Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little.
Author's Notes: Written for scarlettrayne2 for the Fall 2008 dgficexchange. Huge thank you to my beta, rainpuddle13 for her patience, commentary and skill.
TRUTH WILL OUT
OWLS
Ginny groaned loudly and pulled her pillow over her head as a rude wailing invaded her dreams. Unable to drown out the horrid noise she threw her pillow in the general direction of the sound, but it made no difference - the wailing continued. It wasn't that she didn't know what it was that was demanding her attention, but she was determined to ignore it for as long as possible. Of course, as the sound drilled through her head it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore and even more so to fall asleep again. With little choice, Ginny leaned out of her bed and tried to reach her alarm clock. Stretched between her mattress and her drawers she was less than an inch away from regaining the peace of the early morning. Stubbornness gave her the will to stretch just a little further. Her hand landed on the clock just as her body weight slipped from the bed. She landed with a muffled thump on the floor followed by several loud profanities, and then the clock landed on her head with a mechanical clang.
The bedroom door burst open and a panicked, bed mussed Luna surveyed the damage. "Ginny, are you all right?"
"Yeah, sure… I was just turning my alarm off," Ginny muttered from her position on the floor.
"Shall I put the kettle on?"
"Thanks, that'd be good," Ginny answered, knowing there was no way she could go back to sleep now.
She picked herself up off the floor as Luna disappeared from the doorway. One of her knees was screaming in pain, and there was a sizable lump on her head where the clock had landed. Like yesterday and the day before that, she began the day by cursing the very existence of Hermione - if it hadn't been for her, she wouldn't be the disgruntled owner of an alarm clock that wouldn't turn off until the owner is out of bed. Ginny briefly turned her thoughts to an appropriately painful `pay-back' Christmas gift for the witch in question while she put her room to rights.
By the time Ginny had straightened her room, showered quickly and dressed for work she could smell coffee wafting through the flat, along with the distinct odor of burning toast. She bemoaned her flat mate's inability to cook to herself, and then rushed to the kitchen to see if there was a fire that needed extinguishing.
"I made breakfast," Luna announced.
"You shouldn't have," Ginny said kindly. "I really only have time for coffee this morning."
"That's why I made your toast while you were in the shower. You really shouldn't go to work on an empty stomach," Luna instructed Ginny in a dreamy tone.
"Oh- thanks," Ginny uttered, trying not to cringe at the food on the plate before her. The toast looked like it was trying to impersonate a piece of charcoal or perhaps it was a piece of charcoal chiseled into the shape of a piece of toast.
"Any time," Luna said brightly. "Well, I'm off!"
"So early?"
"Daddy thinks he's uncovered a whole colony of Blibbering Humdingers," Luna replied excitedly.
"Wonderful," Ginny uttered hesitantly, hoping that Luna wouldn't bring home a Blubbering whatever it was she said.
"I'll see you tonight," Luna called as she left the kitchen.
"Have a good day!"
Ginny picked up her cup of coffee and sipped it thankfully. Luna may not be much good in the kitchen most of the time, but the woman could make a good cup of coffee when she remembered to add the coffee. She pushed the plate of toast aside and reached for the Daily Prophet. As she scanned the headlines, she suddenly remembered that their personal adverts were supposed to have been printed in today's edition. The pages of the paper flew open quickly as Ginny searched for the personal section, which she finally happened upon just before the sports section.
She scanned the columns of personal ads looking for the one she placed for Draco. Her eyes lit up as she finally found it nestled about halfway down a column.
Pureblood wizard seeking pureblood witch with view to a long-term relationship. Must be attractive, twenty to thirty years of age, and have a bubbly personality for a busy, handsome London businessman from an old, traditional family.
A smile crept across her face as she imagined the single, desperate women out there reading this and picking up their quills to respond. The game was on and she was sure she'd win.
Out of curiosity, Ginny turned to the Witches Seeking Wizards section and began to scan the columns for any potential ads Draco might have written. By the time she reached the third column, she was regretting not letting Draco read her ad, so she could read his. Her stubborn nature was finally rewarded when she happened upon an ad that could have only been penned by her best friend.
Beautiful twenty-something witch seeks handsome wizard, approximately the same age, for companionship. Potential for long-term relationship exists with the right applicant. Trolls and those related to octopi need not apply.
Unable to help herself she laughed aloud at the last line. She could well imagine how determined he would have been to get that particular stipulation across.
"Something amusing, Weasley?"
Ginny jumped as Draco's voice echoed from her fireplace. "Have you ever heard of making some noise or something to let someone know you're there?"
"I just did," Draco answered with a smirk. "So, are you going to tell me what's so funny?"
