice because many
of my trips to Italy were with Lucius and it was rather hard to get away from him, but if I went by
myself, then I would stay with Sophia. As to the letters, Sophia did write as Luciana some of the
time, but that was only after Lucius became suspicious of who I was really writing to. If Draco
ever received a letter from her, it was signed as Sophia, but he knew her alias as
well."

"Okay," Ginny replied, drawing out the word with a sigh. "That was pretty useful. Do
you mind if I ask you something else?"

"Of course not; go right on ahead," Narcissa said.

"What really happened with Andrea Lowe and Natasha Atkinson?"

"Oh, dear," Narcissa replied, furrowing her eyebrows. "I had forgotten about those
two. A mental block, if you will."

"But can you still tell me about what happened to them?"

"I can tell you more about Andrea than Natasha. With Natasha, I just didn't get along with
her. And it wasn't just because I knew that Draco was trying to use her as his ticket out of
St. Mungo's - yes, I knew about that - I just genuinely did not like her. I'm sure the
woman could be very nice, but whenever I was speaking with her, it seemed like she was
disinterested and plain rude. I could not stand her. Andrea, though, she was a different story
entirely."

* * * * * * * *

-August 2002-

*Andrea fidgeted on chaise lounge in the parlour of Malfoy Manor.

She was lucky to have secured a meeting with Narcissa; lately Narcissa Black had been dealing with
the financial troubles one goes through when one's son is transferred from being in prison to
being a mental patient at St. Mungo's.

But she had a feeling Narcissa would take time out of her busy schedule to chat with her.

Andrea didn't particularly know why, but Narcissa was quite fond of her. In fact, it was not
uncommon for the two to spend a Saturday or have a nice afternoon lunch together. Narcissa was like
the Barbie doll that she'd see her Muggle friends play with as a child: long, straight blonde
hair, flawless complexion, a vast wardrobe, and a smile could always be seen on her face. Time with
Narcissa meant time to play dress up, or Society Somebody for the day.

But today wasn't one of those days. Today Andrea requested to speak with Narcissa in regards to
her now infamous son, Draco.

She had been thinking about Draco quite often lately and his behaviour during their sessions
wasn't helping one bit. She was confused about many things, one of them being Draco, but she
didn't know how to approach any of the topics that were swirling around like a tornado in her
brain.

Narcissa had always given Andrea great advice time after time and she hoped this time would be no
different.

Narcissa entered the parlour, taking in the sight of a visibly worried Andrea, and rushed over to
the girl immediately.

"Is there something wrong, my dear?" Narcissa asked, her voice laced with concern.

"I fear I have a rather large problem, Narcissa," Andrea replied, looking up at the elder
woman with wide eyes.

"I'm sure it's not that big of a problem. Whatever could it be?"

"This is probably going to sound crazy. In fact, I* know *it's crazy."

"Nonsense. I think you're just overreacting."

"Okay then," Andrea responded, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Narcissa, I
think I'm in love with your son, Draco."

Narcissa stared at Andrea for a few minutes before laughing. Loudly. And in a manner that one would
not expect from Narcissa Black.

"Oh, that was a fabulous joke, Andrea. And the look on your face! You almost convinced me for
a moment. I'll have to tell Saphira about that one."

Andrea shook her head in a violent manner. "Narcissa, I'm not joking. I really think that
I am in love with your son. I mean, look at me! I'm a nervous wreck and I've been skipping
work frequently just so I don't have to be near him! Why would I joke about something like
this?"

Narcissa cocked her head to the side, furrowing an eyebrow in thought. "Well, now that you
mention it, I have noticed that you have not been giving me as many reports as you used to, but you
must be joking. The thought of you being in love with my son is preposterous. He's mentally
unstable, criminally insane. How in all of god's name could you have fallen in love with him?
His psychologist no less?"

"Trust me, Narcissa, I know how crazy the idea is, but I can't stop thinking about him. It
seems that even the littlest things lately will remind me of him. A game of Quidditch, chocolate,
anything that's grey, a smirk or a smile, even your blonde hair reminds me of him. I can't
take it anymore! I don't want to think about him anymore."

"I - I don't know what to say, my dear. I know that my son can charm the pants off of any
woman, literally, but this is just, I don't know, strange."

"I've been trying so hard these past few weeks to avoid him. Especially since my review
for the Board is coming up. I've heard the rumours regarding Thompson and the possibility of my
replacing her as the Head of the Board. I know that I might very well in fact replace her. I
don't need something like this ruining my chance for advancement." By that point, Andrea
was standing, her face mere inches away from a retreating Narcissa's face. She backed away and
sat down, fully aware of the anger flowing through her.

