What I Will And Won't Do

What I Will And Won't Do

Chapter One: I WILL Make Malfoy Miserable

Disclaimer: As much as I wish that everything was mine, it's not. I can only claim the plot and the few characters which show up later as a result of my own daydreaming. Everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling - if anything else happens to crop up, there will be something at the end of the chapter.

Summary: There are certain things a Malfoy won't do: such as be civil to a Weasley. There are things a Weasley will do: such as annoy said Malfoy endlessly. Too valuable to Voldemort, they must leave Hogwarts and go on the run together…alone…in Muggle London.

A/N: Hello! This isn't my first fic, but it is my first one in a few years so hopefully I'm not as rusty as I feel. I have written a handful of things before under a different pen name but this is a very different tone than my previous fics and I'd like to start anew. I figured that since I'm sitting here on the day of my birth nineteen years ago, I may as well get the first chapter up and going! This story has been churning in my head for quite sometime now and I think I've finally got the storyline perfected (or as close as it will get) but I am looking for a beta, so let me know if you're interested and please enjoy!!

P.S. Just a warning - this is HBP compatible.

Chapter One: I WILL Make Malfoy Miserable

“You cannot be serious.”

“I'm afraid that I am, Miss Weasley,” Professor, or Headmistress rather, McGonagall stated sadly, her bespectacled eyes shooting them a mournful glace over her rims.

“With all due respect, why the bloody hell would I agree to this?”

“First and foremost, Mr. Malfoy, I suggest you watch your language,” the strict Headmistress admonished, “You have no choice but to agree to this arrangement…or you face certain death.”

“That's pretty much the same thing, aren't they?” Malfoy mumbled under his breath, sighing heavily as his breath moved the wisps of platinum hair out of his metallic orbs.

“Oh shut up, Malfoy, it's not like I think this is all sunshine and daisies either, you know,” Ginny whined, dark sienna eyes glaring fiercely at the Slytherin she had grown to hate so much in the last six years through heavy lashes.

“Well, think of it this way, Weaselette, at least you don't have to spend your days with somebody like, well, you,” Draco sneered, giving her the once-over and taking inventory of her obnoxiously red hair, shower of freckles covering her cheeks and nose, and her shabby black robes, “you get the honour of spending your year with me. And let's face it - what girl in this school wouldn't be thrilled to have such a privilege?”

“Hmmm, let's see,” Ginny tapped her delicately pronounced chin thoughtfully, “For starters - me. Professor, do we really have to?” She knew she sounded childish, but really…Malfoy?

“The Minister and I really do not see any other way around it. Either you do as suggested or you will have condemned yourself to a fate far worse than anyone who has died in this war so far,” McGonagall reproved austerely. “I expect you both to give me an answer today - right now, actually - so we can get things set up for you by tomorrow; the sooner the better.”

“Fine,” Draco haughtily conceded, “but, I'm not pleased about it - and I do expect some sort of award.”

“Right, Malfoy, they often reward gits with big heads such as yours who not-so-humbly step down off their high horse to spare their own lives,” the feisty redhead rolled her eyes, “I believe it's probably named after your father, so you've basically got it in the bag already.”

“That's enough!” McGonagall's voice sliced through the air just as Malfoy began to open his mouth, seething from the attack. “Miss Weasley, what's your answer?”

“I'll have to, won't I?” the diminutive girl answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “If I don't, Malfoy will have far too good a time by himself.”

This answer earned her a scowl like no other she'd received in her lifetime from a certain blonde next to her. She childishly stuck her tongue out at him and turned her attention back to Professor McGonagall.

“Whatever your reasons are, I can assure you that you have both made the right choice. I know it will be hard, but in the end, I believe it will have a rather large pay off,” the stern lady declared. At seeing Draco Malfoy's eyes light up, she felt obligated to go on, “No, Mr. Malfoy, not a monetary payoff. You will be alive, that will be the best thing we could ever hope to give you in times like these.”

His face fell but his disappointment was washed away and replaced with a look of practiced Slytherin indifference. He knew he was the only one who valued his life, even if only a miniscule amount.

“May I go now, Headmistress?” Draco asked impatiently, “I have things to tend to before tomorrow.”

“Yes, you may both go and begin packing up a few things,” she dismissed them, “Meet me back here at nine o'clock tomorrow morning. Do not be late.”

Both students rose and politely excused themselves from their chairs, making their way back toward the entrance, all the while insulting one another freely. Just as the door was closing behind them, McGonagall saw Ginny Weasley give her companion a rather large shove and then smile gaily as Draco stumbled, shouting about Weasley filth on his posh robes.

“It will be truly amazing should they make it the whole year without killing one another,” McGonagall remarked to herself quietly smirking before returning to her work.

*

“Wait, you have to what?!” a highly enraged Colin shouted upon hearing the news his best friend Ginny had just announced

“I have to spend one year with Malfoy, living as Muggles,” she groaned, slowly twirling her fiery mane through her slender fingers.