"I was just reading the ad you placed for me," Ginny admitted.
"And how do you know it's mine?"
"It wasn't hard to pick," Ginny told him. "The bit about trolls and octopi gave you away."
"Just stating the requirements clearly, so there'll be no confusion," Draco replied.
"Have you found yours yet?" Ginny asked.
"Unlike you, I haven't had a leisurely morning," Draco responded haughtily.
"Leisurely? Draco, I got up extra early to check the paper before I go to work."
"I have a business breakfast, so I don't have time to read the paper," Draco informed her.
"Yet you have time to talk to me," Ginny observed.
"I was simply making sure you had awoken in time for work," Draco stated haughtily.
"Can't find the ad, can you?" Ginny teased.
"I told you, I hav-"
"Yeah, I heard it before," Ginny interrupted. "And just so we're clear: I don't believe you. I think you read the section from front to back and you can't find it."
"You can believe what you want, Weasley."
"I'm not going to tell you which one it is," Ginny taunted.
"I'm sure that when I have the available time I'll be able to identify your efforts with no trouble," Draco responded snootily. "Now, I really have to go to breakfast."
"Oh, before you go-"
"Yes?"
"Thank you for the basket of chocolate," Ginny said nicely.
"You're welcome." Draco's bodiless head lit up with pleasure. "Did it help?"
"Help?"
"Cure the grumpies?"
"And here I was thinking that you were apologizing for being an arse," Ginny said sarcastically.
"Before we get into this again, I have a business meeting to attend," Draco said, giving her a wink.
"Have fun," Ginny sang smugly.
"Talk to you later, Weasley."
Before Ginny could respond he disappeared from the hearth. She sat back in her chair and sipped her coffee, feeling very self-satisfied. It was obvious that he had no idea what ad was meant for him, but there was no way he was going to admit it to her. In time, she knew his curiosity would get to him, and he'd begin to bother her to answer the question burning his mind. Not that she'd tell him, because this was too grand an opportunity to torment him mercilessly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Draco walked purposely down the corridor, surreptitiously glancing into every room he passed, looking for any sign of Ginny. He caught a flash of familiar blue robes in one of the rooms and paused for a moment, listening carefully to the voices within. It only took one word from the Healer's Assistant for him to know he'd located his best friend.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Peasegood, but your Healer has left for the day," Ginny said with barely concealed impatience.
"But I need more-"
"Now, you know as well as I do, that I can't do anything about more pain potions without direction from your Healer," Ginny explained with a slight edge to her voice.
"How am I supposed to sleep tonight?"
"I suggest you close your eyes and let your body do the rest," Ginny proposed.
Draco shook his head. He could hear the smirk in her voice, not to mention the sarcasm dripping in her tone. It was any wonder patients survived under her care.
"But it hurts."
"I'm really sorry, Mr. Peasegood, but you're going to have to suck it up and get over it tonight."
Draco's eyes closed and he dropped his head onto his chest. She'd started out sounding so caring, but totally destroyed any pretense halfway through. He was beginning to wonder how she still had a job here after hearing that particular piece of advice.
The sound of soft soles coming closer alerted Draco to her approach. He stepped closer to the wall and waited for her to appear. So as not to alert the patient she'd been bullying, Draco followed her quietly for several feet.
"Remind me, if I should ever end up in here, to request to be placed on a ward that you have no access to," Draco drawled, drawing Ginny's attention.
"Good evening, Malfoy," Ginny responded acerbically. "How was your day? Mine was absolute rubbish."
"Suck it up? Really, Weasley, it's a wonder your patients aren't killing themselves to get away from you," Draco admonished.
"Would you mind saving your comments until you understand the type of patients I'm dealing with," Ginny answered harshly. "That one happens to be a foolish old man, who is addicted to pain potions. He's not actually in any pain; he's just after the high the potions give him."
Draco's expression flickered just a little. "I see."
"Do you?"
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"What was that? I didn't quite hear you," Ginny teased.
"I said, I'm sorry," Draco articulated clearly. "I didn't realize you were dealing with an addict."
"Apology accepted… maybe."
"Maybe?"
"Buy me dinner, and I'll think about making it definite," Ginny challenged.
"You don't want to eat whatever it is Lovegood is cooking tonight," Draco mocked.
"Would you?"
"I do value my health," Draco answered. "When are you finishing?"
"Right now! It's already an hour past the end of my shift," Ginny said wearily.
"Good. I'll wait for you then," Draco replied. "Where would you like to go to dinner?"
"Somewhere that I don't have to mind my manners and they don't mind if I fall asleep on my plate," Ginny answered.
"My place it is then," Draco decided. "We'll get some take-out."
