Characters: Draco Malfoy and Ginevra Weasley Date: Saturday October 18, 2001 Time: 8pm Location: Ginny's flat leading to Malfoy Manor
Draco stepped through the floo, dusting himself off with one hand. He'd changed for the occasion, if one could call it that. Fine robes of midnight blue draped perfectly from his shoulders. Green would be too aggressive. Red was right out. Blue was nice and casual without being overly so.
Throughout dinner with his mother, his books, he'd been thinking about their interaction at the quill shop. He'd struck a nerve with the comment about muggle attire. He just hadn't expected her to avoid him the rest of the time they were in the same shop. Maybe she hadn't. Thinking back, he knew he'd avoided her as much or perhaps more. That had been a difficult admission. Even more so had been the realization that it would be politically advantageous to get her to help temper his image. The trick would be, getting her to agree to it. By honesty or by trick. Honesty would be a new tactic.
Looking around at the living room, he wondered if the girl ever locked her floo. "Miss Weasley," he called, his voice sure and solid. It wasn't overly late to call on a lady, though it was surely after dinner. As he looked around, he wondered briefly if she had company, or if she was even home. His hand strayed to his wand pocket, reassured by the warm tingle of magic held dormant in the wood. He paused in his perusal and looked at a photo taken before the war. Bill's face hadn't been marred by Fenrir. George had two ears. Fred was there. All the faces were smiling and waving. The ramshackle house behind them had to be the Burrow.