“But why?” Her friend looked truly disgusted at the thought of having to spend a whole year with Malfoy. What Gryffindor wouldn't? It was a ridiculous thought - Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy playing house together in the Muggle world while the rest of the school got to go on living perfectly normal lives and worrying about nothing but Arithmancy and what was for dinner that evening.

“Some rot about how I'm too valuable to Harry and since Malfoy failed his mission to kill Dumbledore, You-Know-Who will be after us in a heartbeat this year. He needs to get rid of Malfoy in order to keep the knowledge of his ever-rising power strictly within his inner circle. He also will be coming after me to gain leverage against Harry since we dated last year and we have sworn to wait for each other and continue once he returns from him, Hermione, and Ron's search for whatever evil they've trotted off looking for.” Ginny explained quickly, remembering at the same time how unhappy she was that no one would trust her enough to let her in on the secret goings-ons of the Order.

“So what you're telling me here is that, the “Dark Lord” keeps up on the gossip of Hogwarts relationships?” Colin asked dumbfounded, “Who would have thought?”

“If that's how you want to think of it, then yes, I suppose that in his own way he does,” the freckle-faced young woman acknowledged. “But that's not really the important bit is it? What's important here is that I essentially have to pose as Draco Malfoy's girlfriend in Muggle London!”

Ginny stared into the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, thinking about how the day just couldn't get any worse. How in the world was she supposed to be able to spend a year with her most hated enemy in a place where she would have no help should he turn on her? How did she even know that he wasn't still a Death Eater in disguise to help lure her to You-Know-Who? She didn't. She would just have to trust him and McGonagall's judgment on this one, which, quite frankly, she was finding very hard to do at the moment.

“Wait, wait, wait. You have to pose as his girlfriend?” Colin asked, stunned. “You didn't exactly mention that the first time through.”

“Well, we haven't gone over the plans yet but I figure, we can't be seen in public fighting like cats and dogs can we? It'll just arouse suspicion for anyone who might be undercover - we'll have to be civil to each other to try to blend into the crowd,” Ginny reasoned. “Of course, if we could do this without that little detail, it would be fabulous! We'll just have to see once what McGonagall says tomorrow morning.”

“I can't believe you're leaving me tomorrow morning already to go and live with the world's largest git whom your family can't stand and who hasn't gone a day of his school years without insulting at least one member of the Weasley clan,” the sandy-haired boy said sadly, looking incredibly adorable with his crystalline eyes. They'd spent every day together at Hogwarts since their second year. Of course, Ginny couldn't help but wonder if things wouldn't be different if she had ever disclosed her secret to him - the one about the Chamber. She couldn't bear to think of him knowing it was her who had tried to kill him their first year at Hogwarts, however unintentional. She knew it was a terrible thing to do and someday she had to tell him…when the time was right.

“I know, I know Col,” Ginny said soothingly as she slipped her arms around his ribs in a friendly hug. “You're just going to have to learn how to cope without me I suppose. I know it'll be hard at first but when you're sitting at the Great Hall with Luna, drinking pumpkin juice and thinking about how terribly you miss my bright and shining face, just remember where I am. I will be sitting in the graces of the rudest, most self-centered prat in all of England, trying to find ways to stop myself from killing him.”

“Since you're leaving tomorrow, maybe you should be packing instead of chattering on and on about your love life with Malfoy,” Colin teased, pulling away enough to look her in the eyes seriously.

“Ugh, don't even call it that!” Ginny warned, temper flaring. “It gives me the shivers just thinking about it - and not in a good way.”

*

As a Malfoy, Draco had always upheld his name. His first year, he was sorted into Slytherin in the blink of an eye and became enemies with the great Harry Potter the moment the twerp refused to be his friend - no one refused a Malfoy. Every year he tormented the Golden Trio, making their lives miserable and doing the best to hurt all those whose presence they enjoyed. In his third year he had almost gotten that oaf Hagrid fired and had gotten rid of the bird that injured him as well. Finally, at the age of sixteen he was permitted to join the Death Eaters on a trial basis, to measure up his worthiness, and accepted his first task: making Hogwarts susceptible to attack and then killing the much-loved Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. He succeeded quite well at the first part and then failed miserably on the second, faltering at the wrong moment - not sure how capable he was of killing anyone, costing him his bright, or rather dark, future as a Death Eater in Voldemort's inner circle. Killing was after all a very useful and crucial part of being a Death Eater.

He had always called him `Voldemort' and never `You-Know-Who' or `He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,' and you can count on the fact that he never called him `My Lord.' The fact that you couldn't even speak someone's name said a good deal about your character and Draco had always been particularly fond of the fact that he feared nothing - not even Voldemort - and especially not his name. However, now there was something to fear. He was wanted dead or alive - Death Eaters were looking for him everywhere, including his father - just ready to turn him over to Voldemort; and he wasn't going to go down easy.

So what if he had to live for a year with that filthy Weasley girl anyway? He could probably just bully her into doing anything - or make her mad enough that she'd never talk to him again. The thought of having one year away from school and under the protection of the Order, the Minister, and McGonagall was enough to make him positively giddy. Except, Malfoys don't get giddy, they can be pleased, satisfied, or content, but certainly not giddy.