"Sounds good," Ginny uttered. "I'll just be a few minutes."
Draco leaned against the wall opposite the `Staff Only' door Ginny had just vanished through. He could hear her talking to someone beyond the closed door. Her tone was slightly irritated to begin with, and then it became amused. Laughter seeped under the door and floated into the corridor. A smile stretch across Draco's face as he listened; the sound of her laughing with someone always made him feel light inside.
"Have a good night," Ginny called as she appeared. "Are you ready?"
"Absolutely," Draco said, his smile still in place. "What do you feel like for dinner?"
Ginny groaned and let her head fall into Draco's chest. "I really don't care. I'm way too tired."
"Mmm… My choice then." Draco grinned cheekily.
"Nothing disgusting!" Ginny insisted as they started walking.
"You know you're safe there; I don't eat anything disgusting."
"That's a matter for national debate."
"Do you want to call by your place first?"
"No."
"It's just that Lovegood said there were a lot of owls waiting for you when I spoke to her."
"Oh, so that's why you're here."
"Not at all," Draco said curtly. "I actually came to tell you that I received a very good response from the ad."
"Really?"
Draco nodded. "So are you going to go and pick up your owls?"
"I truly don't want to go to my place. I'd have to make up some excuse about not eating dinner with her, and then I'd feel awful." Ginny pouted.
"Fine." Draco sighed. "You go to my place, and I'll go and pick up the owls from your place. I'll tell Lovegood you're working a double shift or something and want to read the owls during the night."
"That'll work." Ginny grinned up at him.
"I'll get some food while I'm out," Draco promised. "Just don't fall asleep before I get there."
"I'm not making any promises."
"I'll see you there." Draco winked at her as they parted ways.
Ginny stood still for a few seconds, watching her best friend weave his way through the crowds in the foyer. It had been a hellish day and all she really wanted to do was go home and fall into bed, but she knew that going to Draco's was going to be the less painful option - for starters she'd get something decent to eat and not have to force herself to smile, as she tried to swallow whatever Luna had concocted tonight.
She wandered over to the staff Apparition point and signed herself out for the day. After taking a moment or two to focus her tired mind, Ginny Disapparated.
Draco's flat was more like a penthouse or a full size mansion in the air. It was four times the size of her modest flat, with two levels and a large balcony. Ginny had never seen the interior look unclean or dusty or even simply messy. She glanced around at the perfect living room and wondered what it would be like to have house elves at your beck and call. Housework was the bane of her existence most of the time, and no matter how hard or how long she worked for, her flat never looked this pristine. It was almost as if no one lived here at all.
Ginny dropped her handbag onto the leather couch and slipped her cloak off her shoulders, leaving it in an untidy heap over her bag. She toed her shoes off and stretched her toes - it felt better than sex. Just as she was about to sink into the soft leather of the couch, Ginny caught a whiff of her Assistant Healer's uniform and just about passed out. It was amazing Draco hadn't said anything to her about the state of her clothes, not to mention the odor that was choking her now.
Worried that he might return before she could clean up properly, Ginny bolted up the stairs. As she moved through his enormous bedroom she shed her clothes, leaving a trail behind her. His bathroom was as big as her bedroom and decorated stylishly in black marble. It was, without doubt, a very masculine area, not that it bothered her; after all, growing up with six older brothers had prepared her for most male habitat rituals and quirks. One of Draco's little quirks made her laugh hysterically every time she was told off for not adhering to it: he liked to keep the lid of the loo down, despite being male and predisposed to leaving the entire seat in the raised position.
Ginny stepped into his shower and turned the water on. She sighed with relief as the warm water ran over her tired muscles. Of all the showers she'd ever stood under, his was her favorite. It delivered just the right amount of pressure to ease her body into a relaxed state instantaneously. Although, she would have liked to stand there all night, Ginny knew Draco wouldn't be far away, so she washed herself quickly.
With her hair now dripping wet, Ginny reached for the shampoo and groaned. Draco's shampoo was very manly in its odor, unlike her preferred hair products, which smelled like sweet coconut. She sighed and got on with washing her hair. After all, smelling like a bloke was certainly better than the stench of a bad day at work, and she could always wash her hair again when she got home.
Thankful that Draco was fastidious about his appearance, Ginny reached for the comb he kept handy and combed her hair to make certain the conditioner was evenly spread through her hair before rinsing. She screwed her nose up at the smell her locks were giving off and got on with the job at hand. It wasn't truly unpleasant, but it wasn't her smell.
Satisfied that she now smelled better than she had, Ginny stepped out of the shower and toweled off. A small giggle escaped her when she realized she'd used Draco's towel without even thinking about it; he was going to be furious at her. When she was dry she went in search of some clean clothes. Over the years she'd left a few things here and they, occasionally, came in handy on nights like this.