"I apologize, Narcissa, for possibly scaring you. It's just that I can't imagine what
would happen to me if the Board found out that I have feelings for a man that is rightfully feared
in the wizarding world."

"Have you heard of others falling for their patients?" Narcissa asked cautiously, hoping
that her question wouldn't evoke Andrea.

"I have, but most of these cases are between a psychologist and someone in need of minor
psychiatric help. Not a psychologist and her criminally insane patient."*

* * * * * * * *

"I never spoke to her again after that conversation in August. It was sometime in late
November that I found out that St. Mungo's had placed her in Azkaban after she attempted to
break Draco out of the hospital. The last time I talked to her, I accepted the idea that she might
very well be in love with my son, but after hearing that she went to Azkaban for him stripped me of
all doubt. I still can't comprehend it, though, after two years."

"I can't comprehend it, either, and I spoke to Andrea not too long ago."

"Really?" Narcissa asked, narrowing her eyes. "And what did she tell
you?"

"She told me about her attempt to get Draco out of St. Mungo's and how her being in
Azkaban is actually improving her mental health."

Narcissa smiled at this. "Good. She deserves to be happy; she's already gone through so
much in her life, being a squib and all."

"Of course," Ginny replied with a nod. "She seems like such a nice girl. Her brother
is rather nice as well."

"You've met William?"

"Yes, when I went to talk to Andrea. He decided to be a guard at Azkaban after Andrea’s
incarceration. I guess it's his way of making sure that his sister is okay."

"I always knew there was a reason why I liked that family so much," Narcissa said with
another smile. "More tea, Ginny, dear?"

Ginny glanced at her wrist watch. "No thank you, Narcissa. I'm afraid I must be heading
off. But thanks for answering some of my questions."

"No problem, Ginny. Was there any specific reason why you needed to ask me about the things
that you did?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, not really; I was just curious after talking to Sophia and Andrea
is all. Plus, I think it will help me understand Draco more."

"I see. Well, I don't want to prevent you from being where ever it is that you need to be.
I shall see you again sometime, Ginny. It was lovely chatting with you."

"You as well, Narcissa," Ginny replied, turning to leave.

Ginny got as far as the doorway of the atrium before turning around to face Narcissa.

"Oh, Narcissa, is alright if I ask you one more question?"

"Go right ahead," Narcissa replied, motioning with her hand for Ginny to continue.

"Was there anything wrong with you the night of your birthday party because you seemed a
little bit off, if you know what I mean?"

Narcissa sighed as she shook her head. "No, there was nothing wrong with me, dear. I was just
a little flustered and fully cognizant of the fact that I would not be able to spend another
birthday with my son. Nothing more, nothing less. Suffice it to say, I wasn't really pleased
with the whole idea of having a birthday party because I would have to come to terms with what is
wrong with Draco, but Saphira talked me into it. I apologize if I seemed out of sorts."

"You shouldn't have to apologize for something like that, Narcissa. Draco is your only
child, so I can only imagine how hard life has been for you lately. But thank you for answering my
question."

"It's no trouble at all; I'm glad I could help," Narcissa said with a
smile.

"Now, I really must be going,� Ginny replied with a laugh. "Thank you again for
everything, Narcissa; for answering my questions and your wonderful hospitality."

"It's always fun to entertain guests, Ginny, and you are no exception," Narcissa
stated with a nod towards Ginny.

A crack sounded off near Ginny as Narcissa's personal house elf, Nessa, Apparated into the
atrium.

"Nessa has come to fetch Miss Weasley and lead her to the manor's Apparition point,"
the small elf said with a bow. "Come, Miss Weasley, Nessa will show you the way."

Ginny nodded to the elf as she was led out of the atrium to the great room of the manor where the
main staircase was.

"From the great room, Miss Weasley can Apparate back to where ever she needs to go,"
Nessa stated once they entered the large room.

"Thank you, Nessa and please pass on my compliments to your Mistress," Ginny told the elf
with a smile.

"Nessa will do so, Miss Weasley," Nessa replied before snapping her fingers and
Apparating to only god knows where within the manor, although Ginny assumed it was back to
Narcissa.

Not too long after Nessa left did Ginny do the same as the elf.

With a whoosh, Ginny was gone from the great room in Malfoy Manor, back to her flat. Back to when
everything made sense in her life.



**A/N-** Hmm...not much to say with this chapter. In my personal opinion, the name doesn't
really do this chapter justice, but I was running low on good chapter names. I just needed to tie
up some things that became glaringly apparent whilst I was re-reading this story for like the
umpteenth time. Review and all that jazz to make me a very happy camper.



15. Confusion
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16. The Aftermath
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17. Mad Love
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