“What's going on, Malfoy?” a deep, sluggish voice asked from behind him as he magically folded his clothes and placed them carefully in his trunk.

“I'm packing. What does it look like I'm doing, you oaf?” Malfoy snarled, turning to face Gregory Goyle accompanied by none other than Vincent Crabbe.

“Why?” Crabbe asked stupidly.

“What have I told you two about asking questions?” Malfoy sneered, giving no real answer.

“But you just asked us a question,” Goyle giggled, thinking of the irony of the situation. Of course, Goyle didn't know what irony meant, but all the same, it seemed funny to him.

A simple look from Malfoy was enough to let even the two thickest students at Hogwarts know that they should have stopped talking already. The blonde boy paid them no mind and continued his packing.

“We'll be in the library studying for the Herbology exam tomorrow if you need us for something,” Crabbe said.

Draco had to chuckle inwardly at the thought of the pair of them in the library studying - he doubted either of them even knew how to read. They would probably just end up tormenting some first years in the corridors. As for Draco ever needing them, that was totally laughable.

“Well, I highly doubt I'll be seeing you around,” he put in.

“Why not?” Crabbe and Goyle both asked dumbfounded as to what they would do without their ringleader.

“I'm leaving for the year,” Draco supplied, leaving it at that. After all, they were both the sons of active Death Eaters and that was exactly who he was hiding from.

“Where are you going?” Crabbe asked.

“It's really none of your business now is it?” Draco sneered. “Just don't expect me around any time soon. Now leave.”

Regardless of their many unanswered questions, both large boys left at this command, knowing it was a threat concealed in that command. Whether he had the gall to kill Dumbledore or not, it hardly mattered when it came to the issue of whether he would hesitate to destroy them.

Watching their retreating backs, Draco laughed as he thought of what must be running through their minds at that moment. They would be alone without him for the first time since they were born, and that probably scared them to death. As it should. Without Draco around to guide them, they'd probably fail all their classes - as if he cared. He rolled his eyes and packed a few more things before closing his trunk.

Being finished with his packing, he laid back on his bed, tucking his hands under his head and just thought. How different would Hogwarts be without a Malfoy and a Weasley around to keep things entertaining? He had a feeling it would be all too quiet.

*

A/N: I know, I'm sorry - kind of short, but it is just the beginning - a prelude if you will! So next chapter will be quite a bit longer for you and it's where the real adventure begins. I must warn you though - not everything is sunshine and daisies for them. Draco and Ginny will NOT be falling in love right away, it will have to take an appropriate amount of time, as I like to think that the best part about D/G is how imaginative you have to be in order to find half-way realistic ways to make it work out in the end.

So… next time:

-McGonagall lays down the rules

-Some amount of disguise has to be employed

-We learn what the pair (namely Draco) has been up to over the summer.

Review and let me know how you like it!

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What I Will And Won't Do

Chapter Two: I Will NOT Use “Unique Nicknames” (While McGonagall Is Listening)

Disclaimer: As much as I wish that everything was mine, it's not. I can only claim the plot and the few characters which show up later as a result of my own daydreaming. Everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling - if anything else happens to crop up, there will be something at the end of the chapter.

Summary: There are certain things a Malfoy won't do: such as be civil to a Weasley. There are things a Weasley will do: such as annoy said Malfoy endlessly. Too valuable to Voldemort, they must leave Hogwarts and go on the run together…alone…in Muggle London.

A/N: Enjoy! Read, review, be merry - all that fun stuff

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Chapter Two: I Will NOT Use “Unique Nicknames” (While McGonagall Is Listening)

As the alarm sounded in Ginny's room, signaling the beginning of her day as well as the end of life as she knew it, she threw her freckled arm over her face, disinclined to open her eyes to the bright light of morning. She knew the moment she opened them, she'd have to get out of bed - there would be no turning back. She groaned slightly, rolling over and burying her face in her pillow, meanwhile allowing her fiery mass of curls to spill out in every direction.

If only she could have hidden from Voldemort with someone much more handsome and much less Malfoy. Stupid Voldemort - he couldn't even pick out good minions that would later prove to turn on him. She would have been much more contented if she could go with someone like, say, Seamus Finnegan - he had grown over this last summer - that was certain. Not that Ginny actually fancied Seamus, but he did seem like a rather nice fellow to be tucked away with. Hell, truth be told, being hidden away from the world with Snape seemed more appealing than Malfoy.

Reluctantly, Ginny opened her eyes, only to be greeted with what could only be described as an excess amount of sunlight for such a doom-filled day. It took her a second to rub sleep from her groggy, chocolate orbs, thinking all the while of just how terrible life was proving to be. First she was separated from Harry, not to mention Ron and Hermione; then her family informed her that she can't come and visit on holidays because of all the dangers that come with traveling; and now, she's being ripped away from this safe haven to play nice with Draco Malfoy.