With a towel perched precariously on her head, Ginny walked into Draco's dressing room. She teased him mercilessly about have a `dressing room', because she could only imagine someone as pretentious as him needing a separate room to keep his clothes in and get dressed in. Of course, his defense was that she was jealous, and there might have been a grain of truth to that, because his `dressing room' resembled a Muggle department store, but she wasn't about to let him know it. Ginny moved quickly to the wardrobes, scouring them for any sign of something that was hers, but she came away disappointed. Next she checked the many drawers and found a pair of knickers, albeit not hers, but they were clean and they'd fit her. With a flick of her wrist the lacy black knickers landed on a chair, and she resumed her search for something clean to wear. After double-checking everywhere, Ginny came to the conclusion that he either disposed of her clothes - something he'd be punished for, if it was true - or they were hidden elsewhere in the flat. Too tired to contemplate checking the other two bedrooms, she reached into his wardrobe and grabbed one of his white shirts. It was soft and clean, and it would cover her bits just nicely.
When she had dried her hair and put the clothes on, Ginny wandered down stairs again. Draco still hadn't arrived, so she made herself comfortable on the couch. Within minutes her eyelids began to feel as though someone had attached weights to them. Try as she might, she couldn't fight of the need to just close her eyes. She tried to tell herself that she was just going to rest her eyes and had no intention of sleeping, but it was a moot point the moment her eyelashes grazed her cheeks.
"Weasley!"
Ginny frowned and moaned. Someone was being very rude.
"Come on, Weasley, I didn't get all this food for nothing."
"Go away," Ginny snarled.
"You have to eat something."
Ginny growled viciously.
"If you bite me, Weasley, I'll be forced to bite you back."
"Leave me alone," Ginny wailed.
"Nope, I'm having too much fun tormenting you."
Ginny cracked an eye open and glared at her assailant.
Draco smirked at her. "Wakey, wakey, sweetheart. It's time for some food."
"Not hungry," Ginny growled.
"I wonder what your mum would make of you not eating properly," Draco pondered aloud. "Perhaps I should Floo-"
"I'm awake," Ginny snapped angrily. "All right?"
"Good girl," Draco praised sardonically. "I love your mum, did you know that? She gives me a sense of power."
Ginny rolled her eyes, as she lifted herself off the couch and followed Draco to the kitchen. "What did you get me?"
"It's a surprise," Draco stated cagily. "Go and sit down at the table."
She sighed loudly and did as she was told.
"Oh, you can thank me for saving your life as well," Draco called over the clatter of crockery.
"Thank you," Ginny responded. "Just so I know, how did you save my life?"
"When I went to pick up the owls from your place, I told Lovegood you were working late and I was taking the letters to you, she insisted on sending some dinner along for you."
"And?"
"I don't know what it was, but it was bright lime green." Draco appeared in the doorway with his face screwed up in an expression of distaste.
"All of it?"
He nodded. "I ditched it in the alley."
"Near my place?"
"Yes, near your place. I wasn't carrying that mess around for any longer than I had to. Merlin only knows what it might have burned through or stained."
"Great." Ginny sighed. "She's not silly, Draco. She'll see it in the alley."
"No, she won't," Draco said confidently. "As I was leaving that ginger cat that hangs around-"
"My neighbor's cat?"
"Yes, that one."
"What about it?"
"It started eating the sludge."
"So I need to keep my eyes open for a corpse then?" She was only half joking, because death was entirely possible, if not probable, given Luna's history in the kitchen.
"It'd be a good idea."
"Why me?" Ginny wailed into her hands.
"Because you deserve it," Draco answered easily as he placed their dinner on the table.
Ginny's eyes narrowed as she looked at him. "I do not!"
"Yes, you do," Draco said convincingly. "You won't tell Lovegood she's a dreadful cook, and you make all of us play along as well. Of course, that doesn't take into account that you don't like that cat either."
"I have nothing against the cat. It just scares the crap out of me every morning."
"What about Lovegood?"
"I don't want to hurt her feelings."
"Yet you'll risk the lives of innocent people?"
"Don't say that! You all know not to put anything she cooks in your mouth," Ginny snapped as she shook her napkin out.
"It goes on your lap, Weasley," Draco said casually. "How are you going to feel if one of us finds ourselves in a position where we can't lie our way out of it or hide the food?"
"You'll be fine," Ginny replied succinctly. "You've got no problem being rude to her."
"No, I haven't. In fact, I'm only polite to her for your sake," Draco reminded her.
"I know, and I do appreciate it," Ginny responded wearily. "So did you get the owls?"
"Yes, there's quite a stack of them," Draco said, reaching behind him to the buffet. "I'm terribly popular."
"Only because I didn't put your name in the ad," Ginny answered through a mouthful of food. "This is good," she continued when Draco frowned at her.
"Here," Draco said passing a substantial number of envelopes across the table.
"Wow! How many responses did you get?"
"Around the same as you did," Draco replied. "I haven't had a chance to read through them all yet."
"No time like the present," Ginny announced, tearing into the first envelope. As she pulled out a thick piece of parchment something else went flying across the room. "Shit," she hissed, leaping out of her chair to get to whatever it was before Draco could. Without giving a second thought to her attire she bent down to retrieve what turned out to be a photograph, exposing a good portion of her lace-covered arse.
"What are you wearing?" Draco asked with a frown.
"Oh, I couldn't find any of the clothes I've left here, so I borrowed one of your shirts," Ginny admitted.
"The shirt is fine," Draco assured her. "Where did you get the-" He shook his hand at her hips in a slightly embarrassed gesture.
"The knickers?"
"Yes. Where did you get them?"
"Are you blushing, Malfoy?"
"Most likely," Draco huffed. He could feel his cheeks burning, but it was only because if those knickers weren't the ones he was thinking of he was going to be horridly embarrassed. "Just tell me where-"
"They were in one of your drawers."
"My knickers," Draco whispered, his tone tragically mortified and his embarrassment forgotten.
"Your-" Ginny frowned deeply and stared at him in confusion, trying to make sense of his words.
They'd been friends - best friends - for six years and not once had she ever suspected he had a fetish for women's knickers. It wasn't that she'd ever thought much about the possibility that her best friend wore black lacy knickers under his designer boxers, but she thought there might have been some warning signs at some point over the years.
"Draco, I-" She sank back into her seat, unable to think of anything she could say that wouldn't make the situation worse or cause her burst into hysterical laughter, because that was becoming a real possibility.
"How could you take my knickers?" Draco breathed more than said.
"I didn't know," Ginny whispered, her tone equally as horrified.
He dropped his head into his hands, as if he were mourning.
"I just- I was looking- they were-" Ginny gave up with a frustrated whimper. This was beyond ridiculous. She'd never tiptoed around Draco's feelings, not in the six years they'd been friends, or the six years prior to that when they'd been enemies. "Damn it, Draco! I refuse to feel uncomfortable about this. What you do is your business, and I won't judge you, but I have to know… When did you start wearing women's underwear?"
Draco's head snapped up. His eyes were as wide as they could possibly get and new form of horror was clearly painted on his features.
"Look, Draco, like I said, I won't judge you, but as your best friend, don't you think I have a right to know?" Ginny said as calmly as she could manage. The practical side of her brain had taken over and was sitting on the silly side that still wanted to point at him and laugh hysterically. "Aside from the fact that finding out like this is a bit… Well, I'll admit it's shocking, but that doesn't mean this fetish is anything to be ashamed of, and it really does open up a whole other world for gift ideas, from my point of view."
"Fe-fet-fet-" Draco tried to choke the word out, but his mouth refused to cooperate. "No." He shook his head, trying to convey what his brain was telling him.
"I don't think anything less of you," Ginny said gently.
"I-not-" Draco snarled with frustration. His temper was beginning to boil, and while he didn't want to explode, he felt it was inevitable, especially if she kept being so damned understanding.
"It's not as unusual as you might think. I see a lot at the hospital, and believe me-"
"Stop! Just fucking stop!" Draco managed to growl, his control barely intact. "I do not now nor have I ever worn women's knickers."
"But you said-"
"They are now mine, but only because I kept them as a trophy after fucking a world class model last summer," he ground out.
"Oh." Ginny's cheeks filled with color as she realized her mistake and how much worse she'd made the situation with her foolish rambling.
"Men do things like that," Draco informed her flatly.
"I'll give them back," Ginny promised.
"They won't smell the same," Draco said through his teeth.
"What?"
"They smelled like her, and now they're going to smell like you," he explained.
"But they were clean," Ginny uttered uncertainly.
Draco shook his head slowly.
"I'm wearing someone's dirty knickers?" Ginny barely voiced the words as the horror of the situation dawned upon her.
He didn't get the chance to say anything, as his face held the answer she obviously feared.
Before she could even think about what she was doing, Ginny was pulling the other woman's knickers down her legs and stepping out of them. She picked them up between two fingers, as if they held something disgusting, and tossed them at Draco.
While his mind was screaming at him to look away, Draco simply didn't have the discipline to obey. She was, after all, a woman and a good-looking sort at that. He was still staring openly when her hands landed on her hips.