Inwardly, she doubted either of them would survive the year together. There were many possible scenarios as to how they would fail to live harmoniously running through the redhead's brain, that she had trouble picking just one. She knew it was always a possibility that Malfoy would sell out her whereabouts to the Death Eaters in return for a renewed acceptance and sense of trust. And once she found out, she'd simply have to kill him, seeing as she wouldn't be living long enough herself to see the inside of Azkaban. Of course, Ginny knew she didn't have what it took to kill someone, even a Malfoy, but she didn't take that into account when she made this plan. Although, the more she thought about it, it seemed much more likely that they would argue themselves to death. She liked the idea of that much better- at least that way she got to watch him die a little more every day.

Swinging her bare legs over the side of the bed, she took into account just how badly they needed shaved. Not that she really wanted to go through all that trouble if the only person she was going to see for the next several months was Malfoy. And there was no way he'd be seeing her legs. Ginny let her feet dangle for a moment, not wanting to let them touch the cold floor awaiting them below. Slowly, she eased herself out of bed and made contact with the always icy floor. You'd think the house elves would learn to take care of that problem already. As she padded lightly to the bathroom, she looked around the sixth year girls' dormitory and saw the sleeping faces of her classmates and friends. They all looked so peaceful in their sleep, so worry free…how lucky they were, Ginny thought to herself, slipping into the bathroom before proceeding to take her last hot shower at Hogwarts for the year.

Having already been up for hours before the first light of dawn, Draco was seated sideways on his bed, shoulders relaxed and head slightly bowed. He sat in this undignified position, in deep thought, only when no one was watching him, taking in his every move, and evaluating whether he was fit to be a Malfoy. As far as anyone at Hogwarts would say - there was no flaw in him, and no doubt in their minds that he was the very symbol of power, money, and evil - everything a Malfoy should be. His father though, had made it very clear that he had his doubts.

Given the events of the last school year, Draco knew his father had every right to think him useless, cowardice, and spineless. As much as the boy knew otherwise, he never conveyed the real reason he couldn't bring himself to kill Dumbledore to Lucius Malfoy. It was pointless anyway - Lucius would never understand, and he would certainly never sympathize with his son; he didn't even know the meaning of the word.

As Draco thought back to that night, a shiver overtook his body and his blood ran cold.

The Death Eaters were waging war on the school as he snuck out, undetected by most. His fellow students didn't care where he was going, or even if he died, and the Death Eaters knew him to be on their side.

He could still see the Dark Mark shining gloriously through the dark night's sky, almost as though it was mocking him for his fear of what he was about to do next. He knew he wasn't like his father - not as cold-blooded and black-hearted, but he wanted desperately to be in the Dark Lord's good graces and save his family from their imminent death should he fail this mission.

Making his way down the grounds, he was growing increasingly more terrified as every step he took brought him closer to the fate he had chosen for himself. All without thinking - he just wanted to live, and he wanted his family to remain intact. But the Dark Lord had promised him that should he fail, they would all three die horrendous deaths at his hands - and what the Dark Lord says is a promise.

Finally, illuminated under the green light from the Dark Mark that was cast to lure the ancient Headmaster to his endangered school, Draco saw him. Dumbledore was all alone - almost as if this was meant to have happened, it encouraged him a little as he disarmed the old man.

Dumbledore had seemed so supremely calm about his position that it had shaken Draco's nerve and caused him to falter. Things would have been so much easier if he would have just killed him immediately following the disarming charm, he knew that; but part of him wanted to brag a little, and another part of him was too scared to do it.

As he stood there, his wand raised, watching his Headmaster's legs begin to give out on him, his resolve was fast slipping away. It didn't make things any better when Dumbledore uttered those words…

“Draco, Draco, you are not a killer.”(1)

Any confidence he once thought he had was gone in an instant. He knew the old bat was right. He wanted so desperately to be a killer…but he couldn't. Even with his life and his family's life at stake, he couldn't find it in him to finish off this old man who had given him a safe haven throughout the last six years from Death Eater meetings and Voldemort's incessant nagging of him to become part of his army. It was a ridiculous thought - a Malfoy couldn't bring himself to tear someone else down.

He knew that he looked terrified and horribly nervous; he even allowed his wand to drop an inch or two after the man did something that even Draco couldn't find fault in. It awed him to hear this very man at his mercy offer his protection for Draco and his family if only he would give up this foolishness that he was pursuing. Draco thought about it - how good could life be without having to worry about the Dark Lord and all his silly games? It was that instant that Draco knew he couldn't do it - no matter what he said from here on out, there was no way. He wanted so frenetically to accept Dumbledore's offer but he couldn't once he was joined by the other three Death Eaters and Fenrir.

That werewolf scared him to the point of no return - he hadn't asked him to come or even informed him of this attack on Hogwarts and yet here he was, wreaking havoc on his school and quite possibly his friends - the only friends he had. When Fenrir offered to finish Dumbledore off, Draco's heart sunk - he couldn't watch that, not after he'd already resolved that he couldn't kill this old man.

It was at that moment that he heard Snape behind him and felt a surge of confidence come back - maybe his Potions teacher and his mentor could help him. Draco's emotions were etched clearly enough on his face that he should know that he was caught in a moral limbo - something he had never experienced until now. The look Snape gave Draco told him that Dumbledore must die. If Draco looked closely enough, he thought he saw something glint in Snape's eyes. Was it sadness, fury, or indifference? He would never be sure.

“Avada Kedavra!”

There they were, those words were out and it was all over. There was no going back. As Snape grabbed Draco by his robes and directed him away, the blonde boy couldn't help but to look back at his Headmaster lying still on the grounds of his own school - the school that he had loved and cared for and made his world. He couldn't help but to feel a pang of sadness, but he had to ignore it as Snape steered him off grounds toward his certain death.

“Go ahead,” Snape directed the other four, giving them word that they must go and help the rest of the Death Eaters up at the school.

“But-”

“Do as I say,” Snape snarled, “Our side is losing in there whether you'd like to admit it or not and they need you. I, on the other hand, need a word with the young Mister Malfoy.”

Draco did not like the sound of that. He knew his mother had enlisted Snape to help protect Draco from his death but now that he had already failed his mission what could keep Snape from simply finishing him off? Maybe he'd even do it painlessly.

Once the werewolf and the brother and sister were gone, Snape turned to look at Draco, his eyes unreadable.

“You have to run,” Snape informed him, not even blinking at the thought of going on the run from the most notoriously murderous wizard of all time.

“But how? Where?” Draco asked hopelessly, thinking how much energy that would waste - running from something that would inevitably catch up to him.

“Dumbledore has a cottage in Ireland that you can stay in - I'm the Secret Keeper of the house - no one else will be able to find you there. I'll send word to your mother that the deed is done and you are safe. I'll tell Voldemort that you killed him and then went crazy from the grief…he'll chalk it up to you not being Death Eater material and want to kill you. I'll inform him there's no need as I've already Obliviated you and then sent you to roam the Forbidden Forest, where you'll surely be killed by some wild beast,” Snape said quickly.

“Sir, it seems as though you've given this a lot of thought,” Draco said uneasily.

“I have been,” the dark haired man conceded, “I know you Draco, and you're no Death Eater. Killing just isn't something you are equipped for. I've known it all year and you proved it further by your pitiful attempts at Dumbledore's death. In the end, I always knew I'd have to finish him off for you - it's what your mother would have wanted anyway.”

“But I can't stay in Dumbledore's house,” Draco said quietly, knowing that just staying there would bring upon an intense wave of guilt.

“He would have wanted it, Draco,” Snape insisted, “You showed him a great deal of loyalty tonight simply by your inability to kill him. He understood your struggle and he appreciated that even under such circumstances, you would think twice about killing him.”

“But, sir-”

“No, Draco, just go,” Snape insisted, handing him a slip of paper, obviously with directions. “No one can read that but you - it's enchanted that way. You must go now, before anyone finds out and blows your cover.”

Draco just looked at his Potions master with a new and intense amount of respect and thankfulness.

“Go!”

And with that, Draco ran.

After that, life as Draco knew it was over. He had fled to Dumbledore's cottage as fast as his feet could carry him, charming his hair dark so others wouldn't recognize him. That Malfoy hair was far too tell-tale as he made his way through many towns, mostly wizarding, but some Muggle to find his way to the secluded cottage. Upon reaching it, he felt safe there - who would think to look for him in the house of a man whom he had been trying to kill all year long?

He had fallen behind on the news of the war during the summer months, instead making himself at home in the cottage. It was set in the deep forest, complete with babbling brook and abundance of trees, which was lucky because for some reason, everything in Dumbledore's house was run by some sort of wood-burning stove. Every day, Draco went out to cut wood for that blasted thing. He would have just charmed everything to run, but that was too much magical activity. He only used his wand if he felt he had to - excessive use would only attract unwanted attention.

Allowing himself to flop backwards onto the mattress, he stared up at the canopy, unsure of what this chapter of his life meant for him. It had come out a month or so ago that he was still alive - he'd been spotted one day in Diagon Alley, as he shopped for his school supplies for the upcoming year without taking enough time to properly disguise himself. He'd just been careless - he'd gone out into the wizarding public with only a heavy cloak. If Snape hadn't already been dead, Draco was sure he would have been killed already. Draco had gone on the run then, finding solace in small shelters for a night or two at a time until it was time to return to Hogwarts. He knew he was safe in Dumbledore's house, but he felt awkward knowing that he had been spotted already, and couldn't remain in the same spot for long - feeling as though he was just waiting for them to come find him.

At any rate, he didn't have much time to ponder this particular question as it was a quarter to nine and he was due in McGonagall's office by nine o'clock sharp. If he was late, he was certain it would be his head on a chopping block. Not that he figured that Weasley would be on time. It was probably in her nature to show up twenty minutes late - that would only follow suit with the rest of her annoying qualities. But Malfoys, even failed Malfoys, showed up early.