"Are you right there?" Ginny queried harshly.
Draco blinked a couple of times and gave his head a little shake to clear his thoughts. "I'll get you- I'll get something," he mumbled as he left the table.
It wasn't until he reached the privacy of his own bedroom that Draco began to breathe again. They'd shared a lot over the years, but she'd never ripped her knickers off in front of him before, and it had, for want of a better term, fried his thoughts. He moved forward, into his dressing room and began rifling through his drawers. There was one thing he was positive of at this point: there was no way he could sit and eat dinner with her knowing she wasn't wearing any knickers under his button down white shirt. They might be best friends, and he knew he didn't think of her in the same way he did other women, but she was still a woman, and a man could only take so much. Desperate to get her covered up, Draco gave up his search for something suitable and snatched up a pair of his own boxers. At least if she had these on, he wouldn't be in any danger of seeing anything that might lead to his brain being starved of blood.
When he returned to the dining room the first thing he noticed was that she hadn't moved at all. Her hands were still planted firmly on her hips and her eyes still held the same dangerous glint.
"I couldn't find anything else, but these should do the job," Draco said as he placed the underwear on the table between them.
Ginny looked at the boxers and then at him. She snatched up the silk shorts and put them on without a word. Her eyes constantly flickered from what she was doing to his face. When she was fully clothed again, she drew herself up to her full height, which didn't come close to his six feet four inches. "I'd say you can look now, but you never looked away."
"Sorry," Draco mumbled. "That was just about as inexcusable as you ripping the knickers off in front of me."
"So, just out of curiosity, do you smell them often or just when you're lonely?"
Draco frowned. "Excuse me?"
"The knickers," Ginny prompted. "You said they smelled like her."
"I don't-" Draco made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. "That is really gross, Weasley."
"I was just wondering, because you made such a fuss over the smell. I thought maybe you-"
"Don't even go there," Draco warned. "I kept a pair of knickers from a conquest I was rather proud of shagging. End of story."
"But-"
"No buts. This conversation is closed."
Ginny huffed as she sat down again. The finality in his tone was one she'd heard before, and she knew there was little point in arguing about it or pushing him to disclose more details. She picked up her cutlery and began pushing her food around on her plate. After all that drama, what little energy she'd gained from her interrupted nap had vanished, and she suddenly felt exhausted again.
"I know your mother taught you not to play with your food," Draco commented.
"I'm just tired."
"Well, eat up, and you can get some sleep," Draco promised.
"We have to go through all of these." Ginny's hand landed on the pile of envelopes yet to be explored.
"There's always tomorrow, Weasley." Draco glanced at the photograph sitting off to the side of the pile. "I can shorten your pile by one right now."
"What?"
"Didn't you look at that photograph?"
Ginny's frown deepened. "No," she admitted, reaching for the photograph.
"Recognize who it is?"
"Oh my God! I don't believe-"
"Believe," Draco said earnestly. "And just let me add: you are not setting me up with Blaise's mother. I have absolutely no desire to become her next victim."
"She's never been charged-"
"Only because she's a clever little minx," Draco pointed out. "She's disposed of all her husbands as soon as her name is on all the right documents or they've been married long enough for marital property to apply."
"If she'd done any of them in the Aurors would have been all over her."
"There's always an investigation, but they can't prove anything, so they can't charge her. She should be gracing the hellish corridors of Azkaban, but until they get something on her…" Draco's voice trailed off. "Anyway, all of that is beside the point. I'm definitely not meeting with her."
"All right, I'll get rid of her letter now, shall I?"
A small smirk turned the side of Draco's mouth up. "Let's read it first. It might be amusing."
Ginny smiled and unfolded the letter that had accompanied the photograph. She cleared her throat, as her eyes scanned the first few lines of the missive.
"Read aloud, Weasley," Draco demanded.
"Dear Mr. Businessman," Ginny started. "I know I am a little older than you requested but, as you can see from the enclosed picture, I look much younger than my years. I am a successful, independent woman, looking for some fun…" Ginny started giggling as visions of what Blaise's mother might call `fun' roamed freely through her mind.
"This is not amusing, Weasley," Draco said seriously.
"Oh, it is, it's-"
"Weasley, stop laughing," Draco growled.
"I can't- I just-fun!"
Draco scowled across the table. He knew, better than most, what Blaise's mother might mean by `fun', and he didn't find it amusing in the least. It was horrifying enough to give him nightmares for a decade, but not funny. Ginny almost fell off her chair before gaining some semblance of control, but not even that caused Draco to smile. "Are you right now?"
Ginny coughed and cleared her throat. "Yes, I think so."
"Good," Draco responded curtly. "I think we'll burn that letter."
"Don't you want to know what else she has-"
"No. Quite frankly, I don't think your brain could tolerate another round of oxygen deprivation without becoming permanently impaired."
"Grumpy bastard," Ginny said under her breath.
"What was that, Weasley?"
Ginny smiled broadly. "Nothing."
"Shall we just finish eating before everything goes stone motherless cold?" Draco suggested.
"Fine," Ginny agreed lightly, allowing a small giggle to escape.
The scowl on his face remained as Draco finished his meal. Every time Ginny glanced at him she had to swallow the urge to laugh again. Images of Draco moving through various society functions with Blaise's mother on his arm kept assaulting her, and when she envisioned Blaise addressing Draco as `father' she almost choked on her food.
"Are you all right?" Draco asked with a frown.
"Fine," Ginny managed as she tried to clear her throat.
"Is there something wrong with the food?"
"No, it's fine," Ginny answered, reaching for her glass of wine and draining it in seconds. "Something just went down the wrong way."
"That happens when you laugh with a mouthful of food," Draco observed blandly. "So are you going to tell me what was so funny that you nearly died for the cause?"
Ginny shook her head. "You wouldn't think it was funny."
"I have a sense of humor, Weasley," Draco assured her.
"You do, but only when the joke is on someone other than you."
"Ah, so I did something funny?"
"Not yet," Ginny replied, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Actually, you won't, so it doesn't matter anyway."
"I won't do what?"
"End up with Blaise as your stepson." Ginny cringed as the words slipped from her mouth.
Draco's eyes hardened. "I want you to forget you ever saw that letter."
"I'm sure I will," Ginny answered earnestly. "Eventually."
"Weasley, we're not going to have this conversation again, are we?"
"No." Ginny pulled her lips together into a hard line in an effort not to smile. "I'll forget about it now."
"Good."
As she relaxed a bubble of laughter forced its way out of her throat. "I'm sorry. I just keep thinking about Blaise calling you `father'."
Draco rubbed his forehead tiredly. "We both know that's never going to happen," he said evenly. "Your little fixation about this has got to end now; before it does irreparable damage to someone we care about."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"How do you think Blaise would feel if he knew his mother was looking for a husband young enough to her son?"
"Blaise wouldn't think anything of it," Ginny said positively. "Besides, she's probably just looking for a shag who can keep up with her." Unable to help herself Ginny giggled again. "A toy-boy!"
"Charming, Weasley," Draco said dryly.
"Sorry," Ginny mouthed, lowering her eyes in a show of mock shame. "I'll stop now."
"Thank you." Draco wiped the corners of his mouth delicately with his napkin. "Are you going to finish your dinner or have you had enough?"
"I'll finish," Ginny promised.
"While you're doing that, I'll organize coffee and dessert," Draco said as he stood up.
Ginny's eyes lit up. "Dessert? You spoil me!"
"You won't get any if you don't finish your dinner," Draco warned with a smirk.
"What is it?" Ginny asked curiously.
"It's something you've been known to commit cold-blooded murder for in the past," Draco answered as he disappeared into the kitchen.
The only sound from the dining room was cutlery against china as Ginny hurried to finish her dinner. It wasn't difficult to get Ginevra Weasley to behave herself; one just had to know what to bribe her with, and he had the perfect bait for this evening - rich, dark, chocolate cake with a chocolate mousse center. He hoped it would be enough to distract her long enough for her to forget about Blaise's mother. Draco placed his used plates in the sink, put some water on for coffee and set about serving their dessert.
When everything was ready, Draco carried the tray back to the dining room. "We might take dessert in the sitting room," he suggested as he passed through.
"Is this a special occasion?" Ginny teased.
Draco was particular about eating anywhere in his flat, other than at the dining room table. He detested crumbs floating around the couch or his bed, and you never saw a glass of water on his bedside table.
"While we enjoy our treat, we can read through the letters we received and start making a short list of potential dates."
"You won't hear any arguments from me," Ginny said as she followed him through the flat.
"Did you finish your dinner?"
"Every last mouthful," Ginny answered proudly. "It was wonderful. Thank you."
"You're welcome." Draco placed the tray on the coffee table. "And now, allow me to introduce you to death by chocolate."
"Oh my God!" Ginny's hand went to her heart. "You are a legend!"
Draco preened for a few seconds. "I know."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'll pour the coffee while your head shrinks to normal size again."
"Don't spill it," Draco warned seriously.
"Rugs can be cleaned," Ginny said dismissively.