Grabbing his satchel containing clothes, grooming products, and a few other miscellaneous personal items, he briskly got up and walked out of the Slytherin common room for the last time.

Looking at two of her most troubling pupils, McGonagall doubted, not for the first time in the last twenty-four hours, the sanity of this decision. Could a Malfoy and a Weasley ever coexist peacefully - even under such dire circumstances? Or would they check on them one day and find one or both of them dead by the other's hand? Surely not.

While Draco had strolled in about two minutes early, Ginevra had in fact come rushing in a minute late, red in the face and apologizing. McGonagall couldn't help but notice the victorious look Draco had plastered on his face - almost as though he'd won some sort of bet with himself.

“Right then, Ms. Weasley, please take your seat there next to Mr. Malfoy and we'll go over some things,” the bespectacled woman directed, shuffling some paperwork around her otherwise tidy desk. “First and foremost, I would like both of you to leave your wands on my desk, beginning now.”

“But-”

“Why do you always see the need to argue with me, Mr. Malfoy? I know what's best for you, whether you like to admit it or not. Any sort of magical activity will only make it easier for someone to track down your whereabouts.”

“Two questions, Professor,” Ginny stated quietly.

“Go on then,” McGonagall conceded, not thrilled to hear her logic questioned by a student whose life she was trying to protect.

“First of all - what would happen if we would need our wands as a defense mechanism should we get attacked?”

“Interesting question, Ginevra,” McGonagall said, “I was going to get to that but you two seem so very adamant that I divulge all the information straight away…”

That comment made Ginny blush once more and softened Malfoy's smirk ever so slightly.

“We will of course be issuing you a portkey that will bring you back here to Hogwarts. While it's almost impossible that something should go wrong at your flat as it's hidden with very strong magic and protected by me as your Secret Keeper, we must protect against the `what ifs' in this situation,” McGonagall finished, noting their satisfied looks.

“Alright, well, I suppose I was just wondering for the very same reasons you provided me with in your last answer, as to how someone could track us down? And why isn't Hogwarts as safe as this flat?” Ginny went on, leaning forward in her seat curiously.

“Well, Ms. Weasley, it's not so much that Hogwarts isn't safe - it's just that it will be much easier for them to know where you are if you're here and then they could attack. Not only would that not be very beneficial to you as being at Hogwarts only bought you a few weeks, but it endangers the lives of the other students as well. By placing you in a flat well-hidden by the most powerful magic the Minister can give you, we hope to make it last much longer before the Death Eaters can target the area in which you are living. Of course, it's not as though they can come in the flat or even see it unless I or the Minister tell them, which won't happen, but once you step out of the flat and onto the streets of Muggle London, you are in grave danger of being seen again. And that is why I have called you here a half-hour or so in advance - so that we can go over some guidelines.” McGonagall looked very stern at saying this, knowing that they should have asked this all yesterday before accepting the idea. But, she knew, she had prompted them to make a decision right then and there.

“So how are we not going to be recognized?” Malfoy finally drawled, half-mockingly as he went on. “I mean, neither the Weasel or I are exactly plain looking what with her flamboyant hair and my devastatingly handsome good looks, we will attract some attention if we need to leave the house.”

“Of course you will, Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall said after having rolled her eyes at the pompous boy. “That is why we are going to be using a dying charm on your hair as that is what makes both of you so recognizable. No one would think that a Malfoy would have black hair and a Weasley would have brown hair, would they? The charm will come undone only in the comfort of your flat. As soon as you walk in, your hair will be back to normal and you can change it accordingly when you decide to go back out.

“Also, I would like to go over curfew with the two of you, since I have the distinct feeling that that particular rule will be a problem for at least one of you,” McGonagall glanced knowingly at Draco who she had found repeatedly sneaking out after curfew over the last six years. “You must be back in your flat by nightfall. There is no exception to this rule. After dark, it becomes harder and harder to recognize your attacker.”

Ginny's eyes grew wide at the thought being attacked. It was evident in her face that she was firmly resolved that she would not be leaving the house after dark - if she even left at all.

Glancing over at Malfoy, Ginny saw disappointment etched into his features. She could only imagine that this was a most devastating day for him indeed. First his hair was to be dyed black and then he was told he couldn't even go out at night - obviously hindering his ability to pick up whores who would appreciate his new-found dark hair.

“Bloody fantastic,” Malfoy mumbled quietly, “not only do I have to live with Weasley filth, but I also have to wander the streets looking like Scarhead. This day just keeps shaping up.”

“Mr. Malfoy, while I can imagine you are having difficulties adjusting to the idea of the new life you are being asked to lead, your colourful language and unique nicknames are neither appreciated nor welcomed in my presence. Do not make me warn you again!” McGonagall reprimanded the blond young man, sounding equally as exasperated as she did angry.

While Draco refused to offer an apology for what could only be described in his eyes as the truth, he did nod his head ever so slightly to show the respect that was expected of him towards his headmistress. At this exchange, Ginny couldn't help but stifle a giggle.