She could feel Draco's eyes watching her like a hawk as she picked up the pot of coffee. The man had no faith in her, that much was made clear time and again, especially when it came to potentially spilling something that might stain. Ginny could feel her hands start to tremble a little as his gaze burned into her, so rather than continue she placed the pot down again and glared up at him.
"Do you want me to pour?" Draco offered.
"You may as well, because I'll just spill it if you keep looking at me like that."
Draco smirked. "At least you're honest, Weasley."
"And you're paranoid," Ginny retorted as she dropped herself onto the couch.
"Don't jump on the furniture," Draco complained.
"I simply sat down," Ginny answered through her teeth.
"In that case, definitely don't ever jump on my furniture. I don't think it could withstand the pressure."
"You sound just like my mother," Ginny commented, her tone slightly annoyed.
Draco stopped what he was doing and stared at her. "I sound nothing like your mother, Weasley, and if I ever do I'll thank you to put me out of my misery."
"No problem," Ginny agreed easily, thankful that he seemed to have forgotten about his precious furniture for the time being. "So, how are we going to do this?"
"I'm curious about the type of woman you might set me up with, but I fear we might be doing ourselves a disservice if we know too much about them before meeting them," Draco replied thoughtfully. "Predetermined judgments can often overshadow one's true opinion of a person."
Ginny frowned and looked at him quizzically. "Okay, I'll take it that all you want to know is where and when?"
"And some form of identifying the other person, of course," Draco added.
"What do you want to go with there?" Ginny asked.
"I don't know. Do you have any suggestions?"
"A single flower of some description?"
"That sounds feasible."
"Good." Ginny picked up her pile of envelopes. "Let's get on with it then."
Apart from the shuffling of parchment, the occasional slurp as one or the other sipped their coffee, and the sound of cake forks against fine china there was little noise from the pair. They were both focused on the words the applicants had written. Draco scribbled periodically on various letters, while Ginny created two piles beside her on the couch - one much bigger than the other. Coffee mugs were refilled when they became empty and their dirty dessert plates sat on the coffee table long after they'd finished eating.
Draco shook his head in disgust for what seemed like the umpteenth time. There were truly some very perverted men out there, and he vowed to himself that Ginny would never be left alone on one of these `dates' just in case he'd read the applicant wrong. They'd been at it for a couple of hours and he glanced up to see how Ginny was doing.
"Weas-"
The word died on his tongue as soon as his eyes landed on her. Ginny had fallen asleep at some point. Her head was resting against the back of the couch, and the letter in her hand was only just being held there by some miracle. In sleep, her face held an innocence that made his chest ache a little. He didn't try to work out what it meant, because examining his feelings too closely was one thing Draco didn't do too often. There was no doubt he cared for her - she was his best friend, after all.
So as not to disturb her, Draco carefully picked himself up off the couch. He moved the letters she'd been dealing with to the coffee table, being certain to maintain the separate piles she'd created. Without so much as a grunt, he gently picked her up and carried her upstairs.
After he'd tucked her into his bed, Draco returned to the sitting room. He looked over a few more letters, discarding more than he kept. Out of all the responses he'd received there were only five that he felt would be good dates for Ginny. When he'd finished for the night, he rubbed his eyes tiredly. It was harder than he thought it would be to select someone who might be good enough for her. His eyes roamed over to the piles she had created.
Curiosity ate at him. Draco knew he shouldn't look, because it had been his idea not to, but they were just sitting there on the table, begging him to pay them some attention. He cast a sly glance in the direction of the staircase, just in case she'd woken up, before his hand snuck over to the lesser pile. Once the missive was in his hand, Draco scanned it quickly. A frown crept across his brow before he reached to closing signature; the woman who wrote this letter sounded dead boring, to put it politely. Before he realized what he was doing, he was reaching for another letter. Just as his eyes read the opening line his conscience caught up with him, and he placed the parchment back on the pile he got it from. They had an agreement, and while he might not honor such agreements with many, this one had been made with his best friend, so he was bound to respect it or suffer the consequences, especially if she ever found out that he'd peeked.
In an effort to do the right thing, Draco got up and wandered upstairs. It was late, and he did need to get some sleep. Before he retired for the evening he looked in on Ginny. She was sleeping peacefully. Unable to help himself, he adjusted the covers around her shoulders and placed a light kiss on her forehead. It seemed to take forever for his feet to find the ability to move again, but when they did he shuffled down the hall to the guest bedroom.
Draco sighed heavily when he realized the bed wasn't made up. He kicked his shoes off and shed his clothes, and then dropped onto the mattress, pulling the duvet over him. Just before sleep claimed him, he reminded himself rather harshly that he didn't need to put every woman who fell asleep on his couch into his bed, especially when they were ones he couldn't shag.
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