“What's so funny, Weasley?” Draco sneered, careful to avoid any “unique nicknames” as McGonagall had so lovingly put it.

Ginny shook her head as she snorted back her second bout of laughter, determined to come out of this thing more mature than a first year, hard as that was going to be.

“Are you two quite finished?” McGonagall asked. Not that she really expected any answer other than `yes' from either one of them as it wasn't so much a question as a demand for their attention.

Ignoring her previous wishes to remain calm and mature went out the window as she stuck her tongue out at him when McGonagall glanced down to her desk.

“I saw that, Miss Weasley.”

Ginny scoffed, and this time it was Draco's turn to look triumphant at his contender's disgrace. McGonagall couldn't help but roll her eyes at this ridiculous rivalry.

“I really wish that you two could learn to coexist peacefully. I know your families have been feuding for centuries, but at the present time, it would be beneficial to the cause if you would at least try to refrain from the continual insults and ridiculous fighting,” the bespectacled headmistress lectured, hoping to impress upon them a certain amount of seriousness.

“Professor, if I may ask,” Ginny said hesitantly, almost timidly after a few moments of silence, “what exactly is the cause you mentioned? I mean, I know we're hiding to protect ourselves but what of the rest of the wizarding world? What is to come of them while we are locked up safe - the whole community is in danger, not just us. Why save our skins and not someone else's?”

“Not that we want you to save anyone else's,” Draco added quickly, looking heatedly at Ginny, fearing that maybe McGonagall would change her mind and decide to protect someone else. As much reluctance to go along with this plan as he had previously shown, when it came down to it, he was rather happy to live with the promise of life without Death Eaters - well, as happy as Malfoys could be anyway.

“Well, the wizarding community is of course doing anything and everything they can to fight back, including the employment of several secret societies formed specifically for the purpose of fighting against the Dark Lord and his army. Here at Hogwarts we have increased the security drastically - yes that can be done - and have researched every avenue the Aurors and other ministry personnel can think of.

“As for the issue of the two of you, it's quite simple, yet very complicated at the same time. The simple matter is what you already know. Miss Weasley, you are in a precarious situation as you are known for your close relationship with Mr. Potter since he came into our world. You would know more about him than almost anyone else here at Hogwarts. It's a very real possibility that should you stay here at Hogwarts, you will find yourself undergoing something very similar to what happened to you during your first year here, despite our best efforts to keep you safe. We believe that the Death Eaters would do anything to get information out of you - find Potter's weaknesses maybe, and then use you as bait as two of the three students set out to destroy him would be more than willing to save your life again. Once they get all the use out of you they can, they will no doubt kill you. As for you, Mr. Malfoy, I believe we are all painfully aware of how much trouble the Death Eaters would go to in order to keep you quiet. They believe wholeheartedly that you are currently leaking information to the Order and are helping in their demise. Not only that, but you didn't fulfill your duty last year and that causes a great amount of discontentment in your former friends. The second they got their hands on you, it would be torture beyond all torture for you, and as a valuable informant, the Light side wishes you to remain alive as long as possible in this war, contrary to past transgressions.”

Cringing at the headmistress' words, Draco was reminded for the second time that day of his terrible acts against the school and against his classmates. No one would ever know how much he wished he wouldn't have done that - but no one would ever know what it was like to be in his shoes either, and therefore would never understand why he had to do it. If it had been their mother's life on the line in addition to their own and their father's, they would probably have to rethink some things too. Given how little he cared and still does care about his classmates, the choice was clear - let them die, he needed his family more. And with a father like his, there was no way he was going to escape that ring of acquaintances - he never had a chance at being his own person.

Equally pacified by the mention of last year's horrific events, Ginny sat primly in her chair, determined not to look at Malfoy. While she despised him almost to the point of wanting to kill him herself, the thought that it was Malfoy's fault that they were facing Minerva McGonagall rather than Albus Dumbledore had slipped her mind. Not in the sense that it wasn't important or that she didn't blame him - but more in the sense that it was Malfoy, and it wasn't as shocking as it was par for the course. She still hated him for Dumbledore's death and for the havoc he had allowed to be wreaked on Hogwarts and several of her fellow classmates - it was something she would never forget. Friends had died, been injured, gone mad; classrooms were destroyed; the peace and safety of Hogwarts was forever ruined. Even in the few days they had been back at school, there was such a different atmosphere than the one she had experienced this time last year. Lightheartedness still existed but rarely showed itself in the face of daily tragedies. Classrooms were destroyed, teachers were gone - someone new to replace Snape and someone else to replace McGonagall - neither teacher as knowledgeable as their predecessor. Of course, there was also someone to replace Slughorn, but that had hardly mattered. All of this change, and this fear was Draco Malfoy's fault. The tears welled up in Ginny's eyes at the thought of living with the person who caused the whole community so much grief and so much anguish these past few months. He was even the reason Harry and Ron and Hermione weren't there to live out their last year at Hogwarts - instead they were off facing the dangers of the world.

Despite all of her mixed emotions, she had to put up with him for this school year until they were safe - for her own benefit, he could die tomorrow for all she cared.

Sensing the tension, McGonagall went on, “While you have been briefed on that issue, there is one thing that no one has told you. Many, many years ago, at the beginning of your families' feuding, a prophecy was made. While it's quite long and I will not go into every detail with the two of you, I can tell you that the gist of it states that should the wizarding world experience a Great War, the side of the Light can not be completely depleted should there always be one remaining member of each of the two families whose feud is considered the greatest in history. And judging from my experiences with you two, I can understand why it is speculated that your families are indeed the most against each other.”

Allowing the new information to sink in, McGonagall sat back and watched a look of realization cross each of their faces. While Ginny seemed to be able to freely express what she was thinking through her eyes, Draco's silver orbs only hinted at the confusion behind them.

“I know this is a lot of information for the two of you to handle in one day. That being said, I think it's time that you two get going,” McGonagall announced, clapping her hands together quietly to punctuate the silence. “We will be checking in on you once a week via the fireplace you are only allowed to use when the Minister or I contact you through it. Every night at sundown, you will each have a candle on the mantel - one red and one green, I think you know whose is whose - light your respective candle to signify that you are back in your flat, safe and sound and by curfew. If these candles do not both get lit by sunset, there will be extreme consequences.”

Both students nodded, overwhelmed by the amount of information they had been given in the last twenty minutes.

“You will be given a weekly allowance for groceries and a few leisurely activities. You may not get a job to make more money, this will only detract from your lessons which you will be taking through Muggle mail. Don't worry - your lessons will get to you safely and will get back to us unrecognized by Muggles as anything out of the ordinary. Additional instructions will be left at your flat,” McGonagall said quickly, realizing just how much time she had spent droning on about family ties and the past. “Here is your map that will take you from the Leaky Cauldron to your flat. It's not too far of a walk, but it will probably take you about twenty minutes to get there once you leave the Leaky Cauldron. Only the two of you will be able to read this map - it operates much like the Order, Miss Weasley, you should be familiar with it. I will be performing your glamour charms and then you will floo to the Leaky Cauldron while I transport your luggage through magic. It should be there when you arrive. If it's not, ring the little bell above the kitchen sink. I think that's it! Any questions?”

“Yes, Professor, what is this `Order' you keep talking about?” Draco asked curiously, unimpressed that he was not let in on this secret as the Weaselette obviously already knew.

Ginny exchange glances with her headmistress and an unspoken agreement was made.

“Miss Weasley will explain everything to you once you get settled in,” the strict woman said, getting out her wand.

“But -”

“No buts.”

Swishing her wand around in a complicated and intricate pattern, mumbling under her breath, McGonagall managed to transform both students in just seconds before stepping back to admire her handiwork.

There was no way that anyone would ever mistake the raven-haired, brown-eyed boy standing before her as Draco Malfoy. His face shape was no longer the angular, well-defined structure that it once was, but rather a much more oval shape, with a smaller, upturned nose and decidedly ungroomed eyebrows. He had also shrunk a few inches in height and gained a few well-placed pounds in his stomach region, causing a look of distaste to work it's way across the uncharacteristically kind face of Draco Malfoy.

“I'm hideous.”

“Stop being a prat - I think it's an improvement from your ridiculously bright hair that you used to sport,” Ginny Weasley snorted, hoping he knew she had not meant that as a compliment in any way. Of course, glancing in her direction, Draco could not altogether be sure that it was in fact Ginny Weasley speaking.

Her once hear-shaped face was now rounded quite generously and featured large green eyes and unblemished skin. The mass of fiery curls had been replaced with a shorter, blonde bob cut, much to her displeasure. Her cheekbones stood out, making her look much more refined and she had grown three or four inches, putting her just two inches behind Malfoy's now-stunted growth. Unlike him though, she had remained about the same weight, making her look almost unhealthily skinny and lanky, while her chest had grown a considerable amount. She looked much more normal compared to the petite, barely there frame once weighted down by a tangle of scarlet ringlets and dusting of prominent freckles.

For lack of anything better to say given the current shock of both of their appearances, Draco Malfoy uttered the only thing he could think of saying. “Your hair is too short.”

“Wow, that hurts, Malfoy,” Ginny rolled her eyes, a little disappointed in his lack of enthusiasm toward their usual sparring. `At least he's quiet,' she thought to herself, allowing herself to smile her new, slightly lopsided smile.

“Ready?” McGonagall asked, offering floo powder to each of the in turn.

“No,” The responded in unison before Draco threw his powder in, shouting `Leaky Cauldron!' and disappearing, closely followed by Ginny, who shot one last, pleading look to her Professor before disappearing into the green flames and into a life filled with Malfoy and annoyances.

One in the same.

A/N: Next time you will be seeing a “living conflict” as promised, hearing a little more about Ginny's summer, not to mention the pair will navigate through Muggle London together for the first time…should be interesting!

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